The stranger was prepared for the weather, wearing a long, blue raincoat and red, knee-high rain boots. On top, they wore a clear poncho, the ends of it gliding on the water. The adult raised an arm to see through the rain in two layers of hoods and locked eyes with Ahrisu.

  After a few heartbeats of stillness, the woman smiled, scrunching her nose. “Oh, hello! You must be caught in this downpour, too, huh? Not the best day to visit Wolmido. My life is just moment after moment of bad timing.”

  That made two of them. The woman laughed, a belly laugh louder than the rain.

  Ahrisu lowered her head and glanced at the race track. In any other scenario, she’d ignore this stranger. But whether it was her belly laugh or their shared life experience or this current situation, something pulled her arm up and had her point at the ride.

  “Here,” she said. “To get out of the rain.”

  “Ah,” the woman exclaimed, “very nice shelter.” They waded through the water together and climbed over the fence. Ahrisu scuffed her boot on the pillar, eyeing the woman.

  She stood next to the elevated path in the corner of the race track, its railing close to the height of her shoulders. Exhaling, she removed her hoods.

  The woman appeared to be in her early 50s, and her dark reddish-brown hair was tied back in a limp, sagging bun. Loose strands were matted to her bandanna, which was tied near her forehead and behind her ears, like a hairband. It was green with patterns of golden barley stalks.

  “It’s at times like this,” the woman shared while taking off her poncho, “that fate reminds me that one chance encounter outweighs nine instances of bad timing. Thanks to you, I got out of this rain.”

  Ahrisu didn’t do anything momentous, and she said as much. “You would’ve found this place without my help, anyways.”

  “And if you weren’t here, I would’ve kept looking for shelter until I found another soul. It’s so nice to see another face in this storm.”

  “By chance,” Ahrisu blurted out. “Have you seen three little girls? About six or seven years old. I think they’re triplets.”

  “You think? They’re not your younger sisters?”

  “No, but they were out here. I don’t know where they went.”

  The woman, her expression serious, pulled her arms through the sleeves of the poncho. “Do you think they were caught in the flood?”

  “No, they were here.” Ahrisu gestured at the theme park. “With me. But I was, uh, I-I was looking for shelter. And lost sight of them.” Or scared them off, she thought.

  The woman’s mouth tightened before she spoke, “At their age, they wouldn’t walk right into a flood. Even toddlers wouldn’t. Do you want to walk around for a bit and look for them? Just to make sure they’re not in any danger.”

  Ahrisu could search for them on her own, but the woman already slipped her poncho back on and covered her head with the hoods. They climbed over the fence again.

  “Over there’s the floodwater,” said Ahrisu, pointing to their left. The water level remained at her knees, as the woman pressed down on the sandbags with one hand and leaned forward. With the other, she hung onto her hoods. Ahrisu, soaked to the bone, didn’t bother and let the rain pelt her face.

  “I see,” the woman said. “Other paths are blocked off with sandbags so the flood only flows in a single direction. Wonder where it goes. I don’t see anything out of the ordinary,” she said in a louder voice. “I think it’s safe to say the kids aren’t caught in the flood. Thankfully.”

  The woman raised her head, blinking rapidly while scanning above them. “Let’s do this. I’ll check the top of the building and the Ferris wheel. Can you check the area around here? They could be hiding.”

  Ahrisu confirmed she would, and they slogged through the water towards the elevator. While the woman trudged up the stairwell, gripping the railing for support, Ahrisu plodded past the Viking longship.

  To the right was the Disco Pang Pang, a tagada-style ride with seats around the edge and rails to cling to while the ride spun and bounced, trying to throw people off. In the downpour, it turned into a fishbowl. No kids there.

  Past the Disco Pang Pang was an exit leading to a road, though Ahrisu went to the left first. The ground floor of the building was an open area hosting kiddie rides. It was cordoned off by sandbags and tetrapods, leaving the floor damp, but not flooded.

  The concrete wave breakers were cool to the touch, as she clambered over them and jumped down to the other side.

  Flood warning sirens screeched, and she jolted, falling against a tetrapod. Why were they going off again? She stood and brushed herself off before pressing her palms to her ears.

  At least the building muffled some of the noise. Ahrisu stood by a fake tree, where a seagull was perched on a branch and a giant ladybug crawled up the trunk.

