Page 47 of A Forgery of Fate

The scoundrel. He knew exactly why.

“It takes time to re-create someone’s likeness,” I replied. It wasn’t a lie. “How am I supposed to study your grandfather if I can’t even meet him?”

“Youwillmeet him, eventually. That much is inevitable if you are to succeed at your task. Until then, I have engaged the most qualified aide to counsel you. And you’ll have your Sight.”

“I’m not understanding,” I said. “What does a portrait have to do with vanquishing the God of the Seas? It’s just a painting.”

Elang turned to face me fully, his yellow eye netting thelight of the sun, turning almost gold. The sight unsettled me, but I didn’t look away.

“It will be anything butjusta painting,” he said. “It must be precise, every hair in place, every muscle and ridge and scale. No detail can be missed.”

My whole body tensed. Even without the specifics, I was starting to register the enormity of what Elang was orchestrating, and the consequences it might have for all involved.

“There are plenty of better painters in the world,” I said. “Sorcerers, even. Ask one of them.”

“I cannot. Any candidate with sorcery would raise my grandfather’s suspicions. Whereas Sight, quite ironically, is imperceptible.”

No one had ever looked at me so intently before. I flinched and averted my gaze. “Then you’re out of luck,” I said. “Do what you must to me. Have Shani erase my memory, lock me up in your dungeon. I don’t care. But if I harm a god, there will be a price to pay—what good will jewels do my family if Nazayun smites us dead? At least Yargui and Renhai are human. My family can escape them. They won’t be able to escape the Dragon King.”

I turned on my heel and had gotten as far as the edge of the pavilion when Elang said, in his lowest voice:

“What if I told you that the Dragon King was responsible for sinking your father’s ship?”

I staggered, the wind suddenly punched out of me. “What?”

“Your father,” Elang said, “was last seen in Ai’long.”

I went numb. That was impossible. No one had seen a dragon in centuries. Even if they had…Baba had been on a ship with a crew of forty men. I’d talked to the sailors who’d been with him, who’d seen him last. None had uttereda word about Ai’long. Truth be told, they hadn’t said much of anything.

Five years of searching, and I’d found nothing. It seemed too lucky, too serendipitous that here Elang appeared, promising to have all the answers. Yet what if he was telling the truth—could Baba be in Ai’long?

Could he be alive?

“There are thousands of sailors who go missing at sea,” I said, finally finding my voice. “How would you even know who my father is?”

Elang reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. It was wrinkled and yellowed by time, but I would have known it anywhere.

It was the drawing I’d given Baba before he’d left. On the last day I’d seen him alive.

My hands shook as I unfolded this relic of my past. Three girls, their parents, a dragon, and a flock of flying silk dresses. The lines were clumsy and the colors unblended and smudged, yet after all these years, the image was still dear to me. Still funny, too, though I couldn’t bring myself to laugh.

I pressed it close, my chest aching from a wound that had never healed.Baba.

“One of my spies found it in the Dragon King’s palace,” Elang was saying. “I believe your father was a captive there.”

I spun on him angrily. “This is how you knew I’d agree to help you. All this time, you were waiting to playthis”—I waved the painting at him—“against me.”

“Humans are predictable,” he replied. “Yes, I knew you’d agree once you saw it. But it’s not a game, Truyan. Nothing is being played.”

“You’re planning to playmeagainst your grandfather,”I said hotly. “I’m not a pawn,LordElang, and my past isn’t something you can manipulate for leverage.”

Not a flicker crossed Elang’s face. He started to rise, completely unmoved by my outburst. “Shani will bring you a revised contract. This one, I advise you don’t share with anyone.”

I refused to let him have the last word. “You’re despicable,” I spat.

His shoulders tensed into a line. “Call me what you will. But you should know—I didn’t want to tell you about your father unless I had to.”

“Then why did you?”

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