I fixed my eyes on a lamp, panting. The sash loosened and dropped onto the platform. Rilla pulled the robe down off my shoulders. I wrenched my arms out of the sleeves and fell forwards, landing heavily on the gravel path. Sharp stones dug through my thin under-robes, sending hot pain shooting through my palms and knees. The first retch brought up spit and snot. The second, only foul gas that made me cough. The third felt as though I was dragging up my stomach. Then, in a choking stream of half-digested meat, soup, rice and wine, the banquet emptied out of me. Over and over again until it felt as though I was disgorging my very bowels.
'By the gods, how much did you eat?' Rilla said, her hand pressed against my forehead, supporting my head.
But I didn't have time to answer. I heaved with another retch. And another. Finally, it stopped.
I hawked and spat into the carefully cropped grass.
'I'm never going to eat again,' I said, wiping my nose. 'How do the nobles do it night after night?'
'Tonight was nothing,' Rilla said cheerfully She picked up the Story Robe and arranged the bulky folds over her arms. 'Wait until you see the Emperor's birthday feast next month. It goes for three days and nights.'
I slowly pushed myself up onto my feet. The far screen door slid open and two maids hurried out. One wiped my forehead with a cool damp cloth, the other offered me a cup of minted water. I rinsed my mouth and spat onto the grass. If I did not find my dragon's name soon, I would not live long enough to see the Emperor's feast.
CHAPTER 9
The next morning, I was woken by Rilla pulling back the bedchamber shutters. Dull pre-dawn light made the room a landscape of grey shadows, the flicker of red embers in the brazier the only flare of colour.
'Feeling better?' she asked.
I rolled onto my back and blinked away the blur of sleep. New shapes in the corner of the room slowly focused into a small altar — floor cushion, offering bowls, incense sticks, death plaques. I had not even noticed it last night; exhaustion had plunged me straight into a dreamless abyss. At least that deep weariness was now gone, but I was still floating in a warm lethargy. I stretched out my arms and legs, pushing past the sharp catch in my hip.
'Much better. Thank you.'
And then I remembered — I didn't have his name.
I sat up, all lazy comfort gone. Rilla crossed over to the brazier and lifted the water pot off the heat.
'I've got the tea ready' she said, pouring water into a waiting bowl. 'Do you think you can manage some food too?'
My stomach lurched then settled into a hollow ache. 'Maybe a little bit.'
I didn't have his name and no one must know. Not even my master or Rilla. Not yet, anyway.
Rilla whisked the tea then carefully carried it to the bedside table.
'Drink that up and I'll be back in a minute,' she said, heading to the door.
'Can you make it something plain?' I asked.
'No duck, I promise,' she said, smiling. The door closed.
I leaned back against the headboard. Even though the ghost-maker's tea was an arm's-length away, its dank smell was making my stomach turn. I picked it up and stared into the murky liquid. I had to think of some way to find my dragon's name.
Where did one look for the unknowable? Even if I wanted to risk asking someone, there was no one to ask — who would have the Mirror Dragon's secret name except the Mirror Dragoneye? No, the only one who knew the dragon's name was the dragon. And since I did not have his name, I could not call him in order to ask him his name.
I blew on the tea and drank the bowl in one long gulp, clenching my teeth against the vile taste and heat.
And now, whenever I saw the Mirror Dragon, he was shrouded in mist. I couldn't even feel his presence.
Except last night.
The thought made me sit up straight. When Lord Ido was trying to charm me, something had pulled me into my mind-sight. It must have been the red dragon — what else could it have been? He was calling me.
Was that possible? I had never heard of such a thing. But then I still knew very little about the ways of the dragons. Perhaps he was just waiting for me to merge into mind-sight. Waiting to give me his name. I set the bowl down and propped myself back against the headboard.
Breathing deeply I tried to relax my body
Tried to narrow my mind's-eye and concentrate on the energy world. But my muscles twitched, my hip ached and my mind skittered between hope and fear. It was like trying to find rest on a bed of thorns.
