Eona - Alison Goodman [106]
Yuso was a convincing liar.
The older sentry shook his head. “My apologies, honored Leopard. As you must know, it is not possible.” He wore a Bear ranked badge, lower than Yuso’s stolen seventh-rank uniform.
Yuso grinned. “Come on, I’ve heard otherwise,” he said. “Don’t disappoint the girls. We promised them.” He caught Vida by the waist and pulled her against him. She squealed and giggled. “Say please, Dara.”
“Please,” Vida said. “Let us go on. We could make it worth your while . . . afterward.”
Bear looked across at his younger partner badged with a Snake, the lowest rank.
“We get off in a quarter bell, sir,” Snake murmured. He eyed Vida and smiled.
“That one looks sick,” Bear said, jerking his head at me. I felt Ryko’s arm pull me closer.
Dela snorted. “Sela chases the dragon a bit hard, don’t you, sweetheart?”
I smiled dreamily and lolled my head against Ryko’s chest. With the courtyard pitching around me, it was not hard to emulate the boneless distraction of a dragon chaser.
Bear peered more closely at my face. “Is she a real Peony?” Suspicion colored his voice. “A real Peony costs a Tiger coin.”
“Of course she’s not,” Dela said quickly. “We can’t afford a real Peony.”
“What is she doing in Peony makeup, then?” Bear shifted his Ji forward.
I felt Ryko’s heart quicken through the padding of his vest. For all of our planning, we had not prepared a reason why a Peony would be with low-ranked soldiers.
With the dregs of my strength, I mustered a high-pitched giggle and raised my head. “It’s an extra half-coin for the makeup. I do Orchids, too. That’s a full coin, but it includes a dance.” Clumsily I circled my hips, glad of Ryko’s arm bracing me.
“A dance?” Young Snake said, his eyes lingering on my body.
I summoned another smile. “Not boring dances like the real Orchids. A real dance.”
Bear cleared his throat, his eyes cutting to his subordinate. “We could never afford such attentions, even at that price.” He scratched his chin. “Not on our very, very low pay.” He made the statement a question.
Yuso smiled. “How much, then, to see the Dragoneye?”
“A sixth. Per person,” Bear said promptly.
“Outrageous,” Yuso countered. “A twelfth per person.”
“Done.” Bear licked his lips and exchanged a smug glance with Snake. “Keep it short, though. We’re relieved at the full bell.”
Yuso handed over the coins, the ringing clink of their fall like one of the small prayer chimes.
Bear opened the wooden door and peered into the dimly lit chamber. “Got five for you. They’ve paid.”
He stepped back, ushering us in with a broad smile. “Enjoy.”
Yuso entered first with Vida, her giggling thanks diverting the guards’ attention. As Ryko and I followed them over the raised threshold, Dela quickly stepped behind us and threw her arms over our shoulders; the embrace of a drunken friend, and a shield for my bloodied arm.
We were inside. As the wooden door shut, the rush of relief made me stumble. Dela caught my upper arm and pulled me into the support of her body. I remembered to giggle, but a freeze of fear locked in my gut. Ido was so close . . . and I could barely stand on my own. Did I have enough strength to help him? To even help myself?
“A few rules.” The harsh voice came from a squat, jowled man behind a desk in the corner of the small chamber. Every one of his features—lips, nose, even eyelids—was overly thick, as though swollen with water. “You can only look through the door bars. And only two at a time. Got it?”
With a grunt, he pushed himself out of his chair and reached for a lamp hanging from a hook in the wall behind him—one of two handsome bronze lanterns that cast good light over the desk’s orderly collection of scrolls, pens, and a deeply grooved ink block. Nearby, a small ceramic stove held glowing coals, the bitterness of burned rice and over-brewed tea barely covering another smell that made my stomach turn—the sour stink of suffering.
He held the lamp close