the temple wall. Vida punched the old eunuch to the cobbles, and grabbed the younger by his queue. He rammed an elbow into her stomach, the two of them hurtling toward me. I jumped out of the way as they slammed against the harem wall, grappling.
I spun to face the soldier. The force of the blow was already receding from his eyes. He drew his knife, blinking me back into focus. I tensed into readiness, all of my attention fixed on the blade.
“No knife!” the old eunuch on the ground gasped. “He’ll have us killed if you cut them.”
The soldier hesitated. It was all I needed; I drove the jagged end of the lute into the side of his neck, above the armor. The sharp wood pierced flesh and vein, the impact snapping its length in half. A spurt of blood arced into the air; he choked and slashed wildly at me as I jumped backward. His blade caught my forearm, my own momentum pulling it through my flesh in a wash of blood and searing pain. A thousand pinpoints of light exploded across my sight. My back hit the harem wall, its hard surface a mooring in the sudden gray, swirling haze.
A dark figure rose from the ground and came at me. The old eunuch? I swung a fist, but he was suddenly gone. Then came the thud of flesh hitting brick and a low, wet moan. I crouched against the wall, only registering dark shapes and the sounds of movement. My whole arm was a burning pulse of agony.
“Is she all right?” Vida’s voice.
A shape loomed through my fog. Instinctively, I hit out at it again, my fingers grazing skin.
“It’s all right, Eona.”
A hand caught my wrist, and held me still. The gray haze ebbed into Dela’s shadowy face. I gasped in relief.
“Let’s have a look.” Dela pulled my arm away from the brace of my body. We both looked down at the deep gash from elbow to wrist. It immediately welled with fresh blood. “I’ve seen worse,” she said with a quick smile of reassurance, but there was worry in her eyes. “Are you sure you cannot use your healing power?”
“It would bring the ten dragons,” I said. “Like in the fisher village.” I took a deep, shaking breath. “When I heal Ido, the power should heal me, too.”
At least that is what I hoped would happen.
Dela quickly ripped a strip of cloth from her tunic. A few folds made it a field dressing. She pressed it to the wound, then deftly bound the rest of the cloth over it, the firm pressure sending a surge of pain up my arm. “Keep a tight grip on it,” she said.
Nearby, Vida held the young eunuch at knifepoint against the temple wall. The slumped form of the soldier was at their feet. Dela edged back the way we had come and peered out, then did the same for the path ahead.
“No one coming,” she whispered. She bent to check the guard.
“Dead?” I asked. But the overpowering stench of urine and bowels had already answered me.
“Yes.” Dela rose and crossed to the other eunuch. “This one, too.” She grabbed the dead attendant under the arms and dragged him farther back into the shadows, then rolled the body against the red brick wall. “We need to get out of here. This passage is too well used.”
I tried to force my mind beyond the stinking presence of death and the pain humming through my head. We had to get to the Pavilion of Autumnal Justice; the cells were part of its compound. I closed my eyes and pictured the layout of the palace again. The fastest route was across the forecourt of the royal apartments, but it was also well lit and well guarded. My inner map showed another possibility. The servants’ path ran the whole way around the palace wall — a hidden track for the low and menial to navigate without being seen. And it was never guarded.
“The servants’ path will be safest,” I said. “We can get to it up past the royal apartments. Or we could go around the front of the West Temple and beside the kitchens.”
“Both have soldiers posted,” Dela said.
“Apartments,” the young eunuch whispered.
Vida jerked the knife closer to his throat. “Shut up.”
Dela walked over to him. “Why do you say that?”
He lifted his chin. “Blossom Women are brought to the royal apartments all the time. They never go to the kitchens.”
“Why do you offer this?”
“I am already dead,” he said, eyeing the knife. “If you do not kill me, His Majesty will, and not as quickly.” The round curves of his face sharpened. “If I must die, I will at least deny him two more victims of his sick pleasure.”
“He is right,” Dela said. “The royal apartments are closer, and we will have a better chance of deceiving the guards.”
“Take me with you,” the eunuch said quickly. “It will look more authentic.”
Vida leaned in. “You will just call for help.”
“No, no — please! Take me with you. I cannot stay here anymore.”
Dela stared intently at him. “All right, we’ll take you,” she said, stopping Vida’s protest with a raised hand. “But you have said it yourself — Sethon will kill you as surely as I take my next breath. We are your best chance of survival, so do as we say.”
“And I will have this knife at your back the whole time,” Vida added.
I remembered the sympathy in the young man’s face as he led me toward his royal master, and felt a leap of grim intuition.
Sethon did not limit himself to Blossom Women. “You will not give us up,” I said to the eunuch. “Will you.”
He met the knowledge in my eyes. “No.”
Vida snorted with disbelief. I levered myself upright and leaned against the wall. “Where are Ryko and Yuso?”
Dela looked up from removing the dead guard’s helmet, her eyes bleak. “I saw two soldiers join their dice game.” She bent to untie the man’s leather vest armor. “If they can get rid of them, they know where to meet us.”
The god of luck was playing his own games. Mustering my strength, I pushed myself off the wall. The world pitched and spun, then settled again into gray shadows. At least the haze had not returned. I cradled my arm against my ribcage, my fingers still clamped over the wet, pulsing wound.
With a soft grunt, Dela pulled the vest over the dead man’s head. His body flopped back against the wall, a sickening reminder of Yuso pulling his sword from Lieutenant Haddo’s chest. I shivered, but it was not all from horror. I felt hot and cold at the same time.
Dela slid the vest over her head and knotted the side ties. Although she hated dressing as a man, she made a convincing soldier. Her movements were always quicker and bolder in men’s garb. All the womanly control and grace — gone.
She looked up at the walls on either side of us, topped with slanting tiles. “Too high to throw the bodies over,” she said, tucking her greased hair under the helmet. “We’ll have to leave them, but they’ll be found soon.” She picked up the sword. “Ready?”
I nodded and stepped beside Vida, the simple action bringing a wave of nausea. Although a deep breath steadied me, fresh blood oozed through the field bandage and my fingers. I shifted my good arm over the wound; the wide silk sleeve would hide most of the blood from view. Hopefully, I would not drip a trail behind us.
Vida held the knife poised behind the eunuch, the end of his sash wrapped around her other hand. She smiled reassuringly at me, then prodded him between his shoulder blades.
“Walk normally,” she ordered.
I heard him whisper a prayer. Then he moved forward, leading us out of the shadowy protection of the passage.
We rounded the corner of the harem; before us rose the two enormous red and gold palaces that formed the royal apartments. Each was raised on a marble terrace with a staircase guarded by two gilded lions. Heavy brass braziers lined the steps, creating two majestic paths of light up to the identical porticos. Twelve red columns — topped by carved jade emblems— supported each gold tiled roof that curved up toward the heavens: a harmonious meeting of the earthly and celestial planes. And to enhance the good fortune of the Heavenly Son and his empress, a water garden stretched between the two residences, the pale moonlight picking out the arch of a formal bridge
