Eon: Dragoneye Reborn e-1

by Alison Goodman

  Tellon laughed. 'That rumour does the rounds every year. It's not true — one dragon, one Dragoneye.' Fie beckoned us closer, lowering his voice. 'But there is a legend about harnessing the power of all the dragons. It says that if a Dragoneye kills all of the other Dragoneyes and their apprentices, then the energy of the twelve dragons will funnel though him, giving him the power of a god…just before it rips him apart.'

  Dillon gasped. 'Really?'

  Tellon laughed and tapped Dillon on the head. 'I wouldn't start plotting the murders of all your colleagues just yet. It is only a story to frighten young apprentices.'

  Dillon grinned. I could see him lighten under the master's playfulness.

  Tellon clapped once again, marshalling our attention. 'I will now show you the Staminata,' he said. 'It is meditation within movement; very slow, very controlled. The twenty-four postures you will learn, together with the control of your breath, will carry the Hua around your body along the twelve meridians and through the seven power centres.' He ran his hand up from belly to crown, touching each centre lightly 'You will eventually learn how to activate each of the centres to carry Hua to the physical, emotional and spiritual levels where you most need it.'

  He stood up. 'Watch.'

  His body loosened, weight settling into the ground, his long arms held out in front of him. His eyes seemed to lose their focus yet were still looking at something ahead. Nothing seemed to be happening, and then I realised his hands were gradually rising, the left leading the right.

  His body shifted, the weight moving from the left foot to the right. Everything as slow as the sun moving across the sky There was something familiar about it. I squinted, trying to imagine how it would look if each movement was faster. His left arm floated downwards, his body turning with the flow, and it was then I recognised the Rat Dragon Second from the ceremonial sequence. As soon as I made that

  connection, I saw each of the animal forms in Tellon's graceful positions. They were not exactly the same, but the essence of each was present. He finished with the pressing motion of the Pig Dragon Third and stood for a moment, the long angles of his face softened.

  'So,' he said, his voice deeper, 'Lin and Gan are balanced, the body is energised yet relaxed.

  This is called the state of Huan-Lo.' He smiled and his eyes focused back onto us. Apprentice Dillon, tell me what you saw.'

  'It was slow,' Dillon said, glancing at me for help. And it was…'

  He trailed off. Couldn't he see the forms?

  Tellon grunted. 'And you, Lord Eon? Did you observe anything?'

  'I saw some of the animal forms from the ceremonial approach sequence.'

  Tellon stared at me thoughtfully. 'Well, that is interesting. Most of my students don't see that until they are well into their studies.' He rubbed his hands together again. All right. Stand up and we will make a start.'

  For the next two hours we learned the parts of the first posture. I'd smugly assumed that since I already knew the approach sequence it would be easy to slow it down into the Staminata. I was wrong. My movements were too fast, I was holding my breath, the angles of my feet were wrong, one arm was too high, the other too wide, my weight was on the wrong side, or the right side but too heavy Beside me, Dillon was experiencing similar problems, his new shortened temper flashing into moments of stamping frustration.

  And then, for one glorious moment, I felt the change of Lin and Gan flow through my body It was a gentle rocking that moved from my crown to my toes as though my whole body was one deep sigh. All the pain and stiffness was gone. And underneath it all was the faint whispering presence, the shadow heartbeat that I could not quite reach. Within the harmony of my slow movements, I knew I could bring that presence into me. I started to draw it closer, but then I thought of the Rat Dragon, of its rearing power. If I reached into my Hua, would he rise again? Hurl me against the wall? As soon as the fear touched my mind, the flow of the form twisted and broke. I was once again stiff and awkward. A cripple.

  Despair hollowed me. I had to find my dragon's name soon — I no longer dared even to slip into mind-sight in case the Rat Dragon overwhelmed me. The folio must hold the key to my power. I had to get it back. A tiny barb pierced my certainty: what if the folio held no answers? I pushed the fear down; the folio was my only chance.

  Tellon clapped his hands.

  All right, that will do for now I could see you had it there for a moment, Lord Eon. A good start. Do not be disheartened because it slipped away.' He gave me an encouraging smile.

