Curled over me was the real dragon. I could see him. The shift of the heavy muscles. The delicate pattern of scalloped scales. The sheen of the gold-tinged pearl held beneath his chin.
He ducked his head, bringing his eyes closer, the ancient gaze pulling me into light and dark, Sun and Moon, Lin and Gan. He was birth and death. He was Hua.
He was the Mirror Dragon. The lost dragon.
The great head lifted, offering me the pearl. Offering me his power.
I raised my hands, hesitating as a deep thrum of energy pulsed from the gem. So much raw Hua — what would it do to me?
A soft huff of spicy breath touched my face then the pearl was pressing hard against my palms. It was warm with his body heat, the surface flaring with a gold-edged flame that flicked my skin in silky stings. I heard a rumbling acknowledgement from the crowd. They could see him too. They could see the Mirror Dragon choosing me — Eon, the cripple. Then the deep murmur changed into shouts. I wrenched my gaze from the Mirror Dragon's hold.
Men were pointing, cowering in their seats, scrambling away. All of the other dragons had suddenly materialised on the top of the mirrors; eleven massive solid bodies, their hides gleaming in colours that made the rich silks of the cringing nobles seem dull. The Ox Dragon stretched an amethyst claw towards me, the dark purple of his leg softening into the colour of dusk shadows. The Tiger Dragon ducked his emerald head, a bow that showed a thick moss mane flecked with copper. I twisted around to see the others, barely taking in the dawn pinks of the Rabbit Dragon, the bold orange Horse Dragon, the silvery Goat Dragon. My mind grabbed images of the other beasts: copper, ebony, brown, ivory, soft grey. All of them staring at me with their spirit eyes.
The arena was a heaving mass of movement: officials and musicians running for the rampway men of all ranks scrabbling over seats to the upper levels. In all of the shrill hysteria, the stillness of a nearby figure drew my gaze. Lord Ido. His face was stiff with shock, his hands flexing in and out of fists. He tilted back his head, turning to see the circle of dragons. They were all bowing to the Mirror I )ragon. Bowing to me. Even the Ascendant Rat Dragon.
Eleven
mighty beasts holding their heads in low obeisance, the huge pearls under their chins reflected in the ring of mirrors like a god's necklace. Narrowing his eyes, Lord Ido faced the Rat Dragon and braced himself, as if hauling a great weight. He slowly drew up his hands, sucking power from the earth. I saw it streaming through him as clearly as I saw the flare of his seven energy centres. He was calling the Rat Dragon. I could hear it, like a deep vibration in my body, demanding the beast's attention. Slowly, reluctantly, the blue dragon rose from his bow. Lord Ido dropped his arms and swung around to stare at me. For a moment, I thought I saw his bold features tighten with fear. But then he smiled — a slow baring of teeth — and I knew it was not fear. It was hunger.
Above me, the Mirror Dragon crooned and I felt something shift through my being, like a whisper at the edge of my senses. Something important. I laid my ear against the pearl and held my breath, straining to hear. For a moment it surged closer, pushing up against a dark resistance. I caught a soft lilt with no form, no meaning, and then it faded away like the end of a sigh. I spread my fingers across the hard velvety surface — a silent plea to let me try again.
But it was gone.
What had I let slip away?
The pearl moved under my hands as the dragon lifted his head. He called for me, a piercing shriek that coursed through my body, searching for my core. There was nowhere to hide from the silver rush of energy. It stripped my soul bare, peeling back the shell of Eon. Finding me.
Finding Eona.
My true name surged through me, dredged from the very
No!
They would kill me. Kill my master. I clenched my teeth. The name filled my head, thundering through it, spiking into crescendos of pain. Eona. Eona. Eona.
No! It would be my death. I dragged my face off the pearl but my hands would not move, fused by the pulsing power. I screamed, trying to drown out the name in my head, the sound joining the Mirror Dragon's shrill cry. But the name still pounded at me, the weight of a dragon's desire behind it. Too strong. Any moment it would be forced out of me.
'I am Eon,' I shouted. 'Eon.'
