'No. I low long are we from the village?'
Lady Dela yawned, covering her mouth with her open fan. 'Lord Tyron said we would be there before dusk, so we should be less than two full bells away'
I nodded and closed my eyes, returning to the problem of the Rat Dragon. The grazes on my palms stung with a sharp reminder of his overwhelming power.
The Sun drug had opened me to him, so it must follow that it would open me to the Mirror Dragon too. Both were ascendant, and both connected to me in some way. The Sun drug was the doorway to my union with them, with the added bonus that it augmented the dragons'
power. And surely, if I took enough, it would stifle that remnant of Moon energy left in me.
All I needed was a way to stave off the Rat Dragon so that I could unite with the Mirror Dragon.
The answer was obvious. I sat bolt upright, my eyes dancing with dots from the sudden movement. I would not need to hold back the Rat Dragon during the test. Lord Ido would be in control of his beast; the blue dragon would not be able to flood me with power and block the way of the Mirror Dragon. All I had to do was to make sure my Sun energy was as high as possible: to open me to my dragon, augment his power and finally get rid of the Moon.
Rilla touched my arm. 'My lord?'
'I will take some water after all,' I said, reaching for the drug pouch.
We entered the village just as the soft dusk shadows were darkening into night. The roadside had been staked with long torches and the villagers kneeled between them, chanting celebration prayers and bowing as we sedately made our way towards the town centre. Red flags hung between houses and shops, and every door had a paper character for good harvest tacked onto it. The smoky fat of roasting pork and yeasty fragrance of bread flavoured the nighl air, underlaid with the throat-catching sweetness of intense. The taste and smell of Monsoon Festival.
My driver pulled the horses up at the edge of the large village square bounded by two-storey house-shops. Every window held a red paper lantern and in their combined light I could make out the central stone compassarium: the circular dais where the Dragoneyes would sit at their compass points and work their dragon magic. Lord Ido and the other Dragoneyes were seated at a long banquet table at the far end of the square. There was a vacant seat beside Ido, no doubt waiting for the Co-Ascendant. I suppressed a shiver and stepped out of the carriage.
Lady Dela smiled encouragingly at me from her seat as the driver urged the horses onwards.
Neither she nor Rilla could accompany me — no women were allowed into the central square until after the Dragoneyes had contained the King Monsoon.
I was met by three elderly men dressed in tan cotton tunics worked with simple embroidery Their ceremonial best. They kneeled and bowed, foreheads hovering just above the ground.
'Mirror Dragoneye,' the man in the centre of the delegation said, raising his chin slightly but not daring to meet my eyes, 'I am Elder Hiron. It is my immeasurable honour to welcome you and your dragon to our humble village. What joy that the twelfth dragon returns to us. What joy that he chooses a young Dragoneye with such great power. We offer our deepest gratitude for your sacred intervention on our behalf.'
I cleared my throat. 'Thank you. When is the King Monsoon due?'
The man on the right raised his head. 'Our weather-watchers predict tomorrow afternoon, lord.'
Good; that gave me time to take at least another two doses of the Sun drug.
'My lord, please, we invite you to the banquet table for the official welcome.'
With Ryko at my shoulder, I was led past the ranks of kneeling village men honouring the arrival of the lords who saved them from starvation every year. A few shadows at the windows shrank away as I approached: women and children snatching a look at the Mirror Dragoneye. One man in the crowd accidentally met my eye, the awe in his face changing into a flicker of fear. I half expected him to make the ward-evil, but he dropped into a low bow. I was, after all, the mighty Mirror Dragoneye, the bringer of good fortune. I brushed my hand over the dwindling weight of the drug pouch in my pocket — let it be so, I prayed. As if in response, the pearls around my forearm stirred sluggishly Their grip seemed to have slackened over the past few days.
