I drained the bowl and handed it back, my eyes not leaving her face.
“What is wrong, Madina?”
She eyed me as if gauging my fortitude. “Two more of your party have been found,” she finally said. “Dela and Solly. They were brought in while you were asleep.”
“Are they alive?” I caught her arm. “Tell me. Is Dela alive?”
“It’s all right, Eona.” Dela’s voice spun me around to face the doorway. “I am here.”
She limped across the room, the lamplight showing dark scrapes and cuts down one side of her face. I caught her out- stretched hands, squeezing them too tight in place of the words that were locked in my chest.
“Eona, you are breaking my hands,” she laughed. Her lips were blistered and flaking, her skin reddened from the sun.
“You’ve hurt your leg,” I finally managed to say, easing my hold.
“I was pinned under a tree, but I’m all right.”
“I’m so glad to see you. I had this awful feeling—”
It was her turn to grip tightly. “Eona, it is not all good news,” she said, her smile gone. “Solly is dead. He drowned. Probably in the first rush of water.”
Her words brought a sharp image of the deluge. I had seen Solly go under. I had seen the water swallow him whole. Did he die at that moment? I shivered, yet all I could find in my heart was a glancing regret. Was I now so used to death that I could not mourn a good man? Solly and I had fought together. I had relied upon his fierce courage and quiet efficiency, been warmed by his gruff kindness. He had been stoic and loyal and deserving of my grief. Yet I was dry. I had felt more sorrow for Lieutenant Haddo, our enemy.
“Does Ryko know?” I whispered, ashamed of my arid spirit. “Does Vida?” Both had fought alongside Solly far longer. Perhaps they would have tears enough for us all.
Dela nodded. “They are sitting the ghost watch together.” She countered the flat note in her voice with a squeeze of my hand. She looked across at Madina. “Thank you for your help. Could you leave us, please?”
Dela waited until the woman had backed out of the chamber, then said, “The physician insisted you eat something before I saw you. He said it would buffer the shock to the spirit. Are you all right?”
I bit my lip. It seemed my spirit was in no need of a buffer. “They should have woken me when you arrived.”
She shook her head. “No, they were right to let you sleep. There was nothing you could have done.”
“I could have been there. I could have …” I faltered. There
Dela stepped closer, gathering me against her body. I buried my face in the hard muscle of her chest. She wore a borrowed tunic and trousers, and had obviously bathed. Still, I caught a shadow scent of mud as she moved. Doubtless the flood was still ingrained in my skin, too. Perhaps its stink would never leave any of us now.
“May Solly’s spirit walk in the garden of heaven,” Dela whispered.
“And his honor live through his line,” I finished. The traditional words did nothing to soothe me.
“There is more I must tell you,” Dela said. “About what happened to me after the water hit us.” She released me and limped to the door, peering outside for a moment before pulling it closed.
Finally, something broke through my numbness: a sharp foreboding. I sat on the bed as she dragged the low stool across the floor and sat opposite me.
“Hold out your arm,” she ordered.
I obeyed. She pressed her large knuckles lightly against mine, then drew up her loose sleeve. The rope of black pearls rattled down her arm. Before I could even flinch, the coils had tightened around my wrist, hauled the red folio over our hands, and bound it to my forearm. I pulled my arm back.
“You know I don’t want to carry it.”
“They recognize you,” she said, ignoring my protest. “Maybe you’ll think I’m mad, but those pearls have a mind of their own. They pulled me out of the water.” She shook her head. “I didn’t imagine it. They saved me from drowning — although they couldn’t do much about the tree that came down on top of me.” She raised an elegant eyebrow. “But you’re not surprised.”
I touched the warm black coils around my arm. “I saw the pearls on the black folio save Dillon. I think both sets of pearls are made of
“Ah, that would explain it. And whoever is attached to them is kept safe, too.” Dela smiled. “Thank the gods.” The smile faded. “Ryko told me that Dillon and the black folio are missing and the emperor has sent out every able-bodied man to search for them.”
“His Majesty has decided that it is more important to find the black folio than to rescue Ido.”
“Well, he is wrong.” Dela leaned forward. “I was pinned under that tree for many, many hours. Every time I tried to free myself, I made things worse; nearly buried myself alive in mud.” She shuddered. “To keep my mind focused, I tried to decipher more of your ancestor’s folio.”
“You found something?”
Dela licked her cracked lips. “I think I have worked out two coded verses on the first page.”
“What do they say? Show me.” I yanked at the black pearls. The smooth rope released and pooled into my cupped hand, bringing the folio with it. I opened the red leather cover, flicking over the page with its elegant dragon, to the first page full of Woman Script.
“This one,” Dela said, pointing to the faded characters. “If I am correct, it says:
I lifted my head. “An end? Does that mean the dragons?”
“There’s more.” Dela’s fingertip traced down the page.
I stared at the graceful calligraphy, trying to glean its meaning, although I did not know each character’s sense. “Say the first verse again.”
Dela repeated it.
“The ‘She of the dragon’ means the Mirror Dragon, since there is only one female dragon,” I said slowly. “And she has now returned and ascended.” I met Dela’s eyes, unwilling to voice the meaning of the next line.
“Her return means the dragons’ power is coming to an end,” she supplied softly.
I shook my head, trying to deny the enormity of the portent. If the dragons came to an end, then so did my power— before I had even truly wielded it. There would be no glorious link with the red dragon. No rank. No worth. I would be just a girl again. I would be nothing. Useless.
“It can’t be true,” I whispered.
“The land is in upheaval,” Dela pointed out, “and there are ten dragons without Dragoneyes.”
“But that doesn’t prove that their power is ending,” I said sharply. “The Mirror Dragon returned before Ido killed the Dragoneyes.”
“Then maybe the dragon power was coming to an end even before Ido murdered the Dragon Lords. And you cannot deny that the land is in peril.”
I pressed my hands against my eyes and tried to follow the terrifying pathways of possibility, looking for a reason to deny the truth of Kinra’s warning. But there was no getting past the first line: the Mirror Dragon had returned and ascended, and that meant the dragon power was ending.
“What is the second verse?” I demanded.
Again, Dela read it out.
“The ‘She of the Dragoneye’ has to be me,” I said, my unease deepening. “It says I can restore and defend. Does that mean I can stop the dragons losing their power?”
How could I stop such a thing? The impossibility of the task was like a huge hand squeezing all the hope and courage from me.
“I pray that is what it means,” Dela said. She touched a character on the parchment, its sharp angles in ugly contrast to the rest of the flowing calligraphy. “What is the dark force?
“It seems likely.”
“Then what is the
