columns that fronted the portico as cover. Vida pressed herself into the corner of the deep niche, shifting position until she had a sightline of the cells.
“Let me down,” I whispered against Dela’s ear.
Her head turned, stubbled cheek brushing mine. “Are you sure?”
She had carried me all the way from the servants’ path and the trembling in her shoulders and legs vibrated through me.
“I’ll be all right.” It was more of a hope than a certainty.
She relaxed her arms and let me drop to my feet. For a moment, all was steady — then the world lurched, and a gray haze billowed across my vision.
“She’s going again,” Vida hissed.
Her voice sounded far away. My legs folded.
Dela spun and caught me. “I’ve got you.”
I nodded, although the pain in my arm lodged in my throat like a dry retch. How was I going to get past the cell guards if I could not even stand? Dela gently maneuvered me against the carved wooden wall of the pavilion. With the solid support behind me, I rode the wave of dizziness.
“Rest.” Dela eased me down the wall until I sat on the stone floor. She crouched beside me. “You’re so cold.” Her arm circled my shoulders. The smell of leather and grease rose from the damp heat of her body.
And so the wait for Yuso and Ryko began. Although my body yearned for rest, I tensed at every night noise and flickering shadow. At some point, three lamp-eunuchs filed into the courtyard and lit the large pedestal lanterns set at intervals in a raked pebble border, the flare of each wick accompanied by a chime of thanks from a small prayer bell. Although they did not come near the portico, I still retreated farther into our hiding place, glad of its deep, shadowed embrace. From my position, I could see only one of the two guards posted outside the cell doorway; he wore a leather and iron vest and held a
We waited, every passing minute adding another lead weight of fear.
“What if they don’t make it?” Vida finally whispered beside us.
“They will.” Dela was firm. “Ryko will move the heavens to get here.”
A heavy silence settled over us. Vida shifted uncomfortably, her attention still on Dela. She gave a small nod — as if coming to a hard decision — then touched Dela’s arm. “Ryko loves you,” she whispered.
“What?” Dela’s body tensed against mine.
“You love him,” Vida said. “Don’t waste time. Men die fast in war.”
Her eyes flicked to me, their stark sorrow pinning me against the pavilion wall. I looked away from the grief I had caused.
“This is hardly the place,” Dela said through her teeth. She turned back to scanning the courtyard, her disquiet like a thrum through her body.
We all turned at the soft scuff of boots on stone.
Vida half rose, knife in hand. Dela’s arm tightened around my shoulder, ready to lift me, as two dark figures paused in the shadows cast by the columns. But there was no mistaking the broad shape of Ryko, or lean Yuso. Dela’s hold relaxed as Vida beckoned the two men across the portico.
Darting from column to column, Ryko and Yuso made their way toward us. They wore uniforms; no doubt the two soldiers who had joined the dice game were either dead or trussed up somewhere. Hard on them, but a victory for us. We were now three soldiers and two Blossom Women eager to see the Dragoneye in the cells.
“Are you all right?” Ryko whispered to Dela.
I could feel the softening within her at the sound of his voice.
“Lady Eona is hurt,” she reported. “Knife to the forearm. Lost a lot of blood.”
The news sent Yuso squatting before me, his face intent. “Can you still go ahead?”
I nodded, but closed my eyes as the world swirled again. I felt Yuso’s calloused hand brush my cheek, his thumb finding the race of my pulse. His touch felt so like Sethon’s that I flinched.
He pulled back with a frown. “We won’t wait for the shift change. We go in now.”
“That will only give us a half bell before the new guards,” Ryko whispered.
“It can’t be helped. Lady Eona does not have the strength to wait.” Yuso clasped my good arm and pulled me upright. “Ryko, carry her.”
Hands helped me onto Ryko’s broad back. I rested my chin against the solid beam of his shoulders, my useless arm dangling over his chest. The whole limb was numb now. A small blessing, except I could feel the numbness spreading through my body. Everything was distant; sounds muffled, objects blurred, even the heat of Ryko’s body against mine barely penetrated the cold armor of my exhaustion.
It seemed to take forever to edge from column to column. The guards were sharing another illicit drink, and Ryko moved only when their attention was on the pass of the bottle. I counted my breaths between each wait, trying to turn my mind from the shivering weakness that kept loosening my grip around Ryko’s neck. We finally edged around the corner of the pavilion, beyond the guards’ sightline. Ryko scanned the training compound before us — the dark hall and the raked expanse of the training sands were deserted — then ran across to the narrow set of rear steps.
One by one the others ran from the shadowed portico and joined us. Ryko tightened his hold around my waist and turned his head, our noses almost touching.
“All right?” he whispered.
“All right,” I lied.
He nodded, but he was not fooled.
Yuso signed us forward. We skirted the training sands and headed toward the long rear wall of the imperial guard barracks. Before the coup, Ryko and Yuso had been quartered there along with the other imperial guards, but now it housed over two hundred soldiers. Or even more, according to Mama Momo. The dark wall bordered the whole length of the training compound and reached beyond the Pavilion of Autumnal Justice. I had not realized how close the barracks were to the cells. Dangerously within yelling distance.
At the edge of the training compound, Yuso signed a halt.
“From here,” he whispered.
Ryko eased me down onto my feet. I swayed and felt hands grab the silk at my back — Dela, an anchor in the swirling, pitching world.
“She can’t walk by herself,” Dela hissed over my shoulder.
“Between you two, then,” Yuso ordered.
Dela circled her arm across my shoulders, Ryko around my waist. Between them I was held upright, my injured arm hidden from view.
Yuso draped his arm over Vida’s shoulders, then glanced back at us. “Ready?”
And so we stepped through the elegant gateway that separated the training compound from the courtyard of justice: three drunken soldiers and their giggling companions looking for fresh entertainment.
The iron grips of Ryko and Dela kept me moving forward. I smiled up at their laughing banter, hoping the strain did not show on my face. We passed the Pavilion of Autumnal Justice, the pools of lamplight hollowing Dela’s eyes and catching the gleam of sweat at Ryko’s temples.
I chanced a look at the guards. Our stumbling, giggling progress across the courtyard had drawn them close together in front of the doorway. They watched our approach, all evidence of boredom and bottle gone.
Ryko nuzzled my hair. “Almost there,” he breathed. “Almost there.”
Beside the door, a bronze gong hung from a sturdy wooden frame, ready to alert the men in the barracks if we made one misstep. For a moment, I closed my eyes, overwhelmed by the hazards ahead. Even if we did get inside the cell to Ido and I managed to heal him, we also had to get past those two hundred men.
I opened my eyes as Yuso bowed to the guards. “Evening.” He swayed on the return, his drunken grin perfectly judged. “The lovely Dara and Sela here”—he pointed a wavering finger at Vida, then spun around and jabbed it toward me—“would like to view the mighty Dragoneye.” He squinted at the two men. “They’ve never seen one.”
Yuso was a convincing liar.
The older sentry shook his head. “My apologies, honored Leopard. As you must know, it is not possible.” He
