'We have to hide the body' Ryko said, wiping one of the knives on the grass. 'In the pavilion.'
I shivered at his words; how quickly a person became just a body. Ranne had bullied me at the school and nearly killed me during the ceremony. Perhaps I should be rejoicing at the death of my enemy. But I couldn't. A man had died and another had killed to protect me.
A few moments ago, I had been fighting just for my own survival. Now there was no standing back from this larger struggle. I was at its centre.
'No,' I said flatly. I knew where the body had to go. 'Carry him to the edge of the dragon power and I'll pull him into it. They'll think it was an accident, and won't be able to retrieve him until Ido returns.'
Ryko stared up at me then pressed his fist to his chest — a soldier's salute. At your command, my lord.'
It did not take long to drag Ranne's body onto the path. I kept my eyes away from his blank stare and swallowed my gorge as my hand brushed against his cooling face. His life warmth was already fading into the chill of the grave. As I stood up from arranging his lax limbs into the position of a fall, I wondered if anyone would observe the nine days of mourning for him.
Ryko hissed at me from the edge of the dragon power. 'Come.'
We cut across the garden towards the dark archway. The pressure of the pearl binding around my forearm was like a sweet torture — my impatience to open the folio barely held in check by the need to wait until I was in the safe seclusion of my bedchamber.
The inner courtyard was empty when we peered around the corner of the passage. No servant girl stealing a mouthful. No guards with their torches. No Dillon. He was probably hiding somewhere — the Sun drug seemed to be rousing his fear and melancholy more than his fighting spirit.
I crept across the courtyard under the cover of the cumquats and down the alley, Ryko close and silent behind me. As we cleared the side gate, pulling it shut with a soft scrape, I felt eyes upon me. I looked up. Dillon stood on the guard walkway above us. He held up a hesitant hand.
'Thank you,' I mouthed.
He nodded and turned away.
CHAPTER 13
When Ryko and I finally stepped onto the pebble garden around my apartments, I was relieved to see only the two corner night lamps burning, their lights protecting the building from dark spirits. A good sign that no alarm had been raised at my empty bed. We picked our way over the stones towards the pale rectangle of my chamber window. The folio was still bound tightly against my forearm, the pearls warm against my skin as though they held their own Hua.
Soon I'd be reading the word that would release my power. I had always imagined the name of a dragon would be like the shift of a breeze through leaves, or perhaps the sound of water splashing. But how could that be written?
'Shall I stay, lord?' Ryko asked softly
I shook my head. Except for essential information, we had not spoken at all on the run back to the palace. The past few hours had stripped away some of our illusions about each other and ourselves. Such bare truth was not easily absorbed. And I wanted to be alone when I read the name.
'Thank you, Ryko,' I said. 'For everything.'
He bowed and moved away, only a muffled chink of a pebble marking his careful retreat.
I hoisted myself up over the window frame and dropped awkwardly onto the thick carpet inside. In a few strides I was beside the covered oil lamp I'd left burning on the bedside table.
I pushed up my right sleeve. The cloth snagged on the pearls and folio. Hissing with impatience I worked the garment over them, my hand shaking with the delay Finally, the folio was free. In the lamp's soft glow, the surface of the black pearls swirled with greens and purples like the sheen of oil on water. Underneath them, the red leather had the supple shine of a seal's skin, its smoothness marred by the three deep gouges that raked down the front piece. Holding my breath, I gently lifted the end pearl. There was a small resistance, as though it was weighted, and then it came away from my forearm. One by one each pearl gave up its position, loosening its hold on the folio. I breathed out as I lifted the last pearl that held the text to me. The folio dropped into my hand. In a clicking slither, the pearls coiled loosely around my wrist.
I stroked the gouges on the leather, feeling the rough edges of someone else's failure. Lord Ido's? I let a small laugh escape; the pearls had unbound the folio for me but not for the all-powerful Rat Dragoneye. A leather tongue was threaded through a loop, holding the folio closed. With fingers made clumsy from excitement, I tried to unfasten it, but could not work the leather through the hole. Perhaps I had laughed too soon. I rubbed the damp tips of my fingers down my tunic and tried again. At last, the tongue came free. I flipped the leather front open, expecting loose pieces of parchment. Instead, there was a thick wad of smooth master-made paper sewn together at the left edge. A book! I had seen another like it in my master's library — a rarity that he had valued highly I slid my fingers under the tablet of paper and lifted, only to find that the stitching had been sewn through the leather case too. It was all one piece. I settled the wad back against its leather bed. On the front paper was a chawing of the Mirror Dragon in red ink. It was just a few swirling lines, but somehow it caught the power and majesty of the beast. This was the precious book of the Mirror Dragon secrets. Somewhere inside was his name. Somewhere inside was my power. I took a deep breath and turned the page over.
For a moment I could not make sense of the neat characters. I blinked, squinting down at the writing. It still did not make sense. I turned another page. Lines and lines of strange marks.
Another page, and another. All unreadable. I flipped over every page, scanning for just one familiar symbol. Just one.
I reached the final page. 'No,' I breathed. 'No.'
There was nothing I recognised.
I started at the beginning again, staring down at the paper as if I could draw meaning out of the faded lettering.
Nothing.
Despair howled in my head like a typhoon. Blindly, I felt for the bed behind me and sank down onto it, my legs too weak to hold me. Why couldn't I read it? A sob burned through my chest in a heaving moan. Then another, grabbing at the last of my breath, leaving me gulping for air. I couldn't stop them. All the disappointment and fear spilled out of me. What if Rilla heard? Or the master? I doubled over and pushed my knuckles into my mouth, muffling my desolation. Maybe I was not meant to be here. Maybe it had all been a mistake and the Mirror Dragon did not want me, after all. I fell back, curling around the folio, rocking into each ragged whimper.
I had no dragon name, no true power. No hope.
I woke with a gasp, my mouth parched and the skin around my eyes tight with dried tears. A silk sheet covered me. Across the room, the window was shuttered, the edge of each slat bright with daylight. Rilla must have come in while I was asleep. I pushed back the sheet and saw the folio wedged under my chest. Still open. Still unreadable. No miracle had transformed the writing
during the night. I pulled the book out from beneath me and closed it, working the tongue back through the loop. Immediately, the black pearls uncoiled from my wrist in a soft sliding rattle and looped over the leather, pulling it back against the underside of my arm. With a neat flick of the last pearl, they settled. Why were they tying the folio to me? I couldn't even read it.
The dark despair rose up again, closing around my mind like a cold fog.
No! I shook my head, as if I could physically dislodge its hold. I had the folio, and its guardian pearls had unravelled and let me open it. That must mean something. There must be a way to unlock its words. All I had to do was find the key.
I struggled upright. Beside me on the bedside table was a water jug and cup. Rilla had thought of everything. She must have seen the folio and the pearls when she covered me — had she told the master? I poured a drink, gulping it down without pause. Another two cupfuls finally quenched my dryness. All those tears must have wrung the water from my very soul.
The sound of the door opening made me look around. It was Rilla, carrying a tray I quickly pulled my sleeve
