As I stepped out onto a broad natural ledge of stone, the silver-haired man moved forward, but my attention was caught by the sight below me — a huge bowl of a crater, its floor studded with flickers of firelight that cast a glow on multitudes of tents and rough-builds. Along the steep sides, more campfires lit the shapes of caves. Gathered below the ledge were the shifting figures of hundreds and hundreds of people watching our arrival. I had not given much thought to what the resistance would look like, but I knew that I had not expected such a large camp.
“Lady Eona?” the silver-haired man said, in obviously a second or third attempt.
“I am sorry. It is so …” I finally looked at him and faltered. The gray in his hair was not from age; he could be no more than twenty-five. Perhaps it was from the burden of command or the effect of some great tragedy. There was certainly a hint of melancholy in his intelligent face.
He smiled. “Yes, it is breathtaking. A natural fortress.” He bowed. “I am Viktor, leader of the Chikara Mountain Resistance.” He gestured to his companion. “This is my lieutenant, Sanni. We are relieved to have found you, my lady. And you, Captain Yuso.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Where is His Majesty?”
“In our main cave, my lady. The Beseechers have been praying since he arrived, but we have been waiting for your arrival to physick him.”
“Waiting for me?” Ryko must have told them about the fisher village. Guilt and shame prickled across my scalp. They were waiting for me, the mighty Dragoneye, to heal the emperor. But I could not risk it again; I did not want to kill any more innocent people. And I certainly did not want power over the emperor’s will.
“I cannot heal him,” I said. “You must understand; I cannot heal him.”
“No, of course not, my lady. We do not expect you to have a physician’s skill,” Viktor said, frowning. “The girl Vida told us that you are now His Majesty’s
“Yes, it is true.”
“Then you are the only one who can touch his sacred body. Our physician must work through you.”
I bit my lip. They only wanted me to help examine him. I could do that.
“Let us go to him, then,” I said.
Viktor ushered me toward steps cut into the steep slope. “My men have already trespassed upon His Majesty’s sanctity by carrying him back here. They are good, dutiful men, my lady, and their deaths would serve no purpose. I beg you to pardon them.”
His words sent a twinge of unease through me. The rank of
He ducked his head. “Thank you, my lady.”
Every part of me wanted to run to the cave and help Kygo, but the press of cheering people that lined the pathway around the crater limited us to a quick walk. At first I moved away from the excited, wondering faces and the hands that reached out to touch me. They had never seen a Dragoneye in the flesh, let alone a female Dragoneye. Yuso tried to insert his body between me and their reaching need, his rough warnings lost in the chant of my name. Then a deep voice rose above the others. “Let the gods protect Lady Eona. Let the gods protect His Majesty.” I found the caller across the sea of heads — a middleaged man with tears in his eyes — and I finally understood.
I was their symbol of hope, their guarantee that the gods had not abandoned them. Although I was not worthy of such reverence or faith, I had to be what they needed. “Stand back,” I told Yuso. Reluctantly, he stepped behind me. I straightened my shoulders and walked on, brushing my fingers across the hands that strained to touch hope and salvation.
We finally reached the main cave. An altar had been built to one side, and two Beseechers kneeled before it, their swinging lanterns throwing patterns on the dark rock face. Two large brass incense burners stood like sentinels on either side of the entrance, their wisps of white smoke spreading the peppery cleanse of clove through the air. The cheers and calls quieted as we passed the altar. I caught sight of a circlet of bloodstones arranged in front of the prayer candles, and a ceremonial sword. The shrine was in honor of Bross, the god of battle. A good choice. As we entered the cave, I sent my own silent plea to the war god for Kygo’s recovery.
I paused for a moment, trying to take in the size of the cavern. It was at least as big as a large hall, but the true dimensions were lost in the dim light, the high, shadowy ceiling, and the sheer number of people milling around. The murmur of anxious voices echoed around the stone walls. Only one area was clear — a far corner partitioned off by a large, five-paneled screen. It was painted in the beautiful Shoko style — Blossom Women on a rich gold background — but large sections had peeled away, and one panel was split. Its ruined opulence was out of place among the plain wooden benches and tables that lined the cave walls. Even without the two guards that stood before it, I would have known that the screen hid the emperor from view. It was a poor people’s offering to their stricken king.
“My lady! Captain Yuso!” I turned to see Vida break away from a group of people clustered around a large brazier. She was clean and clothed in a fresh gown, the long scratches on her face the only outward sign of our ordeal. “Are you all right?” she asked me, bowing low. “I am so glad to see you.”
I caught her hand, the warmth in her voice bringing a sting of tears to my eyes. Behind her, Ryko rose slowly from a bench along the wall. He was also clean and clothed, but he held his body as if nursing broken ribs. Our eyes met just before he bowed. His pain went much deeper than bones and blood.
Vida’s grip tightened. “Have they told you?”
I nodded.
“His Majesty has still not woken?” Yuso asked.
“No,” she said. “And Solly and Lady Dela have not been found. There was so much water, so much mud —”
“It’s all right,” I said, although it was not. “How is Tiron?”
A shadow passed across her face. “In much pain, but he is being well looked after.”
“My lady, this way.” Viktor gestured urgently toward the screen.
I squeezed Vida’s hand. “Yuso is injured,” I said, waving away the captain’s protest. “Look to him. We will speak later.”
I crossed the cave with the resistance leader. Groups of people shifted out of our way to create a pathway to the screen. Soft blessings followed us as we passed, but dread settled over me. I looked down at my hands, suddenly aware that I was grinding my fist into my palm.
The guards saluted as we paused at the edge of the first panel.
“The physician is waiting for you at His Majesty’s bedside, Lady Eona,” Viktor said. “He has been with him for over seven bells. I will stay here and await his report.”
With both fists clenched, I rounded the screen.
An older man slumped on a stool beside a raised pallet immediately looked up. Under his flat physician’s cap, his expression shifted from weariness to relief. “Lady Dragoneye?”
He bowed, but all of my attention was on the still shape beneath the blanket. Although Kygo’s face was smeared with mud, I could see the stark pallor of his skin. His eyes were closed, but there were no flutterings of dream or nightmare. At some point he had bitten through his lower lip; the swelling was still high. The blanket was pulled up around his neck — I could not see any part of the Imperial Pearl or its stitching— but the edge of a dark bruise extended from his jaw line under the woven blanket edge. The rise and fall of his chest was smooth and regular, yet I could not look away from one breath to the next.
The sharp hiss of water on coals broke my stare.
The physician stood over a large brazier, swirling liquid in a pan. “Shall we proceed, my lady?” he said, fresh energy in his voice.
“How is he?”
“From observation, I would say his
“And I have never been a physician’s instrument before,” I said, meeting his anxious smile with my own. “How should we start?’
“I am of the Meridian school, my lady.” Seeing my obvious ignorance, he added, “My diagnosis is through the
