Everything but the jewel stitched into her side.
“So you defied your banishment to free your dragon, with little hope of success,” the Unceasing Emperor murmured. “For that, I commend you. And it seems you also found the lost island.” He dabbed his mouth. “Tell me, now—did you happen to come across a mulberry tree on Komoridu?”
Tané looked up and met his bright gaze.
“There was a dead tree,” she said. “Dead and twisted, covered in writing. I did not have time to read it.”
“They say the spirit of Neporo is in the tree. Anyone who eats of its fruit absorbs her immortality.”
“The tree bore no fruit, Majesty.”
A flicker of some nameless emotion crossed his face.
“No matter,” he said, and held out his cup for more tea. A servant refilled it. “Now I know your past, I am curious about your future. What do you intend to do next?”
Tané interlocked her fingers in her lap.
“First,” she said, “I wish to play a part in destroying the Nameless One. After that, I wish to return to Seiiki.” She hesitated. “If Your Imperial Majesty could help me do that, I would be grateful.”
“How might I help you?”
“By writing to the all-honored Warlord on my behalf. If you tell him that I retrieved Nayimathun, a subject of the shining Imperial Dragon, he may hear my case and allow me to return.”
The Unceasing Emperor sipped his tea.
“It is true that you reclaimed a dragon from the Fleet of the Tiger Eye, risking your own life. No easy feat,” he conceded. “To reward your courage, I will do as you request—but know that I cannot permit you to return to Seiiki before I have an answer. It would be remiss of me to allow a fugitive to return there without permission.”
“I understand.”
“Very well.”
He stood and walked to the balustrade. Tané joined him.
“It seems Lord Arteloth desires you to take word to Inys if I agree to his proposal,” the Unceasing Emperor said. “Are you so eager to be my ambassador?”
“It would expedite matters, Majesty. If you would permit a citizen of Seiiki to be your messenger on this occasion.”
The jewel felt heavy at her side. If he refused, she would not be able to make the detour to the South.
“It would be unconventional. You are not my subject, and you are in disgrace,” the Unceasing Emperor mused, “but it seems we are destined for a change in the way of things. Besides, I like to defy convention now and then. No ruler made progress by playing a safe hand. And it keeps my officials on their toes.” Sunlight gleamed in the darkness of his hair. “They never expect us to actually rule, you know. If we do, they call us mad.
“They raise us to be soft as silk, distract us with luxury and wealth beyond measure, so we never rock the boat that carries us. They expect us to be so bored by our power that we let them do the ruling in our stead. Behind every throne is a masked servant who seeks only to make a puppet of the one who sits on it. My esteemed grandmother taught me this.”
Tané waited, unsure of what to say.
The Unceasing Emperor clasped his hands behind his back. A great breath made his shoulders rise.
“You have proven your ability to see difficult tasks to their end, and we have no time to lose,” he said. “If you are willing to be my messenger to the West, as Lord Arteloth wishes, I see no reason to deny it. Since this is a year for breaking tradition.”
“It would be my honor, Your Imperial Majesty.”
“I am pleased to hear it.” He glanced at her. “You must be weary after your journey. Please, go back to your chambers and rest. You will know when I have come to a decision to carry to Sabran.”
“Thank you, Your Imperial Majesty.”
She left him to his breakfast and made her way back into the spiderweb of corridors. With little to do but wait, she took to her bed.
It was deep night when a knock woke her. She opened the door and ushered Loth and Thim inside.
“Well?”
“The all-honored Unceasing Emperor has made his decision,” Thim said in Seiikinese. “He agrees to the proposal.”
Tané shut the door.
“Good,” she said. Loth sank into a chair. “Why does he look so dismayed?”
“Because he has been asked to remain in the palace. I have also been asked to remain, to help direct the navy to where we left the Rose Eternal.”
A small chill went through Tané. For the first time in her life, she would be leaving the East. That thought would have daunted her once, but at least she would not be alone. With Nayimathun beside her, she could do anything.
“Tané,” Loth said, “will you go south before you go to Inys?”
She needed to save Lady Nurtha from the poison. Both jewels must be used against the Nameless One.
“I will,” she said. “Tell me where to find the house of dragonslayers.”
He told her, as best he could.
“You must be careful,” Loth said. “The women there will likely slaughter your dragon if they see her.”
“They will not touch her,” Tané said.
“Ead told me that their present Prioress is not to be trusted. If they catch you, you must speak only to Chassar uq-Ispad. He cares for Ead. I am quite sure he will help you if he knows you mean to heal her.” Loth lifted a chain from around his neck. “Take this.”
Tané took the proffered object. A silver ring. A red jewel was mounted on it, enwheeled by diamonds.
“It belongs to Queen Sabran. If you give it to her, she will know you come from me.” Loth held out a sealed letter. “I ask that you also give her this. So she knows I am well.”
Tané nodded, tucked the ring into her case, and rolled the letter small enough to fit beside it.
“The honored Chief Grand Secretary will meet you in the morning to give you a letter for Queen Sabran from His Imperial Majesty. You will leave this city under cover of darkness,” Thim said. “If you can see this through, Lady Tané, we will all be in your debt.”
Tané looked out of the window. Another journey.
“I will see it done, honorable Thim,” she said. “You can be sure of it.”
64
East
In the morning, the honored Chief Grand Secretary handed Tané the letter she would take to Inys. There would be no embassy sent across the sea, no pomp or ceremony. One dragon and one woman would carry the news.
Her weapons were returned to her. In addition, she received a Seiikinese pistol and a finer sword, as well as a pair of Lacustrine bladed wheels.
She had enough food to last her for two weeks on dragonback. Nayimathun would hunt fish and birds.
When darkness fell over the City of the Thousand Flowers, Tané met Nayimathun in the courtyard. A saddle of black leather, edged with wood and gold lacquer, had been secured on her back, though saddle was far too unassuming a word for it—it was more of an open palanquin, enabling the rider to sleep during a long flight. Such was the secrecy of their assignment that no Lacustrine courtiers or officials were here to witness them leave. Only Thim and Loth had been permitted.
“Good evening, Tané,” Nayimathun said.
“Nayimathun.” Tané patted her neck. “Are you sure you feel strong enough for this journey?”
“I am certain. Besides,” the dragon said, and nudged Tané with her snout, “you seem to have a habit of stumbling into trouble without me.”
A smile warmed her lips. It felt good to smile.
Thim stayed where he was, but Loth approached her. Tané busied herself with securing the pouches that hung from the saddle.
“Tané,” he said, “please tell Queen Sabran that I am safe and well.” He paused. “And if you do wake Ead … tell her that I’ve missed her, and I will see her soon.”
Tané turned to him. There was tension in his face. He was trying, just as she was, not to look afraid.
“I will tell her,” she said. “Perhaps when I return, I can bring her with me.”
“I doubt Ead would ever consent to ride a dragon, even in the service of peace,” Loth said with a chuckle, “but I have been surprised many times this year.” His smile was tired, but true. “Goodbye, and good luck. And”—he hesitated—“goodbye to you, too, Nayimathun.”
“Farewell, man of Inys,” Nayimathun said.
The last light of dusk withdrew from the city. Tané climbed into the saddle and made sure her cloak was wrapped all the way around her body. Nayimathun took off. Tané watched the City of the Thousand Flowers fall away until the palace was a flicker in the sleeping white labyrinth. Cloaked in the darkness of the new moon, they left another capital behind.
They flew over the pearly lakes and the pine trees dressed in white, following the River Shim. The cold kept Tané awake, but made her eyes water.