Simon saw the prisoner’s lower jaw quiver ever so slightly. “I met Moses about two years ago.” Everyone instinctively leaned forward. “It was across the border, at a safe house there.”

  “Where was the safe house?” another man asked. “What town?” A nudge from Mal-Chin silenced him.

  The newcomer took a shaky breath before he continued. “I was like you. I had heard legends about him. When I got the chance to meet him, I was terrified. Scared he wouldn’t be everything I thought he was.” He paused and stared hard at the men surrounding him. “But he was. And even more.”

  “How does he cross the border so many times without getting caught, do you think?”

  “How often does he visit Pyongyang?”

  “When does he expect we’ll all be free?”

  Simon asked as many questions as the others, and even Mal-Chin joined in with a few of his own. It grew obvious there would be no more reasonable discussion, so the men dispersed with plans to meet again in four nights. Simon noticed the unusual lightness in Mal-Chin’s step as they returned to the mass of sleeping prisoners, but he only felt tired. So Moses wasn’t just a myth, but what good would that do tomorrow when Simon took his blistered hands and shoveled coal all day long? Would eyewitness proof of Moses’ existence bring him one step closer to seeing Hannah again before the National Security Agency killed them both?

  He stayed awake long after Mal-Chin’s contented snores joined in with all the other nighttime sounds in the Camp 22 dorm.

  CHAPTER 18

  She heard muffled sounds outside her bedroom door and sat up, trying to remember if she had actually fallen asleep or not. It was before dawn. The chickens weren’t even ready to awaken the world with their clucking. Hannah hadn’t bothered to undress the night before, so she stepped out of bed, straightened her blouse, and tiptoed to the door. She couldn’t decide if she should wait for Mr. Kim to summon her or just go out there, so she paused at the threshold, waiting in the dark.

  “She still favors her leg when walking,” Mr. Kim was saying.

  “She’ll need to go slow.” It was Kwan’s voice. Had he spent the night at the safe house, then? A soft tapping made Hannah take a quick step back. “Are you awake?” Kwan whispered. She paused for a moment so nobody could tell she had been standing there already and then opened the door. Kwan studied her face with concern and glanced down at her leg. “Did you get some rest? It’s going to be a long way.”

  Mr. Kim had his back to her and was filling a small sack with rolls. He held the package out to Kwan. “Make sure she wears a coat.”

  “Are you ready?” Kwan held up the bag. “We’ll eat our breakfast on the way.”

  Until now, Hannah had assumed Mr. Kim would escort her. She tried to hide her surprise. “I think so. I just need ...” She eyed the back door.

  Kwan shuffled his feet. “I’ll meet you outside in a minute.”

  Hannah put on her shoes and made her way to the outhouse. Her leg was stiff but not terribly sore yet. She wondered how long their hike would take. Most of all, she wondered what kind of man was waiting for her at the end of their journey.

  Kwan avoided her gaze when she came out the outhouse. They fell into a plodding rhythm which wasn’t exactly easy, but at least Hannah could keep up. “So you’ve known Mr. Kim for a while?” she asked once she grew accustomed to the pace.

  “You could say that.”

  She noticed the way his shoulders tensed up at the question, and she tried to find another subject. “What exactly is it that Moses does?”

  Kwan chuckled while holding a branch back to allow her to pass by. “A better question is what he doesn’t do.” She hoped that wasn’t the only answer she was going to get. After another moment, he continued, “He’s known for lots of things, depending on who you ask. Smuggling Bibles. He’s got important contacts in Pyongyang. If a Christian leader’s about to be arrested, he sneaks them over the border. A few times, he’s even managed to free someone condemned to execution.”

  She immediately thought of Simon. “How’s he manage that?”

  Kwan mopped his brow. “Those aren’t the kind of questions you ask.”

  She kept her mouth shut. The early sun lit up the sky in a brilliant display of more orange and red tones than she could name. The forest floor was mushy, and the earthy scent of decaying leaves wafted around them. Hannah felt her ankle swelling up slightly, but Kwan was considerate enough to stay slow. She was sure he could bound up the mountain in a fraction of the time it was taking her.

