other side of the island, has no way of know-
ing how close the Japanese are.
I jolt out of paralysis, shoving my cattle
prod at Sook. “Stay here. I’ve got to warn the
armada.”
“Wait,” she cries, “I’ll go, too—”
“No, I’ll be faster alone. Besides,” I frown
at the anchored fleet, “if they move, I need
you to see when and where they go.”
At those words, Sook’s frightened look
steels into determination. “I understand.”
“Good. I’m counting on you.” Praying
I’d make it in time, I sprint off.THE SUN IS setting when I reach Dangpo.
The outskirts are deserted; everyone’s at the
wharf, where ranks of wide warships jostle in
the water. As I race to the harbor, I pass sev-
eral burned buildings.
My stomach twists at the memory of last
month’s attack, and I run faster.
I’m breathless when I reach the quay.
Amid the swarms of marines and locals, I
spot the magistrate by the charred garrison
walls. But as I start toward him, someone
snatches me by the collar.
“Cheonson!” Grandfather snarls. “Why
are you here?”
Half-choked by his grip, I can’t form a
response. Grandfather scowls, taking my silence
for guilt. “Disobedient boy. I told you—”
I wrench free. Grandfather’s arm whips up,
but before he can strike, I gulp air and yell,
“Enemy ships are at Gyonnaeryang Strait!”
Everyone freezes, the summer air sud-
denly chill with fear. Then two men elbowthrough the crowd: a tall officer and Uncle
Joonsa.
“Cheonson,” says Uncle, rushing up to
me. “Tell me what you saw.”
“About fifty ships anchored in the strait,”
I blurt. “Twenty more coming from the east. I
left Sook watching from the upper pasture.”
Uncle looks at the officer. “Cheonson’s
my nephew. He wouldn’t lie about this.”
The man frowns then booms, “Summon
the commanders. And get two horses.
Everyone else prepare to launch at dawn.”
As marines scramble to obey, the offi-
cer says to Uncle, “Kim Joonsa, guide my
lieutenant to that pasture and confirm your
nephew’s report.”
“Yes, Admiral Yi!”
Uncle dashes off, leaving me to gape
at the man who commanded the Korean
armada. Turning to my stunned grandfather,
the admiral says, “Pardon, sir, but we need to
borrow your boy for some questions.”HOURS LATER, OFFICERS continue
strategizing inside the garrison as I sit outside,
staring at the fleet. The boxy warships creak
in the moonlight as if protesting the coming
battle. I don’t blame them.
After all, they’re outnumbered.
I thought our armada was at least a
hundred ships strong. As it turns out, Korea
has only fifty-five warships to its name.
Meanwhile, Uncle returned to report seventy-
three enemy vessels in Gyonnaeryang Strait.
I shiver. Last month’s attack on Dangpo
pitted twenty-three Korean ships againstQUAY
(PRONOUNCED
KEY) IS A
PLATFORM
ALONG OR
EXTENDING
INTO THE
WATER FOR
DOCKING
BOATS.