emperor is here and we have much to discuss,” he said to the quieting room. “First we must honor Lady Eona, and the Mirror Dragon. Many generations have passed without a dragon in the east, and perhaps Lady Eona will not understand our ways. We have survived, and our independence may seem to offer insult. Yet we are not without respect, lady.” He gestured to the two men at the door to open it again, then turned back to me. “Normally we would not allow such weakness to taint us with its illfortune, but we understand these people are important to you.” He held up his hand to stop the rise of muttering. “A gesture of good will, if you like.”
Bewildered, I watched the doorway.
For an instant, I did not recognize the woman’s face. Then the rush of all that was Rilla flooded through me: safety and warmth and a smile that always held the truth. Behind her was Lon, the big body servant, and in his arms was the dear, twisted form of Chart. I launched myself forward as Rilla pushed her way past the benches, her hands reaching for me. As mine reached for her.
“You are safe!” My words were a half-sob as her tight embrace squeezed my voice away. Her cheek was soft against mine and I drew in her familiar smell — a mix of sweet soap and hard work.
“My lord”—she gave a breathy laugh—“I mean, my lady. We have heard so many different stories.” She pulled back to look at me. Her joy did not stop a quick inspection. “You are tired, I think.” I could see the shrewd observation in her face. She already knew it was more than fatigue. “And you are no longer limping.”
“I will tell you all later,” I said.
Lon stopped beside us, struggling to hold Chart as he thrashed his limbs in excitement. Although Chart’s muscles had crabbed and curled him almost double, he still had a fifteen-year-old’s body, and it could do some damage. A few of those sitting nearby leaned away from him, their fingers curled into ward-evil signs.
“Lady … Eon … a!” Chart slurred, holding out his hands.
I caught his bone-thin fingers. His liberation disc — the token of release from bond service that I had given him — swung on its leather thong around his neck. A symbol of his rank as freeman. It obviously meant nothing to these easterners, who saw only his twisted body.
An idea was forming. Could I heal Chart with my power? Make his body straight again?
His mouth stretched into his slow smile. “You … not … bad-looking … as a … girl.”
I grinned and leaned closer. “Think of all those missed opportunities for a grope,” I whispered.
Chart’s mouth opened wide into his raucous laugh, his body straining upward in Lon’s arms. I smiled at the big man. “Hello, Lon, how are you?” I lowered my voice. “Have you been treated well?”
“Yes, my lady,” he said, ducking his head. “We are all well. And glad you are safe.”
“Lady Eona.” Kygo’s call was crisp but he was smiling. “I understand your joy in the return of your friends and rejoice with you, but we must proceed.”
Although his voice seemed easy, I heard the tension within it. Guiltily, I looked back at my mother; she would have seen my joy, too. Yet she smiled at me, the gentle understanding on her face bringing an answering smile to my own.
“Of course, Your Majesty, we must proceed,” I said loudly, and turned to Rulan. “My thanks to you and your people for finding my friends.” With a touch to Rilla’s shoulder, I drew all three toward the raised bench. “Come, sit by me.” My firm order stopped the approach of the door guards, obviously intent on removing Chart from the meetinghouse. They looked to Rulan, who waved them back. Ignoring the subtle shifting of dismay around the tent, I returned to my position beside Kygo, while Rilla and Lon seated themselves and Chart on the rugs near my feet.
“You have indeed survived well without the blessing of a dragon,” Kygo said to the gathering. “And your courage and skill in battle are legendary.” He touched the Imperial Pearl at his throat, its pale luminescence drawing everyone’s eyes. “As you can see, I am the rightful heir to the throne. The pearl is within me, is a part of me. And with the might of the Mirror Dragon and the Rat Dragon behind us, we will be victorious in the struggle ahead.”
Rulan cut through the rise of voices with a flat hand. “We acknowledge your right, Your Majesty,” he said. “But with all due respect, you have brought us a girl barely beyond childhood, and a traitor who killed his Dragoneye brothers and sided with our enemy. We do not see how his power can be brought to our venture. Or how a little girl can be trusted to fight and not run from the battle.”
On the bench to our left, I saw Tozay stiffen.
“Lady Eona does not run from a battle,” Kygo said coldly. “She has as much courage as any man in this room. And she can compel Lord Ido’s power. He will do as she commands. And she will do as I command.”
The change of atmosphere in the tent sent danger prickling across my scalp. I straightened, not even daring to swallow, in case it was seen as weakness.
“Then show us this staunch chain of command, Your Majesty,” Rulan demanded. “Prove that all of this power is under your control, and we will follow you to victory — or death— with joy in our hearts.”
His words were greeted with yips of enthusiasm from around the room.
“Silence,” Kygo commanded.
The noise stopped, its shrillness shifting into a sudden press of expectancy.
“You have something in mind, Rulan,” Kygo said flatly. “What is it?”
Rulan looked around the tent with a smile, the delay in his answer sharpening his people’s excitement. “Have Lady Eona compel Lord Ido.” His eyes fixed on the Dragoneye, then found me. “Make him hold his arm in the brazier coals for a count of ten. One count each for the Dragoneye Lords he betrayed.”
Beside me, Rilla gasped. I sucked in a hard breath, forcing myself to meet the challenge in Rulan’s face. The demand was too brutal. I would not do it. Yet I had placed my power under Kygo’s command, and I could not renege on that promise. Perhaps Kygo would refuse. If he loved me as much as Tozay had said — as much as his sweet endearment and caresses seemed to say — then surely he would not ask me to do this.
I turned from Rulan, praying that Kygo would see my reluctance. But he was staring at Ido, his jaw tensed into a brutal line. He needed the Eastern Tribes. He could not refuse, and he could not show weakness. And as his
Ido’s hard gaze moved to me. He was not a man to plead, but I saw something flick across his face. What he saw in mine made him close his eyes.
“For a count of ten,” Kygo agreed.
Ido’s hands clenched in the irons.
“Ryko,” Kygo said. The islander looked up. “Take Lillia outside.”
Ryko bowed, crossed the floor, and led my mother from the tent. A tiny spark of warmth penetrated my dread. Kygo had just protected Ryko from the full brunt of my compulsion, and Lillia from the truth. I turned to Rilla — she and Chart should go outside, too — but her face was already set into the stubborn lines I knew so well. She would not leave.
“Yuso,” Kygo ordered, motioning to the brazier.
Yuso grasped Ido’s arm, preparing to pull him upright, but the Dragoneye wrenched himself out of the captain’s grip and stood under his own volition. He looked around the room, slowly and deliberately — and in that moment I understood the strength of Ido’s will, for there was not one friendly face in that crowd. Not one place to find solace. Then he walked to the brazier.
Yuso followed.
“Lady Eona,” Kygo said. He looked at me, and I finally saw what was in his heart: fury at Rulan for forcing his hand, and regret for me. “Show Rulan your power.”
I stood as Yuso undid Ido’s shackles, then pulled them off his wrists and stepped back. The tent was so quiet I could hear Ido’s quickening breaths. Or perhaps they were just mine. I crossed the distance between us and stood opposite him. He had to have one pair of eyes that offered compassion, even if they belonged to his torturer.
“Again,” I said, hoping he would understand.
The tilt of his head was almost imperceptible, his face paling with anticipation.
I reached with my
“Lord Ido, put your arm into the brazier,” I ordered, fighting back the rise of bile into my mouth.
I felt Ido’s instinct rage against the command, the sinews ridging in his arm as he braced against my will. But
