Page 109 of A Forgery of Fate

“This entire time, youknew.”

“Of course I knew. You think Elang’anmi could’ve survived so many years in exile without my help?” A scoff. “The longest five years of my life, living on that hellhole you humans call land. And more than half of it was wasted on pursuing the likes of you.”

“I knew it couldn’t have been a coincidence,” I said. “Me falling into his garden. Him needing a painter.”

“You should’ve listened to your instincts.” Shani twirled the opal ring around her tail. “I knew all that gold would muddy your senses.”

“Did he plan this?”

“There are few things that Elang’anmi does not plan.”

I felt sick inside as the confusion evaporated out of me, leaving a flare of anger in its wake. “Did he plant Yargui’s men too?” I demanded. “The attack on the noodle house? Hisdeath?”

“Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. What does it matter? In a few weeks, you’ll never see each other again.”

“Of course it matters. He’s—”

“Your husband?” Shani managed to pluck the last words I was going to use. “Be upset all you want, but I wouldn’t waste my breath if I were you.” She smirked. “Don’t forget, you’re short on sangi.”

She dissolved back into mist before I could reply.

I crumpled the waterbell, loosening my fist just before the petals broke. Yes, I was angry with him. When I went too long without blinking, I could see little white stars floating in the sea, specters of my fury. But beneath the anger was a knot of emotion far sharper, far more difficult to untangle…. The feeling that I’d lost something dear.

Was it because I’d finally begun to like Elang, even think of him as a friend?

My chest tightened. Or was it because wehadbeen friends all along—and I’d never known it?

Shani was right; it didn’t matter. Soon enough our link would be severed, and we’d go our separate ways. Me, home to my family. To live and grow old and tell tales about my time among the dragons until the memories faded and even Elang’s face became a blur of the past.

There was only one problem, I thought, as I blew the waterbell off my hand, letting it float free.

I never forgot a face.

Chapter Thirty-One

I was in the kitchen, hand-rolling noodles for breakfast, when I felt the change in the water.

A rumble came from outside, followed by the sounds of a skirmish. Shouts. Spears clanking. It didn’t last long. Soon afterward was joyous celebration and an extra shimmer of warmth riding in the currents.

Elang was back.

I heard Mailoh fuss over him, her voice jumping an octave. Meanwhile I slapped my raw noodles against the table, cutting them thin as ribbons. My soup was near boiling.

That was how he found me, cooking with my back to the door.

“A little early for noodles, isn’t it?” he said when I didn’t turn around.

Gaari had adored noodles for breakfast, a memory that only fueled my anger. I bunched the dough together and made a sharp slice across. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Elang drew closer behind me. “I have the sanheia,” he said, sounding worried. “Give me a moment to prepare it.”

I clanged the lid back onto my pot and turned to regardhim. He looked tired. His eyes were duller, his scales less vibrant. Any other day, I would have asked whether he was hurt, but I was in an arch mood.

I inclined my head to the bundle under his arm, wrapped in cheerful red paper.

“That doesn’t look like sanheia,” I remarked.

“I brought gifts from your family. I told your sisters how much you hate taking sangi, so they sent something to sweeten the ordeal.”

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