Page 40 of A Forgery of Fate

“Everything about Ai’long is dangerous.”

I closed the chest of jewels. “Then this isn’t enough.”

Years of dealing with Gaari had taught me to negotiate. I wasn’t settling for this deal.

“I wantthreechests of jewels,” I asserted, “which my family will keepregardlessof whether I succeed. I want tutorsfor my sisters while I’m away—for whatever they wish to study. I want Nomi to have an education rivaling the National Academy’s, and I want Fal to have the wardrobe she’s always dreamed of: silk dresses and slippers and jade hairpins. Everything a lady might wear.”

Elang leaned back, his expression inscrutable. “Is thatall?”

“No.” I leaned forward, picking the prince’s dark eye to focus on. “There’s one more thing. I had a friend in Gangsun—an old man.” The muscles in my throat strained. “He died yesterday, defending me from Yargui’s men.”

Elang was unmoved. “If he was old, then it was likely histime.”

“He died because of me,” I said sharply.

“What is your request?”

Heat swelled to my throat. I struggled to keep my voice steady. “His name was Gaari. I don’t know his surname, or even where he lived. But will you find him, and will you see to it that he’s buried and given a shrine?”

A shadow passed over Elang’s face, and his nostrils flared. He probably thought me a sentimental fool, but I didn’t care. “It will be done,” he said. “Your requests, I will honor them.”

“Do you need me to write it down for you? The restaurant, Gaari—”

“I’ll remember.”

Without another word, Elang opened a drawer to his left and presented me with a lacquered box. Inside was a book bound by a single red twine.

“This is a contract outlining the details of my proposal.”

The paper was thick and fine, every word perfectly printed in minuscule calligraphy. I flipped through, startled to seemy name on nearly every page. Impossible. How had he written this all in one day?

I pushed the contract back toward him. “I’ll read it after you’ve included my additional terms.”

“Everything you asked for is there.”

“The lessons for my sisters, the—”

“It’s there.”

His tone dared me not to believe him.

Grudgingly I took the box. “Are we finished?”

Elang leaned forward in his chair, and goose bumps prickled my skin as he slowly pressed his mask back to his face. I could understand why he wore it. To the left, he was a dragon with glossy blue scales, a plumed white eyebrow, and a snout rather than a nose. To the right, he was a man with a boyishly smooth cheek, a sharp and implacable jaw, and an ever-furrowed brow softened by flyaway strands of black hair.

Either half would have been striking on its own. Beautiful, even. But together, the stark difference between the two made for a chilling effect. Especially with that yellow eye, burning like a ruthless torch.

I could hardly look at him without shuddering.

“For tonight, yes,” he finally answered.

With the subtlest lift of his fingers, the doors opened. “My servant will attend you and answer any questions you may have.” Elang rose, his claw outstretched in a gesture for me to leave. “I await your decision in the morning.”

Chapter Eleven

Demon, spirit, fairy—whatever lived in my opal ring—did not like me. That much was clear as she guided me across Elang’s courtyard, making me cut through brambles and plots of dirt instead of keeping to the illuminated paths.

I wondered if she had heard my entire conversation with Elang. Maybe she thought it as preposterous as I did. Or maybe it’d been her idea.

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