Eon: Dragoneye Reborn

CHAPTER 19

The special blend of sweet herbs and frangipani petals floated on the surface of the water and clung to my shoulders in velvety clumps. Rilla had prepared the ritual cleansing bath and left me to wash myself, hurrying back to the dressing room to ready the Story Robe and her escape. I sank further into the soft warmth of the large soaking pool and breathed in the damp fragrance, massaging my strained wrist. I had already scrubbed my body as hard as I could, but the touch of Ido was still on my skin and in the aching strain of my hand and hip.

He must never take my body again. I would rather die.

I stopped kneading my hand, shocked by the dark whisper that had pushed itself into my mind.

Was I really ready to die?

I licked my lips, the sweet bath herbs reawakening the vanilla-orange heat of his mouth on mine. I should run. Escape with Rilla and Chart into the islands. This struggle for the throne was not my fight. I had been pushed into the centre of it by everyone around me: my poor master, the Emperor, the Prince,

Lady Dela, Kyko. Even Rilla and Chart. They all expected me to bring victory. But it was not my fight.

I sighed. That was not true. It was my fight now. I lived or died by the Pearl Emperor's hold on the throne. And the lives of too many good people depended on my courage to face the wrath of the young Emperor and win his support. Or, if things went badly, the courage to welcome his sword into my body and stop Ido from bringing Sethon to the throne. And stop his mad ambition to create the String of Pearls.

The memory of the Prince's swift punishment of Teacher Prahn over the missing red folio made me shiver. That had been a small mistake by an old man. And there was the young noble who had accidentally hit him on the practice field. I'd heard the Prince had broken three of his ribs. What would he do to me? A girl who had tricked him and betrayed him, who had promised him power and mutual survival, all the while knowing it was a lie. I prayed the small hope I had to offer would be enough to stop his sword hand.

Ido had been right, I could not welcome death. Not while there was still hope.

Yet I did not even know if the Mirror Dragon was still waiting for me. For a moment, the wonder of her pushed back my fear. A female dragon: what an astonishing revelation for the Council. It made me wonder how they had lost all knowledge of her and the female Dragoneyes. It seemed too complete to be an accident of time. But even if it had been deliberate all those generations ago, they could not deny the only female dragon now. And surely, if I made a true union with her, the Council would have to accept me too.

A fine plan, except I could no longer sense her; I did not even see her outline on the Dragoneye dais. Was it just that last double dose of drugs in my body, or was it some terrible failing in me? Perhaps I did not have any hope to offer the new Emperor, after all. Maybe the Mirror I)ragon was truly gone.

I knew I should reach into my Hua and see if she was still there and at least bring the knowledg- of her continued presence to the Emperor. But what if Ido sensed me in the energy world and took me again? I shuddered. He had said it only happened when I communed with the Rat Dragon. Yet I would be a fool to trust his word. What if he was lying? What if he could now take me whenever 1 entered the pathways of Hua?

I found myself backed up against the edge of the bath, the tiled wall a solid mooring in the churn of my thoughts. I had to take the chance. So far, all I had offered the Prince was lies. If I wanted to survive, I had to take the new Emperor the truth. I had to take him the hope of the Mirror Dragon.

My hands found bevelled holds in the tiled edge. Please be there, I prayed. A deep breath eased the block of fear in my chest. Another relaxed the tightness in my heart. I counted out each exhalation on the rhythm of my plea: please be there, please be there. The reflections of the bathing room shivered on the surface of the water. Below, the mosaic of the Nine Fish Wealth Circle bent and twisted. I paused, gathering myself for the final push into the energy world, my whole being tensed for the presence of the Mirror Dragon. And for Ido.

Around me, the bathing room blurred. I pushed deeper into the Hua, plunging into the swirling energy past the grey remnants of the drugs. There was time for one quick look, and then back to safety. I narrowed my mind-sight, seeking the forms of the dragons. My body listened for the voice of Ido in my mind, for the iron grip of him on my body. There was nothing. Around the edge of the bath, huge densities of energy coalesced. Took form.

