Page 63 of A Forgery of Fate

The moment I entered, floating sconces lit the cavernous hall. So Elangdidhave a castle. More a fortress, really, for it was scarcely less dull and desolate than the seascape outside. Someone—I guessed Mailoh—had taken the effort to hang a dragon-and-phoenix wedding scroll by the entrance, but the rest of the walls were bare, save for the veins of pale green moss limning the stone’s many fissures.

“I’m relieved to see that no walls fell while we were on land,” said Mailoh, turning sideways to squeeze past the narrow door. “You see, Lord Elang? Everything is in order aspromised.”

Elang merely doffed his jacket. His attention was on a bleak and barren field outside the window; it looked like nothing special to me, yet made him grimace.

For someone who’s been exiled,I thought,he certainly doesn’t look thrilled to be home.

“Where is General Caisan?” he asked. “He wasn’t at the welcoming reception.”

“My brother is in the War Pavilion,” Mailoh replied. “He’s been preparing reports on the storms for your perusal. I can fetch him if you—”

“There’s no need.” Elang put on a familiar frown, and I almost pitied whoever this Caisan was. “I’ll seek him out myself.”

“Not now, I hope.” Mailoh smiled pleasantly. “You mustn’t forget you have a very special dinner.”

“Dinner?” It was the most hopeful word I’d heard since I’d left land.

“Didn’t His Highness tell you?” Mailoh said. “A wedding banquet awaits.”

I blinked. “I thought there wasn’t going to be a banquet.”

“It’s only for the two of you,” she explained. “Kunkoi’s been in the kitchen all day preparing your favorite dishes.”

My favorite dishes? All I’d told Elang was that I liked noodles. This was bound to be interesting.

“There’s no need for a feast when one or two dishes will suffice,” Elang said. His hair had turned black again, and he’d shed some of his dragon features, most noticeably the tail and whiskers. His horns still gleamed, as did the yellow eye. “Mailoh, will you check on it?”

“But, Your Highness, I thought you—”

That yellow eye burned.

“My mistake.” Mailoh bowed hastily. “As you wish. I’ll let Kunkoi know.”

I was sad to see the turtle swim off, and especially to be left alone with Elang. I windmilled my arms, kicking deeper into the castle to explore, but he followed.

“Don’t wheel your arms about like that. You’ll tire yourself without getting anywhere.” He caught me by my wrists.

“Relax,” he said, guiding me forward before he let go of one wrist. With his free hand, he straightened my shoulders and adjusted my posture. “Start off on the ground. Imagine you’re an anchor and let yourself sink, then move forward as though you’re walking.”

The instructions worked, and for the first time in Ai’long, I landed on solid ground, my toes curling into a rug of velvety green algae. I swooshed my arms, trying to steady my balance. “The water’s heavy,” I said. “It’s hard to move one foot in front of the other.”

“Don’t think about it,” said Elang. “It goes against logic, but once you let go of your resistance, you’ll glide.” He demonstrated at my side, kicking forward slowly. “All you need is a gentle push in the direction you want to go with your arms or your legs. It should feel like flying once you’re used to it.”

I copied his movements. With some practice, I could glide forward, even float and sink when I wanted. Itdidfeel like flying. The water seemed to track my thoughts and follow me. The only thing I had trouble with was staying in one place. Whenever I wasn’t moving, I’d start drifting up off to the ceiling.

Elang caught my arm, steadying me. “It’ll get easier with practice.”

His grip was firm, yet careful. “Thank you,” I said, caughtoff guard. What could I say back? “Your home, it’s…” I searched for a word that wasn’tgrayordesolate.“It’s sturdy.”

Our exchange felt conciliatory, an attempt at goodwill on our wedding day. But all it showed me was the vast difference between us. His cold and lonely world to the warmth and radiance I had left behind.

He let me go. “Come this way. I’ll show you to your room.”

In the last five years, I’d spent my nights in plenty of odd places. Huddled up against the trees in the public gardens, in the attic of a shophouse, even in an abandoned carriage.

But never had I slept in a cave.

I entered my new room, surprised to find myself charmed. It was a spacious, surprisingly well-lit cave, far less grand than the apartment I’d been given in Elang’s manor, but I liked its simplicity. The walls were a speckled granite, gently rounded along the corners, and a bed hung from the ceiling, suspended by pale green swaths of silk. There was even a window.

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