Page 36 of A Forgery of Fate

How long had the Demon Prince resided in Gangsun? It couldn’t have been more than three or four years. With allthis art, surely I would have heard his name among the city’s prominent collectors. Then again, I’d always left the auctions to Gaari.

At the memory of Gaari, my steps grew heavy. He’d been more than my business partner; he’d been my mentor, my confidant, my friend. And because of me, he was dead. Biting my cheek to keep from crying, I looked away from the art and directed my gaze straight ahead.

Our destination was a small library that smelled of paper and dried ink. Two sculptures of whales framed the doorway, but my eyes jumped straight to the desk, which bore stacks of books—many of which were about painting. Beside a reading lamp was a pair of brass-rimmed spectacles and an open box filled with writing brushes.

So I was dealing with a learned monster. Nomi would say that was the most dangerous kind.

The air was warm, and a sweet and herbal smell came from a pot on a corner table. “Tea?” offered Elang. “It’s chamomile, fresh from the Spice Road.”

My imagination yanked me forward in time, past a sip of poisoned tea to Elang standing over my corpse, steeping my soul in a kettle before he drank.

“I’m not here to have tea with you.”

“Suit yourself.”

I sat, gravitating naturally to the green cushion across from his desk. I sank, muscles sighing as the silk soothed my bruised side. I hadn’t realized how exhausted I was; I could have fallen asleep right then and there. If not for Elang.

Here in this house, surrounded by books and teacups, he seemed less a monster and more a man. But I knew better than to lower my guard.

“Who are you?” I demanded once again. “You consort with demons, you have turtles who do your bidding, and you wield…magic.” I paused. “Whatare you?”

“Many would like to know, but few are privileged with the truth.” He sipped. “You have the Sight. You tell me what Iam.”

I would have gritted my teeth if not for the pain in my jaw. He was really starting to get under my skin.

“You’re not a demon,” I said aloud.

“Because of my eyes?” He made a point of blinking. “Your sister knows her lore.”

Of course he’d heard that. His ears were sharp, literally.

“Demons do not keep manors on the most expensive street in Gangsun,” I said, “or parade about in masks, or idle themselves with corrupt government officials.”

His eyes narrowed. “I don’t idle myself with anyone.”

“Renhai’s your neighbor. You said there was nothing in his house worth stealing. That implies you’ve visited before.”

Elang set down his teacup. “Humans give off a foul stench. His is one of the foulest.”

Strong sense of smell,I added to my mental list. And what had he called me in his garden?Krill.Food for his turtle, no doubt, but a strange insult all the same.

“You aren’t a demon,” I said again. “You aren’t a sorcerer either. Sorcerers are charming and…and don’t go about extorting innocent painters.”

“Innocent?” Elang made some noise that sounded like a snort.

“Nor are you a god or a spirit or a ghost. You’re…”

I honestly didn’t know.

He was waiting, those yellow-black eyes boring into mine. Why were they so familiar? Where had I seen them before?

“Scourge of Saino, take off the mask,” I grumbled. “The festival is over. Are you as ugly as they say, or do you truly have something to hide?”

Half of his mouth smiled. “You had only to ask.”

Ever so slowly, as if he knew every second tormented my curiosity, he lifted his mask.

I didn’t mean to recoil, but I’d had no warning. His face was unlike anything I expected. It was two faces, really, as though a line were drawn straight down the center, dividing the two sides in half. One was human, with a smooth, tanned cheek and sculpted black brow; half a nose; and half a hard, square jaw. Features belonging to a man who’d clearly received an extra moment of the gods’ attention.

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