The last time I had seen the red dragon was in the warm quiet of the bathing room. Maybe another bath would help me see him again.
Rilla sloshed a bucketful of water over my shoulders.
'They say taking too many baths can weaken the body' she said caustically I shifted impatiently on the stool, pleating the loincloth between my fingers. 'I'll go and soak now.'
'But I haven't done your arms and legs.'
'They're not dirty'
Ignoring the stiffness in my hip, I shuffled across the tiles to the bath and sloshed down the steps, wading quickly through the warm water to the sitting ledge. Rilla crossed her arms, watching me with a frown.
'Is everything all right?'
I found the seat and settled back, leaning my head against the edge as I had done yesterday
'You can go now,' I said.
She blinked at the dismissal. 'Well, I'll be back on the half bell, then,' she said, picking up the buckets. 'Otherwise you'll be late for the Prince.' At the door, she looked back at me. Are you sure you're all right?'
I nodded, closing my eyes until I heard the click of the latch.
With a deep sigh, I lowered myself further into the water until it lapped around my chin. The warmth was working its way into my bones. I glanced around the edge of the bath: no sign of the dragons. The steam was leaving a taste of ginger on my tongue that cut through the bitter residue of the ghost-maker's tea. I stared at the mosaic of Brin, the river god, on the far wall and counted my
breaths. On the tenth exhale, I felt my vision blur as my mind's-eye reached towards the flow of Hua in the room. A slight pulse of energy beat at me, rippling across my skin. Around me, large shadowy forms moved and dark eyes watched. I pushed deeper into the energy. Like the creep of sunlight across shade, the circle of ghostly silhouettes brightened into the solid rainbow bodies of the dragons. All of them, except one. No red dragon. I pushed away the heavy disappointment and took a deep breath, inching along the Hua, feeling for the Mirror Dragon, my focus on the gap in the circle. The steam shivered and swirled. Gathered form: dark eyes, red muzzle, gold pearl. All swathed in a dense haze.
'I don't have your name,' I said. My voice echoed around the room. 'I don't have your name.'
The huge eyes looked through me.
'Please, what is your name?'
I stood up. Perhaps I needed to touch the pearl again. Stretching out my hands, I waded forwards. But each step I took thickened the mist around him until he was almost obscured by a wall of fog. I stopped at its edge. The faint outline of the pearl glowed through the opaque barrier. I reached up for it, but instead of touching a hard surface, my hand passed through air.
The dragon was not solid. I thrust both hands through, raking the mist. Nothing.
'What do you want? What do I need to do?' I pleaded.
A whiptail of memory flicked at me — my hands fused to a pulsing pearl, and a dragon's desire peeling back layers to a buried name, the name I could not risk shouting. Did he want that name before he would give his own? I glanced around the room. I knew there was no one else there, but I had not spoken the name in four years. My master had forbidden it, and I had trained myself not to say it, not to think it, not to remember it. The name belonged to another person in another life.
I leaned closer.
'Eona,' I whispered.
I stared into the mist, holding my breath. Nothing. The dragon was still shrouded in fog. I let out my breath in a hiss of despair.
Just as I p
ulled back, I saw a small gap open in the mist. The thick covering was separating into thin streamers that paled then disappeared. The colours of the dragon slowly sharpened into clarity: the lustre on the gold pearl, the fire of the orange and scarlet scales.
It was working.
'Eona,' I whispered again. I reached up for the pearl, shivering with excitement. 'Please, what is your name?'
But once more my hand passed through the gold orb. I groped into air over and over again.
Although the dragon was bright, he was still not solid. And his eyes did not see me.
My true name wasn't enough.
I sucked in a ragged breath and slapped both hands down into the water, sending a shower over the edge of the bath. Why wasn't it enough?
'What do I have to do?' I yelled.
To my left, a flash of pale blue scales and opal claws reared above me. The Rat Dragon filled my vision, his power fireballing through me. The water in the bath erupted, knocking me off my feet. I went under, struggled for the surface, then felt a force pushing me upwards. I broke into the air, gasping, arms and legs flailing for a grip as I was propelled out of the water. Then I hit something hard. The wall. Shoulder, thigh, knee. I bounced off the cold tiles, falling backwards onto the floor. A moment of quiet numbness, and then my whole side flamed into agony.
