Page 14

“The dragon and phoenix approach!” Mama trilled loudly when she spied us emerging out of the garden.

I barely recognized her.

It was as if she’d scoured the closet and handpicked every item vaguely associated with Ai’long.

Golden fish ornaments gleamed in her hair, and round white pearls tinkled upon her wrists.

For her robes, she’d chosen a brocade woven with emerald turtles; the final touch, embroidered on the bottom of her skirt, was a silver-stitched dragon.

Mama batted her fan against her chest as she took in the sight of Elang and me side by side, the rhythm of our strides reluctantly matching.

She didn’t bother with a greeting.

“When is the wedding?”

“Tomorrow,” I replied.

“Tomorrow!” Nomi exchanged a worried look with Fal.

“That’s so soon.”

Mama was the only one who clapped.

“How wonderful!” she exclaimed.

“A daughter, betrothed. But one day isn’t much time at all to prepare. I’ll need to go to the Central Market, and the temple to pray—”

“My servants will take care of the preparations,” said Elang.

“The wedding will be small, and private. There will be no guests from outside the household.”

“No guests?” Mama’s mouth twitched back and forth with displeasure.

“This is my daughter’s wedding. Surely I can invite a few friends. My neighbors, our local butcher, Mr.Tanpi and his wife—”

“They may come to the procession on Oyang Street,” Elang replied, striving to stay polite.

“But no one outside will attend the rites. There will be no banquet.”

Mama knew when to pick her battles, and she let out a resigned sigh.

“Very well, then. If you’ve made up your mind.” She leaned forward, venturing so close to ElangI feared she would pinch his earlobes.

“Family only.”

“Indeed.” Elang neatly stepped to the side.

“Now, excuse me. I have my own preparations to make. My servants will return shortly and assist you in whatever manner you require.”

“You aren’t staying?” Mama asked.

“It’s tradition for the groom to pick up the bride from her home,” Fal added.

“You will be coming to escort Tru, won’t you, Lord Elang?”

His eyes flicked from me to my sister, then he replied, “Were she staying in her own home, I would consider the request. But this is my estate, and hence, I am unable to accommodate such a custom.” He bowed, ignoring Falina’s icy glower.

“Until tomorrow.”

Fal didn’t wait until Elang was out of earshot.

She seethed, “The nerve! Did you hear that, Tru?”

“I don’t mind,” I replied honestly.

“It means I get more time with the three of you.”

“The dragon’s not wrong,” said Mama.

She hooked me by the arm and tapped the mole by my mouth.

“Forget about these silly games. It will be a happy marriage. I’ve read hisface.”

“Both sides?” I pried.

“Or with the mask on?”

“He has thin ears, that Lord Elang,” Mama went on, ignoring me.

“A good thing. It means he will listen to his wife, and your marriage will be a harmonious one.”

Any retort I could have come up with died on my lips.

Find yourself someone with thin ears, Mama used to tell my sisters and me when we were young and Baba didn’t listen to her.

Your baba’s thick ones will be the end of us someday.

“What’s the matter, Tru?” asked Fal, who saw how my expression had gone grave.

A lump was swelling in my throat.

I couldn’t tell them what I’d learned about Baba—that he was possibly alive, the Dragon King’s captive.

It’d be cruel to give false hope.

“Nothing,” I said, waving them off.

I turned to my mother.

“Thank you, Mama. I am grateful for your blessing.”

Mama’s mood was bright.

“Let’s get you changed. I can’t believe you went to Lord Elang looking like that. At least brush your hair next time. I swear you’d go to your wedding in trousers if not for your sisters and me.”

“Dragon’s luck, phoenix’s fortitude,” Fal murmured in my ear as Mama prattled on.

She didn’t believe in superstitions any more than I did, but worry knit into her brow.

She squeezed my hand.

“I hope you know what you’re doing.”

As Elang had promised, the servants soon returned to the estate grounds.