I pushed harder against the pearl, the power shimmering along the surface of my hands and arms. Then I threw my body backwards. For a second all I felt was tearing pain, then my hands ripped free and I was falling again. Falling into a blackness that gaped with loss and loneliness.
CHAPTER 6
I came to my senses slowly, a dim light penetrating the grey blur of sleep. I opened my eyes wider. A room. But none of the dimensions were familiar; the ceiling was too high, the walls too far away. Someone was chanting — a low hum of entreaty — and the air was scented. It took a moment to place the sweet smell: the special incense used for the sick. I rolled onto my back and felt soft silk brush my skin.
'Lord Eon?'
I raised my head and saw the silhouette of a woman sitting on a stool. The white blur of her face was topped by a coronet of coiled hair pinned with gold ornaments. A court lady.
Standing behind her was a heavyset Shadow Man, dark-skinned with his head shaved clean and his hands resting on the hilts of two sheathed swords. Then my eye was drawn to a flicker of light in 1 he corner of the room. A paper prayer lantern swinging from the hand of a black-robed Beseecher — the source of the chanting. Beside him was a servant half hidden in the gloom.
'Lord Eon? Can you speak?' The lady's voice was deep and resonant.
I pulled myself up onto an elbow. My head pounded with an echo of the red dragon's power and every part of me felt bruised. I was lying on a bed; a real bed, not just a roll. It was as wide as three pallets with raised sides made of black lacquered wood. A heavy yellow silk sheet covered me. It slipped a little as I moved, my neck and shoulder goosing in the cool air.
I looked down: no red tunic. Just a loose sleeveless night smock that was too big. I twitched the sheet over my bare skin. Had this woman undressed me? Had she seen me?
'Do you need your body servant?' The lady snapped her fingers. The figure in the shadows stepped forwards.
Rilla.
My servant?
'You should have some water,' the lady said. She waved Rilla over to a long bureau beneath the shuttered window. A reddish glow from a small brazier outlined the familiar shape of a water jug.
This wasn't my master's house. Where was I?
Rilla bowed and passed me a small drinking bowl. It was gold, engraved with a peony. Why was she giving me a noble's cup? Did she want to get me punished? I tried to push it back into her hands then saw the raw skin of burns and blisters on her fingers.
'What happ-?'
She gave a slight shake of her head and pushed the bowl back to me.
'Thank you.' My voice was raspy from disuse. How long had I been senseless? I took a sip of the water then gulped at the cool wet relief.
'That is enough for now,' the court lady chided gently. 'The physicians say you must take water slowly or your body will reject it.'
Rilla bowed again and took the empty bowl back to the bureau. The court lady signalled to the Beseecher, stopping his low chant, then rose gracefully from her seat. She kneeled on one knee and bowed, her long hands folded against one hip.
'Lord Eon,' she said, 'now that you are refreshed, you must be wondering where you are. This is the Peony guest apartment of the Imperial Palace. I am Lady Dela. It is my honour to welcome you to the palace and instruct you on the protocols of the court.'
Lord Eon? The palace?
'What...' I cleared my throat. 'What am I doing here?'
She straightened and I saw her face in the glow from the covered oil lamp between us. Rough skin painted with heavy white make-up. Square jaw, cheekbones high and sharp. Dark, deep-set eyes ringed wi
th kohl and set under thinned arches. A curved nose spoke of ancestors from the Eastern Tribes and her mouth was generous, an upward curve hinting at humour. It was a strong face with more hawk-like majesty than beauty But what drew my eye was a large black pearl hanging from a gold pin threaded horizontally through the skin of her throat. It straddled the round of her windpipe, covering a noticeable knob that lumped when she swallowed.
'Do you remember the ceremony, my lord?' she asked, the pearl trembling as she spoke.
I fell a Hash of remembered heat and pain, a sudden image of my hands clawed across the pearl and the dragon curved over me.
'I remember the dragon coming to me across the sand.'
She nodded. 'The lost dragon. You are the new Mirror Dragoneye. The first in five hundred years. His Imperial Majesty has proclaimed the dragon's return as a most auspicious sign.'