  As they walked on, they passed dry streambeds filled with dead leaves, and Hannah thought about the fall day over a year ago when she first arrived at the Sterns’. She had come to Yanji searching for Woong, the flower-swallow from the streets who had disappeared one night while she slept. As her hunt led only to greater disappointment and brought her closer to starvation, she eventually stopped looking for him and focused on her own survival. She wasn’t experienced, not like the Yanji girls parading around in miniskirts, but she knew enough to understand her safety was at risk if she didn’t find shelter soon.

  Hannah’s arrival at the Sterns’ was nothing less than divine providence. Three Chinese pastors had turned her away before one Korean-speaking minister told her about the couple living on the outskirts of the city limits. “They are American. They have less to lose if they are caught by the police.” With apologies for not being able to help her directly, the pastor gave her directions to the Sterns’ home.

  Hannah closed her eyes for a moment and breathed in the thin, crisp air. The chill pricked at her lungs, and when she exhaled, her breath came out in a cloudy fog. She thought about everything she had experienced since last fall and wondered how a life could change so drastically in a single year.

  Kwan stopped on the trail in front of her and shuffled his feet in the dirt.

  “Are we almost there?” she asked hopefully.

  Kwan squirmed and glanced at his hands. “I’m ... I’m sorry. We need to ...” He looked around from one side of the woods to the other. Why was he acting so nervous? Had somebody followed them? He cracked his knuckles, and she winced involuntarily. “You see ...” The cold air forced miniature tears to the corners of her eyes. They were too small to blink away. He reached deep into his pocket. The black cloth he pulled out hung limp in his hand. “You need to put this on.” The words that followed were so mumbled she wasn’t certain what they were, but she guessed by his body language he was apologizing again.

  She reached out for the cloth. It was a mask of sorts that covered the entire face, but the two slits that would have allowed her to see were sewn shut with thick white thread. “You want me to wear this?”

  Kwan didn’t raise his eyes from the forest floor.

  For the first time, she wished she had told Mr. Kim she wasn’t ready to get involved in underground ministry again. She was too young. Her leg wasn’t fully healed. And her time in Chongjin ... Hannah had enough nightmares. She didn’t want to go back. She’d find another way to help her compatriots. She’d speak in South Korean churches about the need for more Bibles or go back to the Sterns’ and help refugees in Yanji. Her hand trembled as she put the mask over her face. Each time she breathed, tiny beads of cotton threatened to lodge in her lungs. She had no idea what she was doing, but she wasn’t ready for it. She probably would never be ready. She remembered the darkness of her jail cell in Chongjin, and her body quivered against her will. Her ankle throbbed, and she couldn’t take a full breath without breathing in lint.

  Kwan pressed his hand into the small of her back. “Are you ready?”

  At first, Hannah couldn’t decide if it was more bearable to keep her eyes open or shut in the crude mask. She blinked once and coughed, the steam from her breath warming her entire face. “I’m ready.” It was the first time she lied since leaving Chongjin.

  Tears of humiliation stung her eyes when Kwan took her hand to lead her farther up the trail. Would God really lead her now to a ministry apart from Simon, call her to a life of service while Simon languished in prison camp or some jail cell? If only she were imprisoned with him. If only they were together to share some encouragement, some support. What wouldn’t she do for the chance to sing just one more hymn together? She missed the strong sound of his voice, his soothing laughter, his calm and quiet responses to all her questions about faith and the Bible. She didn’t want to be here, out in the open, the birds chirping, the air cool and refreshing. She didn’t want to be here with another man, a man who didn’t know her past, who didn’t understand her like Simon did. She hated questioning God’s perfect plans, but the ache inside her swelled like a consuming flame as Kwan cleared his throat and made that horrible popping sound with his fingers.

  “We’re here.”

