I found him sitting on a rock, devouring a bag of honeyed sweet potatoes.
My bag of sweet potatoes.
Its scent wafted into the air, sharpening the hunger in my belly—and the anger rising in my fists.
I meant to accuse him of thievery, to sling a hundred different insults and curse him to the bottom of Mount Nagawi—but as soon as I saw him up close, different words came out of my mouth:
“Aren’t you a little too old to be wearing a mask?”
He didn’t look surprised that I’d followed him, or angry. Instead, a familiar grin slid across his mouth. I couldn’t place where I’d seen it before.
“What is that?” he rasped, pointing at the wooden bowl under my arm.
“Rice cakes.”
He took off his mask and reached for them. “Delicious,” he said, crunching on the snack.
If not for the vibrant band of red around his pupils, so familiar yet so strange, I would have knocked the bowl out of his hands. But startled, I let go.
“Don’t eat them all—”
Too late. Gone was the last sweet potato—and rice cake, too. I put my hands on my hips and flashed the boy my most irritated scowl.
“What?” He gave a half shrug. “Swimming all this way makes me hungry.”
I was still staring at him, at the thick stripes of green wisped about his temples; it was a color I’d never seen before on anyone—even the pale-haired merchants who came from the Far West. His skin had little warmth to it, but there was a pearlescent sheen. I couldn’t decide whether he looked bizarre or beautiful. Or dangerous.
Maybe all three.
“You’re…you’re the dragon! From the other day in the lake.”
He grinned. “So you do have a brain. I was wondering, after you fell into the lake.”
I met his grin with a glare. “I didn’t fall into the lake. I dove into it.”
“All for that bird, I recall. That enchanted bird.”
Remembering Kiki sank my spirits. I dusted the crumbs from my sleeves and began to turn away from the lake.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to the festival. My brothers will be missing me.”
He was at my side in an instant, his fingers catching my sleeve and pulling me down to sit. “So soon?” He clicked his tongue. “I found your bird for you and saved you from drowning. Don’t you think you owe me some thanks? Stay a while. Entertain me.”
“Entertain you?” I repeated. “There’s a whole festival back there.”
“It’s all human games, nothing of interest to me.”
“You’re not even a dragon right now.”
He wasn’t. In his current form, he was a boy, a young man not much older than I. But with green hair and ruby eyes and sharp, clawlike fingernails.
“How are you human?”
“All dragons can do it,” he replied, his grin widening. “I haven’t practiced shifting into human form much until now.” He blew at his bangs. “Always thought humans were boring.”
I crossed my arms. “I always thought dragons were majestic and grand. You were hardly larger than an eel.”
“An eel?” he repeated. I thought I’d made him angry, but he burst out laughing. “That’s because I haven’t grown into my full form yet. When I do, you will be impressed.”
“When do you reach your full form?” I asked, unable to contain my curiosity. All I knew of dragons was from legends and stories, and those told little about dragon adolescence.
“Very soon. I’d say in a human year. Two at most.”
“That isn’t very long at all.” I sniffed. “I can’t imagine you growing that much in a year.”
“Oh? Let’s make a wager, then.”
I leaned forward. My brothers loved making bets with each other, but they never let me join in. “What wager? Dragons aren’t known for keeping their word.”
“We always keep our word,” he retorted. “That’s why it’s so rarely given.”
I gave him a pointed look. “What are you proposing?”
“If I win, you invite me to your palace and cook a banquet in my honor. I expect a thousand dishes, no less, and all the most important lords and ladies to be in attendance.”
“I only know how to cook one dish,” I admitted.
“You’ve a year to learn more.”
I made no promise. “If I win, you take me to your palace and throw a banquet in my honor. Same rules.”
His grin faded, and he swept a hand through his long green hair. “I don’t know if Grandfather would approve of that.”
“It’s only fair. Do you think my father would approve of me bringing a dragon boy to dinner?”
“Approve? He should be honored.”
Honored? I drew a sharp breath. “No one speaks about the emperor that way.”
“It’s true,” said the dragon with a shrug. “Humans revere dragons, but it’s not the same the other way around. It’d be like I brought a pig to dinner.”
“A pig!” I shot up to my feet. “I am not a pig.”
He laughed. “All right, all right. Calm down, Shiori. It’s a deal.” He pulled on my arm until I sat again.
“And this is Kiata, not A’landi—my father would not revere a dragon,” I huffed. “He despises magic—” I stopped midsentence. “How did you know my name?”
“That boy at the festival said it. Right before I tripped him.”
“That was my brother!”
“Yes, and he seemed like a spoilsport. Aren’t you glad you chased after me instead?”
I glared at him. “Tell me your name.”
The dragon smiled, showing his pointed teeth. “I am Seryu, Prince of the Easterly Seas and most favored grandson of the Dragon King, Nazayun, Ruler of the Four Seas and Heavenly Waters.”
I rolled my eyes at how conceited he sounded. Two could play at that game.
“Shiori’anma,” I said haughtily, though he already knew it. “First daughter of Emperor Hanriyu, and most favored Princess of Kiata—Kingdom of the Nine Eternal Courts and the Holy Mountains of Fortitude.”
Seryu looked amused. “So your father despises magic, eh? What will he think of you?”