'Holy gods,' Rilla said, running from the doorway. 'What's going on?'
'I don't know,' I gasped, curling up against the pain.
And for once I was telling the truth.
The palace guide clapped for attendance at the ornate entrance to the Imperial harem. A porter appeared behind the gilded
laccwork of the gate. I shifted my weight from one leg to the other, trying to find a comfortable position between the old pain in my hip and the new aches from the bathing room. Although Rilla had gently pressed along my bones and decided I was only bruised, it was still costing me to stand and wait while the courtesies of entering the harem were played out.
To take my mind off the painful failure to connect with my dragon, I concentrated on the two Shadow Men guarding the gateway Neither eunuch was as large as Ryko, but each had an impressive bulk of muscle across arms and chest. There seemed to be two types of eunuch in the palace: those who had kept the strength and body of a man, and those that were slowly transforming into softer, rounder contours. What made the difference?
I pulled at the high collar of the day tunic that Rilla had picked out for me. It was a deep burnt orange, the front richly embroidered with pale green bamboo for longevity and courage. A good choice, under the circumstances. Rilla had matched it with a pair of grey loose trousers that ended at the ankle. She had told me to come back and change after the lesson — it was not appropriate to wear a day tunic to the Dragoneye Council. Before, I had only ever had two tunics: one for work, one slightly less worn for best. Now I seemed to be changing clothes every few hours.
'Here is Lord Eon, come at the invitation of His Highness Prince Kygo,' the guide announced.
A clatter of locks and latches sounded, and the gate opened. An old man with a face that drooped in doughy folds bowed and motioned me into a dark narrow corridor. The clash of the gate closing behind me echoed off the stone walls.
The Imperial harem was a huge walled and heavily guarded complex of buildings and gardens set in the centre of the palace grounds. It was in the position of Great Abundance, but Lady Dela had told me that this Emperor kept only forty concubines and had fathered only twelve children, four of them to Lady Jila. Apparently he loves her, Lady Dela had said, raising her eyebrows. It was no wonder; Lady Jila had given him his only two sons.
I was led through the cold corridor into the bright warmth of a courtyard that was easily the size of my master's Moon Garden. At the far end, a high brick wall with three gates set into it shielded the rest of the harem from view A row of low buildings on each side, all of them with closed shutters, faced a carefully laid out central garden: narrow paved paths winding around flowerbeds, miniature trees hung with birdcages, and a pond that rippled with the orange gleam of carp. Through the whistling of the captive birds, I heard the faint staccato rise of a giggle. It was cut short by a sharp reprimand. I turned to look, and a cluster of women peering through the bars of the central gate stepped back out of sight.
'This way, my lord.'
I followed the old eunuch down one of the pathways, breaking into painful jogging steps now and again to keep up with his surprising pace. He led me past the pond to the last building on the right side and bowed me into an open doorway.
It was a small dim waiting room, the only light coming from the doorway and the small gaps between the carved flowers of the window shutters. A long bench padded with blue cushions was set against the opposite wall, a low table before it displaying a decanter and drinking bowls. A folding silk screen, painted with delicate scenes of long-legged cranes and tall grasses, stretched across the far wall.
The old eunuch motioned me towards the bench. 'My lord, may I offer you some refreshment?'
'No, thank you.'
He bowed and withdrew.
I had just stepped up to the screen for a closer look when a soft murmur made me turn. A lady in a long formal tunic of green had paused in the doorway to dismiss her eunuch attendant.
She
entered alone, sinking into a court bow in front of me, the top of her headdress swinging with jade pendants.
'Lord Eon, I am Lady Jila. Please forgive me for diverting you from your attendance upon His Majesty the Prince. It is only momentary, I assure you.'
She looked up and it was obvious that Lady Jila had passed some of her beauty onto her son.
