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.
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?