  'You will probably find that you feel heavy. Try not to make sudden movements.' He patted Dillon's shoulder, walking between us to the door. A valiant attempt, Apprentice. Now, both of you, go and sleep. I have made it clear to Lord Brannon and Lord Ido that you are to rest after our classes.'

  Outside, two guides waited to lead us back to our quarters. The Prince's entourage had left and only a lone servant was on the practice sand, raking down the churns. Dillon and I followed our guides through the large deserted square in silence. Halfway across, I grabbed his arm and stopped him.

  'I want to get into your hall tonight,' I whispered.

  'What?' He tried to pull away but I did not let go.

  'I want to go into Lord Ido's library and look for that folio. Will you help me?'

  'Why?'

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw the guides turning back to us. I raised my hand to stop them.

  'The folio is part of the Mirror Dragon treasures.'

  I watched Dillon's face change as he made the connection.

  'He stole it?'

  'Yes. And I've got to get it back.'

  Dillon was already shaking his head. 'No. No. I can't help you. He'll hurt me if he finds out.'

  'You don't have to come into the library with me. Just let me into the hall and show me where it is.'

  'You don't understand.' Dillon rocked on his feet, his hands twisting together. 'It's not only locked. There's this feeling around it that stops you from even getting to the door. It's like every bad thing you've ever felt.'

  I let go of his arm. 'I thought you said you weren't his slave? But that was just talk, wasn't it?

  You don't have the courage to go against him. You can't even open a gate without his permission.'

  'You don't understand what he's like,' he whispered.

  I had expected him to come at me with quick fury, not this helpless terror.

  'Dillon, I need your help. How many times did I save you from Ranne? How many kickings did I take for you?' It was a low strategy, but I had to get that folio.

  'Can you save me again?' he asked bitterly

  'What?'

  'Ranne got thrown out of the school and Lord Ido has hired him as a guard.'

  I stared at him. 'That's awful.'

  Dillon nodded.

  I grabbed at a straw. 'If I steal the folio back, maybe he'll get into trouble. Lose his job.'

  Dillon gave a wan smile. 'Maybe.'

  'What do you say?' I tried to keep the desperation out of my voice. 'For our friendship?'

  He looked down at his feet. 'I won't go into the library'

  'You don't have to,' I said quickly

  'Just the gate?'

  'Just let me in and point me in the right direction.'

  He looked at me, swallowing hard. 'I'm not his slave.'

  I gripped his shoulder. 'I know.'

  Under my hand, his body was trembling.

  'What kind of lock is it?' I asked.

  CHAPTER 11

  Unlike the buildings in the first three sections of the harem, the ladies' apartments were not set around a square. Instead, they were built along small paved streets, like a miniature town.

  Most of the houses had two levels and, although every one of them was in good repair, most had shuttered windows and an aura of abandonment. There had been a time when the Imperial harem had numbered over five hundred concubines. Now, no more than fifty women and children lived in the compound.

&nbs
p; The porter led me through the eerily quiet streets. Apparently Lady Dela's house was not part of the main community near the section gate. It was her choice, the porter had said quickly.

  He had also told me that she was out making a visit in the palace precinct, but I had waved away his suggestion of leaving a message. I would wait at her residence.

  A deep lethargy was making every step an effort. I had ignored Master Tellon's orders to rest after our class. As soon as Dillon and I had agreed that he would let me into the Rat 1)ragon Hall on the midnight bell, I had directed my guide to take me to the harem. Now I understood why Tellon had insisted

  we sleep. I felt as though there was a space in my head where I was floating, as though I was in a warm enclosed bath.

  We finally stopped outside a small wooden house. It was on one level and stood at the end of a small cul-de-sac that was collecting the energy flow from a large communal garden at the top of a narrow laneway. The red door and shutters were open, letting the cooler afternoon breeze into the shadowy interior.

  'Lady Dela's residence, my lord,' the porter said, bowing.

  Announce me.'

  He clapped and called, 'Lord Eon, for Lady Dela.'

