More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
She only had to hide that she was a gumiho, a nine-tailed fox spirit, for one hundred days . . . then she would become human.
Contrary to popular belief, goblins look no different from humans on the outside. It’s the magic they carry inside, such as their affinity for gold and silver, that differentiates them.
Never expose the world of gods. Protect the magic. Keep the Amheuk, an ancient force of darkness, at bay.
I’m one hundred thirty-two years old. He doesn’t know that, but I don’t need anyone giving me advice on how to live my life.
In reality, I actually look eighteen because that’s when I stopped aging—the same time I left Korea.
There are poisons from the Shingae that can kill like that, but I’m not going to jump to conclusions. Ben was human. The repercussions for murdering a human are dire. No one from the world of gods would do it lightly. I shudder and block out the image of bodies strewn across a faraway mountain.
“If that person looks into the heavens, they will learn the secrets of the Shingae. If they look toward the Earth, they will understand the ways of the humans.”
Everyone who knew Mihwa died over a century ago. I killed . . . everyone, including Daeseong.
The world of gods lies like gossamer over the human world—a shimmer in the corner of their eyes. The humans’ stories of gods and beasts weren’t born of wild imagination but woven together from the sudden goose bumps on their arms and the cold shivers down their spines. Human minds can’t grasp the truth, but they also can’t completely ignore the allure of the supernatural—the magic.
Or at least, what I assume is my version of eternity. It doesn’t look like I’ll die of old age, but I doubt I’m immortal. Only the gods are immortal, and I’m no goddess. Fox spirits were once revered as deities in Korea, but that’s ancient history. Nowadays, most Koreans believe in the myth that gumihos are treacherous demons who turn into beautiful women to manipulate and control men to do their bidding.
I don’t mention that the most powerful dark mudangs of the Jaenanpa can also absorb magic into themselves by killing Shingae beings in horrifying ritualistic sacrifices.
The true strength of the gumiho comes from their cunning and intelligence, but those things have nothing to do with magic. And no one knows about my newfound powers of eternal youth and fast healing.
“The true light? The Cheon’gwang sacrificed itself half a millennium ago to vanquish the Amheuk. How can I bear its gift?” It can’t be me. My mother was the most powerful gumiho of her time—a healer and a warrior. I’m not special. I’m not . . . good. “I don’t understand.”
The gi stemming from the four life sources each exude a different light—silver for Sky, green for Mountains, blue for Water, and red for Underworld.
A snow-white nine-tailed fox the size of a lion cannot pass for an average fox.
I roll my eyes. I don’t bother explaining that minotaurs are perfectly nice guys. Besides, I wouldn’t mess with the Greeks. Their mythology is part of the US public school curriculum. When it comes down to it, they are harder to kill than a mythical creature only people in Korea know about.
The man is unfairly hot—pretty much up there with the seraphim, minus the wings. Except you can only ogle perfection for so long before you get bored. With Ethan, his not-quite-straight nose and rugged edges make him infinitely more ogle worthy than a beautiful angel.
I didn’t realize kissing could feel like this. My first few decades in the United States were about survival, much of it spent disguised as a boy. When the human world slowly changed and being a young, single woman wasn’t a danger in and of itself, I began to breathe a little easier, live a little more.
“You . . . you’re a jeoseungsaja?” “A.k.a. Grim Reaper, Death, or as people often call me, ‘Oh, no. Please not you.’ But yeah, I have the power to escort the dead to the Kingdom of Underworld.”
“At the base of Mount Baekdu on the North Korean side. Not the Chinese side,” he says. “She refuses to step outside Korea.”
She’s a water ghost, someone who drowned in her mortal life. I shiver. Gods, she is so creepy.
As outrageous as his claim, the dokkaebi indeed dances his way through a throng of beasts, burning them and stabbing them, without missing a step in an oddly familiar choreography. Is that from a BTS music video? But damn, the dude can move.
“I swear I’ll gag you if you tell us about your stint in a Korean boy band one more time.”
I try not to stare. I really do . . . but there is a freaking dragon in front of me. Pearlescent scales shimmer on their azure blue body, and the wolflike slopes of their face look masterfully sculpted. The dragon is quite possibly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
That was when the grown-ups started calling me a gumiho. They said I was a hundred-year-old fox and my mom was a five-hundred-year-old fox. Gumihos are known for their cunning and beauty, so it was a half compliment and a half insult.
