Alison Goodman: Eon: Dragoneye Reborn

My master's body stiffened. 'What are you doing here?'

'I was told you wished to see me, Master,' I said, crouching lower. There was still no pain.

'Why are you back so early?'

'Swordmaster Ranne said I need not train any more,' I said carefully

'You should not be in here. Especially not now. The energies are too strong.' He stood up in a single practised movement, the frayed silver embroideries on his tunic flaring in the sun.

'Come, we must leave now.'

He held out his hand. I hurried forwards and extended my arm, bracing myself as he leaned on me and stepped off the platform.

He paused, still holding my arm. 'Do you feel them?' he asked.

I looked up into his gaunt face, the prominent bones made even starker by his shaved skull.

'Feel them?'

'The energies.' Irritation edged his voice.

I bowed my head. 'I can feel the flow of water energy to the viewing platform,' I said.

He flicked his fingers. A novice could feel that. Is there nothing else?'

'No, Master.' It was not the truth, but how could I explain the heat of an imagined shadow? Or the soft unravelling that was the absence of pain.

He grunted. 'Then perhaps we have succeeded.'

He turned and walked quickly towards the house. I followed two paces behind, concentrating on keeping my footing on the

shifting pebbles. For once, each step did not jar with pain. We passed a simple Moon altar — a smooth concave stone resting on two smaller rocks — surrounded by a shallow amphitheatre of cut marble. Ahead, the pebble path widened in front of another viewing platform that also served as a step up to the house. Two carved doors stood open, allowing a view of floor-to-ceiling scroll boxes, a cabinet and a dark-wood desk. My master's library — another area forbidden to me. Until now. I paused, staring at the shelves of scrolls. My master had drilled me in my letters and I'd read all of the Classics and Dragoneye texts, but I longed to read about other things.

'Don't just stand there gaping like a fool,' my master said, holding out his hand.

I helped him onto the platform as Rilla, Chart's mother and my master's body servant, stepped out of the library and kneeled at the doorway For the first time I noticed the swirls of grey hair in the neat loop of her 'unmarried' braid. It was meant to be her disgrace, but she wore it with quiet dignity My master extended one foot and she slid off his scuffed silk slipper, then the other, placing them neatly on a small woven mat.

'We are not to be disturbed,' my master ordered. He held out his hand and I helped him over the lip of the threshold.

Rilla looked up at me and raised her eyebrows. I twitched my shoulder into a shrug, then hurriedly pulled off my woven straw sandals, grabbing the doorframe for balance. Black dirt striped my feet around the pattern of the straps. I licked my fingers and rubbed the top of each foot, but the dirt just smeared into streaks.

'Stay still,' Rilla said softly. She took a cloth out of her pocket and wiped my left ankle.

'You don't need to do that,' I said, trying to pull my foot away No one had touched my bad leg since the splints had come off three years ago.

She held my foot still. 'A Dragoneye has servants,' she said.

'Best get used to it.' She scrubbed my other foot clean. 'Now give me your sandals and go in.'

Four years ago, when I came to my master's house — a half-starved drudge willing to become a boy for food and warmth — Rilla was the only person who showed me any care. At first I thought it was because I was a cripple, like her son, but later I realised she desperately needed my master to have a successful candidate. 'No one else will have us in their house,' she once told me, stroking Chart's dusty hair. 'I've seen a lot of boys come through here, Eon, but you're our best chance. "You're special.' At the time I thought she had guessed the secret, but she hadn't. And even if she did know, she would never say anything. Rilla was bound too tightly to my master, his tolerance of Chart a hundred times more compelling than any bond of indenture.

I handed her the sandals, smiling my thanks. She shooed me into the library

'Close the doors, Eon,' my master said. He was standing at the cabinet sorting through the keys he wore around his neck on a length of red silk.

I pulled shut the doors and waited for further instruction. He looked up and nodded at the visitor's chair in front of the desk.

'Sit down,' he said, shaking a key free.

Sit down? In a chair? I watched him insert the key into the lock. Had I heard correctly? I crossed the soft, thick carpet and gingerly laid my hand on the back of the chair, waiting for a reprimand. Nothing. I glanced across at my master. He had a leather pouch and a small black ceramic jar in his hands.

'I said sit down,' he ordered, closing the cabinet doors.

I perched on the very edge of the leather seat, my hands tight around the carved armrests. I had always imagined a chair would be comfortable, but it was hard against my rump bones and made my hip ache again. I shifted around, trying to recapture the warm ease I'd felt in the garden, but it was gone. I looked at the closed double doors, imagining the stark landscape outside. Did the

garden take my pain? Did its Moon energies call to my hidden self? I shivered. My master was right: I could not afford to enter it again. Not so close to the ceremony On the desk in front of me were two small, black lacquered death plaques. I tried to read the names carved into the wood, but I could not make sense of the upside-down characters. I quickly looked away from them as my master sat in the chair opposite me. He placed the leather pouch and jar next to the two memorials.

'So it is tomorrow,' he said.

I nodded, keeping my eyes fixed on the desk.

'You are prepared.'

It was a statement, not a question, but I nodded again. An image of old Armsmaster Hian flashed through my mind. Now was the time to ask my master about the Reverse Horse Dragon Second.

'I went to a ghost-maker today' my master said softly.

I was so startled I looked up and met his eyes. A ghost-maker dealt in herbs and potions and, it was said, in the spirits of the unborn.

'She gave me this.' He pushed the pouch towards me. 'If it is taken as a tea every morning, it will stop the Moon energy But it can only be taken for three months. Then it becomes poison to the body'

I hunched down in the chair.

'Your Moon cycle must be stopped for these ceremonies,' he continued. And if you succeed tomorrow, then —'

'I am about to bleed,' I whispered.

'What?'

'I have all the signs.' I ducked my head lower. 'It's early. I don't know why'

I saw my master's hands clench the edge of the table. It was as though his anger weighted the air between us.

'Have you started?'

'No, but I have the —'

He held up his hand. 'Quiet.' I watched his long fingers tap the wood. 'If it has not started, then all is not lost. She said it was to be taken before your next cycle starts.' He picked up the pouch. 'You must take a cup now'

He leaned back and pulled on the bell cord hanging behind the desk. Almost immediately the far door opened. Rilla stepped in and bowed.

'Tea,' he said. Rilla bowed again and stepped out, closing the door.

'I'm sorry, Master,' I said.

'It would be most unfortunate if the whims of your body undid four years of planning.' He steepled his fingers. 'I do not know why you have the gift of full dragon sight, Eon. It must be some plan of the gods. How else can I explain my impulse to test a girl on my search for a candidate? It goes against all that is natural.' He shook his head.

I knew he was right; women did not have power. Or if they did, it was from the shapeliness of their body. Not from their spirit. And certainly not from their mind.