Page 48

In the weeks that followed, I tried to keep busy.

It wasn’t as difficult as I’d imagined, with new bodies bobbing to the surface of the pond every other day.

The first time it happened, Mama let out a scream that shook the entire manor.

But it turned out most of the bodies were human—and alive.

They were the Dragon King’s former prisoners; some had been held captive for a few years, others for decades.

They stumbled out of the pond, braids of kelp tangled in their hair, always with the same dazed look.

“What year is it?” they would ask.

“Who is the emperor?”

Now I understood why Elang had grown so much sanheia: in the expectation that one day, the humans trapped in the dragon realm would be rescued, and they’d need sangi to return to land.

And so I took in Ai’long’s refugees.

Patiently I answered their questions and listened to their tales.

Many of them had lost everyone they’d known while they’d been in the dragon realm, and I comforted them, I cried with them.

If they wished, I sent them home.

Mama organized each journey.

She chartered ships and served as navigator, with Baba as captain and Tangyor as steersman.

My sisters took turns going, one always staying behind to be with me at the manor.

In this way, weeks passed, then months.

Gradually, life found a rhythm again.

Then one spring afternoon, something in the water changed.

It was like a soft breeze tickling the nape of my neck, a chorus of whispers brushing against the tiny hairs on my arms.

Even the pond had gone divinely still, not a ripple in sight—the way it did in the presence of…

a dragon.

“Truyan.”

Queen Haidi sounded different on land, her voice high and airy.

Her brown eyes were rich with flecks of starry gold, and her hair had begun growing back, curling past her elbows.

I waited on the footbridge while she emerged from the pond.

I searched the water hopelessly for a glimpse of Elang.

But she had brought no familiar faces with her, no entourage at all, in fact—except for a surly young man wearing white.

He was leaning against one of the longan trees, his arms crossed.

He had silvery horns and long green hair, half plaited over his head and tamed by a crystal headpiece, half wild and unkempt.

Though we’d never met, I knew exactly who he was.

I bowed, low and reverent.

“Your Eternal Majesty.”

Seryu’ginan uncrossed his arms.

“Sons of the Wind,” he muttered.

“Call me that again, and I’ll call you Bride of the Westerly Seas.”

I rose.

“How shall I address you, then?”

“Seryu will do. All things considered, we’re family.” He stepped onto the paved path.

“Is his altar in the manor?”

His, meaning Elang’s.

I stiffened.

“I didn’t prepare one.”

“Because you still think he’s alive.”

“Your Majesty.” Queen Haidi’s hair flicked up in mild admonishment.

She turned to me.

“Lady Saigas, we apologize for intruding while you are still in mourning. King Seryu was crowned only yesterday, and he—”

“I wanted to see who was to blame for overthrowing Grandfather and shackling me to the throne,” interrupted Seryu, tugging at his pearled collar.

He straightened, and as his red eyes found mine, his tone lost its edge.

“I also wanted to pay my respects to you, Cousin Tru.”

The young dragon king regarded me.

“You know, I brought a human to Yonsar once, and Elang made such a fuss about her being a blight upon the universe….” He made a quiet scoff.

“You must have been very special to change his mind.” A pause.

“Or deluded.”

I understood now why Elang had been fond of his cousin.

“I get the sense you were friends.”

“Elang didn’t have many in Ai’long,” Seryu allowed.

He plucked a longan from the nearest tree and popped the entire fruit into his mouth without peeling off the shell.

“We used to chase whales and spar against the turtles together. Then Grandfather became obsessed with having him killed, and I became the royal favorite.”

“He did that to drive a wedge between you two.”

“Something I wish I’d realized sooner.” Seryu plucked half a dozen longans with his claw and pocketed them in his sleeve.

“Grandfather deserved Oblivion.”

“Let us not speak ill of our ancestors, Your Majesty.” Queen Haidi cleared her throat, adding quietly, “There’s another reason for our visit.”

“You’ve come for the Scroll,” I said.

I’d foreseen this visit weeks ago.

“I thought it couldn’t be destroyed.”

“It cannot, except by those who created it.”

“Are you one of the Eight?”

“Am I?” Haidi mused.

“Perhaps the next time you visit Nanhira, I’ll tell you a story.”

I nodded, but I made no promise.

I wasn’t ready to return to Ai’long anytime soon.

Slowly I rolled up my sleeve.

One last time, I brought forth the Scroll of Oblivion and sent it materializing into Haidi’s awaiting hands.

The queen slipped it into her hair for safekeeping, then bowed her head.

“You did well, Truyan,” she said to me.

“You did the best you could.”

We both knew she wasn’t talking only about the Scroll.

My voice broke when I replied, “I know.”

The wind had grown still, the only sound in the garden a series of plops in the pond.

They came from Seryu, who was skipping stones by the handful.

“You ought to come with us,” he said, dusting his hands when I joined him beside the water.

“The waters of Yonsar grow warmer with each day. The kingdom is rebuilding; would you like to see it?

“Bring your family, if you’d like,” he said softly when I didn’t respond.

“The years pass more swiftly in the dragon realm; the food isn’t as good, but…the waiting will be easier.”

I observed the moss creeping across the pebbled path, the footbridges, the latticed frame within the pavilion’s windows.

It was the one thing that had thrived in the garden since Elang had left.

“If he comes back,” I said, “he won’t be a dragon.”

Seryu raised a feathery white eyebrow.

“He told youthis?”

“In a way.” I reached to my neck, holding the jade pendant that hung from the remains of Elang’s red string.

“Butterflies fly in pairs.”

Something in his red eyes warmed.

“If you change your mind, my offer will always stand. I hope you won’t have to wait too many lifetimes, Cousin Tru.”

He walked me back to where Queen Haidi was waiting.

Then, with a clap of his hands, his human form washed away, and I caught a glimpse of his true magnificence.

He leapt into the pond, and Queen Haidi disappeared after him.

Alone once more, I stood on the arched footbridge, watching the ripples in the pond recede.

Soon the carp returned to nibble on the floating lotus blossoms, and frogs jumped across the lily pads.

I crouched to dip my fingers in the pond, drawing a tiny whale in the water.

I released it with a flick, and it swam to the other side of the footbridge, where a carp chased it until it dissolved.

Seeing them race, the heaviness in my heart lifted, and the barest smile touched my lips.

I went back into the house to help my sisters prepare the table for lunch.