Page 152 of A Forgery of Fate

“He left something for you,” Mailoh said.

She drew a long envelope from the pouch over her shoulder and placed it on the tray before she left.

Inside was the drawing I’d sketched before Baba’s last voyage. I traced the clumsy lines I’d made to illustrate my three sisters, Mama holding hands with Baba in front of hisship.

It was the very drawing Elang had promised to return when our contract was completed. I set it on my lap, remembering how much I’d loathed him then—for forcing me to marry him, for withholding information about Baba.

He had promised that our marriage would be dissolved once I finished painting the Dragon King. Never did I think to ask how.

We’ll go our separate ways,he’d said.You’ll never see me again.

I’d thought that it’d be as easy as cutting the red string around our wrists—I’d never thought that Elang would die.

But that had always been his plan. From the beginning, he’d known.

The tears welled again.

“Look at you, eyes and face all bloodshot and puffy,” said Shani, who appeared in a swirl of mist.

She crawled out onto my arm. Her movements were slow, as if she hadn’t recovered from her fight against Nazayun. She settled on the nook of my elbow, letting her wings fall on either side of my arm.

“Shani,” I said hoarsely, “everything you did. Was it all arranged—”

“I didn’t come to chat,” she said crisply. “I’m here to give you something.”

What,I meant to ask, but it hurt too much to speak.

“Memories. Some, I stole from you. Some, I stole from him.” Shani sniffed. “I’ve kept them all these years.” She sent me a pointed look. “They’re good ones, some might even make you smile.”

“I can’t smile right now.”

“We’ll see.” With that, Shani touched my forehead.

The water demon landed on the roof of the black palanquin with a thump.

She was new to land—unaccustomed to flying. Only yesterday she’d discarded her fins for wings. The new form wasn’t all bad: a phoenix with crystalline wings and a long gossamer tail. Her every feather contained the energy of a cascading waterfall, and her red eyes were brighter than rubies. A pity no one could see her.

“There she is,” she said to the young half dragon inside the carriage. She extended a wing toward a girl traversing the market street. “The Painter, who also happens to be your Heavenly Match.”

Elang held his breath and pinched the curtains to the side, glancing out the window. The stench of Gangsun assaulted his nostrils. There were few things he’d appreciated about living in Ai’long; not having to be around humans was one of them.

He looked to where Shani pointed, finding a young girl self-consciously holding a straw hat over her head.From his investigations, he knew her to beTruyan Saigas.

She was tall and reedy, with dull eyes and a round mole by her mouth. She looked unexceptional in every way.

“She’s a mercenary,” he said, closing the curtain. “Her intent is to make money, not cultivate her art.”

“What is your point?”

His expression hardened. “She won’t do.”

“The fates are already against you. Nazayun has her father, andshehas the Sight.”

“I’ll deal with her.” Elang’s tone was cold. “There are other Painters.”

“You think it’ll be that easy to kill her?”

“She’s been doomed ever since Grandfather hid my pearl in her heart.”

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