Eona - Alison Goodman [104]
I licked my lips, trying to find some spittle in my mouth. The last time I’d felt such thirst had been at the salt farm. Dela pointed to a tall, heavily carved recess: its dark alcove held the promise of good concealment and a decent view of the courtyard and cells. With Vida leading, we crept to our new vantage point using the thick columns that fronted the portico as cover. Vida pressed herself into the corner of the deep niche, shifting position until she had a sightline of the cells.
“Let me down,” I whispered against Dela’s ear.
Her head turned, stubbled cheek brushing mine. “Are you sure?”
She had carried me all the way from the servants’ path and the trembling in her shoulders and legs vibrated through me.
“I’ll be all right.” It was more of a hope than a certainty.
She relaxed her arms and let me drop to my feet. For a moment, all was steady—then the world lurched, and a gray haze billowed across my vision.
“She’s going again,” Vida hissed.
Her voice sounded far away. My legs folded.
Dela spun and caught me. “I’ve got you.”
I nodded, although the pain in my arm lodged in my throat like a dry retch. How was I going to get past the cell guards if I could not even stand? Dela gently maneuvered me against the carved wooden wall of the pavilion. With the solid support behind me, I rode the wave of dizziness.
“Rest.” Dela eased me down the wall until I sat on the stone floor. She crouched beside me. “You’re so cold.” Her arm circled my shoulders. The smell of leather and grease rose from the damp heat of her body.
And so the wait for Yuso and Ryko began. Although my body yearned for rest, I tensed at every night noise and flickering shadow. At some point, three lamp-eunuchs filed into the courtyard and lit the large pedestal lanterns set at intervals in a raked pebble border, the flare of each wick accompanied by a chime of thanks from a small prayer bell. Although they did not come near the portico, I still retreated farther into our hiding place, glad of its deep, shadowed embrace. From my position, I could see only one of the two guards posted outside the cell doorway; he wore a leather and iron vest and held a Ji, his dutiful scrutiny of the wide courtyard interrupted by yawns and a bottle shared with his partner. Both bored, then, and open to breaking the rules.
We waited, every passing minute adding another lead weight of fear.
“What if they don’t make it?” Vida finally whispered beside us.
“They will.” Dela was firm. “Ryko will move the heavens to get here.”
A heavy silence settled over us. Vida shifted uncomfortably, her attention still on Dela. She gave a small nod—as if coming to a hard decision—then touched Dela’s arm. “Ryko loves you,” she whispered.
“What?” Dela’s body tensed against mine.
“You love him,” Vida said. “Don’t waste time. Men die fast in war.”
Her eyes flicked to me, their stark sorrow pinning me against the pavilion wall. I looked away from the grief I had caused.
“This is hardly the place,” Dela said through her teeth. She turned back to scanning the courtyard, her disquiet like a thrum through her body.
We all turned at the soft scuff of boots on stone.
Vida half rose, knife in hand. Dela’s arm tightened around my shoulder, ready to lift me, as two dark figures paused in the shadows cast by the columns. But there was no mistaking the broad shape of Ryko, or lean Yuso. Dela’s hold relaxed as Vida beckoned the two men across the portico.
Darting from column to column, Ryko and Yuso made their way toward us. They wore uniforms; no doubt the two soldiers who had joined the dice game were either dead or trussed up somewhere. Hard on them, but a victory for us. We were now three soldiers and two Blossom Women eager to see the Dragoneye in the cells.
“Are you all right?” Ryko whispered to Dela.
I could feel the softening within her at the sound of his voice.
“Lady Eona is hurt,” she reported. “Knife