The Dragon's Eye

by Sarwat Chadda

  Meilin felt a strange, peaceful energy radiating out with her words. The hairpin. Her connection to Jhi, the Peacefinder, had imbued their bond token with an uncanny ability to calm the anguished. This was how Meilin had finally overcome Kana—not with blows, but with words. It was Jhi’s greatest gift.

  And it wasn’t working.

  Song screamed and launched forward.

  Song’s blows rained down, but they were clumsy and unfocused. All skill and tactics vanished in her rage. A twist, a deflection, a side step robbed Song of their power, while Meilin came in close, denying the empress her most powerful kicking attacks.

  Meilin needed the Dragon’s Eye.

  A wrist lock forced Song to her knees. “Drop the Eye, Song,” Meilin said. “Drop it!” She added a little more pressure, and Song screamed. “Just drop it and this can all be over!”

  “Meilin! Look out!”

  She turned toward the cry. Abeke stood, balanced perilously on a shard of rock, pointing to the sea.

  Meilin looked.

  Song’s water dragon rose up out of the water, jaws widening as he bore down on her.

  Seaspray had come to save his partner.

  The distraction was enough for Song to twist free. She stumbled away. “Kill her! Kill her!”

  Meilin leaped off the rock a second before the water dragon slammed down. The stone disintegrated, and Meilin was lost to the churning sea.

  Wave after wave pummelled Meilin. She couldn’t break out of the water! Her lungs burned as she tried to hold on to her breath, but it was getting harder. She didn’t have any strength left. The surface, the air, was just beyond her fingertips, but her legs wouldn’t push her up the few feet she needed.

  The wake generated by the water dragon twisted her over and over, sending her crashing against one rock and then another; the ragged corners tore at her skin.

  Her arms hung limply in the water. She couldn’t do any more.

  Meilin raised her head, feebly, toward the surface. Lightning flashed across the sky and a huge shadow passed overhead. She tried, one last time, to reach up, but her limbs felt as heavy as lead.

  Her friends needed her.…

  Powerful fingers grabbed hold of her collar and locked tightly around the material. Then she was hauled out of the water with a roar.

  Meilin gasped, filled her chest with the salty air, as Rollan flew her gently to the cliff ledge where Abeke was waiting.

  Meilin rolled over, coughing out water.

  Rollan held her hand as she did. “Interesting technique. Were you hoping to drink the entire sea?”

  Despite herself, Meilin laughed. “Thank you.”

  “Of course,” Rollan said, his voice gentle. “Don’t scare me like that.” Meilin realized his hand was shaking. She squeezed it, and he squeezed back.

  “It’s not over yet,” Abeke said. She and Rollan lifted Meilin back to her feet.

  Conor and Briggan continued fighting the water dragon, with Song now riding upon his back.

  The two didn’t have a chance.

  Seaspray lashed out with his tail and knocked Briggan across the water. The wolf spun over the surface like a skipping stone before Conor called him into passive.

  Conor tried to climb up after Song, but the dragon buckled, flipping him off. He splashed down, disappearing for a few heart-freezing moments, before breaking the surface. Using his shepherd’s crook as a float, he paddled toward cover.

  “Watch yourself,” said Abeke as she pulled Meilin against the cliff wall.

  Rocks fell past them.

  “This whole cliff’s coming down,” said Rollan. “And the palace with it. It’s right above us.”

  The cliff shook again, and the sound of it drowned out the thunder.

  But not the lightning. Song appeared just off the cliff, outlined in the brilliant flashes. Song glared from her high seat on the dragon’s shoulders.

  She’s beyond help, Meilin realized bleakly. All she has now is blind anger.

  All she has …

  “Song!” Meilin cried. “Come get me, you coward!”

  “Meilin …” warned Rollan. “We’ve got to go. Now.”

  Meilin ignored the pebbles falling all around her. The cliff was coming down.

  She cupped her hands and shouted. “Your father may have been cruel, but you’ve become everything you hated about him! You seized the throne by treachery! All you have is through lies and betrayal! What kind of empress will you be?”

  Abeke grabbed her wrist and glared at her. “Meilin! We need to get off this ledge!”

