Moon's Whisper, Heart's Echo

1.The shaman

The Ming incense was a waste, Nandi decided, watching it curl uselessly toward the ceiling beams. If her late husband's spirit was watching, he'd probably lecture her about how sad she seemed.

Strange, the small memories that surfaced after seven years – Seong-hwan's furrowed brow as he adjusted things for her benefit.

Yi Seong-hwan.

"You're burning the expensive kind today," Ji-soo observed quietly from the doorway.

"It's the quarter anniversary." Nandi didn't turn from the altar. Her fingers moved automatically through the familiar ritual – straightening the rice cakes, adjusting the placement of the dried fruit. "He always complained about the cheaper incense giving him headaches."

Behind her, Ji-soo rustled as she knelt. "The mudang is waiting in the outer courtyard. She brought sacred stones from Mount Geumgang."

"Eomeoni!" Min-joon's voice carried from the courtyard, followed by the distinct sound of someone trying to shush him. "I mean... her stones show spirit paths! Like the ones in Father's stories about the mountain monks!"

"Young master," Ji-soo's familiar exasperation filtered through the paper screens, "what did we say about proper behavior during memorial rites?"

"But the stones—"

"Can wait until after the ceremony."

Nandi caught herself smiling. Her son could recite the Thousand Character Classic without pause, but maintaining proper dignity for more than three breaths still eluded him. At six, he was all quick mind and quicker feet, too much energy for the solemn halls of yangban houses.

"It's alright," she sighed. "I'm sure your father would prefer your excitement to excessive solemnity."

The soft pad of feet on wooden floors announced Ji-soo's arrival before she spoke. "The mudang is getting... insistent. She claims the stones only speak during the hour of the ox."

"The hour of the ox was auspicious yesterday too," Nandi replied dryly, arranging dried persimmons. "And the day before that. Funny how spirits become more talkative when their intermediaries are paid in advance."

"The crown princess recommended her personally."

"The crown princess recommended the last three as well." Nandi straightened, her dark green chima rustling with the movement. "Did this one also claim to have a vision about my husband's hunting accident?"

Ji-soo's silence was answer enough.

From the courtyard came the sound of Min-joon's laughter, followed by the quick patter of his feet across wooden floors. He'd slipped away again, drawn by whatever mysterious items the mudang had brought. Through the window, Nandi caught glimpses of him circling the shaman's mat, his ember-red trimmed jacket bright against the morning shadows, topknot listing precariously as he bowed to examine her sacred stones.

"He's asking about his father more often," Ji-soo said quietly.

"He's six. It's natural to be curious." Nandi's fingers found the familiar outline of her father's letter, tucked safely in her sleeve. "Though I suspect Lady Jang's comments at the market haven't helped."

"That woman's tongue is sharper than her embroidery needles." Ji-soo's voice held carefully banked anger. "To imply that a child without a father's family..."