  She expected him to remove the blindfold so she could meet her interviewer face to face, but he just told her to duck slightly. He positioned a chair beneath her, and she realized the mask was to remain. The breeze was gone; they were indoors, but it was just as cold as it had been outside. The air felt heavy, and it was filled with a strange electricity Hannah didn’t recognize. She took a breath to steady herself, but some more fuzz from the mask caught in her nostrils.

  “I’ll see you when you’re done.” Kwan touched her gently on the elbow.

  Hannah sat up straight. “You’re leaving?”

  “It’s for your own safety.” She heard the snapping of his finger joints and the receding steps of his shoes, and before long, even those sounds were gone.

  She shut her eyes, which somehow made her feel like she could control the darkness around her. She stretched her arms out just a little to see if she could learn anything about her surroundings. The breeze flapped past. She longed for a breath of fresh air and wondered if someone could actually suffocate in this kind of mask. For a moment, she feared the entire meeting was a set-up. What if Moses wasn’t really coming? What if it was a member of the Chinese police force, ready to take her back to North Korea? She’d be at the Chongjin jail by evening.

  Her mind raced in a jumble of directions, with thoughts and fears flying haphazardly through her brain. She sat on her hands and tried counting slowly in her head. One ... Two ... If nothing happened by the time she reached ten, she would tear the mask off, regardless of the consequences.

  Three ... Four ...

  “You must be Hannah.” The sound nearly made her fall out of her seat. She had no idea how large of a room she was in, but she felt the walls shrinking all around her. The stranger’s voice was smooth, almost silky. “You have had a long journey, little warrior.”

  The diminutive drained the blood from Hannah’s brain. The steamed roll she had eaten along the path sat like a stone in her gut, and she had to focus all her mental powers to keep it down where it belonged. A hand was on her shoulder, a hand that communicated both danger and power. Her instinct was to pull away, but her body refused.

  “I apologize for such primitive hospitality.”

  Hannah’s ankle ached. Her mouth was dry, and she was acutely aware of her chest rising and falling. If only she could lift the mask up and breathe normally. His fingers ran across her chin, and she sensed his hand was strong enough to snap her neck right there if he wanted her dead.

  “There now,” he crooned and lifted the mask just above her nose. The smell of rotting compost battled against the hint of strange cologne.

  Hannah didn’t realize her hands were clenched to the bottom of her chair until her shoulders protested from the tension. Her mouth was free, but her voice was gone. She may as well have left it back at the safe house in Sanhe.

  “Is that better?”

  Her body responded to the softness of his voice by relaxing. “Thank you.” The words were out of her mouth before she even thought them. She still couldn’t see anything through the sewn-up eyeholes, but she felt his smile on her, and she was no longer nauseated. Tentatively, she took a few deep breaths until her dizzy spell subsided.

  “Now.” That one word, spoken alone as if it were a statement of extreme significance, revealed the authority of its speaker, and Hannah’s body leaned forward slightly. She had never heard such raw power so densely packed into a single syllable.

  “I understand you made a big impact in Chongjin. Not many girls your age could have kept silent through so much.”

  She didn’t want to think about Chongjin. “I was only trying to protect the mission.” She couldn’t explain why she felt like she had somehow just betrayed Simon.

  Moses’ voice contained the hint of a grin, but his words were drawn out so they sounded long and serious. “Yes, your mission. I’m very curious about the training you received at the Sterns’.”

  Hannah’s spine straightened, just a small jolt she hoped he didn’t observe. She leafed through the annals of her memory. Had she ever mentioned the Sterns by name to Mr. Kim or Kwan or anyone else? The dizziness returned in full force, and she pressed against her temples in protest.

  Moses either didn’t notice or didn’t acknowledge her change in demeanor. “So, you were one of those sent out from this so-called ‘Secret Seminary.’ Am I correct?”

