Eona - Alison Goodman [79]
“Does Ryko know?” I whispered, ashamed of my arid spirit. “Does Vida?” Both had fought alongside Solly far longer. Perhaps they would have tears enough for us all.
Dela nodded. “They are sitting the ghost watch together.” She countered the flat note in her voice with a squeeze of my hand. She looked across at Madina. “Thank you for your help. Could you leave us, please?”
Dela waited until the woman had backed out of the chamber, then said, “The physician insisted you eat something before I saw you. He said it would buffer the shock to the spirit. Are you all right?”
I bit my lip. It seemed my spirit was in no need of a buffer. “They should have woken me when you arrived.”
She shook her head. “No, they were right to let you sleep. There was nothing you could have done.”
“I could have been there. I could have . . .” I faltered. There was nothing I could have done, and the powerlessness left a bitter taste in my mouth.
Dela stepped closer, gathering me against her body. I buried my face in the hard muscle of her chest. She wore a borrowed tunic and trousers, and had obviously bathed. Still, I caught a shadow scent of mud as she moved. Doubtless the flood was still ingrained in my skin, too. Perhaps its stink would never leave any of us now.
“May Solly’s spirit walk in the garden of heaven,” Dela whispered.
“And his honor live through his line,” I finished. The traditional words did nothing to soothe me.
“There is more I must tell you,” Dela said. “About what happened to me after the water hit us.” She released me and limped to the door, peering outside for a moment before pulling it closed.
Finally, something broke through my numbness: a sharp foreboding. I sat on the bed as she dragged the low stool across the floor and sat opposite me.
“Hold out your arm,” she ordered.
I obeyed. She pressed her large knuckles lightly against mine, then drew up her loose sleeve. The rope of black pearls rattled down her arm. Before I could even flinch, the coils had tightened around my wrist, hauled the red folio over our hands, and bound it to my forearm. I pulled my arm back.
“You know I don’t want to carry it.”
“They recognize you,” she said, ignoring my protest. “Maybe you’ll think I’m mad, but those pearls have a mind of their own. They pulled me out of the water.” She shook her head. “I didn’t imagine it. They saved me from drowning—although they couldn’t do much about the tree that came down on top of me.” She raised an elegant eyebrow. “But you’re not surprised.”
I touched the warm black coils around my arm. “I saw the pearls on the black folio save Dillon. I think both sets of pearls are made of Gan Hua, and are meant to keep the books safe, whatever happens to them.”
“Ah, that would explain it. And whoever is attached to them is kept safe, too.” Dela smiled. “Thank the gods.” The smile faded. “Ryko told me that Dillon and the black folio are missing and the emperor has sent out every able-bodied man to search for them.”
“His Majesty has decided that it is more important to find the black folio than to rescue Ido.”
“Well, he is wrong.” Dela leaned forward. “I was pinned under that tree for many, many hours. Every time I tried to free myself, I made things worse; nearly buried myself alive in mud.” She shuddered. “To keep my mind focused, I tried to decipher more of your ancestor’s folio.”
“You found something?”
Dela licked her cracked lips. “I think I have worked out two coded verses on the first page.”
“What do they say? Show me.” I yanked at the black pearls. The smooth rope released and pooled into my cupped hand, bringing the folio with it. I opened the red leather cover, flicking