Eona (19 page)

“It wasn't mine,” I said, scanning the devastated landscape for something to throw to him. Everything was camouflaged by a thick layer of brown slime. My eyes skipped over the dead horse and soldier, then flicked back. The
Ji
.

“You mean it was all the boy's power?” Yuso was talking softly but rapidly, holding back fear with words.

“No, it was the black book,” I said. “It bound us together.”

I felt an echo of the book's burning power in my mind. Without Kinra, I would not have survived its onslaught. My breath caught; did I still have her plaque? I plunged my hand into the slimy pocket of my gown. The pouch was there, still safe.

Gingerly, I edged across the mud to the dead soldier, testing each oozing foothold. What if he wasn't quite dead? What if he had become one of the
Halbo
, a demon spirit of the drowned? I lowered myself into a wary crouch beside the body, but it did not move or clack its teeth.

“So the binding is true, then.” Yuso's voice abruptly stopped. I spun on my heel, terrified he had gone under, but his head and shoulders were still clear. “What are you doing?” he whispered.

“I'm getting this
Ji
to pull you out.”

“No, it's too dangerous. Leave me. There's time for you to climb to safety.”

I wrapped my hand around the handle and yanked it free from the soldier's grip. The man's hand lifted and slapped back down, as if he were blessing me. Shuddering, I whispered a quick call to Shola on his behalf, then carefully retraced my own safe footprints back to Yuso.

The captain was watching me, anguish written in deep creases of mud on his thin face. Hurriedly, I extended the pole across the mire until the handle hovered near him.

“Grab it. Quickly.”

I glanced up at the slopping mud fall behind him. It was flowing into the hole, raising the level.

He caught the wavering wood. “I will be too heavy for you.”

“I am strong,” I assured him, although the same doubt had blown its cold breath on me. He was lean for a Shadow Man— the Sun Drug issued to the eunuch guards usually built more bulk—but he was still tall and well muscled. “Don't worry,” I added. “I won't leave you.”

He flinched as a heavy branch fell beside him, splattering his face with more mud. I tested the ground with my toes and found a section that was not too soft. Working my heels into it, I wiped a length of the pole clean.

“Ready?” I asked.

He nodded.

Taking a resolute breath, I hauled on his weight at the end of the long pole, careful to keep the hooked blade away from me. I felt a small shift. I heaved again, and again, inching backward through the stiff mud. Suddenly his other arm swung free, dripping with sludge. He grabbed the pole with both hands.

“Keep going,” he urged.

I dug my heels into the mud again and pulled as he pains- takingly lifted one hand and placed it above the other on the pole. Panting, Yuso smiled across at me. I smiled back—it was working. On his nod, I heaved again as he dragged himself along another hand-length. Every muscle in my arms and back burned with the strain of holding his weight, but his chest was almost out of the hole.

He lifted his hand again, but this time tried to reach too far. His grip slipped. The sudden loss of his weight on the pole yanked me to my knees. I saw him slide backward, groping wildly for purchase. Instinctively, I braced knees and toes in the mud and anchored the
Ji
. His hand connected and gripped.

“Got it?” I gasped.

“Yes.” He pressed his forehead into the crook of his arm, gulping deep breaths. “How's that ridge holding?” he finally asked.

“Not that good,” I said. “Ready?”

He lifted his head. “Lady Eona, I cannot—” He stopped, his eyes bleak. “I have a son. His name is Maylon. Find him, tell him—”

“Yuso.” I caught his gaze, holding him steady, although my own doubt pounded through me. “I'm not leaving until you're out of there.”

With a nod, he clenched his teeth and once again started the laborious hand-by-hand crawl up the pole. I heaved back on his weight over and over, finding a rhythm in between each desperate handhold that gave him precious impetus. Gradually, his chest and waist emerged. When his hips finally breached the sucking mud, I dropped the
Ji
and slithered toward him on hands and knees. Grabbing his outstretched hands, I pulled him free. In a clumsy mix of sliding, dragging, and crawling, we made our way back to secure ground.