  Thirsty. Hannah was thirsty. She opened her mouth once or twice but failed to produce any sound. A moment later, a hand caressed the back of her head, cradling her cranium, and a cool bottle was lifted gently to her lips. The liquid slipped down her throat. A tiny dribble spilled on her chin, and Moses wiped it away with the corner of his sleeve, making a kind of clucking sound like a mother might make over her sick child. His finger brushed against her cheek for a fraction of a second, and Hannah remembered the way she used to tuck the street children in with tattered rags or discarded blankets.

  “I apologize.” Moses’ voice filled the room. “You have had a long journey. You’re tired. This meeting must cause you a great deal of stress ... the mask and the secrecy. Forgive me. I’m not ...” Moses faltered, and Hannah couldn’t tell if it was for effect or if he truly was baffled. “I’m not used to dealing with people like you.” Hannah frowned, and Moses stumbled over his next words several times as if he were an awkward schoolboy. “You’re young, you see. Not that you haven’t endured a lifetime of trials already. It’s just that ...”

  “I understand,” Hannah interjected, not because she truly did, but because she felt sorry for him while he faltered. “It’s all right.”

  A blanket of warmth descended in the room, and a slight breeze carried the scent of pine. Moses laughed, not a hearty belly laugh, but a quiet, calming sort of chuckle that chased away the sharp prickles and nagging doubts that had oppressed Hannah since the beginning of their interview.

  “You are a remarkable young woman.”

  Hannah blushed and didn’t even care if he noticed or not. She couldn’t even guess how long the interview lasted. When it was over, Moses took her gently by the elbow and led her outside. He told her to wait for Kwan, reminded her not to remove the blindfold, and assured her that he held her in the highest esteem. She thought back on their conversation and couldn’t have said if they had spent twenty minutes or several hours together.

  Shortly after Moses took his leave, Kwan returned. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  She nodded, blinking when he took off the mask. The sun glared overhead. She shielded her eyes, and they started their silent trek back down the mountain. Their descent was even slower than their hike up, and Hannah had to stop to rest her leg every ten minutes or so. Kwan treated her with great respect and patience, but she felt her spirit reaching back toward Moses. She thought about the Christian men who had influenced her in the past — Mr. Stern with his foreign accent and his emphasis on theology and book learning, Simon and his fiercely loyal and steadfast spirit. None of her past encounters had prepared her for someone like Moses. When he spoke to her, his words flowed like the Tumen River with the first melting of the snow — powerful, captivating, unyielding. There was also a hint of wildness, a suggestion of danger she couldn’t quite explain. She wondered if this was what the New Testament writers meant when they said Jesus spoke to the crowds as one with great authority.

  Even with her mask off, she was silent for most of the return hike and couldn’t decide if she felt more somber or emboldened from Moses’ interview. It certainly wasn’t what she had expected. It started out so formal, so calculating. There was an almost haughty aloofness about him that came out more in his presence than in his words or tone. And then, as fast as a summer storm vanishes after drenching everything in its path, all that changed. She couldn’t exactly remember how or when the atmosphere transformed, but the results were dramatic. Moses knew of the Sterns, and she found such sweet release to be able to talk to someone about her time in the Secret Seminary. He even asked about Simon, and Hannah’s body trembled as she freed her memories. She told Moses everything, everything except about how Simon broke down under the weight of interrogation. She recounted the way he found her in the woods, the peace she felt when they were together, and Moses spoke of Simon as if he also knew him and loved him deeply. Other times, he seemed content just to listen. He was so good at that, so good at drawing out the words Hannah’s soul needed to communicate to somebody, anybody who would understand.

  As they walked down the mountain trail, Kwan glanced behind at Hannah every once in a while. She was afraid he was going to ask her a question and break the peaceful, blissful calm that had overcome her soul. She let the fresh air fill her lungs until she was certain they would burst from fullness. She replayed in her mind all the instructions Moses gave her for her first mission. She was ready.

  And this time, she wouldn’t fail.

  ***

  “Hey, where’s that boy?”

  “Yeah, I thought he was coming back to tell us more about Moses.”