Muzzles, eyes, horns, pearls. The dragons. I stared at the space in the circle, straining to see a hint of red scale, a glint of gold pearl. But there was still no Mirror Dragon.

'I know what you are,' I whispered. 'Please, forgive me. Show yourself. Give me some hope.'

Then was a flash of movement. The large blue head of the Rat Dnagon ducked down, level with my face. I felt his energy locus on me. The touch of his power licked my wet skin, rippling across it in a wordless question. I tried to step back, but I was already hard against the wall.

'No,' I said. 'No.'

Hut his power kept pressing against me; a wild offering of energy, formless and never-ending, ready to be moulded into human desire. It was too much. It was a road straight into the heart of me that Ido could walk in a moment.

Like a distant call, I felt my right hand catch on a loose tile. An anchor to the real world. I pushed harder. The muted sting of pierced flesh dragged me away from the dragon's mesmerising gaze. The pain sharpened and the energy world rushed past me, a maelstrom of colours: blue, pink, purple, silver, green, white. And red. My breath stopped. Red? Had I truly seen red? But I was already huddled alone in the bath, my hand impaled on the jagged edge of a tile, a steady drip of blood creating scarlet swirls in the water amongst the cream frangipani petals.

I stood before the dressing chamber mirror, rolling my shoulders against the weight of the Story Robe. My cut hand throbbed in its tight binding. I flexed it, trying to work some give into the bandaging.

'Be still,' Rilla ordered.

She kneeled and folded the front edges of the heavy silk against my body. In the mirror, I saw the reflection of Lady Dela behind me, freshly bathed and dressed in mourning white, holding the thick Story Robe sash. Our eyes met in the glass.

'Do you remember what I told you?' she asked. 'You will not have a chance to speak to the Pearl Emperor until the chorus of Beseechers have left and the Shola priests have sung their ancestry chants.'

1 nodded.

'When they leave, you will be alone with him for the ghost watch,' she continued. 'But you must not speak until he speaks to you.'

'No.' I shook my head. 'I will tell him as soon as possible. My words are not going to please him whether I observe the protocols or not. He will either listen to me or he won't.' I swallowed the sudden rise of fear. And we can't afford to waste time.'

Rilla looked up. 'Do as Lady Dela says. Please. Wait until the Emperor speaks. Do everything you can to protect yourself

I touched her shoulder. 'As soon as I am dressed, I want you to go. All right?' Her expression stiffened into stubborn loyalty. 'You have to take Chart to safety. You promised.'

She held out her hands for the sash.

'It is for the best,' Lady Dela said softly as she carefully passed the silk. 'This is going to end in bloodshed, whatever way it falls. You and your son are better out of it.'

Her dark eyes darted anxiously to me, but the prediction only confirmed what I already knew in my heart. Either the Emperor would quell his uncle's ambitions with my help, or Sethon would take the throne with Ido's power. Whatever happened, there would be blood.

Rilla nodded, and absorbed herself in winding the sash around me.

Are you ready to go too?' I asked Lady Dela. 'There is no guarantee that the Emperor will not take his revenge on all who have helped me, whatever their status. If I do not come out of the ghost watch…'

'I will wait here for you to bring the red folio,' she said firmly.

And if I don't come? If Sethon and Ido have a clear way?'

'Ryko and I have a plan.'

'The islands?'

She inclined her head.

Rilla sat back on her heels. 'You are ready, Lord Eon,' she said, her voice tight.

I took a deep breath and looked in the mirror. I was, indeed, Lord Eon. The Story Robe had once more created the appearance of manliness in my slim body. To add to the illusion, something had stripped any last softness from my face — the Sun drug, perhaps — and its angularity echoed a new hardness that I felt within me. I lifted my chin; I did not want to give up being Lord Eon. Even with all the danger, all the despair, I had tasted power and respect. It was no wonder Ido craved it.