Yuso turned to study the ridge, then gave a soft grunt of relief. “It is still holding, but we should get out of here.” He stood up and tested his right leg. A large tear in the thigh of his mudsoaked trousers was dark with blood.

“Is it bad?” I asked.

He dismissed it with a shake of his head. “I can walk.” He offered me his hand and pulled me upright. My own legs were trembling with the afterwash of effort. And fear.

“Did you see what happened to the emperor?” I asked, as he ushered me forward. “Or any of the others?”

Yuso shook his head.

“What if …?” I couldn't voice the possibility.

“If His Majesty is dead, then it is all over,” Yuso said flatly. He picked up the
Ji
. “There is no reason for a resistance.”

“But Sethon can't be emperor. He will destroy the thousand years of peace.”

“Whatever way it goes, the thousand years of peace are over,” Yuso said.

Using the blade at the end of the pike to test the ground, he limped toward the horse and soldier. I wanted to deny his bleak assessment, but the ache in my chest knew he was right. I followed his footprints across the firmer mud.

“Did you say you have a son, captain?” I asked, trying to focus on something other than our tortuously slow progress through the sludge.

He turned, his eyes narrowed. “It would be better for both of us if you forgot I said that.”

“Why?”

“It is forbidden—on pain of death—for an Imperial Guard to have family ties.” He held my gaze. “Do you understand?
No one else
must know of my son.”

I nodded. “I swear on my dragon I will not tell anyone. But how did you become a father?”

Yuso turned back to navigating the treacherous ground. “I was not born a eunuch, my lady.” He stopped in front of the dead soldier and peered into the man's slack face. “I sired my son before I was cut. I was very young.”

A few limped steps took him to the horse. He bent and stroked the animal's mud-caked neck. “One of our mares, poor girl.” He looked up at the ridge, gauging its stability, then unbuckled the saddlebag and heaved it free. “His mother died when he was born—may she walk in heaven's glory—so he is my only family.”

“He must be very precious to you.”

“He is now a lieutenant in Sethon's army.”

I looked down at the soldier, my spine prickling. “Is he stationed in this area?”

Yuso dug the
Ji
into the mud.

“I don't know where he is,” he said. He slung the saddlebag over his shoulder. “That is what this war will be: father against son, brother against brother.” He scanned the stark landscape, then pointed east and beckoned me onward. “It is our duty to restore peace as soon as possible at whatever cost—otherwise there will be no land to rule.” He glanced back, his lean face grim. “You will come to know that, my lady, and I am sorry for it.”

We were climbing the other side of the gully when the ridge came down.

It dropped in a crashing roar, the terrible sound bouncing off the rock faces around us in a rolling echo. We both stopped and watched the deadly churn of mud and debris slide across the valley below us. It smothered everything in its path and sent the stink of wet earth and decay into the air.

I felt Yuso's hand grip my shoulder in sympathy. “We can't go back and look,” he said, answering my unspoken question. “It will be too dangerous—and whatever came down with that is already dead.”

“We survived,” I said mutinously.

“Let's keep doing so,” he said, his grip shifting from compassion to command.

Just before nightfall, Yuso grabbed my shoulder again.

“Stop!” he whispered, the word barely audible under the screeching night calls of roosting birds.

My last reserves of energy coiled into tense readiness. I scanned the spindly trees and tall bushes around us—all threatening in the half-light—and hooked my hand more securely around the saddlebag. It was not much of a weapon, but it could catch the end of a soldier's
Ji
.

As if formed from dusk shadows, the shapes of six men stepped from the dark undergrowth. Silently, they circled us, a mix of swords and axes raised. Yuso's hand slid down the
Ji
, ready to thrust.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

A thin man with straggly, unbound hair shook his head. “Six against two.” His voice had a soft mountain accent. “I think the question is: Who are
you?”

“Captain Yuso, of the imperial guard.”

His name sent a ripple of excitement around the circle of men. I felt their attention shift to me. I gripped the saddlebag even tighter.

“Are you Lady Eona?” the thin man asked.

“Yes.”

“Thank the gods you are alive.” His teeth showed in a quick, relieved smile. The weapons around us lowered. “We are from the Chikara Mountain Resistance. I am Caido. It is an honor to be the ones to find you, Lady Dragoneye.”

