Eona - Alison Goodman [78]
“And you will see Ryko?”
“I will,” she promised.
“Vida, thank you.” I managed a watery smile. “You are very kind.”
She cocked her head. “I am not that kind. You and the emperor must come to some kind of understanding. All of our lives depend upon it.”
With a bow, she maneuvered the door closed behind her, the gaps in the wood letting in enough light to catch the gold and silver gleam of the fish in the wall hangings.
I stretched out on the bed. Vida’s fine distinctions of trust were a jumble in my head; my mind was too tired to pick through them. The only certainty was that one kiss had snatched Kygo and me from the simpler world of friendship, and we could never go back. Or perhaps it was just I who could not go back. I turned my head, my eyes drawn by the gold of two jumping carp—the traditional symbol of love and harmony. Who was I to think of an emperor in terms of love? I had been a fool.
But as sleep clouded my thoughts, one last notion flickered across my mind in a leap of red and gold: the carp also symbolized perseverance.
“Lady Eona, it is time to wake.”
I opened my eyes and blinked into the soft glow of shielded lamplight, the languor of deep sleep still weighting my body. The figure before me came into focus: Madina. She smiled, the lines around her eyes and mouth deepening in well-worn paths. Beyond her, the open doorway was dark.
“Good evening, my lady.”
“Have I slept the whole day?”
I sat up, all my ease ripped away by the sharp-edged memory of Kygo’s distrust. Every bitter word felt as if it had happened only a minute ago.
“It is just past dusk,” Madina answered. “There is a point when an exhausted body must rest, and you had reached it. My husband did not want you to be woken, even now, but I told him it was time for food.”
She held out a pottery bowl, a meaty steam fragrancing the air between us. My stomach rumbled loudly.
“It seems I was right,” she said, her gentle humor easing my embarrassment.
She placed the bowl in my hands. The first salty sip seemed to reach into every corner of my parched body. I gulped down three large mouthfuls and felt the herbed heat purl through me.
“That’s very good.”
She acknowledged the compliment. “My restorative soup. My husband prescribed it for you.” Her graceful wave urged me to lift the bowl again. “You must gather your strength.”
I looked over the pottery rim. She had something to tell me; the burden of it was in her soft voice. “Is something wrong, Madina?” A knot tightened in my gut, around the warm food. “Is the emperor all right?”
She patted my hand. “The emperor is well enough, although he ignores my husband’s entreaties to sleep.” She smiled, but I could tell there was more. “Finish the soup, please.”
I drained the bowl and handed it back, my eyes not leaving her face.
“What is wrong, Madina?”
She eyed me as if gauging my fortitude. “Two more of your party have been found,” she finally said. “Dela and Solly. They were brought in while you were asleep.”
“Are they alive?” I caught her arm. “Tell me. Is Dela alive?”
“It’s all right, Eona.” Dela’s voice spun me around to face the doorway. “I am here.”
She limped across the room, the lamplight showing dark scrapes and cuts down one side of her face. I caught her outstretched hands, squeezing them too tight in place of the words that were locked in my chest.
“Eona, you are breaking my hands,” she laughed. Her lips were blistered and flaking, her skin reddened from the sun.
“You’ve hurt your leg,” I finally managed to say, easing my hold.
“I was pinned under a tree, but I’m all right.”
“I’m so glad to see you. I had this awful feeling—”
It was her turn to grip tightly. “Eona, it is not all good news,” she said, her smile gone. “Solly is dead. He drowned. Probably in the first rush of water.”
Her words brought a sharp image of the deluge. I had seen Solly go under. I had seen