Sethon.
The sentry on the right waved us over.
'Prisoner,' Ryko said, forestalling any questions.
I kept my face down, unable to meet any more callous appraisal.
The sentry grunted. 'Take her beside the pagoda.'
Ryko manhandled me through the archway into the press of men.
I was not prepared for the sheer number of them; scores and scores of soldiers, the sour stink of their anticipation like the reek of hunting animals. All their attention was fixed on the elegant raised pagoda at the centre of the garden square. I could only see the deep curves of its upswept roof over the heads of the men in front of me, but 1 could hear Sethon's voice booming with victory.
'I am your Emperor,' he roared. 'I am Emperor.'
'Emperor,' the men roared back, like baying dogs. Hundreds of fists punched the air.
Ryko pulled me close.
'Wait,' he said against my ear.
I gave a slight nod. There was nothing we could do until Lady Dela caught up to us. Until she found my dragon's name. I licked fear-parched lips. What if it wasn't in the folio? Or worse: what if she found it and I still couldn't call the dragon?
Four soldiers nearby noticed our arrival with sideway glances. The avidity in their faces made me shrink further into Ryko's hold. It was something I had once seen in the whipmaster when he beat a man to death. Bloodlust. These men wanted to see brutality. They wanted to see death. Any death. Behind me, I felt Ryko straighten into his full height, his free hand finding the grip of Kinra's sword. Three of the men looked away from the challenge, the fourth meeting Ryko's glare until Sethon's deep, resonating voice pulled his attention back to the pagoda. I swallowed the rise of acid terror. What could we do against hundreds of men eager for blood?
'I am a descendant of the jade dragons. I have the rightful claim,' Sethon yelled. 'I invoke the tradition of Reitanon.'
'Reitanon, Reitanon,' the men chanted.
'No,' a woman screamed. 'No.' Through the shrill terror, I recognised Lady Jila's cultured voice.
I shifted against Ryko, trying to find a sightline through the jostling crowd. The large square was arranged as a scholar's garden. A series of paved terraces were bounded by sculpted trees, rocks and linked ponds designed to create a flow of tranquil energy But there was no peace or harmony today: soldiers trampled the elegant spaces, creating dense, ugly patterns of their own. Finally, a gap opened and I saw the central pagoda. Inside was a shining god of war: High Lord Sethon in a horned helmet and full armour, the precious metal plates and gold rivets catching the torch light.
Two soldiers hauled a woman across the floor and pushed her down at Sethon's feet. She was clutching something to her chest. At this distance, I had to strain to see the woman's face but my gut already knew who ii was: Lady Jila, and her son, the second Prince. I lurched forwards hut was stopped by Ryko's iron grip.
T know,' he hissed. 'I know.'
Where was Lady I)ela? I twisted around. Where was she? We could do nothing without her and the book.
'By the archway,' Ryko whispered.
She was slumped against the wall, one hand pressed into her shoulder, the other wrapped around her stomach — just another wounded soldier eager to see the entertainment. But this soldier's gaze was not on the pagoda. It was on something hidden under the cover of a bent elbow and hunched body.
She must have felt my desperation because she looked up. The despair in her eyes answered my silent question. She bowed her head back to the folio.
'You do not have rightful claim,' Lady Jila shrieked. 'My sons have the claim!'
A baby started crying. Fierce yells and shrill screams came from below the pagoda, at the foot of the rocks. For a brief moment I saw chained Imperial guards struggling with soldiers and a row of kneeling, weeping concubines. Then my sightline was gone.
A breathless tension had settled on the crowd, the faces around us set into savage expectancy.
I finally found another sliver of space straight through to the pagoda. Lady Jila was on her knees with her baby locked in her arms. Sethon was standing over them. A casual flick of his fingers sent a soldier grabbing for the child. Another flick started a lone drum into a slow beat. Lady Jila screamed, fighting to hold on to her son. Sethon stepped closer, his gauntleted hand swinging in a vicious blow. Lady Jila's head jerked back, blood running down her face, but she did not let go of her baby. 1 lis fist swung again. She hit the ground, the soldier dragging the infant free of her desperate grasp. Against my back, I felt Ryko's heartbeat pounding, every sinew in him tensed against the urge to run to their aid.
'We can't let this happen,' I croaked.
'We are too late,' he whispered. 'Too late.'
Lady Dela was still bent over the book. All I could hear was the beat of the drum and the sobbing pleas of Lady Jila. I had to do something. I had to stop Sethon. Stop him.
I touched the death plaques at my breast. Protect me from Ido, I prayed, then narrowed my eyes and plunged deep into the energy world; an arrow straight into the heart of the Rat Dragon. Blue energy exploded through me, warping my senses until the crowd and buildings buckled into swirling silver Hua. The sensation of Ryko's body against mine dropped away, as though I was floating in water. My mind-sight spun in a dizzy fall then sharpened.
Hovering above the square was the Rat Dragon, as big as a hall. The only dragon visible.
Foreboding swept through me. If all the other dragons were gone, were their Dragoneyes dead?
A set of lethal opal claws raked at the air and a terrible screech sent pain stabbing through my head. The iridescent blue pearl beneath his muzzle was pulsing. His huge spirit eyes locked onto mine and I knew the endless power of death and destruction and Gan. Beneath him was the figure of Sethon, his sword aimed at the child dangling helplessly from the soldier's hands.
'No!' I screamed and opened myself to the dragon's fearsome power. It hit me with the force of a thousand fists — an uncontrollable torrent of blue energy that roared with ancient annihilation.
The drum stopped.
Kill him, I ordered and behind the puny words was the earth's own life force, spiralling into a rush of destruction. Dimly, I heard the child's wail cut short. I was too late. Above the pagoda, the dragon threw back its huge horned head and howled with confusion. The terrible keening was joined by a woman's anguished scream. But even that was Iost in the nuiltitude of shouts and shrieks from the crowd as a si reaming column of blue power burst down from the beast towards the centre of the pagoda and the shining figure of Sethon.
Stop!
The order thundered through my head.
Ido.
He was in my mind, the grip of his will closing around mine. For a moment, I saw myself through his eyes: still pressed against Ryko, shaking with the fight for power, only the islander's grim support keeping me upright. Around us, soldiers crouched in uncomprehending terror, watching the deadly shaft of energy. The dragon shrieked, his power splitting and fragmenting. I tasted Ido's sour fury as he struggled to bend me and the dragon to his will, both the beast and I battling the Dragoneye's ruthless command.
Not yet, his voice gasped in my mind.
I felt him channel the blue power away from Sethon, his effort sending shudders of second-hand pain through me. The blue bolt of diverted energy punched into the portico at the far end of the garden, sending marble spinning into the air and raining down on the soldiers underneath. Ido's hold on my mind slipped, the fight to contain his dragon's power ripping at his control. It was my chance to escape. I dug deeper into my Hua, burrowing into the yellow energy of my third point, frantically searching for the strange opalescence that had once saved me from the overwhelming blue. It was there, still tiny, but brighter and glowing gold. I snatched at it, gathering the power into the desperate hold of my mind, and flung it outwards, praying it would find its mark.