'Mirror Dragoneye?' I repeated. 'But I'm just a candidate.'
'Yes, there was some resistance in the Dragoneye Council due to your youth and inexperience, but after much debate they have recognised your position.' She paused, the wide mouth quirking up lor a second. 'You are now Co-Ascendant Dragoneye with Lord ldo.'
I stared at her.
'Co Ascendant Dragoneye? But I'm just a candidate, I can't be a Dragoneye.' I pushed back against the pillow, coming up hard against the lacquered headboard.
'My lord, you have been chosen by the Mirror Dragon. There is no incumbent Dragoneye to apprentice you, therefore you are the Dragoneye.' Again, the slight smile. 'The Council used Lord Ido's own precedent of early status to come to a decision.'
I looked around the room. 'Where is my master?'
'Heuris Brannon is in conference with His Imperial Majesty and the Dragoneye Council,'
Lady Dela said slowly 'My lord, I know this is a Jot to take in, but you must now realise that Heuris Brannon is no longer your master. You are Lord Eon. Co-Ascendant Dragoneye. The highest rank in the land except for the Imperial family. Do you understand?'
'No,' I said, feeling all the air leave my body. 'No. I want my master.' I felt my throat close, my eyes hazing with red panic.
Lady Dela was beside me in a moment, snatching up my hand. 'Lord Eon, take a deep breath.
Breathe. Just breathe.' Her soft hand cupped my cheek as I struggled to force air past the rigid block in my chest. 'You over there,' she called. 'Help me.'
I heard a voice yelp in protest. The pad of running feet. Then Rilla holding something over my nose and mouth. The Beseecher's paper lantern. It smelled of the discarded wax candle. I gulped like a stranded fish and felt air force its way into my lungs.
'He will be here soon,' Rilla whispered in my ear. 'It will be all right.'
I took a deep, shaking breath and she pulled the paper lantern away.
Lady Dela patted my hand. 'That's right, take deep breaths.' Her shoulders lifted in a deep inhale, showing me the way. 'And out again.' She nodded as I exhaled. 'You are doing very well, my lord.'
She looked around the room. 'You, Ryko,' she said sharply, flicking her fingers at the Shadow Man, 'don't just stand there like a man mountain. Go and get the physician.'
'I am sorry, my lady,' the Shadow Man said, his voice unexpectedly soft and light, 'I cannot leave you unguarded.'
She glared at him. 'I'm hardly going to be attacked here.'
'No, because I am guarding you,' he said patiently
'I'm all right,' I said hoarsely.
Are you sure?' She peered at my face. 'I know how it is to rise from humble beginnings. Such sudden elevation can be...disorientating.' She gave my hand one last pat then let it rest on the silk cover. 'But I'm afraid you will not have much time to adjust to your new position. Now that you have recovered, His Imperial Majesty will expect you to attend this evening's banquet. It will be in your honour. You must bathe and dress. And then I will instruct you on proper court etiquette.'
A banquet with the Emperor? I felt my breath harden again.
Lady Dela looked over at Rilla. 'You seem able,' she said. 'I will send my girl over to assist you with your master's preparations. She'll help you bathe and dress him for court. His Majesty has given Lord Eon permission to draw what he needs from the Imperial stores.'
I pulled the cover up further. Bathed and dressed? I had to find a way to refuse the lady's offer.
Rilla turned to me, wincing as she folded her hands together and bowed.
'My lord, may I speak of your requirements?' she asked me solemnly.
My requirements? I stared at her deferential pose, then realised she was waiting for me to give permission.
'Yes, of course,' I said hurriedly
'Your generosity is greatly appreciated, my lady,' Rilla said. 'I Iowever, only I am able to bathe and dress Lord Eon.' She leaned forwards and whispered loudly, 'My master is Moon Shadow I have been purified and sanctioned to serve him.'
Lady Dela's slim body stiffened with shock. 'Forgive me, my lord, I was not informed,' she said, dropping into a low bow in
front of me. The skin of her unpainted nape was red. 'I humbly apologise for intruding upon your arrangements. I will have your girl shown the stores and baths, and instruct the Imperial staff to enter your rooms only upon your order. When you are ready, send a messenger and I will come to you.'