My sisters and I went to the garden to greet them.

First were the turtles; they crawled out of the pond, then stood on their hind legs like humans and began to work on decorating the garden.

Then came something that made Nomi’s eyes bulge.

She pointed excitedly at the water.

“Are those—”

“The pack arrives,” Shani muttered.

She tossed one of Elang’s gardening trowels into her mouth, crunching loudly.

“I loathe merfolk.”

Nomi had stopped listening.

She rushed toward the pond for a better view.

They were beautiful creatures, even from afar.

They swam with the elegance of eagles flying, their tails shimmering behind them.

One by one, they hoisted themselves onto land, drinking from the gourd-like vials around their necks.

A turtle waited on them, passing out clothes while the merfolk’s tails transformed into human legs.

Nomi’s face glowed with wonder.

“I didn’t know that merfolk could become human.”

“They usually can’t,” replied Shani.

“Elang’anmi makes a potion so they can mingle among humans and find work in the city. Only lasts a few hours, then the lot of them come stampeding back to the pond. It’s a daily disorder.”

“They work in Gangsun?” Nomi mused.

“I wonder if I’ve ever met one.”

I wondered too.

From every angle, their upper halves did look human.

Long black hair, bony shoulders, and mushroom noses.

But if you looked closely, their ears were long and pointed, and their pupils were edged like diamonds.

“Did you know merfolk have twice as many nerves in their hair as we do in our fingers?” Nomi was babbling.

“That’s where they store all their magic—and secrets. They never cut it.”

“Never?” said Falina, twisting to look.

“We can ask. Oh, should we? Fal, why don’t you go talk to them.”

“Me? Have Tru ask. She’s the one they’re staring at.”

It was true.

While my sisters and I were whispering about the merfolk, they were murmuring and pointing—at me.

“You must excuse them,” spoke a mellow voice from my left.

“They’re curious about the new lady of the Westerly Seas.”

I whirled but saw no one…

except a giant turtle with yellow-brown spots on her cheeks and the brightest green eyes I’d ever seen.

“Did you…” I hesitated, feeling more shy than foolish.

“Did you speak to me?”

The turtle’s lips stretched into the warm semblance of a smile.

“Most creatures from Ai’long are different from what you know,” she replied.

“My name is Mailoh. I am in charge of Lord Elang’s household, and it will be my deepest honor to prepare you for the rites tomorrow. Please, come with me.”

I hesitated.

My sisters were preoccupied with the merfolk: Nomi was interrogating a boy her age about whether his kind really cried pearls instead of tears, and Fal was helping a pair of mermaids arrange flowers.

They wouldn’t missme.

“All right.” I followed Mailoh.

The turtle padded circumspectly into my chambers, dipping her head beneath the door frame.

Behind her were two smaller turtles, each carrying a trunk on their back.

“Your robes and headdress,” explained Mailoh, though I hadn’t asked.

“Shall we begin?”

“But the wedding’s tomorrow,” I said.

Shani had come too, and she perched on my arm, talons biting into my skin.

“Turtles are slow on land,” she said with a sniff.

“It’s going to take them all day and night to wash and wax your hair, scrub your skin, and slough off all the dirt—”

“We turtles are slow but thorough,” Mailoh said hoarsely.

“Now, back into your abode, demon. If you get any of the silk wet, I will personally hang you above a brazier.”

Shani bared her teeth at the turtle, but she obeyed and flooded back into the ring.

“The foul creature loathes heat,” Mailoh informed me.

Her tone softened, belying a touch of affection.

“It’ll be better for her inside the ring anyway. All this time on land has been taxing for her, same as Lord Elang.”

I lifted my head.

“What’s wrong with Elang?”

“Nothing, nothing. He simply travels too much while he’s on land, searching for his Heavenly Match. But now that he’s found you at last…” There was a twinkle in her round, hooded eyes.

“Don’t you worry, your wedding will be magnificent. Even the sand crabs will have heard of it by the time we are finished.”

