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“That’s why they won’t accept him,” I murmured. “But when he finds his pearl, he can become a full dragon.”

“If he finds it,” countered Seryu. “Until then he’s trapped between two worlds. Half human, half dragon. No matter where he goes, he won’t fully belong.”

“I’ll get a taste of that soon,” I said, watching the tea leaves in my cup sink. “When I return to Kiata, everyone will know I have magic. It’ll be hard for things to go back to the way they were.”

“My offer still stands, you know,” said Seryu seriously. “You could stay with me.”

I shifted uneasily, clutching my teacup. “Seryu…”

“If only you could see how uncomfortable you look. I was joking.” He let out a breath through his nose, and his seriousness fled. “There’s only so much rejection a dragon can take. You’re lucky our hearts are stronger than human ones.”

He took a long sip, then smirked. “Besides, we’d get bored of each other before long. And eternity would feel even longer with someone as troublesome as you, Shiori.”

I laughed. As simple as that, we were friends again.

“Now finish your tea,” he said, lifting my cup to my lips. “It’s expensive.”

While I drank, Seryu cranked his head up, ear perking. It was the only notice he gave before Elang himself appeared.

The half dragon looked tired. Gold-rimmed spectacles sat unevenly on his nose, a touch that made him appear vastly more human. But when he caught me staring, he tore them off and his eyes narrowed.

“I didn’t say you were welcome to my tea,” he groused.

“It’s the finest in Ai’long,” Seryu replied, raising his cup in appreciation. “Where else would we find tea fresh off the Spice Road?”

“And my food?”

“Shiori was hungry,” Seryu said crisply. “She’s intolerable when she’s hungry. Besides, you should have offered. You’re looking tired, cousin. I keep forgetting you’ve inherited the inconvenient human need for sleep.”

Elang looked like he wanted to strangle Seryu. But he did straighten, fists uncurling at his side. “The sorcerer is awake.”

I sprang to my feet as Gen shuffled into the room, wearing a lopsided grin. His movements were still stiff and jerky, but his skin had a promising tinge of pink.

“Praise the Sages, I’m alive,” he announced. “The world nearly suffered the loss of its greatest future enchanter.”

“If only your mouth were still stone,” muttered Elang, “the world would have been spared yet another enchanter who talks too much.” A lidded bowl of herbal tea appeared in the half dragon’s hand, and he offered it to Gen. “Drink.”

Gen took the steaming bowl but didn’t drink. His attention was on the wall of books opposite the table, and he brushed his knuckles over their spines. “Can’t I stay, Elang? Your library is most impressive. Some of these volumes I’ve never even seen before. Let me read—”

Elang plucked a book from Gen, obsessively placing it back in its place. “It’s Lord Elang to you, and no. You’re leaving once you finish this tea.”

“Then I’ll drink very slowly.”

“You’ll drink while it’s hot,” Elang said. “It’ll make the sangi last longer. Unless you prefer to drown.”

It was odd, watching the two spar. Elang acted like he was years older than Gen, but they were almost the same age.

“Consider my debt repaid,” Elang informed Seryu. “As soon as the boy finishes drinking, he’s going home. He hasn’t enough sangi to last long in the water, and no number of Nahma’s favors will persuade me to make more.”

“But Grandfather’s storm—”

“My turtles will escort him to the surface,” Elang spoke over Seryu. “It’ll be safe enough. No one’s looking for him.”

Unlike you two, he left unsaid.

I inserted myself between the cousins. “While you both bicker, I’d like to speak to Gen before he goes.”

For privacy, I steered Gen to an antechamber behind the bookshelf, where a blue fire burned between two cushioned chairs.