Page 26

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.”

“Then it’s good he’s not here.” I reached for my ladle.

“Let me eat, then I’ll come. I’m far less charming when I’m hungry.”

“Don’t rush,” said Elang.

“Your noodles could use another minute.”

I stole a glance at him.

“I didn’t know you cooked.”

“I didn’t always live in a castle.” His eyes gravitated to the pot, avoiding mine.

“My mother taught me when I was young.”

His mother.

I tried to cobble together a mental portrait, taking in Elang’s freckled nose, his brooding eyes, his regal brow.

She must have been beautiful, I thought before I could stop myself.

I turned back to my pot, glad Elang couldn’t read minds.

“Dragons truly are mercurial,” I said dryly.

“Last we met, you spurned my offer to be friends. Now here you are making sure my noodles aren’t undercooked.”

“I don’t need you making a poor impression on the merfolk. You said it yourself—when your stomach is empty, you’re at your most disagreeable.”

I crossed my arms.

“Maybe you should go alone, since my presence is so difficult to endure.”

A muscle ticked in Elang’s jaw.

“Those words were uttered in poor taste,” he replied at length.

“Most humans are difficult to tolerate; I shouldn’t have said the same aboutyou.”

“Because it isn’t true or because it’s rude?”

“Both.”

Both.

I tilted my head, mildly startled.

Was that his way of apologizing?

I wouldn’t be won over so easily.

“You should know I haven’t had a vision,” I said, “if that’s what you’re here for.”

“We’ll discuss your visions later.” He cleared his throat, pausing.

“Will you come?”

I didn’t reply.

Night was falling upon the sea, casting an argent sheen.

I could see the dark half-moon staining the area under Elang’s human eye, accentuating new hollows in his cheeks.

His scales were more gray than blue.

Word around the castle was he never took a rest.

I wondered whether he was sleeping enough.

Eating enough.

“I’ll come,” I decided.

He looked faintly relieved.

“I’ve asked Mailoh to help you prepare for the journey. You’ll need to leave Shani behind.”

“She won’t like that.”

“It doesn’t matter what she likes. Demons are not permitted in the realm of merfolk. Shani, least of all.”

“Then who will be my guard?”

“Kunkoi will see to your safety.” Another pause.

“As willI.”

He started to leave, but I raised a halting hand.

“We’re supposed to spend dinners together,” I said, ladling noodles and soup into a fresh bowl.

“You’ve missed three. Four will be bad luck for our marriage.”

Elang arched an eyebrow.

“I didn’t take you to be superstitious.”

“I’m a fortune teller’s daughter, of course I’m superstitious. A little, anyway.” I twisted my lips.

“Mama always says bad tidings come in fours, and we could use all the luck we can get. So eat with me now—unless you truly dislike noodles.”

“There were noodles at the wedding banquet, were therenot?”

“You hardly touched yours.”

Elang expelled a breath.

“You don’t miss anything.”

“You did hire me for my Sight.”

“So I did.” He picked up his bowl with a claw and downed the noodles in a single gulp.

“So I did.”

Then, with a bow of his head, he left the kitchen.

Precisely an hour later, Elang knocked on my door.

It was a miracle I was ready.

The instant I’d returned to my room, it’d been a whirlwind of Mailoh tearing apart my closet and making me try on every dress in sight.

I voted for a dusky pink robe with emerald accents, which Mailoh thought was too plain.

But she grudgingly accepted the choice, so long as I pinned up my hair and accented my gills with little pearls.

“Yonsar’s fate rests upon the impression you make on Queen Haidi,” Mailoh had said dramatically.

“You must look regal, Lady Saigas. Not too magnificent, but not too humble either.” She came forth with a plump sprig of greens.

“How about this?”

“Is that moss?” I asked.

“It’s one of the few plants that have survived the storms,” she replied.

“I know it’s not beautiful, but I thought it’d be a sign of…”

“Resilience,” I said, taking a sprig and setting it behind my ear.

“I’ll wear all of it.”

Elang waited at my door, attired in a dark green robe with brocade fittings.

He’d cleaned up nicely; his white hair was tied back, the dirt on his cheeks scrubbed away.

Even his sickle-sharp nails had been trimmed.

I made a little twirl, holding up the ends of my skirt.

“How do I look?” I asked him.

The question must have caught him off guard, for as his eyes swept over me, his lips parted.

For an instant, he seemed to forget how to swim and actually floated up, just a little.

Then he caught himself, straightening with a pained furrow in his brow.