  Many of the rides were incomplete, and she placed where “vehicles” repurposed for the cable car tracks were supposed to be. A winding track without its colorful trains and spinning teacups weren’t spinning.

  The second floor was visible from here, but the glass walls showed nothing of the dimly lit interior.

  Ahrisu checked behind each ride. The only wet shoe prints were hers. The triplets weren’t hiding with the bumper cars, and she pulled back the dusty curtains of photo booths. Empty. Puddles formed the closer she drew to the floodwater coursing outside.

  The doors to the restrooms were locked with chains. Only grit and dried leaves clustered together in shallow pools, and the layer of dust on the revolving swings was undisturbed. She examined every three-person ride of a spaceship simulator using VR, as water trickled in through cracks in the boarded-up walls and doors.

  Across the way was the merry-go-round, as Ahrisu scanned between and behind the claw machines and game arcade. She reached a dead-end, splashing water.

  Graffiti was written and spray-painted on a metal shutter with a pattern of red, yellow, and blue stripes. 'NO MORE GODS' was written in thick red marker.

  The triplets disappeared. They must've gone home, right? It was fine if they told their parents about the weird girl who evaporated the floodwater with burning hands. She was leaving this place, anyways. Just as long as they went home.

  But a sick feeling took root in her stomach. It was instinct, a suspicion she couldn't put into words. No, she didn't want to.

  The woman waited under the Viking longship's platform and made a large "X" with her arms. Swallowing the hard lump in her throat, Ahrisu crawled over the sandbags, as the woman pointed at the exit near the Disco Pang Pang.

  She took the initiative, and Ahrisu fell into step behind her. The roads were flooded at a similar level, and sandbags were stacked in front of the entrances to buildings. If not for the sirens, it was as if she and the woman were the only two people in the world.

  The woman, not blocking her ears, gave Ahrisu a close-lipped smile and pointed at the exit by the car racing track.

  It wasn’t a far distance so the wide road and sidewalk were similarly flooded. A hefty pile of sandbags and tetrapods barricaded the entrance to the foot of the mountain. Nearby was a one-story building with a front porch, its wooden exterior darkened by the downpour.

  The sirens ceased. As the woman exhaled and lightly tapped her ears, Ahrisu wrapped her arms around her stomach. The sick feeling grew, and her insides twisted and churned. She leaned against the theme park's barrier, which depicted underwater scenery and sea creatures.

  “I thought it’d never end,” said the woman. “At least we know it works. Anyways, let’s hope the kids are not in any danger. Aside from the people still living in this neighborhood, I heard there’s also a moneyless community. Are you a part of it? Would anyone from there know where the girls went?”

  “I, I’m not sure," Ahrisu replied. "I’m not from around here either. The community is underground. The only entrance I know is there, that elevator.”

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  Where she pointed, the woman’s gaze followed, and she sucked in her teeth. “Oh. Yeah, it’s best not to go down there right now. But an underground community in a flood-prone area. Hmm. What’s it like? I came all this way to see it, but I’m not sure if I can today.”

  “It . . . It’s nice.”

  “Do they really not use any money? At all?”

  “They use yeopjeon.”

  “Yeopjeon?” The woman’s voice reached its highest pitch. “That’s so funny. I remember there used to be a market like that in Seoul. The old Seoul, a long, long time ago. You’d exchange money for yeopjeon and use them to ‘pay’ for various foods sold at the market. It was a pretty fun concept.”

  “It’s the same,” murmured Ahrisu. “They do the same here.”

  “I have to experience that at least once. Well, the rain has to end sooner or later. Nothing goes on forever. Oh?”

  At the woman’s quizzical tone, Ahrisu glanced in her direction.

  A plop. The sound came from a tree near the foot of the mountain, as if a large stone dropped in the water. Its surface rippled in echoing circles before it was erased by raindrops.

  “Look,” the woman whispered. “Over there.” She pointed at the building. Ahrisu bent forward and squinted to see through the rain.

  A cat-sized creature sat under the eave of the roof in a puddle. It had the long, sturdy body and sleek, dark brown fur, darker still because of the rain, of a river otter. But it wasn’t an otter because it had feathery gills, like blood veins, on both sides of its upper neck.