He bowed, the other five following his lead in a ragged wave.

“Thank you,” I said, swaying from the sudden release of tension. “Have you found the emperor?”

“Yes. He is alive, but deep in the shadow world. When we were last at our base, he had still not roused. We need to get you back there as fast as possible.”

My gut clenched. At least he lived. “And the others, are they all right?”

“Ryko has minor injuries. As does the woman, Vida. The young guard has—”

“Tiron,” Yuso interjected.

“Yes, sir, Tiron,” Caido said. “He's broken a lot of bones and may not walk again. We have not found the other three of your party.”

Dela, Dillon, Solly—missing.

“So the boy has not been found?” Yuso demanded. “The one they call Dillon?”

“No, sir. Not yet.”

“He must be your priority now,” Yuso said. “He holds something vital to His Majesty's cause.”

“We can only search with the light, Captain.” There was a note of defense in Caido's soft voice. “But we start again tomorrow at dawn. Are either of you hurt?”

“Nothing serious,” Yuso said. “Did Ryko tell you about the troops in pursuit? Twenty-four. A full company.”

Caido nodded. “We've accounted for nineteen, sir. Most of them drowned. Our best teams are hunting the last five.”

Yuso nodded, satisfied.

Caido gave another small bow, then turned to his men. A quick series of hand signals sent them into a diamond formation around us, except for one very large man, who stood stolidly behind Caido.

“My lady, we need to move fast,” Caido said. “Would you allow Shiri to carry you on his back?” The large man dipped his head.

Although my weariness was like a hundredweight hanging on each limb, I drew myself up. “I will not fall behind, Caido.”

“No, my lady,” he said, and bowed.

He waved us forward.

An hour later, I was perched on Shiri's back. The man smelled of old sweat, greasy hair, and sour spillings, but I did not care. His back was broad, his arms were hooked securely around me, and I could finally rest my exhausted body. I tried to stay awake as we climbed through the last of the scrubby terrain into a thicker growth of forest, but the rocking motion of Shiri's long stride lulled me. As I slipped into the shadows of uneasy sleep, I once again felt the intent hold of Kygo's eyes as he brushed my cheek, and the strange heat of the pearl beneath my fingers.

“My lady?” A firm shake on my arm woke me. I squinted. The half-moon night had reduced Caido's face to a series of sharp planes. “You must walk the last section,” he said quietly. “Only one person can pass through this entrance at a time.”

Shiri released his hold and lowered me gently to the rocky ground. The forest was now well below us.

“Thank you,” I murmured.

The big man dipped into a bow. “My honor, Lady Eona,” he said, backing away. “My honor.”

“He will tell his grandchildren about the time he carried the Mirror Dragoneye,” Yuso said, close to my ear.

“How long did I sleep?” I stared up at an immense moon- silvered cliff that rose before us. Were we going to climb it? Even after my rest on Shiri's back, I doubted I would make it.

“We've been walking for about four bells,” Yuso said, every step of them in his rough voice.

Caido pointed up to a dark crack in the rock face. “We are nearly there,” he said. “That is the way into our camp.”

As we drew nearer to the cliff, the dark crack became a fissure large enough for a man the size of Shiri. With a reassuring smile, Caido slipped into it. I followed him, the warm night air instantly cooling as I stepped into a narrow stone passage. A slit of sky was still visible above us, although very little moonlight made it to where we stood.

“My lady, please hold on to my shoulder,” Caido said. “It will be safer and quicker.”

We shuffled in a hand-to-shoulder line as Caido called the news of our rescue to watchmen stationed on high ledges. I caught sight of two guards craning over to catch a glimpse of us as we passed, the tips of their mechanical bows outlined in the dim light. It would be a deadly trap for an approaching enemy.

“This is one of four passages into the crater,” Caido said. “Of course, it is not the most accessible, but it was the closest and will give you a good view of our camp.” His voice was quick with pride.

Ahead, I could see the other end, gray with light. Kygo was somewhere in this camp, hurt. And Ryko and Vida. My toes clipped Caido's heels. I stumbled.