down over the folio as she closed the door with her hip. Seeing me sitting up, she bowed and crossed the room.
'They are already gathering at the Gate of Supreme Benevolence for the start of the procession,' she said, her eyes flicking to my sleeve and back to my face. She held the tray out towards me. 'You've just got time for the tea and some lo-jee.'
The salty aroma of the breakfast soup made my stomach roll with want. But first the ghost-maker's tea. I picked up the cup, suddenly remembering the Sun drug in my pocket. Maybe it would force a connection with the Mirror Dragon. But what would happen if I mixed it with the ghost-maker's tea? One drug kindled the Sun, the other suppressed the Moon. Would it tip me too far out of balance? Kill me? Perhaps it was not a good idea to take them both at once. I blew on the tea and took a careful sip.
It was tepid, the dirt taste even worse without the heat. Closing my eyes, I drank it quickly, resisting the urge to gag on the bitterness.
'How is the master today?' I asked, handing back the cup.
'Better,' she said. 'He is dressing for the festivities.' Her eyes flicked to my sleeve again. 'You should get out of those peasant clothes as soon as possible,' she said blandly. 'I will return them to the basket.'
I met her gaze, silently asking the question. She shrugged. 'What I see stays with me.'
'Even from the master?'
Her face tightened, but she nodded. 'I am your body servant now.'
'I am doing everything I can to keep us safe,' I said. Perhaps I was trying to reassure myself as much as Rilla. 'Please believe that.'
She picked up the bowl of lo-jee and passed it to me. 'There is no one else to care for Chart,'
she said softly. 'Please remember that.'
My master shifted irritably on the silk cushion beside me and squinted over the heads of our bearers into the dim passageway ahead. It was still blocked by an ornate gilded gate. His movement sent a sour smell into the warm air and I saw beaded sweat above his cracked lips.
His breath, too, was more laboured than normal. Although the heavy red canopy of our palanquin trapped the morning heat inside the cabin, it was not hot enough to cause such distress. Rilla may have pronounced the master improved, but I was not convinced he had made any progress.
I leaned out to look at the other Dragoneyes lined up behind us in matching red and gold palanquins, and behind them the long formations of men on foot, waiting for the gongs that would open the gate and announce the start of the procession. In the next palanquin, Lord Ido met my gaze. He gave one slow nod. I pulled back, my heart quickening.
Slowly I worked my fingers inside the wide sleeve of my Dragoneye robe, checking the placement of the folio against my forearm. After Rilla had dressed me, I'd tried to unwind the pearls and find a place to hide the book, but there was nowhere secure and the pearls would not loosen their grip. It was both troubling and reassuring. My only option was to carry the folio with me and, strangely, I felt stronger and more capable with it touching my skin. My fingers brushed the edge of the leather. I had thought to place it higher, but the pearls had settled it under a panel of stiff embroidery that camouflaged their bulk.
I flinched as a servant dropped to his knees beside me, the top of his head just reaching the base of the cabin. He held up a tall porcelain cup. The fresh tang of limes penetrated the fug of heat and sweat.
'With the compliments of Lord Tyron,' the servant said. On the other side of the palanquin another servant was offering my master a matching cup.
'I had forgotten how long it takes for one of these processions to start,' my master said, sipping the drink. 'Thank the gods for Tyron's foresight.' His mouth puckered. 'The limes seem to be somewhat bitter this year.'
I let the sweet-sour juice rest in my dry mouth before swallowing. I found it tart, but not bitter. I looked across at my master tentatively sipping his drink. Perhaps it was time to ask for his help. I could not tell him everything yet, but if I copied out a few of the folio's strange characters and showed them to him, he may know their origin. I gulped at the remainder of the cool juice, pleased with the plan, and returned the cup to the servant. My master only took a few more mouthfuls before handing it back to the man kneeling beside him.
'Send our thanks to Lord Tyron,' my master ordered.
The servant nodded and backed away.
'I think I see the gate officials approaching,' my master said. 'We will be entering soon.' He settled back in the seat, his high
collar shifting to reveal the blue crescent of a bruise on his pallid skin. 'It is interesting that the Emperor positions us first, ahead of Ido.' There was gentle malice in his voice.
'Did Lord Ido ride in with High Lord Sethon this morning?' I asked.
My master flipped open his fan and started up a warm breeze. 'He did — but just through the city gates. A bold declaration of allegiance for those who recognise the signs. But he cannot ride with Sethon in the military procession. He must sit with us below the Emperor.'
'It is getting closer, isn't it?' I said, lowering my voice. 'They will make their attempt soon.'
My master nodded. 'Yes, the game moves into a most interesting phase.'
Although I could not see through the velvet curtain at our backs, I fancied I could feel Lord Ido's baleful gaze from the palanquin behind. No doubt he knew the red folio and Sun drug were gone — he would have returned to his hall to dress for the procession and found the evidence. I pushed away the memory of Ranne's blank eyes. And Lord Ido would have a good idea who had taken them, too. I just hoped Dillon had escaped his attention.
An image of the black folio, lying beside its red partner in the glass case, shivered across my mind. What was it about the black book that made me so afraid? Perhaps my master knew something about it. But I would need to creep up on my question.
'Lord Brannon,' I said, calling his attention away from the gate. 'Have you ever seen a design of twelve spheres connected in a circle?' I traced a circle on my palm. 'With the top two spheres bigger.'
His fan dropped to his lap. 'Where have you seen that?' he demanded, grabbing my wrist.
'Where? Tell me.'
I pulled back from the alarm in his eyes. 'I haven't seen it,' I said, frantically searching for a solid lie. 'Dillon told me he saw it on the door of Lord Ido's library.'
He let me go. 'His apprentice saw it on a door?'
I nodded. 'What does it mean?'
He looked around us then leaned closer. 'It is the symbol of the String of Pearls.'
I shook my head, still ignorant. He opened the fan again and waved it slowly in front of us, using its wide spread to mask our conversation.
'The String of Pearls is said to be a weapon so powerful, it can shift continents,' he said softly.
'It joins the energy of all twelve dragons into one devastating force.' He licked his pale lips.
'But it is only a legend, a children's ghost story'
'So it is not real?'?
He shook his head. 'For a long time, I have been collecting scrolls that mention it, and I have not come across any that confirm it as more than a story I know that Ido also collects stories of it. Perhaps he has found one that proves it is possible.'
A black folio, stamped with the circle and protected by white pearls — there could be no doubt that Lord Ido had found something more than just a story. I could not keep this hidden from my master.
'Dillon also said he saw a black folio with the same design,' I said carefully 'Bound with white pearls.'
A folio?' My master sucked in a breath. Are you sure he said that?'
'I think so.'
He rubbed his chin. 'I don't like this at all. Tyron and the others must be informed as soon as possible.'
'How does this String of Pearls work?'
My master shook his head. 'No one really knows. There are so many conflicting legends. One says it is by all twelve Dragoneyes joining together to create the weapon. Another states that two Dragoneyes must join forces for it to form. And then there are others that say there can only be one surviving Dragoneye who inherits all the power.'
Tellon told us about that one yesterday in our class.'
He grunted, his mind elsewhere. 'It may be nothing; just one of Ido's obsessions. Still, Tyron and the others