Rilla straightened a fold that marred the neat line at my calf, her hands suddenly bunching the silk hem. She was crying, silently and without fuss. In all the time I had known Rilla, I had never seen her cry.

'It's all right,' I said. A stupid, inadequate thing to say, but her tears were ripping away my hard-won composure.

She pressed my palm against her cheek. 'What you have done for Chart, for me…'

'Tell him…' I stopped, my throat blocked with a dry ache. There was too much to say. And nothing to say

'You may go, Rilla,' I whispered, letting go of her hand. 'Good luck.'

She stood and bowed, her gaze meeting mine for a long, bleak moment. 'Thank you, Lord Eon.'

She backed away. Then she was gone.

Lady Dela sighed. 'She is very devoted to you. While you were bathing, she told me how this all came about. The salt farm and Brannon's ambition.'

I finally looked away from the doorway. 'No doubt you found it an entertaining tale,' I said, taking refuge in my flimsy shell of hardness.

'No.' She faced the mirror. 'I have done many things to survive. Some at least as desperate as what you have done.' She turned and smiled wryly. 'I was very harsh in the carriage. It was the shock; you were the only hope…Well, you know the burden of hope that is on you. You should have confided in me and Ryko, but I understand why you acted as you did,'

'Why do you still help me? I am most probably a lost cause.'

She lifted her chin. 'Ryko will serve you and the Emperor to the end. And so will I.'

The danger ahead of us pushed me into blunt advice. 'You should tell Ryko that you love him.'

A flush deepened the swarthiness of her unpainted skin. A eunuch and a Contraire. How the gods would laugh,' she said bitterly.

'The gods are already laughing,' I said. 'How else could the future of an Empire rest on my shoulders?'

The old Emperor's body was laid out in the Pavilion of the Five Ghosts. It was the only building in the entire palace complex made of precious white marble, its blank facade more imposing for its lack of carving or gilt. My protocol escorts, four of the highest-ranked eunuchs, stopped at the bottom of the nine marble steps of mourning that led up to the doorway. Large brass incense burners were set to the left side of every step, the incense sticks thickening the air with their heavy melancholic perfume. Through the open doorway I could hear the soft entreaties of the Beseechers and see the flicker of their swinging lamps.

Tomorrow, the Emperor's body would be moved to the red and black Audience Hall in the entrance courtyard for all to mourn. But today, it would lie here under the watchful eyes of the new Emperor and his second mourner, set with the task of guarding it from the malevolent attention of bad spirits.

I looked back at Lady Dela. She had accompanied me as far as she was allowed — to the far edge of the Five Ghost Square — and now stood amongst the other silent courtiers, waiting for me to enter the pavilion. 'Ill see you in the apartment,' she had said firmly as I was ushered forwards by the protocol officers. I had nodded, but we both knew that the laughter ol gods did not

guarantee their goodwill. Across the expanse of the square, I could not make out Lady Dela's features, but 1 knew from the angle of her head that she was crying.

The two officers in front of me stepped to the side and bowed.

'Please ascend, my lord,' the highest-ranked man said. 'His Royal Highness the Pearl Emperor awaits you.'

I stared up the staircase at the dim arch of the double doorway. As soon as I walked into that pavilion, my life was forfeit. But I had already missed my chance of escape; it had passed me by on the sands of the Dragon Arena as I waited to make my defeated bow to an indifferent Emperor. How brief and hidden were the moments of destiny And now I faced another.

I took the first step, and then the second. Desperation had its own momentum. Now that the decision was made, I was almost impatient to meet the resolution.

But there was no hurrying destiny. I was met at the doorway by more protocol officers and led into the dim hall, past the kneeling ranks of Beseechers, the sound of their whispered entreaties made loud by sheer numbers, the swooshing swing of their lanterns an eerie counterpoint. The wrapped body of the old Emperor lay on a stone bier at the end of the chamber. A low table stood beside it, set with offerings of food and wine in gold bowls and goblets. Kneeling before his dead father was the Prince, the Pearl Emperor. He was facing the bier and his head was bowed, but I could see that it had already been shaved clean, with only the Imperial queue, braided with gold beads and jewels, left at the back. My eyes followed the broad line of his back to his hips. He wore no sword. No knife. I licked my lips in relief. He only had his hands, although with all his training they were lethal enough.

