Eona by Alison Goodman

thought came to me: were these the clothes of a woman I had killed? I shook off the morbid idea. No—the cloth was too fine for a villager.
    Vida wrapped the long sash around my waist three times and tied it at the front. She stepped back, scrutinized me, then adjusted the tunic’s high collar. “Your hair is wrong,” she said. “I suppose it doesn’t matter; we won’t be traveling on the roads for anyone to see.”
    I forced my fingers under the sash; it was very tight.
    â€œI found these in the room.” Vida withdrew two worn leather pouches from the deep pocket in her gown. “They’re important, aren’t they?”
    My Dragoneye compass and the death plaques. I reached for them, then stopped. The compass had belonged to Kinra, too. It was probably anchored to her power even more than her journal.
    â€œPack them,” I said. Vida started to return them to her pocket. “No, wait.”
    I grabbed the pouch with the death plaques and pushed it between the layers of my sash. When there was a quiet, solitary moment, I would pray to Kinra—beg her to leave me alone.
    To cover my abruptness, I bent to work my feet into the sandals, but the voluminous skirt got in my way. “All this cloth is impossible,” I said, gathering the hem into one hand. “I would rather be in a man’s tunic and trousers.”
    â€œWouldn’t we all,” Vida said.
    I looked up from my task; was she softening toward me?
    â€œNot everyone. Not Lady Dela,” I said, trying a quick smile.
    She gave a sharp laugh. “That’s true.”
    â€œWhat’s true about Lady Dela?” the Contraire asked, her passage past the oxen triggering their plaintive cries.
    Vida flushed and stepped back, but I said, “We want to get back into trousers while you want to get back into a skirt.”
    Dela smiled grimly. “More than anything.” She held up a loop of string threaded with dried fruit—army travel rations, no doubt salvaged from Haddo’s supplies. “Eat something before we move out. And get that hand bound.”
    â€œDela,” I said, stopping her retreat. “Will you do something for me?” I unwound the pearls, ignoring their stiff resistance and the small piercing of my heart. “Will you take care of the folio?”
    â€œYou want me to carry it?”
    I held out the book, the pearls wrapping themselves tightly around it again. “Only you can decipher the script,” I said. “This way you can work on it at any time.”
    She studied me for a moment, her hand hovering over mine. Did she sense I was holding something back? Yet I could not tell her that my ancestress, on whom all our hopes rested, had been a traitor. I could not tell anyone. No wonder Kinra’s name had been expunged from the records, and her dragon had fled the circle for five hundred years. This was the tainted blood that flowed in my veins. This was the unforgivable legacy I had to make right with the gods.
    Dela finally picked up the folio. “I am at your service, Lady Dragoneye,” she said, and tucked the journal and its rope of guardian pearls inside her tunic.
    Vida was tying the bandage around my hand when the emperor emerged from the side lane. His walk was stiff and quick. Ryko, Yuso, and the one unscathed imperial guard followed him at a prudent distance. Even from where we sat outside the stable door, I could see the strain between the men.
    â€œAre the horses ready?” the emperor snapped at Solly. “Have they had water?”
    The resistance man dropped to his knees, his forehead touching the ground. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
    Vida followed Solly’s example and kowtowed into the dirt. I knelt into the bow of the crescent moon. It was not until Dela hissed, her flattened hand motioning me further down, that I realized my mistake; I had made the obeisance of a lord, not a lady.
    â€œRise,” the