Her delicate bones had, in the Prince, strengthened into bolder lines, but both of them had large dark eyes and a graceful symmetry to their faces that touched something deep within me. I found myself bowing to her — a breach of protocol — but a quick smile answered my courtesy It was so full of quiet understanding and intelligence that I could see why an Emperor might prefer her company to all others.
'I have come to ask something of you, my lord,' she said, her gaze as forthright as her words.
'In what way can I be of help to you, my lady?' I asked, although the last thing I wanted to hear was another request. The expectations of my master and the Emperor already weighed too heavily on me.
She rose and sat on the bench, clasping her hands together tightly in her lap. Reluctantly, I took a seat further along.
'It was the Empress's dying wish that Prince Kygo, her only child, study and live within the safety of the harem until he was eighteen,' Lady Jila said carefully 'But it has not been easy for the Prince: he chafes at the scholarly life and yearns to stand beside his father. It is now vital that he does so. You have seen how ill the Emperor —' She bit her lip and turned away When she turned back, her face was once again controlled. 'You may wonder why I have cornered you to talk of the Prince, but I have watched him grow up and I am very fond of him.'
Our gazes locked.
'Lady Jila,' I said, just as carefully, 'I am aware of your special interest in Prince Kygo.'
Ahh.' She smiled wryly. 'Lady Dela?'
I hesitated then nodded.
'You are fortunate to have won Lady Dela's counsel,' Lady Jila said. 'Nothing much happens in this court without her knowledge.' She turned a heavy emerald ring on her slim finger. 'So, you must know why I am here.'
'I can guess.'
She took a deep breath. 'Lord Eon, I add my voice to the Emperor's and ask you to protect our son. I ask you to use your power in his interests. I believe he is in great danger.' Tentatively, she touched my arm. 'But I also ask you to befriend him. There are not many young men at court who have both the rank and the political allegiance for such a bond. But you are close in rank and, I believe, have the same political agenda. He needs a friend, and he could help you as much as you could help him.'
'You want me to be his friend?'
'I do,' she said.
&n
bsp; 'But friendship is not something that can be forced. On either side.'
She smiled. 'Lady Dela told me your thinking was older than your years, and I see it is so.' I stiffened but she did not seem to notice. 'I am not asking you to force a friendship, my lord. I am asking you to think about the advantages of being prepared to like my son.'
I blinked at her phrasing; Lady Jila sliced up meaning as finely as a master cook cut up shark fin.
'Will you do that?' she asked.
A darkening at the doorway made us both turn. The straight-backed figure of Prince Kygo was silhouetted for a moment then stepped into the room, a quiet command sending his retinue of eunuchs back out the door. We both hurriedly dropped to our knees and bowed.
'Will you promise?' Lady Jila said, her voice low and urgent.
'Yes.'
The Prince's feet stopped in front of us, clad in soft leather slippers dyed the exact royal blue of his trousers.
'Greetings, Lord Eon, Ladyjila. Please rise, both of you,' he said. 'Lord Eon, we are waiting for you in the pavilion.'
1 pushed myself upright, sucking in a breath as my aching muscles unlocked. Ladyjila remained on her knees.
'It is my fault Lord Eon is delayed,' she said, bowing lower. 'Please forgive me, dear son.'
Prince Kygo looked down at her, startled. How long had it been since he had heard his true mother call him son? He glanced across at me, acknowledging the trust of the moment. 'Then there is no fault at all,' he said softly, 'Mother.'
He held out his hand and she took it, rising with the grace of a dancer. They smiled at one another, the same sweet hesitancy mirrored in their faces.
'I must, however, take Lord Eon away from you,' he said. 'Teacher Prahn awaits us.'
'Of course.' She patted his hand and let go, then nodded to me, her eyes holding my promise.
'Farewell, Lord Eon.'
'My lady' I nodded politely and followed the Prince out of the room.
In the courtyard, he beckoned me to walk beside him. A jerk of his head repositioned his eunuch guards further away, out of hearing range. We walked along the garden path towards the larger middle gate, the birds fluttering in their cages as we passed. I saw him glance at my limp and subtly slow his pace.
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