Eon: Dragoneye Reborn by Alison Goodman

Author:Alison Goodman
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Young Adult, Magic, Fiction, Fantasy, Adventure, Dragons
ISBN: 9781423379560
Publisher: Brilliance Audio
Published: 2008-12-26T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

WHEN RYKO AND I finally reached the pebble garden around my apartments, I was relieved to see only the two corner night-lamps burning, their lights protecting the building from dark spirits—a good sign that no alarm had been raised at my empty bed. We picked our way over the stones to the pale rectangle of my window. The folio was still bound tightly against my forearm, the pearls warm against my skin, as though they held their own Hua.

Soon I’d read the word that would release my power. I had always imagined the name of a dragon would be like the shift of a breeze through leaves, or perhaps the sound of water splashing. But how could that be written?

“Shall I stay, lord?” Ryko asked softly.

I shook my head. Except for essential information, we had not spoken at all on the run back to the palace. The past few hours had stripped away some of our illusions about each other and ourselves. Such bare truth was not easily absorbed. And I wanted to be alone when I read the name.

“Thank you, Ryko,” I said. “For everything.”

He bowed and moved away, only a muffled chink of a pebble marking his careful retreat.

I hoisted myself up over the windowsill and dropped awkwardly onto the thick carpet inside. In a few strides I was beside the covered oil lamp I’d left burning on the bedside table. I pushed up my right sleeve. The cloth snagged on the pearls and folio. Hissing with impatience, I worked the garment over them, my hand shaking with the delay. Finally, the folio was free.

In the lamp’s soft glow, the surface of the black pearls swirled with greens and purples like the sheen of oil on water. Underneath them, the red leather had the supple shine of a seal’s skin, its smoothness marred by the three deep gouges that raked down the front. Holding my breath, I gently lifted the end pearl. There was a small resistance, as though it was weighted, and then it came away from my forearm. One by one each pearl gave up its position, loosening its hold on the folio. I breathed out as I lifted the last pearl that held the text to me. The folio dropped into my hand. In a clicking slither, the pearls coiled loosely around my wrist.

I stroked the gouges on the leather, feeling the rough edges of someone else’s failure. Lord Ido’s? I let a small laugh escape; the pearls had unbound the folio for me, but not for the all-powerful Rat Dragoneye. A leather tongue was threaded through a loop, holding the folio closed. With fingers made clumsy from excitement, I tried to unfasten it but could not work the leather through the hole. Perhaps I had laughed too soon. I rubbed the damp tips of my fingers down my tunic and tried again. At last, the tongue came free. I flipped the leather front open, expecting loose pieces of parchment. Instead, there was a thick wad of smooth paper sewn together at the left edge.

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