“Is it that bad?” I asked.

He seemed partially paralyzed, and I suddenly worried that the moss in my hair looked too silly to greet a merqueen.

“Should I take out the—”

Elang found his voice, gruffer than usual.

“It’ll do.”

He escorted me outside, where a clamshell carriage awaited, drawn by two giant seahorses.

Kunkoi hovered along one side, his purple hair coiffed high.

“Ready?” said the merman.

“You look nervous.”

“I’ve never met a queen before,” I replied, untwisting my hands.

“Of course I’m nervous.”

“You’ve no need to be,” Elang said.

“Do not forget, you are a lady of the first rank among dragons. That makes you equal to any queen, if not greater.”

Though his tone was austere, Elang seemed a little nervous himself.

Every now and then, I caught him glancing sidelong at me.

What was he looking at?

The umbrella behind my shoulder, the moss in my hair?

Or was it the white cloak he’d given me, which Mailoh had begged me not to wear because it ruined the elegance of my robes?

“Is it too long?” Elang asked, gesturing at how I’d bunched the cloak’s fabric in my hand.

“It’s too ugly, ” said Kunkoi before I could reply.

“That cloak will show my queen what a wretched state we’re in.”

Before I could protest, Elang reached out, his fingertips landing gently on my arm.

Where he touched it, the cloak began to change.

The plain white cloth melted into soft gold brocade with a viridescent trim that matched the moss in my hair, and tiny golden flowers embroidered the collar where a bronze clasp, of a phoenix, now held the cloak over my shoulders.

It even had pockets!

I glanced up at Elang.

In the reflection of his darker eye, I saw myself aglow.

“Better?” he asked, clearing his throat.

Honestly, I wanted to take it off and admire every thread, to spin it around and watch how its golden sheen caught the light.

But Elang wasn’t done.

The umbrella at my side shrank into a pair of jade butterflies hanging on a dark red cord.

I touched the pendant.

It was cool against my skin, the delicate wings a vibrant green, my favorite.

I gave Elang a quizzical look.

“For luck,” he said.

“Besides, you don’t need the umbrella’s help anymore.”

He said it matter-of-factly, not intended as a compliment.

Still, something fluttered in my stomach.

Jade was lucky, but butterflies…

butterflies were symbols of love.

Something Kunkoi must have silently observed as well, for his eyes twinkled with mischief.

If Elang noticed, he made no sign of it.

He had turned away, looking out to the sea.

“They’re here.”

As he spoke, the merfolk arrived.

They slipped out of an invisible seam in the sea, their shimmering hair bejeweling the gray water.

Nine had come, guarding their queen, a mermaid with the longest hair I’d ever seen.

It brewed an inky tempest behind her back, the ends of each strand sparking with light as she swam.

From afar, she looked like a shootingstar.

Kunkoi approached her first, with a deep bow.

“Your Majesty, the lord and lady of Yonsar are honored to welcome you to the Westerly Seas.”

“It’s been many years since I have come to these waters,” said Haidi, surveying the state of the castle.

Her face was plain, but her eyes were round and ancient like the moon.

“Things have changed.”

“I must apologize for this urgent appeal,” said Elang.

“We would not wish to involve you in the affairs of dragons,but—”

“But there was no choice. I understand.” Haidi nodded.

Her long fingers were webbed, and gossamer silk spun out of the rings on her fingers, arcing over her umber-gold fins.

“In truth, I also wanted to meet your wife.”

I became aware of the gentlest pressure from Elang’s hand on the small of my back.

When had he gotten so close?

“Your…Your Majesty,” I stumbled.

“You honor Yonsar with your presence. I am Truyan Saigas.”

Queen Haidi touched my chin, lifting it.

“The mortal who’s captured Elangui’s heartless heart,” she murmured.

“You’re the talk of Ai’long, Lady Saigas. Come, I want to hear more about how you accomplished the impossible.”

She turned, and her long tresses fluttered as if beckoning for us to follow.

Elang saw me into the carriage, then took his seat at my side.

Together, we trailed the queen and her guards past the castle grounds.

Once we entered the open seas, Haidi blew into the water.

A low keen passed through her lips, and the sound drew a ring of ripples that crystallized into a flat and lucent pool.

“I will pass first,” she spoke.

“It goes against King Nazayun’s decree to welcome you to my realm…but there’s no rule that I cannot leave the gateway open.”

With that, a wrinkle of silvery sea unfolded before us, and we followed her into its mysterious depths.