  The cliff began tilting. The palace above cracked, a large chunk of wall missing them by mere inches.

  Song screamed with pure, incoherent fury. The water dragon lurched toward them, determined to finish off Meilin once and for all.

  That’s it …

  “Meilin!” yelled Rollan. “Take my hand!”

  The thunder was deafening, but it wasn’t from the storm. The rocks above them roared angrily.

  Massive chunks of marble, granite, and earth came tumbling down. Abeke and Rollan were right beside her, yelling, but Meilin couldn’t hear them over the noise. This was how the world ended.

  The water dragon plowed through the waves. Song glared at Meilin, her hatred consuming her.

  “Come on …” muttered Meilin.

  Seaspray opened his immense jaws and gave out a deep, dreadful roar.

  He rose up. Ten feet, then twenty.

  “We’re going!” Rollan locked his arms around Meilin’s waist. Abeke prepared to leap.

  The water dragon towered over them. Song’s face was lit by lightning. The wind whipped all around her. She was wild, the Dragon’s Eye burning in her hands with a malevolent light.

  Then she glanced up, and Song’s expression twisted from one of rage to terror.

  The cliff collapsed.

  Abeke leaped from the cliff. Rollan pulled Meilin close and flew.

  Song gave a single cry, but it was immediately drowned out by the cataclysmic sound of the entire cliff coming down. The palace tumbled in an avalanche of marble and dirt.

  Abeke bounced from one boulder to another, then up onto a ledge wide enough to support her. “Come on!” she ordered as she raced up the broken remains of the path.

  Rollan held tightly to Meilin as he followed, the wind whipping his cloak behind them. Meilin looked back, catching glimpses of the destruction behind the billowing cloth.

  The water dragon thrashed in blind fury as countless tons of cliff fell down upon him. There was no sign of Song.

  No matter how mighty the dragon was, Seaspray couldn’t withstand the onslaught of rock. The dragon vanished as a huge cloud of dust exploded onto the surface of the water.

  Meilin’s ears still rang with the sounds of tearing rock for a long time after.

  She, Rollan, and Abeke sat on the edge of the cliff, or what remained of it, overlooking the beach. Jhi found them there, and immediately began licking the three, closing the worst of their wounds.

  The sea calmed and the storm receded, until all that fell was quiet rain.

  Wet, bedraggled, and bruised, Conor came stumbling up the cliff path to collapse down beside them, too exhausted to speak. He released Briggan. The wolf went to the edge of the cliff and howled. Uraza sat down beside Abeke and nuzzled against her.

  Essix circled above, her great wings unfurled as she rode the sea wind.

  The sun broke through the clouds. A strip of blue sky appeared. Meilin leaned back into the grass, letting the sunlight warm her.

  It was over.

  ESSIX SOARED OVER THE BEACH. THE SUN SHONE brightly in a cloudless sky with a whispering wind. The sea itself was a calm mirror, the waves gently lapping upon the pebbles and ruins.

  A grand ship waited a mile out, its wide sails displaying the colors of the Niloan High Chieftain. All other boats and ships were now just driftwood.

  Rollan sat on what had been the outer gatehouse of the palace. He followed the
flight of the falcon and was more than tempted to take off after her. But the seagulls seemed upset enough with Essix in the sky. No telling how they’d react to him flying among them.

  Instead, he patted his cloak, neatly folded beside him. Did you see me, Tarik? he thought. I flew! Just like Essix. Your cloak became my wings. You saved me again.

  Soldiers explored the beach, still searching for the remains of Song and Seaspray. They found nothing. Wherever the empress and her spirit animal were, the sea had them now.

  But others had been recovered. Not far away were three bodies, covered in green cloaks. A guard sat beside them and someone had already placed flowers upon each.

  Rollan’s heart was heavy. Kofe, Lady Cranston, and Salaman had all perished trying to save him, a boy they hardly knew.

  They were Greencloaks.

  He rested his palm on Tarik’s cloak. It was a coarse piece of cloth, old and threadbare in places; it had been torn and repaired a dozen times. To look at it, one might think it was little more than rag, but to him it was priceless.

