Page 104 of A Forgery of Fate

“You’re bleeding. You need a bandage.”

“That isn’t urgent right now.” Elang pulled me up, lifting me above a mess of ripped scrolls and overturned chests. Sanheia flowers floated everywhere. Their stems were snapped, the petals shriveled up like flakes of black snow.

I almost didn’t dare to ask: “The sangi, is it—”

“Destroyed.” Elang held up a single rose. “This is all that’s left. Barely enough to make a day’s supply.” He crumbled the petals in his hand, trying to hold in his anger. “The dose you took this morning was the last I’d prepared.”

Its bitterness still lingered on my lips. “Why would Caisan let in the patrols?”

“I’ve told you before, not everyone in this castle can be trusted.”

“Surely, he had a reason.” I frowned. Caisan was far from my favorite creature in Yonsar, but I’d thought him loyal.

As if he could read my thoughts, Elang said, “I never said anyone in this castle was disloyal. A spy can be bribed, they can be coerced.” His jaw drew tight. “Sometimes they act because they have no choice.”

“You think he was threatened?”

“I don’t know.” His expression was grim, and he reached into a chest for a satchel, then swung it over his head. “I’ll question him when I return.”

“Return?” My eyes widened with realization. “You’re leaving!”

“I’ve no choice but to go to Gangsun. You need sangi.”

“Then I’m coming too.”

“You will stay.” He was firm. “This is what Nazayun wants—for you to abandon the safety of the castle.”

“But my family—”

“Will only be endangered by your presence. You have to focus on our mission.”

My heart clenched. I hated that he was right. I missed Mama and my sisters so much.

“What about you?” I took his arm. “You…you’re hurt.”

As I spoke, I saw justhowhurt. I gently rotated his arm, not letting go when he twisted away. I could see the angry red cuts the barbs had left. Worse yet, across his back was a gruesome network of scars. Lacerations and slash marks, like one got from a fight, and deeper, shorter cuts…as though someone had tried to gouge out his scales.

Most of the scars looked old, faded over years—except fora wound below his left shoulder. It was still pink, still deep and malicious. Almost certainly from being recently stabbed.

“Who did this to you?” I asked.

“Various assassins” was his brusque reply. “They’re nothing.”

“The barbs—”

“Forgive me, Tru.” He shook my hand off his arm. “But every second I linger here is valuable time onshore. Keep close to Shani and don’t leave the castle.”

He touched his spectacles, and a mask materialized in their place. He pressed it to his face.

I hadn’t seen him wear the mask in weeks. It seemed to sever the fragile friendship we had built together, leaving us strangers once more.

“I’ll tell your family you said hello,” he said.

And without another word, he was gone.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The castle was in turmoil, turtles combing every nook and cranny for intruders. I’d gotten used to the muffled rumbles from outside—of the patrols trying to wear down the castle wards. But now each sound jolted me.

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