A cushion lay beside him for the second mourner. Slowly, I kneeled on it, the grinding ache in my hip dogging my movements again. My gaze dropped from the tense welcome on his face to the brutal mess of dried blood and bruising at the base of his throat. The Imperial Pearl. Its gold claw setting had been sewn roughly into the tender hollow between his collarbones, the wound still seeping into the while cloth of his robe.

'Good to have you by my side, Lord Eon.' I lis voice was hoarse and hesitant.

I met his pained eyes, my hand going to my own throat in sympathy.

He nodded. 'The royal physician fled last night.' He swallowed carefully. 'His replacement was nervous.' His pale lips quirked up into a wry smile. 'Very nervous.'

'Fled?'

The smile hardened. 'He will be found.' His dark eyes met mine and I saw how tightly he was controlling his rage. 'You and I will have our revenge.'

He bowed his head again as the Beseechers ended an entreaty progression and struck the gong. I bowed my head too, but more to hide my shock at the change in the Prince. There was something in his face and voice that made me think of Ido. I pushed back the rising fear and concentrated on the meaning behind the Prince's words. He believed the royal physician had been involved in his father's death. And my master's. Was it true? I went over and over the events leading up to my master's death and came no closer to a confident answer, but it kept me from dwelling on the moment when I would be alone with this new Emperor.

Two hours later, the Beseechers placed their lanterns on the floor in small circles of eternity, kowtowed and backed out of the pavilion. They were immediately replaced by the twelve Shola priests to sing the death chants. As we knelt through three hours of their intricate harmonies, I watched the new Emperor's hands slowly bunch into white-knuckled fists. I knew he was bracing himself against the pain; there had been so many times when I had done it myself. He was suffering and, may the gods forgive

me, I found my own hope in his weakened body. Perhaps his exhaustion would give me a chance to plead my case.

The final intonations of the death chants died away into a heavy silence. Beside me, the Pearl Emperor inhaled deeply, drawing in strength to stand. There was no evidence of his pain as he rose, bowed to his dead father and turned to face the priests, I struggled upright and bowed, then took my place at the side of the bier.

The twelve Shola priests kowtowed and backed out of the room, leaving only the two protocol officers. But they too bowed and backed away, pulling closed the heavy doors until only the mellow light from the Beseechers' lamps lit the chamber. The ghost watch had begun.

The Pearl Emperor rubbed wearily at his forehead. 'Get us some wine, Lord Eon,' he rasped, motioning towards an alcove. 'I think I will be able to drink now'

I bowed and edged over to a small table set with two gold bowls and a precious glass jug of wine.

'It is my belief that the royal physician had a hand in Lord Brannon's death,' he said, gingerly holding his throat as he spoke. 'And perhaps in my father's, although the canker in his leg was already poisoning him. The man will be found and he will pay for our sorrow'

I nodded.

'My messengers reported your success at Daikiko.' He walked towards me. 'It was well done.

You have kept your side of our pact. And I will keep mine.'

I picked up the jug, gripping hard to stop the trembling in my hand. The rich fruit scent of the red wine swirled up to me as I poured. There was a hung quality in the air, as though time had caught its breath. I picked up the bowls.

'Your Majesty,' I said, handing him the wine.

He looked into its depth then raised his eyes to mine. Waiting for me to test it. Slowly, I lifted the bowl and drank, tilting back

my head until it was drained. The wine burned as it went down, but it was the fire of alcohol.

The fire of false courage.

His mouth twisted. 'Habit,' he said and took a deep drink, wincing as he swallowed. 'I d

The moment had come.