“My father has charted all of the coastline. He knows the harbors as well as he knows his own children,” Vida added. “This will be the best one for him to use with the tides.”
Kygo turned to me. “And the cyclone?”
I glanced up at the strange sky. The dark clouds were high but held the oppressive weight of a low storm, with the occasional flash of dry lightning. A hot inland wind had brought the swarms of tiny flies that surrounded us.
“Still two days away,” I said.
Outside the circle, I saw Ido nod his agreement. We had not spoken since I had compelled him to call Dillon. Dela told me that his gaze followed me everywhere, but so far I had managed to avoid meeting his eyes. The intimacy of that new compulsion was still in my blood. No doubt it lingered within him, too.
“Cannot Lord Ido stop the development of this cyclone?” Kygo asked me. He refused to give Ido the favor of direct communication.
Ido leaned forward. “No, Lord Ido cannot stop it by himself,” he said, with an edge in his voice.
Kygo angled his face away from the Dragoneye and waited for me to answer.
“No,” I said brusquely.
It felt stupid repeating what everyone else had already heard. I grabbed on to the minor irritation — anything to stop the ache I felt whenever I looked at Kygo. Distracted by the hardship of traveling fast and covertly, he had not yet noticed the careful space I was keeping between us.
“My father will be able to outrun it, if all goes to plan and we board at dusk,” Vida said.
“Then let’s go in,” Kygo said. “We don’t want to miss our boat.”
We were met outside the village by a keen-eyed lookout. With an apologetic bow, he explained that his orders were to lead us along the cliff path to the house of Elder Rito. As we followed the young man in single file along a track suited more to goats than men, the cove below came into view between the coarse bushes — a white sand crescent dotted with a few beached boats and drying nets. I stopped, overtaken by the image of another white beach and a woman holding out her hand. My mother. I almost had a clear picture of her face. But it was gone in an instant, only an echo of emotion left behind — and even that was blurred. Batting away a sticky fly, I hurried along the path to close the gap behind Dela, still caught in the soft-edged pull of my memory.
Elder Rito’s cottage was set on a slope overlooking the cove. The small wooden dwelling was so faded by wind, rain, and salt that its silvered silhouette looked as if it was made of the gray sea below it. Inside, the furnishings in the single room were as worn as the exterior, but there was a scent of spicy fish stew that brought saliva to my mouth, and a pleasing order to the sparse belongings. As we gathered in the cramped space, three old men bent into kowtows on the worn straw matting: the elders of Sokayo.
“You may rise,” Kygo said.
All three sat back stiffly on their heels. Each had the dark, weathered skin of the coastal dweller and gnarled hands from years of hauling nets. The man kneeling in the center — Rito, their spokesman — also had the distinction of a hideous scar that ran straight across his cheeks and nose. “An encounter with a sea ray,” our young guide had thoughtfully informed us before we entered the house. Even warned, it was hard not to stare at the puckered ruin of his face.
“You are Elder Rito?” Kygo asked. The old man nodded. “We are grateful for your village’s hospitality.”
“It is our honor, Your Majesty,” Rito said. His eyes flicked to the Imperial Pearl. “Our loyalty is to you and the memory of your revered father, who walks among the golden gods. We know you are the true heir to his enlightened throne.” Rito bowed, then turned to me. “We are honored to welcome you, too, Lady Dragoneye.”
“You know who I am?” I asked.
“Your true identity is widespread now, my lady. Tacked to trees and whispered in taverns. As is the tragic news of the slaying of your ten Dragoneye brothers.”
His eyes went to Ido’s bound hands, then traveled up to the Dragoneye’s face. For such an old man, the threat within that slow gaze was palpable. Perhaps it was the scar across his face that intensified the menace; only a fierce and strong-willed man could have survived that injury. Ido’s fingers curled into fists.
“For the time being, Lord Ido is under our protection, Elder Rito,” Kygo said.
“Of course, Your Majesty,” Rito said, bowing again.
“Have there been more troops in the area than usual?” Yuso asked.
“Activity has been increasing everywhere,” Rito said. “We have had our share of scrutiny, but nothing that differs from other villages in the area. Probably less, since we are farther from the main thoroughfare and do not have grain or livestock for the taking.”
“You have extra sentries posted?”
“Of course, but you are welcome to review them if you wish.”
Yuso nodded. “Thank you. I will.”
Rito turned his attention back to me. “You have seen the flies, my lady?” I nodded. “The dogs are also crying at night. And the children have seen ants climbing trees with their eggs on their backs — signs that a cyclone is coming from an unseemly direction.”
“Yes,” I said. “From the west. It will arrive here in two days.”
He leaned forward, his face sharpening. “Can you stop it, my lady?” His eyes went to Ido, then back to me.
I licked my lips, mouth suddenly dry. “I’m sorry, Elder Rito. Lord Ido and I cannot stop it.”
“Ahh.” The slow exhale was full of crushed hope. Rito glanced to the elder at his right and jerked his head toward the doorway.
The other man nodded, then bowed to Kygo. “May I withdraw, Your Majesty?” His voice cracked with urgency. “We need to bring our cyclone preparations forward.”
“Of course.”
As the elder rose and retreated from the room, it felt as though all eyes were upon me.
“Your Majesty, we have hot food ready and have prepared places for sleep,” Rito finally said. “If there is anything else you or Lady Eona require, please let me know.”
There
“I believe you have a bathhouse,” I said.
The old woman bowed, the arc of her mottled hand urging Vida and me through the blue door flags at the entrance of the communal bathhouse.
“I will wait out here and make sure you are not disturbed, my lady,” she said with a shy smile. “And inside, you will find all that you requested.”
“Thank you.” I returned the smile and pushed through the flags.
Vida followed a step behind. After a hurried bowl of fish stew, I had spent almost a quarter bell courteously resisting the elders’ pressure to be bathed by the senior village women. I could not, however, refuse Kygo’s insistence that Vida escort me into the bathhouse. Her company was the closest I was going to get to time alone.
We both stopped inside the compact foyer. The attendant’s small platform, edged by a thick carved railing, was set between two wooden doors that led into the bathing areas: faded blue for men on the right, red for women on the left. A set of shoe shelves stood on either side of the small area. I slipped my sandals off and pushed them onto the rough shelf next to me. Vida followed suit, placing hers next to mine.
“I do not have any training as a body servant, my lady,” she said. “I will need instruction.”
I shook my head. “I’ll look after myself, Vida. You may bathe, too. I’m sure you’d like to honor your father’s arrival.”
“Truly?” She looked down at her feet. Tide marks of dirt showed the outline of her sandal straps. My feet were just as filthy. “That would be wonderful.”
“Come, let’s go in.”
I crossed the rough straw matting and slid open the red door. The small dressing room was furnished with a
