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going to get mauled, I put the petals on a flat stone and use a smaller rock to grind them into a paste. I scoop up the salve and carefully make my way toward the bird-woman once more.

“You will never tame me!” she cries again as I near.

“I don’t want to tame you,” I say honestly. “I just want to help you. Will you let me do that?”

Her stare could burn holes, but she lets me approach. And, somehow, I find myself reaching up to spread the healing balm on her cheek with a trembling hand.

When my fingers first touch her feathery face, she lets out a high-pitched whine, and a shiver runs down my spine. Every instinct in my body tells me to turn and run. But I stay put. And when she realizes this is not a trick, she starts to calm down.

Eventually, she lets out a deep sigh, and her bird shoulders relax. Her feathers settle and her eyes soften until they look like molten syrup. “Thank you,” she warbles, and it almost sounds melodious.

I think of the third answer to the cheollima’s verification question. How the sun was mightier than the wind. I guess it’s true that empathy is more powerful than brute force. In a moment of trust, I reach out and stroke her feathers. And instead of screeching or screaming or slashing, the inmyeonjo coos and edges farther into my touch.

“Let go of your anger,” I say quietly, echoing the words Gwisin Halmeoni had said to Jennie. “Anger will only make it hurt more. And I know you don’t like mirrors, but these are people’s homes that you’re destroying.”

She whines and lets out a sad caw-caw. “But it is part of who I am. The curse of my ancestor makes me this way.”

I stroke her wing feathers, now tucked snugly into her body. “Don’t let a curse define who you can and can’t be. Only you have the power to decide that.”

She twitches her head to the side as if contemplating my words, and I realize how true they are. She and I aren’t dissimilar, if you think about it. We’re both trapped in a story someone else wrote about us. But we have the power to take the reins. If we want to.

“You’re beautiful just the way you are,” I say, “and you should be proud of your reflection.” I picture my smiling face in the library’s pond water, and I’m reminded of the journey that’s brought me here so far.

“My name is Riley Oh, and it’s nice to meet you,” I say. “What’s your name?”

A sad chattering noise escapes from the inmyeonjo’s throat. “I do not have a name.”

“Would you like one?”

Her eyes widen. “Yes. I would like that very much.”

I ponder what a fitting name for this formidable bird-woman might be. She watches me expectantly. And suddenly, it comes to me.

“What about Areum?”

“Ah-rihm.” She tests out the new word in her avian mouth.

“It’s a Korean name that means beautiful—like you.”

She bows her head in gratitude. Then, to my surprise, she begins to shrink. She retains her bird body and her human-like face, but she becomes the size of a dove. She flies up and perches on my shoulder.

“Riley Oh, I yield to you.”

“Wait, what?” I blurt out. “What do you mean, yield to me?”

The crowd lets out a loud exhale. I’d almost forgotten they were there.

“You did it!” Sora announces, clasping her hands together. “You demonstrated bravery and commitment to the task and even taught us a lesson along the way. You tamed the inmyeonjo!”

Whoa. My mind reels. Did I just domesticate Areum?

Sora beams proudly. “I now invite you, Riley Oh, to pledge your allegiance to the Horangi clan. Do you accept?”

I think hard about what I’m about to do. I succeeded in my initiation, but I did it using what I’d learned from my Gom upbringing. The scholars, on the other hand, had been more than happy to use violence to try to control the inmyeonjo. Am I prepared to leave the healers? Do I want to give my loyalty to the Horangi clan for the rest of my life?

Areum looks at me with complete openness, and something broken inside me puts itself back together. It’s like I’d thought earlier. I won’t have to rely on someone else to write my story if I’m brave enough to take the pen into my own hands.

I turn to Sora. “Yes, I do,” I confirm. With over a third of my sister’s heart shriveled, and the survival of the world at stake, retreating is not an option. I will take the best of both clans and complete this job.

“Congratulations, Riley. Welcome to the clan!” Sora exclaims.

And just like that, the crowd goes wild. It’s not as regal as an initiation at the gifted temple with all the elders and the entire congregation watching. I didn’t even get to wear a cool bear crown or dress. But still, I did it.

“Welcome home, Riley!” I hear from somewhere in the crowd.

“You’re a hero!” someone else shouts.

It’s kind of ironic, to be honest. Because now that I’ve formally become a Horangi scholar, I feel more Gom than ever before. Go figure.

Suddenly, more than anything, I’m desperate to find Emmett. I haven’t seen him since before I got my biochip, and I want to share this moment of triumph with him. I search the crowd and, finally, I see his familiar face. I look at him with a bittersweet mix of emotions, trying to convey how I’m feeling. But he’s clutching Boris to his chest with fear in his eyes.

I frown, trying to understand why he’s scared.

Then I see.

Standing next to him in the crowd are none other than my parents.

And next to them is my auntie Okja.

WE ARE BRISKLY USHERED AWAY from the crowd and into a shed by the lake that’s full of kayaks and life jackets. Before Austin can even close the door, I jump into my eomma’s

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