'Thank you.'
The Shadow Man was watching me, his expression strangely tender. He must think me a brother. I looked away from the undeserved fellowship.
What was I supposed to do now?
Lady Dela was still crouched beside the bed. She lifted her head slightly. 'My lord, may I offer you the first lesson,' she said gently 'You must give permission for those lower in rank to leave your presence.'
'Oh.' Heat prickled across my face. 'Yes, of course. You may go.'
She bowed and gracefully stood, the Shadow Man ducking from the waist in a brief courtesy then taking his position behind her shoulder. Rilla and I watched her leave, dwarfed by the massive guard, the clink of her hair ornaments matching the sway of her walk.
'You may go too,' I said to the Beseecher, trying to sound more lordly. 'Thank you,' I added.
Best not to offend an intermediary of the gods.
He bowed and scuttled out into the passageway, giving Rilla a cold glare as he passed; wax candles were expensive.
'Rilla-,'I said.
She held up her hand for silence as she checked the passage. I heard the fading sounds of retreating steps and murmured conversation. Finally, she closed the door and pressed her back against it, as though stopping it from bursting back open.
We stared at one another for a second.
'Lord Eon?' she said, lifting her eyebrows. This is a deadly path the master has set you on, girl.' She sighed. 'Has set us on.'
'Did you always know the truth about me?' I asked, meeting her steady gaze.
'Perhaps. But it is easier and safer not to know some things too clearly' She walked over to the bed and smiled wryly 'How are you feeling, my lord?'
'My head aches.' I rubbed my temple and felt the lump where Ranne had hit me. 'And all of my skin feels like it is bruised. How did I get undressed?'
'Me.' She held out her burned hands. 'No one else would touch you. Not even the physicians.
The Dragoneyes said it was the Mirror Dragon's power sparking from your skin because you were not properly released from the pearl.'
I looked down at my arms and hands, free of the thick cover. 'I don't think I'm sparking any more. Do you think it might start again?'
Rilla shook her head. 'I'm no expert.'
Neither was I. Was sparking skin a good or a bad sign? I couldn't even tell if the dragon was still with me. I tried to focus inwards, but a new fear was dimming my mind's-eye. What if the dragon was gone? What if he had made a mistake choosing me? I took a deep breath and concentrated again. My mind's-eye slowly found the energy lines of my body. There was something different. A change in my Hua — it was faster, stronger — and an echo of another presence, like a shado
w heartbeat. But it was very faint. I opened my eyes and fell back against the pillows, exhausted.
'I think the sparking has finished. I'm sorry you were hurt, Rilla.'
She shrugged. 'The master used it as an excuse to stop the doctors from poking at you.' She touched my shoulder. 'It's lucky you're slim-hipped and small-breasted. How old are you really?'
'Sixteen.' I hugged my arms around my chest to stop myself from grabbing her sore hands.
'Rilla, what am I going to do?' I felt the panic rise through me like a scalding geyser.
'You are going to be bathed and dressed by your body servant, and then you are going to go out there and be Lord Eon, the new Mirror Dragoneye.'
'How can I be a lord? It was hard ^enough just being a candidate. I can't do it.'
'Yes, you can,' Rilla said, wincing as she grabbed my shoulders. 'Because if you can't, then we are going to die. You, me, the master. They won't let us live if they find out what you really are.'
What you really are — her words brought a lurch of memory. 'Rilla, when you undressed me, did you find a pouch?'
'Calm yourself. I have it.' She patted the pocket of her gown. And your gift from Chart.'
'How long was I senseless?'
'Two days.' She nodded her understanding. 'Don't worry, the master told me about the tea.
You haven't missed a dose — I got a good amount down your throat, although you never fully roused.'
I sighed out my relief. 'Thank you.'
'I'll make today's dose now' She crossed the room to the bureau and poked at the coals in the brazier. Next to her, in the corner, was a small rack holding my ceremonial swords. I flexed my fingers, remembering the strange angry knowledge that had come from their steel.