Ignoring him, Momo turned to Yuso. “What is this plan that is so important that you would risk a Dragoneye? Do you try to assassinate Sethon? You will die before you get near him.”
“We have to get Lord Ido out of the palace,” Yuso said.
She took a sip of tea, eyeing us. “That’s almost as difficult. He is in the cells.”
“You’re sure he’s still alive?” I asked urgently.
“He was this morning,” Momo said. “The soldiers take my girls to look at him like some kind of freak show: the great Dragoneye Lord bowed and bloody. My girls have seen a lot in their lives, and even they are shocked by what Sethon has done. From all accounts, if you try to move him, you’ll kill him.”
“That is why I am here,” I said. “I can heal him.”
It was one of the biggest risks in our plan. I had to heal Ido fast enough for him to gather his strength and hold off the ten bereft dragons before they tore me apart with power. Again, I touched Kygo’s ring: not only for luck, but for comfort, too.
“You can heal?” Momo shook her head in wonder.
“You say the soldiers take your girls to look at him,” Dela said. “That could work to our advantage.”
Momo tilted her head. “You’re eastern,” she said.
“I am Lady Dela. I was—”
“The Contraire?” Momo sat up straight.
Dela nodded, smoothing back her greasy hair with a self- conscious hand.
The old woman pressed her thin lips together. “We may have a problem. I have an eastern girl here, from the Haya Ro, and if she recognizes you …”
“She may,” Dela said. “I am the only twin soul among the Highland Tribes, and well known.”
Momo crooked a finger at Stoll. “Tell Hina she can take those two days off to see her son. As long as she goes now.”
Stoll bowed and left to deliver the good news. As the sliding door closed behind him, I glimpsed one of the Trang Dein man on the landing, armed and alert.
“And who are you?” Momo asked Vida dryly. “The Sun Empress?”
Vida shook her head. “I am a resistance fighter,” she said, undaunted by the old woman’s sarcasm.
Dela circled her hands around her tea bowl. “Why would Sethon torture Ido?” she asked. “It doesn’t make sense. He needs Ido.”
“No doubt Sethon is trying to get information out of him,” Yuso said.
Momo grunted. “I don’t like Lord Ido. I never have. He is twenty-four now, but I’ve known him since he was sixteen, and right from the beginning he has had something within him that is”—she paused—”keyed differently. If Sethon wanted something out of him, he would have to push past what a normal man could endure.”
I knew what Ido was trying to keep from Sethon: how to use the black folio to control a Dragoneye and his power. Or
“You think Sethon has just gone too far with him?” Dela asked.
“I have seen Sethon’s methods,” Yuso said grimly. “They do not err on the side of restraint.”
“It is even beyond that,” Momo said. “We get imperial orders to send girls to the palace for our new esteemed emperor. Sometimes they don’t come back.” She glanced around the table, her eyes hard with anger. “Three bodies in the canal so far; one of them a girl from my house. He enjoys having power over life and death. I’ve tried to stop supplying, as have the other houses, but he just sends his men to get them.”
We sat in silence.
“Why do you want Ido so badly?” Momo finally asked. “It’s going to be a hellish job to get him out, and I can see you are here to ask for my help.”
It seemed we had finally passed her scrutiny. Yuso looked across at me, questioning. I shrugged:
“Lady Eona needs training,” he said. “Without Ido, she will not be able to control her power. And His Majesty needs her power to win his throne.”
Momo leaned forward, pinning me with her bright gaze. “What makes you think Ido will do what you want? From gratitude?” Her thin body shook in a silent laugh. “Ido doesn’t know what the word means. I should know.”
“When Lady Eona heals someone, she can control their will,” Ryko said. “She has healed Ido once already.”
My skin heated at the edge in his voice. Momo heard it, too; her attention snapped to the islander.
She sat back and sucked on her teeth. “She’s healed you, too, hasn’t she, Ry?”
His nod was almost imperceptible, his eyes fixed on the table. For a moment, Momo’s face softened.
“Well, then, Lady Eona.” She turned to me, once again Queen of the Blossom World. “If you can control a will like Ryko’s, you might be able to control Lord Ido. What is your plan, Yuso?”
“We cannot go in by force, so we must go in by deception. Lady Eona and Vida will masquerade as Blossom Women for one of these gatherings.”
Momo stared at him. “That is a very dangerous proposition.”
“Not so dangerous if they go in as high-ranked girls,” Yuso said.
She crossed her arms and inspected me, then Vida. “Possible, with a bit of work,” she conceded. “Although the refined arts of an Orchid or Peony are not often requested by soldiers. They do not want music or dance. They are more your Jasmine or Cherry Blossom type of men.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “We can work around it, though.”
“We do not expect Lady Eona or Vida to actually have to perform,” Yuso said quickly. “And Ryko, Lady Dela, and I will go in as their protectors, or something along those lines.”
“Could you and Ryko be recognized, captain?” Momo asked.
“Not unless some of the imperial guard have survived and turned,” he said.
Momo shook her head. “Executed. Every one of them.”
Yuso and Ryko looked at one another — a moment of shared anger — then Yuso bowed his head. Ryko pressed his fist to his chest, his face tight.
After a moment’s respectful silence, Momo said, “If you go in as my men, you will be stopped and held back outside the rooms, but at least you will be inside the palace walls. How quickly do you want to move?”
“As soon as we can,” I said.
“There’s an officer’s party tonight. Is that soon enough?”
I took a deep breath and looked around at the others. I saw the same tension in them that shifted through me: we had all stepped up to the edge.
Yuso smiled, hard and grim. One by one, we all smiled back.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Momo said dryly.
It was good to have hot fish and rice in my belly and to be clean again, even if the bath had been rushed and the scrubbing delivered by a maid with the touch of a net-hauler. I pulled the still-damp drying cloth higher up on my chest and shifted on the hard wooden stool as Mama Momo and Moon Orchid examined me.
The young Blossom Woman reached across and pushed my wet hair behind my ear, then pursed her lips thoughtfully. I tried not to stare, but it was hard to resist the draw of her face. Madina had spoken of the four seats of beauty, and Moon Orchid had them all, in abundance. Thick, soft hair dressed high to accentuate her broad forehead; wide eyes with a hint of clever mischief in them; lips that called for a fingertip to trace their shape; and a long, smooth throat, all in a harmony of spirit that brought a pang to the heart.
“I don’t think she can be an Orchid,” Momo said. “Her face and voice would pass, but she moves like a delivery boy.” She glanced down at me. “No offense, my lady.”
I hitched up the drying cloth again and shrugged. Compared to Moon Orchid’s languorous grace, I did move like a boy.
Moon Orchid tilted her head. “It will have to be a Peony, and we will hope that she is not asked to play for them.” She eyed me for a moment. “I don’t suppose you have any skill with a lute?”
I shook my head.
Momo reached across and tilted my face, inspecting my jaw. “The Peony paint will also cover that bruise. We do not want the vultures to circle.” She touched Moon Orchid’s arm. “Will you begin? I’ll see to Vida.”
