Page 89 of A Forgery of Fate

His hand was extended to me, and my fingers twitched, longing for his warmth. But in a hundred dreams, I’d taken his hand. And a hundred times, I’d woken up alone.

“What’s the matter, my Tru?”

“Tell me where you are,” I whispered. “Tell me, and I will find you.”

The smile on Baba’s face faded. Tears carved tracks down his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t cry.” I wiped his face with my sleeve, but the tearscame down faster. Everywhere they touched, his skin turned gray. Panic leapt into my heart. “Baba!”

The flowers under my feet withered, the gardens vanishing. The sky started to fall, devoured by the raging sea.

And there was Baba, standing on King Nazayun’s palm, looking as small as the wooden figurines he used to whittle for me.

He’d been turned to stone.

Nazayun closed his fist around my father, his laugh echoing in my ears.

“NO!”My body convulsed, writhing itself into consciousness.

“You were screaming,” said Shani, misting into view. Her fins enveloped my shoulders, holding me still. She let me go, but her voice was gentler than I’d ever heard it. “Bad dreams again?”

I bunched my blanket in one hand, haunted by what I’d seen. Baba turned into stone. Baba shattered into a thousand pieces.

For five years, my family and I had feared he was dead. This entire time, he’d been a prisoner in Ai’long. And for what?

Gods help me, I was going to find out. And I would make the Dragon King pay.

Chapter Twenty-Five

In the days following the storm, everyone was devoted to the castle’s repair. The storm had damaged our defenses, and the Dragon King was bound to strike again. We had to hurry, or we’d no longer be safe here.

I helped however I could, clearing debris and tending to the wounded, repairing cracks in the walls with Kunkoi and patching the crevices with moss and algae. Then, at night, I worked on my portrait of Nazayun.

On the third day, I was in the kitchen—sweeping chunks of broken marble while waiting for my noodles to boil—when Elang found me.

“There you are,” he said. He had sand in his hair and silt on his cheek, and his tone was maddeningly offhand. “I need you to get changed. They’ll be here in an hour.”

I set aside my broom. “Who?”

“Queen Haidi’s entourage,” said Elang. He blew out the green flame on my stove, then gave my noodles a stir so they wouldn’t cling to the bottom of the pot.

I’d never seen him in such a rush. “Queen Haidi…” I racked my memory for the name. “The ruler of the merfolk?”

“Kunkoi’s secured us an invitation to her court—you’ll need to be on your most charming behavior.”

He was giving answers that only led to more questions. “What is our objective?”

Elang finally faced me. His expression was grim. “We are going to ask for help,” he replied. “The damage to the castle remains beyond repair, and my magic is not enough to provide an adequate shield. It’ll be a gamble going to Queen Haidi, but I will not allow Yonsar to suffer any more casualties.”

Three days with hardly a word. Only Elang would have the gall to pretend like nothing had happened. Without a doubt, he was the most exasperating person I’d ever met.

“Why would asking for help be a gamble?”

“Because no one is permitted to come to my aid,” replied Elang darkly. “Or they risk Nazayun’s immense displeasure.”

“He’s found every way to be a turd, hasn’t he?” I muttered.

“Yes.” I could have sworn he almost smiled. “He’d turn you into one if he heard you just now.”

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