  There was the sound of footsteps and a figure in a long brown tunic emerged from the gloom: a girl with her hair braided into the neat crown-knot of a lady's maid. The light caught three silver tassels hanging from a New 'Year hairpin thrust through the centre of her bun. A costly possession for a servant; probably a gift from Lady Dela. The girl squinted into the light, her nose wrinkling at my exercise garb. Then her eyes focused on my face. Gasping, she dropped to her knees.

  'My lord.' Her forehead almost touched the ground. 'I'm sorry, my lord. Lady Dela is not here.'

  I crossed my arms over my tunic. 'When is she expected to return?' I asked, glad the girl was face down and could not see the flush of stupidity on my skin; a Dragoneye lord did not call on a court lady in his sparring gear.

  'She is not long away, my lord. If you would like to wait inside, I can fetch her for you.'

  'Yes. I'll wait.'

  I dismissed the porter and followed the girl into the tiny hallway, my breathing sweetened for a moment by a waft of frangipani. Lady Dela's perfume.

  The main room obviously served as both reception and living area. In the corner near the window, two formal chairs were set on either side of a small table and half hidden by a delicate screen, the blackwood frame covered in thin parchment instead of silk. A low eating table was pushed up against the left wall, straw seating mats stored beneath it. Along the other wall was a day pallet, draped in royal blue velvet and stacked with cotton cushions that ranged from eggshell to midnight. A few darned patches stood out on the velvet like old scars.

  The girl led me to the formal chairs. 'Would you care for wine while you wait, my lord?' she asked.

  'No, thank you.' I sat down, feeling the thin wood creak under me.

  She bowed and left. Through the open front window I saw her running up the laneway, her hand clamped over the precious hairpin.

  The chair did not seem very stable. Afraid it would break, I stood, my interest caught by a collection of small boxes arranged along a shallow shelf above the pallet. Five of them, all different shapes. I kneeled on the bed and picked up one made of pale wood inset with black stone in the design of a spider. A symbol of happiness. I hooked my fingernail under the lid and flipped it open. A thin layer of powder lay in the bottom. I sniffed. Chalky roses. It was face powder. I slid it back onto the shelf and pushed myself off the pallet.

  The doorway into the next room was closed with a thick curtain of faded indigo damask. It would be an unforgivable breach of courtesy to go through it. I checked the laneway through the window — no one was coming — then moved the curtain aside, stepping into a small dressing room.

  The pungent scent of cedar caught me in the back of the throat, forcing a cough. The smell was probably coming from the three large storage chests set against the wall. Opposite them, long, deep shelves were stacked with neat calico-wrapped bundles: Lady Dela's collection of robes. Her fortune. A window fitted with waxed paper let in a soft light. Beside it, a long green tunic hung from a rack. I touched the folds, feeling the cloth slide through my fingers like fine sand. Her gown set out for the evening.

  I walked over to a plain wooden press and slowly pushed the door across with one finger.

  Underclothes. Embroidered silk drawers, diamond-shaped chemises that tied at waist and neck, even stiff breasts-bands. It was then I realised I was looking for something that was not female. What was I doing? Looking for a lie, like mine? But Lady Dela was the most truthful of us all. I slid the door shut with a snap, my betrayal framed in the long mirror beside me.

  I looked at the wary boy-girl reflected in the glass. This was how I was going to live for the rest of my life. Never able to make an unguarded move. Always watching for suspicion, danger, discovery. The girl I once was, lost in years of pretending to be a boy. Or had my Sun energy just overwhelmed the Moon in me?

  On a small table at my elbow was a collection of elaborate hairpins, earrings, bracelets and a pot of white skin paint. I picked up a long pin with five gold blossoms hanging from a delicate chain. With a twist, I tightened my Dragoneye braids into a knot, like the maid's, and stuck the pin through it. I swung my head to and fro, watching the gold blossoms shimmer against the oiled darkness of my hair. I looked over my shoulder. Did I have time for more?

