The thunderstorm refused to end. The tavern’s patrons were growing bored. Now and then someone would glance out into the rain, shake his head, and quickly retreat inside.

  The merchants rummaged through their bundles and laid out small trinkets right on the table, turning it into an improvised stall. For a while this amused the guests — they examined the wares, haggled a little, and even the servant slave boy wandered over to gape at the bright oddities. When that novelty, too, lost its charm, the young noblemen somehow came to an agreement with the gisaeng and all went upstairs together.

  Jade Butterfly remained behind, refilling Yeong San’s tea and quietly recounting her travels.

  “You could make a living as a storyteller or a reader,” he remarked, listening to her vivid descriptions of a seaside sunset.

  “I have several books with me, if nari enjoys love stories,” she fluttered her lashes playfully.

  “So long as they’re not about me,” the commander of the royal guard snorted. “If this rain goes on, they may be our last salvation from boredom.”

  They were speaking loud enough that one of the bodyguards at the next table turned around.

  “I’d listen to her fairy tale,” he declared for all to hear, adding with a laugh, “When else will I get such a chance?”

  “If the esteemed guests are interested, I can read aloud later,” the gisaeng agreed graciously.

  The guards greeted her words with cheerful shouts. Only their leader narrowed his eyes at something and ignored them completely. Yeong San followed his gaze — the man was watching the young slave again. And something about the boy was wrong.

  The youth had sat down on an empty low table and was staring blankly into the air with a foolish smile. He rocked back and forth, muttering something unintelligible. It was clear he was not himself.

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  “What’s wrong with him?” Yeong San wondered aloud. He had once seen a soldier in a similar state after taking a hard blow to the head during training — but there had been no fighting here.

  “As if he drank something he shouldn’t have… right?” Jade Butterfly shivered, casting a wary glance at the strange slave.

  More and more patrons began paying attention to him, merchants leaned together and whispered. They ought to have called the hostess from the kitchen, perhaps, but no one wanted to step outside into the downpour.

  The tightly shut paper shutters flashed white with lightning, then the thunder struck, and almost at the same instant a long, terrified scream rang out from upstairs. Jade Butterfly and Yeong San exchanged alarmed looks. The commander seized his sword and rushed up the stairs.

  One of the room doors stood open.

  The gisaeng who had just burst out of it clung to one another in fright. From inside the room came sounds of struggle and a low growling.

  Seeing Yeong San, the girls pointed frantically toward the room. He stepped inside, hand on his hilt, ready to fight, but then stopped, frowning in confusion. Two young noblemen were struggling desperately to hold down a third. The restrained youth was howling, growling, clawing at the air like a wild beast, and had already scratched his friends.

  “Help!” one of the nobles cried when he saw Yeong San. “He’s not himself!”

  In a single stride the commander crossed the room and struck the frenzied young man in the stomach with the sword hilt. The youth let out a hoarse gasp and doubled over, gulping for air. Yeong San shoved his shoulder, forcing him off balance and down to the floor, then pinned him with a knee and twisted his arm behind his back. The young man writhed and growled again, but soon went still. Making sure the situation was back under control, Yeong San finally asked:

  “What happened here?”

  “You know those much-talked-about herbal pills — Hwangu?” one of the nobles wiped his face and leaned against the wall. “That merchant gave us some for free, and he here decided to try one. I heard they cause strange dreams, but if they turn a man into a beast, I’d better throw them out.”

  “I hope he comes to,” the second clicked his tongue.

  Their friend, pinned to the floor, relaxed by degrees and began to breathe slowly and steadily. Yeong San rose cautiously, ready to leap again if needed, but it proved unnecessary. The dazed young man rolled onto his side, curled up, and began sucking his thumb.

  “Don’t disturb his sleep, and don’t leave him alone,” Yeong San advised, turning to go back downstairs.

  “Thank you for your help, officer,” one of the nobles said gratefully. He had been downstairs earlier when Yeong San arrived, and had likely recognized the uniform.