  Even more so now.

  The life of a Greencloak was not one of peace and comfort. They spent their days on the road, and their nights under the stars. They made mistakes. Occasionally big ones.

  But they were always there when it mattered most, trying to help. Sometimes they failed, but they never gave up.

  “Come down from there, Rollan.” Meilin beckoned him from below. “The engineers haven’t declared the building safe.”

  “I’m fine here,” he said. “Why don’t you come up?”

  She folded her arms defiantly. “We can’t all fly, in case you’ve forgotten.”

  Sighing, Rollan tucked his cloak under his arm and climbed down. “Satisfied?”

  “There’s breakfast cooking at the camp.”

  Rollan’s belly rumbled. “Now you’re talking.”

  The “camp” was a chaotic cluster of tents—large and small, elegant and tatty. Jhi sat happily in the grass with a fistful of bamboo. Some of the smaller children of the palace staff watched her in rapt awe. Jhi generally ignored them, but any sudden movement had them shrieking.

  Abeke and Uraza were on the beach. The big leopard was sniffing around the ruins, the same way Briggan and a few of the hunting dogs were searching what was left of the palace. Not everyone had been accounted for, including Brunhild the Merry and Wikam the Just.

  But most of the Oathbound were. Cordelia’s body was under a sheet, and Kana and Sid sat in chains at the edge of camp.

  Rollan saw them in the distance. The Zhongese nobles weren’t leaving anything to chance. Three of the biggest warriors the palace could spare were acting as babysitters.

  Kana caught his eye. She gave him a weak smile and a little shrug—What can you do?—then glanced down to Toey curled in her lap.

  But the longer Rollan watched her, the more he saw the pain beneath. Kana was good at hiding, but Rollan had always been good at seeing people.

  The Oathbound captain had lost everything, including her best friend.

  “What’s going to happen to her?” he asked.

  Meilin glanced to the prisoners. “I don’t know,” she said. “They’ll be in prison for a long time. And the Oathbound will be disbanded, of course.” She sighed. “I’ll speak on her behalf. In the end, Kana surrendered. She was trying to help her friend. That should count for something.”

  Rollan shook his head. It hadn’t been so long ago his only concern had been where to get his next meal. Now the fate of kingdoms rested on his shoulders. He paused and sniffed. “Something smells good.”

  “What is it?”

  He tapped his nose. “Let’s just follow and find out, shall we?”

  They came to a small campfire with a large cauldron bubbling over it.

  A soldier handed them each a bowl of vegetables and noodles. A few herbs floated in the green liquid; it smelled delicious. Rollan’s stomach growled with approval, and impatience. He took a spoon and scooped a mouthful. The soup burned, but it was good. He savored every morsel.

  A shadow fell over Meilin and Rollan as they ate.

  Rollan squinted. “Chief Ugo?”

  He smiled. “The same.” He sat down beside them. “What an extraordinary night.”

  “I’m glad your ship survived.”

  The big man nodded as he accepted his own bowl. “It’s a good thing we were anchored offshore. Still, it was a rough night for Worthy and the other prisoners.”

  “How is Worthy?”

  “Convinced he’ll never be a sailor.”

  The chief turned to face them. “What you and your companions did is incredible.”

  Meilin spoke. “How’s Greenhaven?”

  “Safe. Whatever cataclysm Song was summoning, it died with her. Port cities from here to Greenhaven will have suffered flooding, but the great wave never made it. With Song dead and two bond tokens back in safe hands, the truth of what happened is being carried to the Citadel. The Greencloaks are exonerated.” He finished off the bowl and stood up. “Now my business here is ended, and I’m looking forward to getting sand between my toes. Next time you’re in Nilo, come visit.”

  Rollan winked at Meilin. “Always good to have friends in high places.”

  “I’ve always had friends in high places,” replied Meilin, smiling.

  Rollan laughed. “I was born in the gutter. Let me savor the moment.”

  Meilin looked over to a crowd at a nearby tent. “Speaking of high places, we need a word with Ambassador Ying.”

  “Ah, leave him to it, Meilin. Today’s too nice a day to talk politics.”