  Feverishly, I chose four enamelled bracelets, pushing them over my hand and shaking them down my arm, watching my reflection smile as they clinked together. Another four on the other arm, the thick bands accentuating my delicate wrist. Next, a pair of earrings: black pearls hanging like a bunch of grapes from a gold hook. I was not pierced like Lady Dela, so I held them up to my earlobes, the bracelets chiming. The fall of pearls made my throat look longer. I tilted my head, watching the smooth line of my white neck. Through my body, energy boomed like another heartbeat. Whispering. Calling.

  'Lord Eon?'

  I swung around, the energy choked off like a stifled cry. Lady Dela was standing at the doorway, her hand holding back the

  curtain. Behind her, the maid was on her toes straining to see over her mistress's shoulder.

  Lady Dela rounded on the girl. 'Get out. Now!'

  She twitched the curtain across, closing off the maid's view. I was still holding the earrings up to my ears. I thrust them behind me, my eyes fixed on Lady Dela; there was no shock on her face.

  Had she guessed?

  'Lady Dela,' Ryko's voice was muffled through the curtain, 'please do not barge ahead like that. I need to check your quarters before you enter.'

  She pulled the curtain closer to the doorframe.

  'I am all right,' she called through the heavy cloth. 'I am here with Lord Eon. Leave us be.'

  She turned back to me, her face drawn.

  'I'm sorry,' I said. 'I just…'

  I stopped, not knowing what to say

  She shook her head and waved my apology aside. 'I am the last person who needs an explanation.' She glanced back at the doorway, lowering her voice. 'But promise me you will be more careful. I wish you could wear these things and be safe, but there are people around here who will not tolerate this kind of difference, even in a Moon Shadow. And they do not care about rank. They will hurt you. Like they have hurt me.'

  She pulled down the scalloped neck of her robe. A series of raw gashes, only half healed, marred the smooth flat skin over her heart. For a moment all I saw were deep, ugly cuts. Then I saw that it was a character carved into her flesh: demon.

  She looked down at the mutilation. 'See? You must be very careful.'

  I nodded, caught between horror at the wound and relief that she had not guessed the truth.

  But even though she had leaped to the wrong conclusion, I knew she was right. If anyone found out what I really was, they would do more than brand me with their hate. They would kill me. A female Dragone
ye was a travesty of

  everything natural in the world.

  I placed the earrings back onto the table, leaning on it for support. The desire to tell Lady Dela who I was — what I was — surged through me. I closed my eyes, riding out the impulse. It was not only my life at stake.

  I felt for the pin in my hair and pulled. It was snagged in a braid. Only a tiny pain, but I still cried out.

  'Here, let me help,' Lady Dela said.

  She stepped up behind me and I felt her fingers working through my caught hair. It brought the memory of another long-ago touch: my mother combing out snags and knots.

  'Why do you wear women's clothes? There is no power in being a woman, and you are suffering for your choice,' I said. 'You could wear men's tunics and they'd leave you alone.'

  The pin came free and she stepped away from me. I heard it clink onto the crowded table.

  'When I was seven or so, my sister caught me wearing her skirt,' Lady Dela said softly. 'But even before that, I knew I was different from the other boys in our tribe. Nothing boyish came naturally to me. I hated hunting, fishing, even the ball games. I had to work at it, all the time.'

  I turned around. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her body.

  'Then one day I found the beaded skirt my sister had laboured over for months, tucked away in our family's tent,' she continued. 'When I put it on, I felt complete. I remember thinking that it was just the thing to wear to the mudhoie while I pretended to make the special bread our mother baked for Midwinter Feast.' She smiled ruefully As you can imagine, beautiful beaded skirts and mud do not mix. My sister found me and dragged me back to our mother for a beating. Of course, my sister's righteous indignation was lost in the excitement when my mother and the other women saw me dressed in a skirt.'

  'What did they do?'

  'Instead of a beating, my mother sat me down beside her and slowed me how to mill the rice.

  She always suspected I was a twin soul. She was just waiting for me to come to it myself. A wise woman, my mother. But I did not take on the life of a Contraire until much later. Until I was sure. It is an honoured position in my tribe.' She gave a small, bitter laugh. 'Not so honoured here.'