  “It’s a dogeundalgu,” said the woman, smiling. “With those gills, it’s able to stay deep underwater for a long time.”

  Ahrisu heard of this yogwe in passing, but had never seen it before in person. She tended to stay far away from the bodies of water they called home.

  As if sensing eyes on it, the dogeundalgu turned its head in their direction. Though its body was of an otter, its small face was more like a Siberian weasel.

  The yogwe reached into the pouches in its skin. When it withdrew its paws, it didn’t hold clams or stones, which sea otters liked to collect, but golden bracelets and rings and pearl necklaces.

  The dogeundalgu darted close to the edge of the porch and extended the jewelry towards them. Though faint, Ahrisu swore its round eyes and thin mouth were twisted in a sneer.

  “Oh, those rascals.” The woman chuckled under her breath. “Dogeundalgu love to show off their treasures to humans. Mockingly, of course. ‘Bet you’re envious,’ something like that. Do you want to look at it longer?”

  Not particularly, considering its behavior, and Ahrisu shook her head.

  “Watch this, then,” the woman grinned. Crossing her arms over her chest, she waded down the road. The dogeundalgu withdrew its paws, clutching its treasures close. When the woman didn’t stop, the yogwe stuffed the jewelry back into its pouches and dove into the water. Its slippery body slithered beneath the surface away from them.

  The woman snorted and walked back. While she wasn't looking, the dogeundalgu poked its head above water, its gills resembling the sun’s rays. With one final look, it disappeared below and skulked away.

  “They love boasting and showing off,” said the woman, “but from a safe distance, of course. It’s sort of like that, huh? Being all bark, but no bite. It’s like going ‘merong.’ Funny rascals.”

  Ahrisu gazed into the floodwater, her lilac rain boots shimmering. When she was little, only a bit older than the triplets, she had slept overnight in a small tunnel on a playground. She awoke to the sound of kids her age screaming and racing each other. Clean, well-dressed, well-fed, not a care in the world that she found too vast and cold. Their voices, as they taunted, “Merong,” at each other and stuck out their tongues, played in her ears, like an MP3 player.

  The sloshing of water snapped Ahrisu to attention, as the woman returned to the entrance.

  “It’s surprising, though,” she said. “I heard there weren’t many, if any, yogwe in Wolmido.” That was news to Ahrisu, who encountered more supernatural creatures than wild animals in her lifetime.

  “Ah, by the way,” the woman added. “Look at my manners. You can call me Ms. Go. What’s your name?”

  Ahrisu bowed and gave her name.

  “Aigoo,” exclaimed Ms. Go. “Have I been in the presence of the Dragon King of the Hangang this entire time? Forgive me for not recognizing you.” Her belly laugh returned in spades before she added, “You probably hear that a lot, right? I’m sorry.”

  Ahrisu had to talk to people often to hear that kind of joke, and she murmured, “It’s okay.”

  Upon Ms. Go suggesting they get out of the rain, they sheltered at the race track, though Ahrisu didn’t go near her belongings, yet. She was far too drenched for that.

  She pulled off her rain boots and grimaced at her socks and sweatpants sticking to her skin. After dumping out the water inside—and a cigarette butt, which she made a face at—she squeezed the ends of her pants as much as possible. Ahrisu peeled off her socks and wrung them. Her feet were white from the cold, though it was just a prickly feeling to her.

  “Aigoo-ya,” said Ms. Go, who hung her poncho over the railing of the elevated track. “Did you get that soaked looking for the girls? Do you have other clothes to change into? I can give you my raincoat to wear. It’s dry.”

  “It’s okay,” Ahrisu replied.

  In response, Ms. Go attempted every variation of “you’ll catch a cold” and “you’ll freeze to death,” which Ahrisu rebutted with the same “no, I’m okay,” on repeat. It only ended when Ahrisu put her socks back on, with effort because the fabric stuck to her skin.

  Spotting a dry area, she set her boots upside down and unzipped her jacket. She squeezed water out of her shirt, distorting the cartoon cat’s face. This was as dry as she was going to be so she marched back to the pillar.

