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hand as a caution.
    "But there is a more difficult question. From what you have told me, it is clearly a great advantage—perhaps too great. Yet you say that there would be no advantage without skill. It is you yourself, and your brother, who must decide if it is honorable."
    Young-sup bowed in farewell and thanks. The old man returned his bow.
    "I will be watching for you at the competition, young flier. The best of luck to you, whatever you decide."

Chapter Twelve

    The King dismissed his courtiers, then bounded down from the throne.
    "I'm so glad you came! I've been seeing your kites from the garden. I wanted to come out, but I couldn't. It's been so busy here because of the holiday."
    It was three days before the competition. Kee-sup and Young-sup had come to the palace on two missions: To fetch the King's kite for a few practice sessions and to discuss the use of the special line.
    They sat again in the small room off the throne hall. A servant brought a tray of sweets, the fanciest and most delicious the two brothers had ever eaten. There were cakes with honey and almonds, with pine nuts, with hidden pockets of sweet bean paste. It was hard not to be greedy.
    "Good, aren't they?" said the King when they had finished. "Special, for the New Year. Now, it looks as though you have something to tell me. And I have something to tell you. Who shall go first?"

    "You, of course,
Your Majesty
" Young-sup mocked.
    "Very funny. Well, I will, anyway. I have two things to tell you. First, I was thinking about last year's kite fights. I remembered that everyone was talking about the boy who won, because he had also won the year before."
    The King wrinkled his brow in thought. "His name is Kim Hee-nam. He will be your greatest competition. I don't think anyone else from last year can fly like you"—he looked at Young-sup—"and certainly no one else will have so fine a kite." Kee-sup nodded a tiny bow of thanks at the compliment.
    "The second thing. I know I made the right decision not to fly myself. But Kee-sup, you made the kite, and Young-sup, you will fly it. What am I doing? Nothing. I want to do
something
—even something little. So I've been thinking and thinking, and finally an idea came to me."
    The King rose from his cushion and crossed the room. On a shelf stood a lacquerware box. He lifted the lid, took something out, and brought it back to the table.
    It was a large hank of sky-blue silk line. The brothers touched it curiously.

    "It's the finest-quality line. I didn't get a reel, because I thought you would want to use yours." He nodded at Young-sup.
    "Why blue?" Kee-sup asked.
    The King's eyes shone. "That's the best part. I thought that a line this color would be harder to see, you know, with the sky behind it. If your opponents can't see the line very well, they may have more difficulty cutting it."
    Young-sup shouted with laughter. "An invisible line! What an idea!" And Kee-sup, too, was enthusiastic.
    The King was pleased. "Now, what did you want to tell me?"
    The brothers grew sober at once. Kee-sup explained in detail the process of making the pottery-coated line. Young-sup spoke of using it, and of his conversation with the old kite seller. He finished by saying, "We are flying for you, so we thought you should be the one to decide."
    The King folded his arms and furrowed his brow. He stared at nothing for a long moment while the brothers waited.
    "It's like this." The King spoke thoughtfully. "The
best way to win is with a line cut, right? Not only because it's the most exciting, but also because its form is the finest. You don't have one kite crashing to the ground. Instead, the losing kite flies away. That's a much more dignified way for a kite and a flier to lose, don't you think?"

    Young-sup felt a quiet admiration for the King on hearing his words. He glanced at Kee-sup and sensed from his expression that his brother felt the same.
    The King continued, "I am thinking that this year using