Dragon and Phoenix Read Free Page A

exactly what Jhanun wanted. He had lost much of his former influence over the Phoenix Emperor since Xiane had become enthralled with her.
    Was Jhanun mad that he thought she would obey—or did he think her a fool? No matter. He would learn. She was not to be taken by such ploys. Fool he was, to place such a weapon in her hands; if Xiane saw this, Jhanun would not escape banishment a second time. She would keep this safe to use one day if necessary.
    But that the emperor’s former chancellor thought to order her as though she were still a simple concubine—that was arrogance.
    And arrogance was not something she need tolerate. Not even from one as powerful as Jhanun nohsa Jhi—Jhanun, second rank servitor of the Jhi. Not when she herself was noh, first rank. Not when she was the mother of the Phoenix Lord’s only “heir,” born just three weeks ago.
    A cloud of black hair spilled over her shoulder as she bowed her head at a sudden thought. Her hand clenched on the fan beside the note.
    Was all well with her son? Xahnu was with his retinue in the foothills of the Khorushin Mountains, sent there to avoid the lowland fevers that carried off so many children every hot season. He should be safe. Even those as ambitious as Jhanun or the faction he headed would never dare harm the emperor’s heir—the Phoenix would destroy them.
    Even so, she wanted her baby by her side. Tears pricked at her eyes.
    No! She must not be weak. Her breath hissed through clenched teeth. She must be the coldest steel—especially if the emperor were truly dying. There would be a throne to seize did that come to pass. A throne that Shei-Luin already had ambitions for.
    And Jhanun must be taught a lesson. That he thought to fool her by so transparent a trick angered her. He must be removed from the game that was the imperial court. Without him the Four Tigers would be masterless, scuttling in every direction and none, like a centipede with its head chopped off. They would cease their endless attempts to manipulate the weak-willed emperor. More importantly it would end their attempts to depose her .
    “Murohshei!” she called. Her voice rang in the airy pavilion like a bell. At once she was answered by the slap of bare feet against the polished wood floors of the hall as her eunuch obeyed the summons.
    Murohshei—slave of Shei. Idly she wondered if even he remembered what name he had carried long ago, before being given to the then-child Shei-Luin for her own.
    The eunuch entered the room. He fell to his knees before her, forehead pressed to the floor. She stood silent a moment, pale hands clasped before her, holding the fan of intricately carved sandalwood and painted silk like a dagger.
    “Murohshei.” Her voice was clear and sweet.
    The eunuch looked up at her.
    “Murohshei, I desire the head of Jhanun.”
    “Favored of the Phoenix Lord, Flower of the West,” Murohshei said. “It shall be done. However long it takes, it shall be done.” He touched his forehead to the teak floor once more.
    Shei-Luin smiled. She imagined Jhanun’s head on a pike outside her window. It would look very well indeed.
    Then, as it had done all too often of late, the earth trembled violently. Shei-Luin staggered, would have fallen had not Murohshei sprung to her aid.
    The Phoenix was angry once again.

Five
    The dragon flew rapidly to the north, urgency in the rapid beating of its wings. Soon it dwindled to little more than a speck in the brightening sky.
    Maurynna paused in the doorway to the balcony, wondering which Dragonlord was abroad so early and with such pressing need. She knew it for one of her kind and no truedragon; whoever it was, he—or she—was much smaller than her soultwin Linden’s dragon form. And even he, she’d been told, was no match for a truedragon.
    She finished wrapping the light robe around herself and continued into the new day, considering what this early-morning flight might mean.
    She’d caught only a glimpse, just enough to