that led to the Dragon Arena. It was just past dawn but the street was already lined with curious onlookers, the house-shop shutters open and the vendors hawking for business. A man noticed our palanquin and yelled, his call rippling along the street until we became the focus of attention. Faces turned up to watch us pass by: excited, sceptical, searching, disdainful. Then a murmur started, the soft words shifting through the crowd like leaves shivering in a breeze: it's the cripple.
I straightened in the seat, my hands in tight fists, and kept my eyes fixed on the banners that billowed above the entrance to the arena. Every so often, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the familiar jab of a ward-evil gesture.
'Does your leg pain you?' my master suddenly asked. In the four years I'd been in his service, he had never asked me about my leg.
'Not a lot,' I said, stumbling over the lie.
He gave a curt nod, his face even more unreadable. 'But it has proved useful.'
The lead bearer called to his team and we stopped outside the gated entrance of the arena. A huge gilded carving of the Mirror
Dragon — the Emperor's symbol — swirled across the lintel. On either side, the heavy supporting pillars were decorated with two ferocious door gods, their carved sword hands rubbed flat by years of people seeking protection. I peered through the crisscrossed slats of the heavy gate, but only saw a dim corridor and the bright flare of sand.
The lead bearer looked back at my master for instructions.
'Follow the wall until we come to the Portal of the Twelve Heavenly Animals,' my master said, pointing to the left.
We moved slowly around the periphery of the arena, passing the bright jade and gold Emperor's Gate through which the Eternal Son of Heaven would make his entrance. The grand boulevard that spanned the distance from gate to the outer precinct of the Imperial Palace was already lined with people, most holding handmade red flags for the new Ascendant and apprentice. Last Ascension Day I stood in that crowd and watched as Amon, the new Pig Dragon apprentice, was showered with flags of good fortune on his way to the Dragon Hall. Would I be walking behind the Emperor's horse in a few hours, a rain of red paper falling on my head?
'Sit still, Eon,' my master ordered.
I leaned back into the seat, turning away from the staring crowd that was collecting around the Emperor's Gate. Ahead, an open palanquin was waiting outside the Portal of the Twelve Heavenly Animals. We stopped a little way behind it and I recognised the delicate shape of Dillon's head and the fat neckless form of Heuris Bellid. Their bearer team slowly lowered the palanquin onto two large lift stones. Dillon climbed out, turning to help his massive master down to the ground. In braver moments, when we were alone, Dillon called him Master Belly I stifled a smile as Bellid adjusted the red pleated sash over his huge gut then waved the palanquin away.
Two gate officials stepped out from the small guardhouse. They were both of similar height and stiff bearing, but one wore
the white robes of mourning to symbolise the waning year, while the other was dressed in shimmering green for the New Year.
'The man in the New Year robes is one of Ido's supporters,' my master said softly. 'He will be a good gauge of how things stand in the Council.'
The officials bowed to Bellid and Dillon, who returned the courtesy. I could not hear the words passed between them, but Bellid gave a carved box to New Year. I glanced down at the casket on my master's knee. Inside was the traditional tribute for the old Dragoneye who was about to make way for his apprentice. Each Heuris paid for the honour of presenting his candidate, softening the blow of lost earnings for the departing lord. But this time there was no old Dragoneye — he had died many years ago, leaving his then-young apprentice, Ido, to serve the Rat Dragon. Who, then, would get the tributes? Lord Ido? I looked at my master's taut face. No wonder he looked pained.
New Year opened Bellid's offering and studied the contents. They must have been adequate for the box was closed and taken away by a guard. Bowing again, the two officials stepped back. Heuris Bellid and Dillon walked through the circular gateway to muted cheers from the crowd.
'Forwards,' my master ordered.
We moved into position in front of the Portal of the Twelve Heavenly Animals. I had always thought it was the most beautiful gate in the city — even more graceful than the huge Gate of Supreme Benevolence, the entrance to the Imperial Palace. The portal was a complete circle and the wood artist had carved the twelve dragon animals around it in order of the cycle of ascension: Rat, Ox, Tiger, Rabbit, Dragon, Snake, Horse, Goat, Monkey, Rooster, Dog and Pig. The Imperial engineers had set the huge carved circle on a system of pulleys and locks so that on the first day of the New Year, Ascension Day, it could be rotated one position, moving the new dragon of ascension to the top of the gateway. The Pig Dragon was still in supremacy, but as
soon as the Rat Dragon chose his new apprentice, the two gate officials would turn the circle to indicate the beginning of the New Year. And the start of a new twelve-year cycle. A most auspicious day Nearby, one of the hawker stalls was already baking cinnamon moon-cakes for the first-day celebrations, the smell creating a phantom mouthful of buttery spice on my tongue. My stomach tightened. I should have eaten the bread.
The bearers lowered our palanquin smoothly onto the lift stones. I quickly climbed out of the cabin, glad to be on the ground again, and handed my master down.
'Wait for my summons after the ceremony' he said, dismissing the team.
Old Year and New Year bowed to us in perfect unison.
'Do you bring one of the twelve who seek to serve the Rat Dragon?' New Year said. His eyes flicked over to me, the glance stinging with hostility. Behind us, the murmuring crowd quietened. I felt as though a thousand disapproving eyes were upon me. A Dragoneye was their only way to buy themselves some good fortune; why was a boy of such obvious ill fortune offering himself as a candidate?
My master and I bowed.
'I, Heuris Brannon, bring one who seeks to serve the Rat Dragon,' my master said.
'Then present your tribute to the Dragoneye who has served. Who now makes way for the new Dragoneye and the new apprentice,' Old Year said. At least his gaze was neutral.
My master opened the lid of the inlaid box. A heavy gold amulet, worked in the shape of a coiled dragon, lay on smooth black velvet. I sucked in a breath. It had to be worth a fortune; enough to keep the household for months. How did my master manage such a gift? He stared at it for a moment then straightened his shoulders.
'I present this tribute to the Dragoneye who makes way for the new; may his strength be restored and his life be long.'
He passed the box to New Year, who shot a strange, challenging look at his colleague. Old Year frowned and shook his head slightly.
New Year snapped the box shut. 'It is acceptable,' he said curtly, passing it to the guard. 'Go through.'
The two officials bowed and stepped back.
'Thank you,' my master said drily.
We walked slowly through the gate and into a long dim passageway Behind us, a huge cheer erupted. For me? I looked back, my heart lifting with the sound. But the gate officials were greeting Heuris Kane and Baret, the crowd favourite. No cheers, then, for the cripple.
Another of Ido's minions,' my master said, following my gaze to Kane. 'But do not fret, Eon.
Ido may be able to bully and buy a following, but even he cannot influence a dragon. And it would seem that his supporters are not inclined to stand against the Council. At least for now.
We shall see what happens when he ascends.'
The passageway sloped downwards, the stone walls chilling the air. Although I wore thin silk, an oily sweat was collecting under my arms and around the waistband of my trousers. My heat had raised the smell of the cleansing herbs again and I longed to scrub off the relentless perfume. Ahead, a half circle of light flickered with passing figures.
We walked out of the cool tunnel into a long chamber lit by lamps fixed along the walls. The smell of sweat and burning sesame oil cloyed the air, and a tense silence amplified the shuffling footsteps of grey-robed officials as they crossed the stone floor. At the far end of the room, the other candidates were kneeling in meditation, their