I wasn’t worried at all; in fact, Mailoh was clearly more excited about this wedding than I was.

“There’s no need for all this fuss,” I said.

“Hardly anyone will see me.”

“You think I’m dressing you to impress the humans?” Mailoh huffed a laugh.

“No, dear girl. Lord Elang couldn’t care less what the humans in Gangsun think of you. Whereas in Ai’long, a dragon’s impression can often make the difference between life…and death.”

I suppressed a shiver.

If I thought Elang intolerable, I could only imagine the rest of his dragon kind.

A bunch of godly immortals who acted more monstrous than divine.

A king who conjured storms on a whim, who sank ships and broke families apart with not a care.

My fists clenched at my sides.

“Then make me magnificent,” I told Mailoh.

“Help me create an impression when I enter Ai’long. Show them I am not…” I searched for the word Elang loved to use.

“Krill.”

The turtle’s mouth bent into a wrinkled grin.

“Just youwait.”

Mailoh hadn’t been lying about her thoroughness.

The rest of the day, I didn’t leave my chambers.

Every speck of dirt was sloughed off my skin, and my hair was lathered and rinsed until it shone.

The merfolk varnished my nails with vermillion lacquer, smothered my face with orange-scented cream, and even gave me rose petals to chew so my breath would be sweet.

I spat them out when no one was looking.

When at last the ordeal was over, it was nearly midnight.

I’d never been happier to be left alone and greet my bed.

I collapsed immediately, sinking into a bank of cushions.

Only for my head to hit something hard-edged: the contract box.

It hadn’t been there a moment ago, and nor had the red-eyed butterfly perched on the lid.

She fluttered her wings, letting out a familiar cackle as I rubbed the back of my head.

I glared.

“Elang sent you—as that ?”

“Butterflies are symbols of undying love,” Shani said.

“I thought I’d be one for your wedding tomorrow. Congratulations, by the way.”

“You should come as a mosquito,” I muttered.

“That’d suit you more.”

“Such resentment is music to my ears.” Shani glowed, her antennae buzzing.

“We’re going to have so much fun together these next few months, you and me at the bottom of the sea.”

“Is there a point to your visit?”

“Elang’anmi sent me with his tidings. And to fetch the contract, signed.”

Always straight to business, that dragon prince.

If he’d wanted me to look at the contract so badly, he shouldn’t have conscripted Mailoh and her preening squad to fuss over me all day.

With a sigh, I pored through the contract’s pages one last time.

As expected, Elang was meticulous.

Everything I’d requested had been added.

“I see he told you about our little plot against Nazayun,” Shani observed, reading over my shoulder.

She tutted.

“You are aware what will happen if the Dragon King finds out, aren’t you?”

“I’m aware.” I flipped to the last page.

“Frogs exploding out of my throat would be considered a mercy.”

“And you’re still signing?”

In the beginning, I’d agreed to do this for the money.

Money to secure my sisters’ futures and pay off Mama’s debts so no one would ever bother our family again.

Yes, I’d had doubts.

I was no fool—when I’d discovered Elang was orchestrating a coup against the Dragon King, I’d wanted nothing to do with it.

Until I found out about Baba.

I scribbled my name.

“Maybe you’re not as spineless as I thought.” Shani scooped up the contract.

“Or maybe you’re going to regret all this.”

“I already do.”

With a laugh, the demon gave me a good splash in the face.

It was cold and unexpected, and I let out a startled gasp.

“Nine Hells, Shani!” I breathed.

“What was that for?”

But Shani had disappeared, and in her place came Mama, carrying a basket and a wooden comb.

There were oil stains on her sleeve, and the smell of salt and fried dough tickled my nostrils.

“How many times have I told you not to sleep with your hair wet, Truyan?” Mama said, looking scandalized.

“You ought to know better. And on the night before your wedding! You’ll wash away your luck and get a headache.”

