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The water stilled. “What is he doing here?” Elang demanded.

“You know him?” I asked.

From the way the half dragon’s expression darkened, he did.

Curious.

“He’s been turned to stone,” I went on. “Lady Nahma told us you could help. Please. He’ll die if you don’t do something.”

“It’s against dragon law to refuse the invocation of a favor,” Seryu reminded his cousin. “Even if it’s for a human.”

“It’s also against dragon law to harbor a wanted criminal,” countered Elang. “Especially if it’s a human.”

As he spoke, a swirl of gray mist piled high in the far distance, making its presence known with a low droning hum.

“They won’t find her if you let her inside,” said Seryu. “I know you take pains to live your life in isolation, cousin. But are you so far removed from us that you’re afraid of a little search storm?”

Elang grimaced. “Get inside before I change my mind.”

The interior of Elang’s castle was brighter and warmer than I expected. Rich purple banners hung from the walls, and floating shell sconces illuminated the entrance hall, which was framed by structures of green coral and rich panels of sunken wood. A surprising blend of land and sea.

Elang gave no tour of his home, but a pair of turtles—smaller and daintier than the gigantic guards—appeared, carrying Gen on their backs. We followed as they sped down a maze of hallways, stopping eventually to lay him upon a marble bench in a windowless room. Kiki sat on the boy’s forehead, her beak wrinkled with worry. He isn’t breathing.

I swallowed. “Is he dead?”

“Not yet,” Seryu said. “If he were, Elang wouldn’t be upholding Aunt Nahma’s favor.”

Elang didn’t deign to reply. He tore off his white cloak, the same one he’d worn as defense against Nazayun. It glowed as he blanketed Gen’s body with it.

“The cloak is enchanted, isn’t it?” I observed.

“Most things in Ai’long are,” responded Seryu. “The cloak’s silk is stronger than any armor, and the lining will heal most flesh. It’ll keep the boy alive while Elang prepares a healing potion.”

“Something I cannot do with an audience gawking over my shoulder,” Elang said.

“Sorry.”

“If you’re sorry, you’ll leave.”

Seryu glared at his cousin, but he heeded the instruction, and we left for the hall.

“He certainly has your grandfather’s temper,” I said once we were outside. “It’s hard to believe he’s younger than you.”

“Why is that?”

“He’s so…” I was going to say angry, but another word came out instead. “Bitter.”

“What do you expect? He doesn’t have a heart.”

True. I touched mine, which ached with homesickness, and swallowed. I couldn’t imagine what it was like for Elang. “Do you think he’ll save Gen?”

“He’ll do his best. He has to.”

“Because of Lady Nahma’s token.” I understood.

“Few things are more valuable than a favor in Ai’long,” replied Seryu. “I’ll never know how she got Elang’s, but now she has one of mine.”

“Thank you,” I said softly.