I was fairly sure that Kinra’s death plaque was not as dangerous as her swords, but I still did not want to carry it. “Lady Dela, will you keep this for me?” I held out the pouch. “With the journal?”
Dela eyed the offered bag. “Vida, return to the others,” she said, the dismissal firm. “Tell His Majesty that we are soon behind you.”
Vida cast her a curious glance, but headed back toward the forest. As soon as she was gone from sight, Dela reached across, but her hand grasped my wrist instead of the pouch. “What is going on, Eona?”
I pulled back, but she held fast.
“You will not carry the journal, your swords, or your compass,” she said, “and now you want me to take your ancestors’ death plaques. Something is wrong.”
I bit down on my lip. I should have remembered Dela’s keen eyes; after all, she had survived the imperial court through quick wits and insight. I had no doubt she wanted to help me— Dela always wanted to help. Yet telling her about Kinra would be just the same as telling Ryko, and he would go straight to the emperor.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I said. “Nothing is wrong.” Another jerk of my wrist freed me from her grasp. “His Majesty awaits us.”
I pushed the pouch into the deep pocket of Vida’s gown. I would be rid of the ill-fitting dress soon, and with it, Kinra’s plaque.
I arrived at the clearing ahead of Dela. She had dropped a few lengths behind me — the distance, no doubt, a silent rebuke for refusing her help. While we had been gone, the camp had been packed away and the horses saddled. The only signs of our occupation were tamped-down grass and a patch of soft muddy ground around the trees where the horses were tied.
The emperor was waiting. He stood with his arms crossed, the rest of our troop kneeling in a loose semicircle before him.
“Lady Eona.” Kygo waved me to his side.
Had he already told them I was his Naiso? They all watched as I made my way across the grass, but I saw no shock or disapproval.
They did not know yet.
Kygo’s eyes flicked over my body. “You are unhurt?”
“Yes.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Thank you,” I added awkwardly.
Dela’s arrival turned his attention from me. The Contraire sank into a low court bow, murmuring apologies. She dropped to her knees beside Ryko as I joined the emperor. With a small nod, he indicated that I should stand behind him, at his left shoulder.
“Traditional position,” he murmured close to my ear. “You guard my weakest side.” The warmth of his breath raised an answering flush in my cheeks.
None of the six tired faces before me seemed to have registered the symbolism of where I stood. But then, why should they? The old emperor had never appointed a Naiso, and a female advisor was unthinkable.
Ryko’s gaze was still squarely on me, his jaw set. No forgiveness there. Solly was expectant, his ugly face red and shiny from the heat. Vida was smoothing the wet tunic over her thighs, her attention on Kygo. Captain Yuso was his usual watchful self. Next to him, Tiron was excited, but doing his best to copy his superior’s calm confidence. I caught Dela’s quick sideways glance at Ryko; she was worried about the islander. But then, so was I.
“Ever since the palace was taken,” Kygo said, “we have been reacting to my uncle’s strategies. Now it is time for us to act.”
Yuso nodded approvingly.
“You will have noticed the change in the rains and winds,” Kygo continued. “Without the full circle of dragons and their Dragoneyes, our land is not protected from the whims of the weather demons or the angers of the earth.” He glanced back at me. “Nor can Lady Eona control any earth forces by herself. She has no training and, at present, cannot use her power.”
Although his voice was dispassionate, the stark announcement of my failure sent shame through me. I dared not look around the circle; I could feel their disillusion like a thousand pin pricks on my skin.
“Cannot use it at all, Your Majesty?” Yuso asked. I winced at the dismay in the man’s voice.
“Lady Eona needs training,” Kygo said firmly. “This is why we now go to the palace to free Lord Ido.”
No one moved. All I could hear was the hammering of my heart.
“Free Ido?” Ryko finally said. He sat back on his heels. “You want to free that murdering bastard?”
“Yes, we must free Lord Ido.” The emperor’s soft emphasis was a warning.
Ryko ducked his head, but his eyes searched the silent semicircle for support. He found it.
“Your Majesty,” Solly said, bowing, “forgive my blunt speech, but we cannot go near the palace. It is too dangerous. We must rendezvous with the Eastern Resistance, not be sidetracked into a worthless enterprise.”
“It is far from worthless,” Kygo said coldly. “There is more to war than the number of soldiers on each side. A war is won or lost by five fundamentals, and the first and foremost is the Hua-do of the people. If the people’s will is not at one with their ruler, then he will lose the war.”
“Highness,” Tiron said hesitantly. “I am truly stupid, for I cannot see how freeing Lord Ido will win the Hua-do of the people. He is feared, not loved.”
Kygo frowned. “This is the decision I have made. There will be no more discussion.”
“Your Majesty,” I said, “may I speak to you in private?”
I turned away from the startled faces before us and walked a few steps, the emperor matching my pace.
“You may want to explain your reasoning to them,” I said softly.
He shot me a sharp look. “Explain? They should just follow my orders. Discipline is the second fundamental.”
“They will always follow your orders,” I said. “But it will be easier if they are — as you say — at one with you. If they understand your strategy.”
He gave a wry smile. “You use my own words to counsel me, Naiso, yet bring greater wisdom.” He gripped my shoulder. “Win their Hua-do, win the war. Thank you.”
We both looked at his hand resting on the exposed curve of my collarbone. I felt the heat rise to my face again. His other hand found the pearl at his throat, his own color rising around it.
Abruptly he walked back to the troop. I waited a moment longer — until the flush had receded from my face — then followed him. This time, my position by his side was noticed; Dela sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes finding mine. I could not wholly fathom her expression. There was shock, of course, but also something else. Something akin to wonderment.
“There are only two Dragoneyes left alive,” Kygo said. “One is here,” he nodded at me, “the other is held by my uncle. Around us, our land is being rocked by the loss of its Dragoneye protectors. We are already seeing the floods caused by the unchecked monsoon rains. Crops are being ruined, and with that will come starvation and disease. But it will not only be floods and crops. It will be mudslides, tsunamis, cyclones, earthshakes. There will be more destruction, more despair, more death.”
He looked up at the sky. Inexorably, we all lifted our heads, too. A dark bank of low cloud spread from north to south, the warm wind carrying the sweet metallic tang of rain.
“The emperor who brings back the protection of the dragons will win the Hua-do of the people,” Kygo said. “And the emperor who holds the Hua-do will hold the land.” He paused, allowing that implacable truth to find its mark. “This is why we must rescue Lord Ido. We cannot allow my uncle to have a Dragoneye at his command, even one who is under duress. And we must have the two Ascendant Dragoneyes working together to calm the land and show the people that we can protect them.”