“I didn’t—”

“Come, let me dry it for you.”

Before I could protest, Mama sat on my bed, patting my hair dry with a towel.

When she was finished, she picked up the wooden comb and set it on her lap.

“What’s that for?” I asked.

Mama took a sudden interest in her hands; she looked nervous.

“It’s a Balardan tradition for a mother to comb her daughter’s hair the night before her wedding.”

There came a hiccup in my heart.

Over the years, my sisters and I had been desperate for anything to do with Baba’s heritage, and while Mama didn’t speak or read Balardan, she did her best to teach us what she knew.

Tonight she had brought a piece of him with her—for me.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

Gently Mama threaded the comb through my hair and brushed it down my back, as if whisking through custard.

“Mailoh did a good job with your hair,” she said.

“You look…”

“Tolerable?”

“Beautiful.” Mama let the word hang between us before she set down the comb and reached into her basket.

“This is for you.”

It was a fried cruller.

I hadn’t had one in years.

“Don’t show your sisters—this is the only one that didn’t burn. Eat it while it’s hot.”

I broke the cruller in two and offered her the bigger half.

Together we bit down at the same time.

The familiar crunch made my heart pinch with nostalgia.

“They’re not as good as they used to be,” Mama admitted.

“It’s been too long since I’ve made them.”

“They’re your best yet.”

Mama swept her hand over my face, her fingers landing on the mole by my mouth.

“You remember when I used to tell fortunes? I told you this mole was lucky, and it’d earn you coin. Wasn’t I right?”

I humored her with a smile.

“You were right.”

“I used to think I knew everything about my daughters, but how you’ve all grown.”

“Mama…”

“I wish the visions hadn’t come to you, Tru, but the gods never give us more than we can handle. You must have questions. Tell me.”

I hesitated.

“Do you…?”

“No,” she said quickly.

“Not me. Your grandmother.”

“Grandmother?”

Mama pulled some blanket over her legs.

“I wish you could have met her. She could see someone’s face and know their future. Almost like you.”

I thought of the tingle that crept down my fingers, how it turned into a burning itch and made my arm feel as heavy as lead.

I thought of how every time my attention drifted from my work, I’d fall into a vision I never meant to foresee.

“Did she learn to control it?”

“It depends on what you mean. She told me she learned to see years ahead of her. Sometimes she could even see the future’s multiple possibilities, like tangled threads yet to be unspun. But two things never changed: She could never predict when her visions would come true. And she could never stop one from happening.”

My shoulders fell.

I could hear pain in Mama’s voice, and I reached for her hand.

“What did she say to you?”

“That I’d choose poorly. She never approved of your baba, said he’d break my heart one day. I married him anyway to prove her wrong.” Mama forced a smile.

“I was stubborn and rash, like you.” She paused.

“A jumper, like you.”

It took me a moment to register her meaning.

“Fortune finds those who leap.”

“Something your father liked to say, even when we were young.” She tucked my bangs behind my ear.

“I used to be jealous of all the time you’d spend with him, did you know? Now I wish you’d spent more.”

“Did you love him?” I whispered.

Mama pursed her lips tight.

I didn’t think she’d answer.

“He broke my heart in the worst way possible,” she said finally.

Her voice wobbled, on the verge of breaking.

She whispered, “But if I could do it again, I’d still pick him. Pirate and adventurer and all.”

I found I couldn’t speak.

She blew out my candle.

“Good night, my Tru.”

My chest tightened as she left.

Ever since I’d found out Baba could be in Ai’long, the hope I’d been secretly nursing these past years became all-consuming.

I’d never imagined there was anything I could dread and want so much at the same time.

What I feared more than anything—more than the dragons, the mysterious realm every legend warned against, even King Nazayun—was the answers I might find about Baba.

Alive or dead.

There were only two possible outcomes.

I’ll find him, I thought as I drifted to sleep.

Even if I have to tear apart the entire sea, I’ll find him.