The elders bowed me into my seat beside Lord Ido. He sat at his ease, his dark, muscular presence palpable at a table full of prematurely aged men. Dillon stood behind him, still scowling. Now I understood his unpredictable temper and Lord Ido's sudden rages: we all had the same hot spring of Sun drug bubbling beneath the surface of our skin. Did Dillon know he was being dosed? I should have warned him after I'd found the Sun drug in the library, but my concern had got lost in the sorrow of my master's death. And the anger.
Ryko stepped up behind me, filling the space where my apprentice should have stood. A murmur of greeting rose from the other Dragoneyes. I nodded to Lord Dram, halfway up the table, and Lord Garon across from me. Both Emperor's men and my supporters.
'Lord Eon, we were beginning to think your roadside troubles had prevented you from attending,' Lord Ido said.
I reluctantly turned to him, my skin prickling. His handsome face was all smooth politeness, but his eyes held the night shine of the wolf. How did he know about my collapse? From his dragon? Or just servants' gossip?
'I am here now,' I said. 'Are you suggesting I would run away from the test?' I heard the heat in my voice and dug my fingernails into my thigh, trying to quell the surge of belligerence.
Ido's expression shifted into sharp attention. 'Not at all. I can see that you are all fired up to meet the challenge.' I lis gaze raked over me. All fired up, indeed.'
Lord Tyron sat down in the last vacant chair. 'Finally here,' he said. 'Though I must say, I would rather be in my bed than at a provincial banquet. Let us hope that this year's official welcome is brief
It was not. The Monsoon Festival was the villagers' most important celebration and they were determined to honour us with entertainment and food and celebrate the wondrous return of the Mirror Dragon. All through the carefully rehearsed speeches, story dances and platters of local delicacies, I felt Lord Ido's eyes on me. I curled my hand over the rash on my neck and kept my attention on my plate or the performance in front of me; a rabbit pretending the wolf was not pacing beside it.
Finally, the last speech was heard. Lord Tyron sighed with relief as twelve village men, wide-eyed with the honour of their duty, came to lead us to our beds for the night. The men assigned to me and Lord Ido stepped back as Elder Hiron approached us in a running bow.
'Lord Eon. Lord Ido.' He bobbed to each of us. As is custom, the Ascendant Dragoneye is always quartered in our Dragon House, built by our forefathers in gratitude for the Dragoneye service to our village.' He motioned towards a handsome stone building behind us. 'This year, we wish to honour the ascendancy of both the Mirror Dragon and the Rat Dragon, so we have arranged the house into two separate living areas.' He smiled proudly at the solution. 'I hope it pleases you, my lords.'
Share a house with Ido? My horror must have shown on my face because the elder's smile faltered. Behind me, Ryko edged closer.
'It is an admirable answer to the unusual situation, Elder Hiron,' Lord Ido said and I heard the amusement in his voice. 'Do you not agree, Lord Eon?'
Caught in the quagmire of courtesy and the elder's honour, I nodded.
'Then please, come this way' the old man said happily
Our three guides led us the short distance to the Dragon House. The stone frontage was hung with twelve painted banners depicting the heavenly animals, with the Rat and Dragon banners larger and centred above the doorway The village men bowed us inside. I followed Lord Ido through a stone passageway, Ryko close behind.
'You must not stay here, lord,' he whispered into my ear as we entered a small open courtyard.
In the centre was a tiny garden lit by paper lanterns hung in three carefully tended dwarf trees.
Under their sculpted foliage was a curved bench set beside a pond with the silent, gleaming shapes of three carp in its night depths. To our left and right were doorways, their screens pushed back and showing thick bed pallets. Beyond the garden was another room with closed doors, and a second passageway with a rush mat on the stones that suggested the luxury of an adjoining bathhouse. It was gratitude made solid in stone and wood, built for lords by people who bathed from buckets and slept on straw. Although Ryko was right about the danger, I could not refuse to stay here without grievously humiliating our hosts.
The elder hurried into the courtyard, his eyes anxiously searching our faces for approval.
