Alison Goodman - Eon - Dragoneye Reborn

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Eon has been studying the ancient art of Dragon Magic for four years, hoping he'll be able to apprentice to one of the twelve energy dragons of good fortune. But he also has a dark secret. He is actually Eona, a sixteen-year-old girl who has been living a dangerous lie for the chance to become a Dragon-eye, the human link to an energy dragon's power. It is forbidden for females to practice the Dragon Magic and, if discovered, Eon faces a terrible death. After a dazzling sword ceremony, Eon's affinity with the twelve dragons catapults him into the treacherous world of the Imperial court, where he makes a powerful enemy, Lord Ido. As tension builds and Eon's desperate lie comes to light, readers won't be able to stop turning the pages…

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'But you have more raw power than all of the Dragoneyes combined,' he continued. And tomorrow that power will attract the Rat Dragon.'

I looked away, trying to hide a sudden rising of doubt. What if my master was wrong?

He leaned closer. 'When he chooses you, there is a bargain that must be made. There is no advice I can give you — the bargain is different between every dragon and his new apprentice. However, I can tell you that the dragon will seek an energy in you that he wants, and when he takes it, you will be united.'

'What kind of energy, Master?'

As I said, it is different for everyone. But it will be linked to one of the seven points of power in the body'

My master had taught me about the points of power: seven balls of invisible energy that were positioned in a line from the base of the spine to the crown of the head. They regulated the flow of Hua, the life force, through the physical and emotional body. It seemed that the whispers around the candidate school were true — a Dragoneye did give up some of his life force. No wonder they aged so fast.

'When I was chosen by the Tiger Dragon,' my master continued, 'the bargain I made was the energy that no man gives up lightly' His gaze met mine then slid away. 'So be prepared — it will not be easy. You cannot gain the dragon's power without giving something valuable in return.'

I nodded, although I did not truly understand.

And then when your bargain is made and you are the Rat Dragoneye apprentice, we must be even more careful. You cannot place a foot wrong, Eon, or we will both die.'

There was fear and hope in his eyes, and I knew he saw the same in mine. The far door opened again. My master sat back as Rilla entered, carrying a black lacquer tray laid with tea implements. She placed the tray on the desk.

'Only Eon will be taking a bowl,' my master said.

Rilla bowed, unrolled a round gold mat and arranged it in front of me. It was a representation of the Dragoneye compass, intricately painted with the twenty-four circles of energy manipulation. As a candidate, I had been drilled in the first and second circles of the compass

— the cardinal points and the dragon-animal signs — but only apprentices studied how to use the other circles. I leaned closer and touched the painted Rat near the top of the second circle, sending out another silent plea to the Rat Dragon: choose me. Then, to complete my private petition, I swept my fingers around the twelve painted animals in the direction of their yearly rising. Rat, Ox, Tiger, Rabbit, Dragon…

Rat turns, Dragon learns, Empire burns.

The harsh, echoing words stabbed through my mind, searing into my gut. I gasped and jerked back my hand as Rilla set a red drinking bowl in the centre of the mat. Her eyes flicked to mine, wide with concern.

'What are you doing, Eon?' my master snapped.

'Nothing, Master.' I ducked my head in apology, pressing my hand against my belly. Why had such a strange rhyme come to mind? Was it something I'd read in one of the Dragoneye texts?

They were full of strange sayings and bad verse.

'Well, sit still.'

'Yes, Master.' I took a careful breath. Only an echo of the stabbing pain remained. I had never had such sharp cramps before — maybe the ghost-maker's tea would ease them. Rilla lifted a small brazier of hot coals from the tray and placed it on the desk, setting a pot of steaming water over the heat.

'I will prepare the tea,' my master said.

A shivering unease twitched across my back. Rilla nodded and positioned a larger mixing bowl with a small bamboo whisk in front of him. He waved his hand towards the door. 'You may go.'

She bowed and backed out of the room.

My master waited until the door snapped shut, then picked up the pouch and untied the leather fastening.

'You must only use one pinch per bowl.' He dropped a grey-green powder into the mixing bowl. And do not use boiling water or you will destroy the power of the herb.' He lifted the pot off the brazier and poured a small amount of water into the bowl. With a few flicks of the bamboo whisk, the tea was mixed.

'Give me your bowl.'

I passed it over. He deftly transferred the murky liquid and passed it back.

'The ghost-maker said it was best taken in one swallow.'

I eyed the dark surface of the tea, watching my reflection slide and settle.

'lake it.'

The bowl smelled of damp leaves and decay No wonder it was best taken in one swallow. The oily bitterness washed through my mouth. I closed my eyes, fighting the urge to spit.

My master gave a nod. 'Good.'

I put the empty bowl back onto the gold mat. My master tightened the leather cord around the pouch and passed it across the table.

'Keep it hidden.'

I slipped it into my pocket, next to the cheese and bread. I knew how to keep secrets.

'I have also prepared your way with the Council,' my master said. 'Do you know what this is?'

He tapped the sealed top of the black ceramic jar.

'No, Master.'

He turned it around slowly and the white painted characters of my name twisted into view.

'It is a vessel of proof,' he said. 'On the records of the Council you are a Moon Shadow.'

I stared at him. Somehow, my master had registered me as a Moon eunuch: a boy castrated before puberty for family advancement and opportunity. Such boys were never touched by manhood, forever retaining the physical form of their youth. I leaned closer to the eunuch jar.

I had never seen one before, but I knew that sealed inside was the mummified proof of the operation. Without it, a Shadow Man could not gain employment or promotion. If he was not buried with it at death, he would have no chance of returning to wholeness in the next world.

What Shadow Man would give up such a precious thing? There was only one answer: one who was already dead.

'Master,' I whispered, 'surely this will bring bad luck.'

He frowned. 'It will ensure that your size and voice will not be remarked,' he said firmly. 'And any evil spirits have been well placated with coin.' He picked up the jar, motioning to a new layer of wax around the lid. 'According to the records, yon have already been examined and pronounced a true Shadow When you are chosen tomorrow and move into the Rat Dragon Hall, you will no longer be under my protection. You must use this Shadow status and your deformity to ensure no one sees you unclothed.'

I bowed my head. It was bad luck to bathe or sleep in the same quarters as a cripple. And a crippled eunuch would bring even worse fortune. My master had thought of everything. But there was still one problem.

'Master?'

'Yes?' He put the jar back onto the desk.

'I spoke to Armsmaster Hian today. He wished to be remembered to you.' I jammed my fingers together on my lap.

He nodded. 'I hope you thanked him for his courtesy'

'Ifes, Master.' I swallowed, a sudden dryness grabbing at my voice. 'He —'

My master pushed the two death plaques across the desk. 'Your ancestors,' he said abruptly.

'For your prayers tonight. They are only women, but they are better than nothing.'

It took me a moment to realise what he had said. 'My ancestors?'

One plaque was inscribed with the name Charra, the other, Kinra. I lifted my hand to touch them, but stopped, glancing at my master for permission.

'They are yours,' he said, nodding. 'I retrieved them from your previous master. When he bought your bond from your parents, your mother insisted the memorials stay with you.'

I stroked the smooth surface of the Charra plaque, the name and a plain border the only adornment. My mother had given these to me. A choking mix of warmth and pain rushed through me, leaving an old pang of loss. I clenched my teeth against the threat of tears. The Kinra plaque was old and worn with a faint sinuous outline of an animal under the name. Who were these women? My grandmother? My great-grandmother?

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