Page 37 of A Forgery of Fate

Strikingly handsome, Fal would say. Even with the yellow eye. It was a shade I’d never encountered before: paler than amber, deeper than gold. The exact color seemed to change with every flicker of the light—making it impossible to pin down.

Then, as if the gods had decided to play a cruel and twisted joke, there was the not-so-handsome half.

Reptilianwas the first word that came to my mind. From forehead to neck, argent-blue scales stippled his skin, each like a flat teardrop shining mirror sharp. And this other eye…it wasn’t actually black but the darkest gray, larger and rounder than his human one, and wreathed by a feathery brow. He kept his mouth closed, for which I was glad. I didn’t want to see his teeth.

What could he be? Both his hands, which he had kept balled at his sides, revealed sharp clawlike nails. And he hadhorns! Gold horns piercing up from his temples that I swore hadn’t been there a minute ago.

The answer came in a scalding wave of revelation.

“You’re…you’re a dragon!” I whispered.

“Well done,” he said, his voice equally soft. “I am Elangui Ta’ginan Yuwong, lord of the Westerly Seas, prince of the Third Supreme Kingdom.”

So not a demon prince but adragonprince. What in the Hells of Tamra was a dragon prince doing in the middle of Gangsun?

I gathered myself and raised my chin. “I am Truyan Saigas.” I didn’t have any titles, but I was self-conscious of how insignificant my introduction sounded, so I added, “Of West Gangsun, daughter of Arban and Weina. Master art forger of the Dor’lin District.”

The “master” part was a bit of an exaggeration, but I didn’t care.

“I know who you are,” he said.

“And I know you,” I said, lifting my chin to meet his mismatched eyes. Now I knew why I’d found them familiar.“You’re the dragon I painted.”

“Half dragon,” Elangui corrected. His voice was tight. He was watching my reaction—for what, I couldn’t fathom. “Your powers of observation serve you well.”

“That’s how you knew I have…visions,” I went on, “and why you wanted the scroll.”

He tilted his head, as if it entertained him to watch me flail for answers.

“And,” I realized, “it’s why you had your demon save me from Madam Yargui’s men.”

“Corpses can’t pay off their debts,” Elang said dryly. “Andspeaking of debts, I have decided how you’ll repay mine. With a painting.”

I could have jumped up and danced with relief. In my desperation, I’d offeredanything,and all he wanted was a painting? Praise Amana.

“A promise is a promise,” I allowed. “You provide the brushes and the paper, and I’ll paint the most magnificent piece you’ve ever seen. Might take a while, but it seems you’ve got plenty of extra apartments in your estate—”

“The painting I require cannot be done in Gangsun. Or in A’landi, for that matter.”

I looked up, confused. “Then where?”

A corner of Elang’s mouth ticked upward, minimally. “Ai’long.”

I made a loud gasping sound. “Ai’long!”

“You are familiar with it?”

Of course I was. Every child on the continent grew up on tales about the dragon realm. Me more than most, thanks to Baba. He’d had a trove of sailors’ stories. He’d told me a touch of a dragon’s scales could heal any ailment, their voices were thunder incarnate, and their home, Ai’long, was a realm of merfolk and talking fish, so beautiful that no mortal could visit without being changed forever.

“I have a proposition for you,” said Elang.

From the moment I’d entered this room, the conversation had veered in directions I’d never imagined possible. I had a feeling things were only about to get more interesting. “I’m listening.”

“As you may know,” he said, “the enchanted waters of Ai’long are ruled by the God of the Seas.”

“The Dragon King,” I murmured.

“King Nazayun is my grandfather. I displeased him, and consequently, I am prohibited from returning.”

---