Page 135 of A Forgery of Fate

“It’s me,” he said softly. He bowed. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting.”

The paddle dropped from Mama’s hand, and Baba caught her in his arms as she fell back.

“Weina,” he started.

“Look at you.” She tapped his cheeks, pinching his earlobes. “You haven’t aged at all.” Her voice hitched. “You should’ve given some warning you were coming back. I would’ve braided my hair, put on some powder.” She sniffled, wriggling out of Baba’s arms onto her feet. “Gods, what must you think seeing me like this? These gray hairs and wrinkles under my eyes—all from worrying about you!”

There came a wheezy laugh under Baba’s breath. “You haven’t changed. Still exaggerating like you used to.”

“Exaggerating!”

He swept a loose hair from Mama’s temple. “You know what I think? I think today is my most joyous day. My children have bloomed into young women, and my wife has never looked more beautiful.”

It was true, I thought. I’d half expected to find Mama dressed in silken finery, enjoying all the luxuries Elang’s manor had to offer. But she wore simple twill robes and an apron, and the only jewelry was the same jade bangle she’d worn for years. The one Baba had given her as a wedding gift.

Mama crossed her arms, but a flush reddened her cheeks. “You and your silver tongue. All these years, and not a single letter? You’d better have a good reason for it.”

“Mama…,” I started, but Baba silenced me with a touch.

He reached into his pocket, handing Mama the wooden toy boat he’d once carved for me. “I was captured by the Dragon King.”

Mama’s arms fell to her sides. Her lower lip trembled.“What?”

“This is the boat I carved for the girls,” Baba said, trying to keep his tone light, despite the shadows that had fallen over his face. “I was trapped inside for years. It wasn’t so bad. I didn’t feel any pain—or anything, really. The next thing I knew, Tru was there to save me.”

“Tru saved you?” Mama turned to me then, pinching my cheek. “Thank Amana. I always knew that mole of yours was lucky.”

There was a crack in her voice, and she sniffed, trying to hide it. “You must be hungry, the both of you. Breakfast is nearly ready. This weather makes me famished. It’s the coldest winter we’ve had since I was a girl, and all this ice came about last night. Will you look outside—my persimmon trees are doomed!”

“You’ve been gardening?” I asked, surprised. I noted the oil stains on her apron. “And cooking?”

“Every day,” chirped Nomi. “Miracles do happen.”

Mama glowered at her youngest, then she began scooping congee into an assortment of wooden bowls. I hadn’t seen her so busy in years. Here was a glimmer of her old self, strong and boisterous and always moving. It warmed me to see.

“The clapping magic got tiresome after a while,” she said. “The congee was always too salty.” Her eyes were bleary, her voice cracking as she spoke, but she was doing her best to hide it. “Anyhow, there’s nothing else to do around here. So I cook, Fal makes clothes, Nomi tinkers with ways to destroy the manor.”

She set three bowls on a tray. “Your contract is done, I take it. Where is Lord Elang? He said he’d bring you back, but he’s nowhere to be seen. A good son-in-law should keep his word.”

“Son-in-law?” Baba repeated. “Does that mean…Tru?”

“She hasn’t told you?” Fal asked slyly. “That’d be the Demon Prince. Oh, don’t worry, he’s not an actual demon, he’s just—”

“My husband,” I said thickly. I touched my chest, remembering the butterflies that sat over my heart. “We married right before I left for Ai’long.”

“You should have seen the wedding,” gushed Mama, who seemed to have forgotten her disdain for the event. “It was a grand affair. Even the governor came! And I combed Tru’s hair the night before like how your mother combed mine. She was so beautiful.”

Mama dabbed her eyes with her sleeves. “Oh, damn these onions. They’re hurting my eyes.” She blinked, and I noticed that there were no onions in the kitchen, only watercress, carrots, and snow peas.

Baba saw right through Mama’s ruse. He touched her arm. “I’ll stay and help you. Let the children eat first.”

My sisters and I quickly excused ourselves. We shuffled down the long hallway, carrying bowls of congee and huddling together as though we were children again, picking up from that last morning Baba was home. A painting of the Eight Immortals hung on the wall, and as I passed it, my chest tightened.

Falina linked arms with me, oblivious to my thoughts. “He’s really back,” she breathed. “And you, Tru. Just in time for the New Year.”

“It’s perfect timing.” Nomi clapped. “I’ve been making my own fireworks, but Mama thinks they’re too dangerous to test in the garden.” She plopped onto a chair in the dining chamber. “Now that you’re back, we can finally go out again, right? I can smell the festival food from Bading Street.”

My smile wavered. How did I tell her I couldn’t leave the manor?

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