Maybe I should let it go. Let the water carry Kinra’s treachery away from me. I could close one of her doorways to this earthly plane forever.
Yet, she was my history. My legacy. A link to my family.
The plaque slid into a widening breach.
I wrenched off both sandals, then ripped at the drawstring around my skirt and kicked it off. I plunged into the water, the slap of cold against my shins, knees, thighs forcing my breath out in high gasps. My shift and tunic wrapped around me in a wet weight, the ends of my silk sash flicking and darting from my waist like red carp. The plaque slipped, then caught against the collapsing dam. I waded toward it, the current pressing against my legs. Rocks below shifted under my weight, jarring my ankle bones and scraping at my skin.
The remnants of the tiny dam loosened into a swirling mess of twigs and sediment. The plaque disappeared, then bobbed up. I clutched at it, but only scooped water, the force sending the plaque down again. Had I lost it? Hands ready, I focused fiercely on the dizzying surface. The plaque shot up an arm’s length away. I pounced. As my fingers closed around the memorial, my feet slipped and both knees slammed against the rocky bed. Another shock of water soaked me up to my chest. But I was holding the plaque.
Shakily, I found my footing. My pursuit had brought me level with the horses’ watering place. I clambered onto the bank, my shift and tunic dripping water down my bruised legs. Cold mud oozed between my toes.
I wiped a smear of silt from the plaque. Kinra was a part of me; casting aside her death plaque would not change my heritage. Nor would it change the burden of her treachery. I ran my hand over my drenched sash and found the pouch — Charra’s plaque was safe, too. Sighing my relief, I pulled the dripping bag free, shook off the water, and slotted Kinra’s memorial back inside.
“Eona?”
I spun around. Dela stood at the tree line.
“Are you all right?”
“Fine.” I softened the curtness with a quick wave and limped over to my abandoned skirt and sandals.
“His Majesty wants us to assemble. We will be leaving soon.” Dela made her way across the damp ground, picking up her feet as though she wore silk slippers instead of sturdy merchant sandals. She clicked her tongue. “You’re soaked.”
We both turned at the sounds of approach. Vida emerged from the forest a few lengths away, pausing as she met our scrutiny. Even from where we stood, I could see her eyes were red from crying.
“Vida,” Dela said. “Do we have dry clothes for Lady Eona?”
“We only have what we’re wearing,” Vida said.
“Swap with her then, until hers are dry.”
Vida’s jaw shifted.
“No,” I cut in. “We don’t have to do that. They’ll dry soon enough.” It was not true — nothing dried quickly in these humid monsoon days — but I did not want to add to Vida’s resentment.
Dela waved aside my protest. “You can’t ride behind the emperor in wet clothes. He may get damp.”
There was no counter to that argument. I soon stood in Vida’s gown while she struggled to pull on the waterlogged layers of my skirt, undershift and tunic.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered.
She shot me a dark look.
I tugged at the gaping neckline of the maid’s dress. On Vida, it had sat modestly over her curves. On me, it plunged too low, and the wide cut emphasized the jut of my collarbones. I yanked it up again, bunching the loose cloth at the waist in my other hand.
“Here, let me help.” Dela wrapped the rough-spun sash around me. “This will keep it up.”
She tucked and tied until everything was covered, although the neckline was still too low. I pressed my hands over the pale skin of my chest; it was not only my collarbones that were emphasized.
Vida bent and picked up the pouch from the ground. “My lady, do not forget this,” she said, handing it to me.
I was fairly sure that Kinra’s death plaque was not as dangerous as her swords, but I still did not want to carry it. “Lady Dela, will you keep this for me?” I held out the pouch. “With the journal?”
Dela eyed the offered bag. “Vida, return to the others,” she said, the dismissal firm. “Tell His Majesty that we are soon behind you.”
Vida cast her a curious glance, but headed back toward the forest. As soon as she was gone from sight, Dela reached across, but her hand grasped my wrist instead of the pouch. “What is going on, Eona?”
I pulled back, but she held fast.
“You will not carry the journal, your swords, or your compass,” she said, “and now you want me to take your ancestors’ death plaques. Something is wrong.”
I bit down on my lip. I should have remembered Dela’s keen eyes; after all, she had survived the imperial court through quick wits and insight. I had no doubt she wanted to help me— Dela always wanted to help. Yet telling her about Kinra would be just the same as telling Ryko, and he would go straight to the emperor.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I said. “Nothing is wrong.” Another jerk of my wrist freed me from her grasp. “His Majesty awaits us.”
I pushed the pouch into the deep pocket of Vida’s gown. I would be rid of the ill-fitting dress soon, and with it, Kinra’s plaque.
I arrived at the clearing ahead of Dela. She had dropped a few lengths behind me — the distance, no doubt, a silent rebuke for refusing her help. While we had been gone, the camp had been packed away and the horses saddled. The only signs of our occupation were tamped-down grass and a patch of soft muddy ground around the trees where the horses were tied.
The emperor was waiting. He stood with his arms crossed, the rest of our troop kneeling in a loose semicircle before him.
“Lady Eona.” Kygo waved me to his side.
Had he already told them I was his
They did not know yet.
Kygo’s eyes flicked over my body. “You are unhurt?”
“Yes.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Thank you,” I added awkwardly.
Dela’s arrival turned his attention from me. The Contraire sank into a low court bow, murmuring apologies. She dropped to her knees beside Ryko as I joined the emperor. With a small nod, he indicated that I should stand behind him, at his left shoulder.
“Traditional position,” he murmured close to my ear. “You guard my weakest side.” The warmth of his breath raised an answering flush in my cheeks.
None of the six tired faces before me seemed to have registered the symbolism of where I stood. But then, why should they? The old emperor had never appointed a
Ryko’s gaze was still squarely on me, his jaw set. No forgiveness there. Solly was expectant, his ugly face red and shiny from the heat. Vida was smoothing the wet tunic over her thighs, her attention on Kygo. Captain Yuso was his usual watchful self. Next to him, Tiron was excited, but doing his best to copy his superior’s calm confidence. I caught Dela’s quick sideways glance at Ryko; she was worried about the islander. But then, so was I.
“Ever since the palace was taken,” Kygo said, “we have been reacting to my uncle’s strategies. Now it is time for us to act.”
Yuso nodded approvingly.
“You will have noticed the change in the rains and winds,” Kygo continued. “Without the full circle of dragons and their Dragoneyes, our land is not protected from the whims of the weather demons or the angers of the earth.” He glanced back at me. “Nor can Lady Eona control any earth forces by herself. She has no training and, at present, cannot use her power.”
Although his voice was dispassionate, the stark announcement of my failure sent shame through me. I dared not look around the circle; I could feel their disillusion like a thousand pin pricks on my skin.
