rippled in the sunlight like watered silk, then folded back against his body. The heavy head swung around to face us again, the mirror showing the solid line of his spine and the thick fall of white mane. Although his eyes were no longer reflected, I knew he was studying us, choosing his apprentice.
The sand in front of the mirror stirred as the dragon stepped forwards. Beside me, Quon braced himself, his breath quickening. Lanell whispered a hurried prayer. I tried to swallow but I was so parched it caught in my throat like dry bread. The swish of a giant snake track appeared in the sand as the dragon moved closer, the graceful sway of his tail mesmerising in the
mirror. Inside me, something was beginning to build like slow bubbles breaking the surface of near boiled water. Was it the dragon's power? I looked down the line of candidates. Some had broken rank and stepped back; Baret was edging away, but Dillon held his place. The heavy indents of the dragon's claws were visible in the sand as he approached. In the mirror, his head was moving back and forth like a dog sniffing the air. He turned to Baret.
Energy was thrumming through my body. I narrowed my eyes, groping for my mind-sight; perhaps if I showed him my power, he would come. The dull thud in my head built into unbearable pressure. The dragon shimmered into being for me and I felt him dragging energy from my body His head jerked around, a thick blue tongue licking out, tasting the power. He paced a few steps, then backtracked as if undecided. I gritted my teeth, trying to hold him in my sight, but the drain was too great. The dragon disappeared from my view, the sudden wrench of the connection making me sway.
The crowd's excitement finally found voice, cutting through the loud drums and trumpets in shrill calls. I looked up at the mirror. Had it been enough? The dragon lifted a claw and raked at the air, then with a few flicks of his tail he was upon me. In the reflection, his huge face bent down to mine, but I couldn't see him, only feel his hot breath on my cheek. It smelled of vanilla and orange. Was he choosing me? I tried to merge into my mind-sight again but my head was too full of pain and pounding power. Sand sprayed into an arc, whipping me across the face. Quon covered his eyes, crouching as the unseen bulk of the beast passed between us.
I felt the heavy tail brush my leg, a sliding touch of hard muscle. I looked wildly from the shifting sand to the reflection of the dragon as he reared up behind me, the heat of his body pressing against mine. Was I chosen? I saw Lord Ido start towards me. His eyes were no longer wide and blank; they were narrowed in fury. I Ic must have seen me call the beast.
The dragon suddenly swung around to face the Emperor above the dark mirror. He cocked his head to one side then screamed, the sound like the shriek of a hunting eagle but a hundred times louder. It pushed me down to my knees. I dropped my swords, pressing my hands against my ears, but the scream was in my head, shattering my senses. A surge of energy knocked me sideways. And then the heat at my back was gone. Struggling to lift my head, I watched the whirl of sand move down the line. He was leaving me. The mirror showed him in front of Baret and Dillon. Screaming again, the beast lunged at Dillon, circling him in a gritty tornado, his huge tail catching Baret in the chest, flicking him to the ground. The closest candidates scattered. Quon grabbed the sleeve of my tunic and pulled me backwards. I ripped myself free of his grasp; I had to stay close in case the dragon came back for me.
For a moment, Dillon's slight figure was hidden in the centre of the churning sand, then the funnel burst upwards like an exploding volcano, falling in a stinging rain on me and the other candidates. Only Dillon was untouched. He stood with his head back, his face a pale O of astonishment. I turned to the mirror. He was staring into the eyes of the dragon, the beast's body curled like a crescent moon over him. The dragon bent closer, his muzzle a finger-length from Dillon's face. The huge head slowly lifted to expose the shimmering pearl hidden under chin and beard. Dillon reached up and placed his hands around the sphere. A pale blue flame surged from it, the connection between beast and boy sparking in a rush of silver Hua that brought the dragon into shimmering solidity With a gasp, the crowd shifted their attention from the mirror to the two glowing figures on the sand. The dragon's colour was lost in t he sheen of energy but Dillon's red tunic stood out like a splash of blood against the huge chest.
The beast closed his eyes and called, the resonating cry holding a lonely question.
Dillon threw back his head, the soft round of his child face suddenly lengthening into sharper lines. 'Yes, I hear you,' he yelled as if answering the dragon's call. 'I am Dillon. I hear you.'
The beast shrieked again, this time in triumph, the climbing descant piercing the crowd's roar.
I was pushed sideways as Lord Ido brushed past me. 'Get back,' he ordered, jerking his head to the other candidates clustered beside the mirror. 'You're in the way'
He strode across the sand and stopped in front of the dragon and boy locked in their union. I picked up my swords and backed away although each step felt like I was tearing something in me. Lord Ido bowed low to the dragon. Then, bracing his feet in the sand, he pulled Dillon away from the pearl. Silver power crackled through the boy into the man, snapping the Dragoneye's head back. The beast's howl mingled with Dillon's scream of loss. Then the dragon winked out of sight as Lord Ido caught Dillon's limp body, holding him up to face the audience. I looked back at the mirror. The Rat Dragon was gone.
Lord Ido motioned to the Imperial herald. They ran over and formed the octagon, their gong drawing the crowd's attention.
'Witness the choice,' the herald called. 'Witness Dillon, the new Rat Dragoneye apprentice.'
As one, the crowd came to their feet chanting 'Dillon'.
He stirred and turned his face towards their exultation, his own joy giving him the strength to stand. His bones were stark, as though he had aged five years. Lord Ido held up Dillon's hand in his own, circling with his new apprentice in victorious acknowledgement.
In that moment, hate flared through me like a sudden fever, burning everything soft in its path. The swords in my hands stirred with it, answering the fire. And then, just as fast, the hate froze into a vast emptiness that ached through me. I looked across at Quon and Lanell and saw the same dark desolation on their faces.
We had failed.
I had failed.
Quon started to sob, the crowd's cheers drowning the sound.
A hand gripped my shoulder.
'Eon, come this way' a voice said close to my ear. Van, his thin face soft with sympathy.
The rest of the candidates were being ushered around the edge of the arena by officials. I looked back at Dillon. Why was he chosen? The Rat Dragon had come to me first. Why had the beast turned away? Perhaps it had always been true: no dragon would choose a cripple.
My master had gambled and lost. I looked up into the stands. He was not hard to find — the only figure left sitting in the Heuris seats. Alone and unmoving. Part of me wanted to run now, out of the arena and away from his despair. Away from his fists and lingering touches. I felt for the weight of the hidden coin. It was still there, pulling at the hem. But even if I tried to flee, I would not get far. I could barely push through my exhaustion to stay upright, let alone run.
I slowly followed Van across the sand to where the other failed candidates waited. They were all silently watching the flurry of activity around Dillon: the herald urging the crowd to louder cheers, two columns of musicians behind them playing a soaring triumphal. Another official pulled me into the straggling line of candidates. Quon lurched into me, his face tear-streaked and white with strain. We moved forwards. Ahead someone stumbled and was manhandled back into place. I heard a clipped command and felt Van move into step beside me, watching.
'Let me take your swords,' he finally said.
I had forgotten I was holding them, their weight just part of the terrible fatigue that dragged at me. It was an effort to hold the blades up to him, an even greater effort to release the grips.
'We're almost there,' Van said.
'Where?' I licked my lips. Were v/e going for water?
'You must bow to the Emperor.'
I looked at him, turning over his words for meaning. Bow. To the Emperor.
'Then water?'
He nodded. 'Not long now.'
We stopped back under the dark mirror where we had first waited. I looked up; the Emperor was watching the celebrations in the centre of the arena, he had no interest in us. A distracted official pushed Hannon forwards,
