Page 31

The secret room smelled of tea.

The malty, nutty black tea that Elang was always drinking.

There were at least a hundred crates in the room, a few floating along the ceiling.

So this was Elang’s treasury.

It’s where Lord Elang keeps the valuables he acquires from his trips to land, Mailoh had informed me before that first tour.

Tea is his main conquest.

Last I checked there were also a few old maps.

Every crate I opened confirmed her words.

I encountered countless tea tins, a few carefully rolled maps of western Lor’yan, then an arsenal of books, enough to fill a library.

After a while, I gave up on the crates and started knockingagainst every surface I could find, hunting for a hidden compartment.

With a frustrated grunt, I sank to the ground, sitting beside a pile of books that had fallen out of their crate.

What was I looking for, anyway?

A few of the books started to float, and I caught them with a frown.

Elang had told me that the rest of his books were still in Gangsun.

But here were boxes upon boxes of books.

Surely a good part of his collection.

I sprang up, letting myself hover above the crates.

“Reveal yourself to me,” I spoke aloud.

My words were shaky and vibrated against the walls.

I gathered myself, speaking more forcefully: “Reveal yourself to me. Nothing shall be hidden from the lady of the Westerly Seas.”

It took a moment for the sea to comply, but Queen Haidi had been right—the waters did not lie.

Before my eyes, the books in the crate flickered, then reappeared in their true form.

Almost as if a mask had been peeled away.

They were not books at all, but scrolls upon scrolls of…

art.

Paintings, sketches, even drawings on scraps of crude rice paper.

Suddenly I couldn’t breathe.

I recognized these works.

How could this be?

Here, deep in the legendary realm of dragons, in a secret vault in a derelict castle, was every painting I had ever sold through Gaari.

From the sketch of the prefect I’d drawn when we’d first met and the portraits that I had forged and sold at auction, to the dragon Elang had snatched from me in his garden.

Every single one of my works—even the practice drawings I’d discarded because they weren’t good enough—were here, carefully stored.

My hands shaking, I held up one of my earliest pieces.

“I want you to paint something with only one color,” Gaari had instructed.

“Let’s try your favorite. Let me guess, blue?”

I skipped past the pot of blue he offered and went straight for green.

“Green,” I said.

“The color of the most expensive jade. The color of pine and moss and the first chilis I ever ate.”

“The color of life,” Gaari mused.

I dipped my brush and drew a stalk of bamboo.

“My father used to say, ‘Green is from blue, and is better than blue.’?”

“What does that mean?”

I gave Gaari my cheekiest smile.

“It means you learn to surpass your teachers.”

How he’d laughed.

I shoved the painting back into the crate.

It couldn’t be, I told myself.

Gaari was dead.

But there was no other explanation.

There was no doubt.

I closed the crate lid, confusion and anger rattling inside me.

Three years, I’d known the old man.

I’d always questioned who he was.

Part of me had guessed he wore a disguise, and more than once I’d teased him about that long white beard of his.

It couldn’t be real, I’d said.

And I’d been right.

How had I not seen it?

The adulation for good food, the meticulousness, the stormy gray eye and disdainful glowers.

The gardening!

I mined my memory for every encounter, every word I’d exchanged with Gaari.

Gaari had been garrulous and fun, charming—and a friend.

If not for him, my family would have starved.

I’d have ended up in the governor’s prison.

Gaari always had a big heart.

Whereas Elang…

Elang had no heart.

He was cold and distant, calculating and…

Gave your family a place to stay.

A treacherous voice stole into my thoughts.

Took a barb in the chest for you.

“Only because he needs me,” I snapped aloud, waving the thoughts away.

I dug into my pocket for the waterbell he’d given me in Nanhira.

It sat on my hand, petals unfolding gently, as fresh and blue as the day he conjured it.

Now it served as a painful reminder of how close I’d come to trusting him.

This entire time, he’d been lying.

“That stupid merman,” purred a voice.

Shani misted into being, uncrossing her long fins over my neck.

“I had a feeling he’d give it all away.”

“So it’s true.” The words clung to my throat like the bitterest pill.

“Elang is…Gaari.”

I needed to say it aloud, more for myself than for Shani.

“Congratulations,” said the demon.

“Turns out you didn’t marry a stranger after all.”

“This entire time, you knew. ”

“Of course I knew. You think Elang’anmi could’ve survived so many years in exile without my help?” A scoff.

“The longest five years of my life, living on that hellhole you humans call land. And more than half of it was wasted on pursuing the likes of you.”

“I knew it couldn’t have been a coincidence,” I said.

“Me falling into his garden. Him needing a painter.”

“You should’ve listened to your instincts.” Shani twirled the opal ring around her tail.

“I knew all that gold would muddy your senses.”

“Did he plan this?”

“There are few things that Elang’anmi does not plan.”

I felt sick inside as the confusion evaporated out of me, leaving a flare of anger in its wake.

“Did he plant Yargui’s men too?” I demanded.

“The attack on the noodle house? His death ?”

“Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. What does it matter? In a few weeks, you’ll never see each other again.”

“Of course it matters. He’s—”

“Your husband?” Shani managed to pluck the last words I was going to use.

“Be upset all you want, but I wouldn’t waste my breath if I were you.” She smirked.

“Don’t forget, you’re short on sangi.”

She dissolved back into mist before I could reply.

I crumpled the waterbell, loosening my fist just before the petals broke.

Yes, I was angry with him.

When I went too long without blinking, I could see little white stars floating in the sea, specters of my fury.

But beneath the anger was a knot of emotion far sharper, far more difficult to untangle…

.

The feeling that I’d lost something dear.

Was it because I’d finally begun to like Elang, even think of him as a friend?

My chest tightened.

Or was it because we had been friends all along—and I’d never known it?

Shani was right; it didn’t matter.

Soon enough our link would be severed, and we’d go our separate ways.

Me, home to my family.

To live and grow old and tell tales about my time among the dragons until the memories faded and even Elang’s face became a blur of the past.

There was only one problem, I thought, as I blew the waterbell off my hand, letting it float free.

I never forgot a face.