Page 142 of A Forgery of Fate

I knew how to break his curse.

Chapter Forty-One

It was the last day of the dragon year. The rain had finally stopped, and lanterns bobbed from the roofs all across Gangsun. Branches laden with plum blossoms arced over the streets, and pots of waterbells dotted every garden, the fresh scent of spring rising from the frost. All auspicious signs for the new year to come, but if you looked closely at the harbor, the water had turned a dark and foreboding gray.

Back at the manor, my family surrounded me. No one dared make a sound as I bent forward to make my final brushstroke—the mysterious red light gleaming in Nazayun’s eye.

Holding my breath, I swept my brush upward with a small flick of the wrist.There.

“It’s finished,” I said, hardly able to believe it.

I stepped back.

In my painting, King Nazayun loomed tall, his claws extended and lightning flashing from his horns and whiskers. His tail lashed out behind him, light and shadows dancing off each scale of his body. He looked so real that part of me expected him to leap off the Scroll, to whisk me away intothe sea. But he remained unmoving on the parchment, his merciless smirk making me shudder.

After giving the Scroll a moment to dry, I gave its black handle a tap. It never ceased to amaze me how the reams of paper rolled themselves, whooshing back into the threads around my wrist and leaving no trace of the priceless relic Elang had entrusted to me.

Once the Scroll was back in its place, though, that wonder was gone. My hands trembled. Not because I’d been painting for days and barely sleeping. I was on edge. Morning had passed, and the day was aging fast. Too soon I would face the Dragon King. There was no guarantee that I’d come back alive.

The last thing I did was wash the paint from my hands and tuck a tiny vial of sangi into my shoe—a dose good for a few minutes. I hoped I wouldn’t need it.

“Can’t we come with you?” Falina asked as I mounted the horse Tangyor had prepared. “We can help.”

“Stay in the manor,” I told my sisters. “You’ll be safehere.”

“But—”

“I need to go alone,” I said, cutting off their protests. After hours of strategizing with Caisan, we had agreed this was the best course. There was no guarantee of success, but we could at least minimize the risk of failure.

“Take this,” said Nomi, passing me what looked like a thin firecracker. Seeing my skepticism, she added, “It’s small but mighty. Trust me. You don’t even need a flame, just pull the string.” She winked. “Just be careful not to get too close.”

“Thank you.” I pocketed it, then I kissed Nomi and Falina on their cheeks and nodded to Mama and Baba. “I’ll see you tonight.”

I urged my horse into motion. The sun was high, yet below the hills, the harbor was black as ink. Nazayun couldn’t be far.

I was almost at the bottom of the hill when the birds stopped chirping and the wind stopped teasing the loose pebbles across the road. My horse skittered, his forelegs bracing with apprehension.

“Steady,” I murmured. I tightened the reins, compelling him to keep going. “Steady.”

Tangyor had promised that my horse was the manor’s most intrepid. He could ride through storm and blaze, unafraid of tigers and snakes and sword-wielding assassins.

But most valuable of all, he had a unique ability to sense—

“Demon,” I cried, a beat before Shani flew out of the trees, her talons arcing forward like scythes. With a rattling snort, my horse reared.

I jumped off his back. “Get,” I shouted, sending my horse back up Oyang Street.

There was no running from Shani. From behind, she tackled me to the ground and tore Elang’s cloak off my neck.

“Where is the Scroll?” she bellowed, finding only the string of fate around my wrist.

Inside I was trembling, but I gave the demon my most brazen smile.

“You really want to die, don’t you?” Shani snarled. “As you wish.”

Down came her talons, clawing at my head. As she looped her tail around my waist, the last thing I saw were red eyes burning away the edges of the world.

Chapter Forty-Two

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