  The center of camp was a table salvaged from the kitchens. Ambassador Ying, still dressed in his prison rags, had spent all morning writing letters and instructions. His crane watched, perched up on the top of the adjacent tent. The nobles of Zhong and representatives from the other kingdoms were being summoned to discuss the recent government opening, and how to find a way forward without their empress.

  No sooner would he finish one letter than another blank sheet of parchment was put in front of Ying. His fingers were black with ink stains. Riders queued up, their horses saddled and ready.

  Rollan refilled his bowl from the simmering cauldron. “There’s going to be a lot of rebuilding.”

  “The Summer Palace is beyond saving,” Meilin said. “But there are other—”

  Rollan shook his head. “I mean trust. Song assassinated her father. She blamed the Greencloaks. The other rulers will be wary, not just of Zhong, but of each other. And of themselves. Who knows if they have another Song within their own families?”

  Meilin looked at him, curiously.

  “What?” Rollan wiped his chin. “Have I got something on my face?”

  “Right there.” Meilin tapped his forehead. “It looks like wisdom.”

  He blushed. “Hey, I keep telling you all how great I am. You just never listen.”

  “I know you’re great,” Meilin said, and Rollan felt his cheeks blush even further. Stupid cheeks.

  Meilin sighed, glancing back to the sea. “Song framed the Greencloaks. She killed countless people, including her own father. But I can’t help but wonder what would have happened if someone had seen how trapped and desperate she was. If someone had done something to help her.”

  “You feel bad for her?”

  “It doesn’t make any difference.”

  A servant approached, falling into a low bow. “The ambassador wishes to speak with you.”

  “About what?”

  The servant frowned. “I think he has a request of you.”

  Rollan groaned. “Can’t he get someone else? In case you hadn’t noticed, we did nearly have a palace fall on our heads last night.”

  Meilin laughed and nudged him. “Let’s find out what he wants, at least.”

  Rollan swallowed the last of the soup down, then headed off to the heart of the camp. Abeke and Conor joined them, their spirit animals at their heels.

  “A
ny luck?” Rollan asked.

  Abeke shook her head. “Song’s gone. They’ve sent a few boats out, but I doubt they’d find anything now. The storm would have carried her too far out.”

  Pain flickered across Meilin’s face. That was a terrible death, but Song had brought it upon herself.

  Rollan put his hand on her arm. “You tried to help her, Meilin. You really did.”

  Ambassador Ying stood up as they arrived. He stretched out to his full height, which wasn’t much. “All this hunching over letters isn’t doing me any good.”

  “You need us for something?” asked Rollan.

  Ying arched one white eyebrow. “There will always be work for Greencloaks. There’s no escaping it, boy.”

  Rollan rolled his eyes.

  Ying laughed, and Rollan thought he could still hear a bit of the crazy old man in him. “The Dragon’s Eye and the Wildcat’s Claw are gone. That’s half of our order’s precious gifts. But the best gift is peace, don’t you think? Peace … and the truth. Which will be hard for some to bear.”

  “The truth about Song?” asked Meilin.

  “I pity the poor girl,” the old man said with a sigh. “She was kind, once, Meilin. You could see that, couldn’t you?”

  Meilin nodded.

  “But that kindness will be forever lost. Her name will become a cursed one, as will the memory of her. She was misguided, twisted by ambition and anger. I think perhaps I share some of the blame for that. I didn’t do enough to protect her. To help foster her bond. But we cannot hide her crimes, for then innocents suffer.” He handed her a scroll. “Take this to Greenhaven.”

  Meilin took it, but held it gently. “What’s it say?”

  “Everything. The Greencloaks were framed, and I have the signatures of a whole palace full of witnesses to prove it. That should quash any hint of our order’s misdeeds. Present that letter to Olvan. We’ll need to convene another conference at the Citadel.” He looked darkly at the two chained captives. “There will be a trial. All will be made public soon.”

  Rollan looked at the tube of paper. They were going back to Greenhaven. Relief flooded through him.

  A soldier approached. He saluted and then whispered to Ying. The old man smiled. “That’s wonderful news!” he cried.