  Ms. Go, reclining against the elevated pathway, looked out at the rain. “You know,” she said, as Ahrisu crouched in front of her backpack. “It’s such a strange feeling coming here after a long time. I visited this very place with my family. Long before the gods descended. Kids your age can’t imagine what the world used to be like. When reality was mythology and folktales.”

  As Ahrisu tucked Dalnim inside her backpack, Ms. Go muttered, “I remember riding that Ferris wheel. Never got to go on the Disco Pang Pang, though. Mom and Dad wouldn’t let me.”

  Ms. Go seemed knowledgeable about the supernatural so maybe she could answer the question Ahrisu couldn’t word or voice. Because she didn't know where to begin. Describing the girls and their behavior or going right into the crux of the issue . . .

  “Oh?” Ms. Go stepped towards the fence. “Over here!” she called out, waving her arms, like a windmill. “There are people over here!”

  A beam of light cut through the rain, and a man approached them, from the direction of the Disco Pang Pang. His dark navy poncho had yellow-green lines running across the lower chest. He carried a heavy duty flashlight in one hand and a walkie-talkie in the other. When Ms. Go called out that there were two of them here, the man spoke into the walkie-talkie before waving them over.

  “Is anyone injured?” he shouted. Ms. Go made a large “X” with her arms.

  It was time to go, and Ahrisu stuffed her sneakers and baseball cap in the drawstring bag.

  “Here, I’ll carry your bags,” said Ms. Go. “They won’t get wet under my poncho.”

  Ahrisu’s belongings were an extension of her body, but she preferred keeping them dry right now. “Are you sure?” she asked. “They’re really heavy.”

  “And I’m even stronger,” Ms. Go laughed. “Come on.” She pointed at her back with her thumbs, resembling a caped superhero. Which she was to Ahrisu, who helped her put on the backpack.

  “Do I need to bulk up or something?” said Ms. Go. “Why’d you think this would be too heavy for me?” Because it was too heavy for Ahrisu and she added the drawstring bag on top.

  Ms. Go hopped to adjust the weight before looking at Ahrisu, as if to say, “That’s it?” then remarked, “I carried heavier backpacks in school. Just help me put the poncho on, too.”

  Ahrisu did as she was told before quickly sliding into her boots and putting her hood on. She couldn't keep their rescuer waiting. They went back out into the rain, and the man bowed before illuminating their path to him. He led them to the exit by the Disco Pang Pang.

  Ms. Go slowed down, her gaze on the ride and the fishbowl it turned into. Perhaps it spun with colorful lights and tossed people around in her imagination, much like the merry-go-round for Ahrisu.

  Outside the theme park, another rescuer waited on an inflatable boat and handled the outboard motor engine. It rumbled, like a growling dog, but wasn’t as loud as the sirens.

  The woman helped them climb onboard, Ahrisu first, at Ms. Go’s insistence. The male rescuer stood in the floodwater and aimed his flashlight in different directions.

  “Is that everyone?” he asked.

  The feeling in Ahrisu’s gut returned. But she had to tell them about the girls, no matter what. So she spoke loudly to be heard over the engine, describing them and where she last saw them. The two rescuers looked at each other.

  “Are you sure they were triplets?” asked the woman. Ahrisu nodded. “Well,” she continued in a drawn-out tone, “we have triplets here. But not that young. I’m sorry.”

  When Ahrisu’s stomach collapsed to her feet, bile boiled in her throat. She wrung her fingers, their cold touch unfamiliar. Why did her instincts have to be right? The man boarded the boat while his partner turned the engine on, its power ripping through the rain.

  Why the girls wandered the theme park, why they didn’t speak, and, most importantly, why they sat on the swing away from the other kids. The kids, as young as they were, intuitively knew when someone wasn’t like them, not anymore.

  The boat turned around and sailed down the road. Ahrisu looked at her hands on her lap. She knew, too. But they were so little. Could they not leave the place where they . . .

  Her hood was pulled down to shield her face from the rain. Ms. Go held her hood with one hand and her own with the other. She smiled with mismatched eyes, the left having a double eyelid and the right without.

  Somehow, her sad smile hurt worse than words of comfort or explanation, and Ahrisu wiped her face, tears mixed in with rain.

  It wasn’t that she risked her life to save a ghost; the other two sisters sought help for a reason. It was only that she couldn’t save all three of them sooner. Why, when it was already too late?