Eona: The Last Dragoneye

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

DELA HITCHED ME up higher on her back and edged into the shadowy portico of the Pavilion of Autumnal Justice. Under the tight hook of my good arm, I felt her chest still heaving from the effort of sprinting from the Pavilion of Five Ghosts. I blinked through my own weariness; I had to stay awake. Already I had half stepped into the shadow world twice; only Vida’s vigilant pinches had pulled me back from crossing into oblivion.

Dela’s quick breathing lengthened into a sigh. The portico was empty. Yuso and Ryko had not yet arrived. Had they been caught? Were they still alive? I pushed the grim rush of possibilities away. They must make it to the pavilion: without them, our soldier and Blossom Woman ruse would not succeed.

I licked my lips, trying to find some spittle in my mouth. The last time I’d felt such thirst had been at the salt farm. Dela pointed to a tall, heavily carved recess: its dark alcove held the promise of good concealment and a decent view of the courtyard and cells. With Vida leading, we crept to our new vantage point using the thick columns that fronted the portico as cover. Vida pressed herself into the corner of the deep niche, shifting position until she had a sightline of the cells.

“Let me down,” I whispered against Dela’s ear.

Her head turned, stubbled cheek brushing mine. “Are you sure?”

She had carried me all the way from the servants’ path and the trembling in her shoulders and legs vibrated through me.

“I’ll be all right.” It was more of a hope than a certainty.

She relaxed her arms and let me drop to my feet. For a moment, all was steady — then the world lurched, and a gray haze billowed across my vision.

“She’s going again,” Vida hissed.

Her voice sounded far away. My legs folded.

Dela spun and caught me. “I’ve got you.”

I nodded, although the pain in my arm lodged in my throat like a dry retch. How was I going to get past the cell guards if I could not even stand? Dela gently maneuvered me against the carved wooden wall of the pavilion. With the solid support behind me, I rode the wave of dizziness.

“Rest.” Dela eased me down the wall until I sat on the stone floor. She crouched beside me. “You’re so cold.” Her arm circled my shoulders. The smell of leather and grease rose from the damp heat of her body.

And so the wait for Yuso and Ryko began. Although my body yearned for rest, I tensed at every night noise and flickering shadow. At some point, three lamp-eunuchs filed into the courtyard and lit the large pedestal lanterns set at intervals in a raked pebble border, the flare of each wick accompanied by a chime of thanks from a small prayer bell. Although they did not come near the portico, I still retreated farther into our hiding place, glad of its deep, shadowed embrace. From my position, I could see only one of the two guards posted outside the cell doorway; he wore a leather and iron vest and held a Ji, his dutiful scrutiny of the wide courtyard interrupted by yawns and a bottle shared with his partner. Both bored, then, and open to breaking the rules.

We waited, every passing minute adding another lead weight of fear.

“What if they don’t make it?” Vida finally whispered beside us.

“They will.” Dela was firm. “Ryko will move the heavens to get here.”

A heavy silence settled over us. Vida shifted uncomfortably, her attention still on Dela. She gave a small nod — as if coming to a hard decision — then touched Dela’s arm. “Ryko loves you,” she whispered.

“What?” Dela’s body tensed against mine.

“You love him,” Vida said. “Don’t waste time. Men die fast in war.”

Her eyes flicked to me, their stark sorrow pinning me against the pavilion wall. I looked away from the grief I had caused.

“This is hardly the place,” Dela said through her teeth. She turned back to scanning the courtyard, her disquiet like a thrum through her body.

We all turned at the soft scuff of boots on stone.

Vida half rose, knife in hand. Dela’s arm tightened around my shoulder, ready to lift me, as two dark figures paused in the shadows cast by the columns. But there was no mistaking the broad shape of Ryko, or lean Yuso. Dela’s hold relaxed as Vida beckoned the two men across the portico.

Darting from column to column, Ryko and Yuso made their way toward us. They wore uniforms; no doubt the two soldiers who had joined the dice game were either dead or trussed up somewhere. Hard on them, but a victory for us. We were now three soldiers and two Blossom Women eager to see the Dragoneye in the cells.

“Are you all right?” Ryko whispered to Dela.

I could feel the softening within her at the sound of his voice.

“Lady Eona is hurt,” she reported. “Knife to the forearm. Lost a lot of blood.”

The news sent Yuso squatting before me, his face intent. “Can you still go ahead?”

I nodded, but closed my eyes as the world swirled again. I felt Yuso’s calloused hand brush my cheek, his thumb finding the race of my pulse. His touch felt so like Sethon’s that I flinched.

He pulled back with a frown. “We won’t wait for the shift change. We go in now.”

“That will only give us a half bell before the new guards,” Ryko whispered.

“It can’t be helped. Lady Eona does not have the strength to wait.” Yuso clasped my good arm and pulled me upright. “Ryko, carry her.”

Hands helped me onto Ryko’s broad back. I rested my chin against the solid beam of his shoulders, my useless arm dangling over his chest. The whole limb was numb now. A small blessing, except I could feel the numbness spreading through my body. Everything was distant; sounds muffled, objects blurred, even the heat of Ryko’s body against mine barely penetrated the cold armor of my exhaustion.

It seemed to take forever to edge from column to column. The guards were sharing another illicit drink, and Ryko moved only when their attention was on the pass of the bottle. I counted my breaths between each wait, trying to turn my mind from the shivering weakness that kept loosening my grip around Ryko’s neck. We finally edged around the corner of the pavilion, beyond the guards’ sightline. Ryko scanned the training compound before us — the dark hall and the raked expanse of the training sands were deserted — then ran across to the narrow set of rear steps.

One by one the others ran from the shadowed portico and joined us. Ryko tightened his hold around my waist and turned his head, our noses almost touching.

“All right?” he whispered.

“All right,” I lied.

He nodded, but he was not fooled.

Yuso signed us forward. We skirted the training sands and headed toward the long rear wall of the imperial guard barracks. Before the coup, Ryko and Yuso had been quartered there along with the other imperial guards, but now it housed over two hundred soldiers. Or even more, according to Mama Momo. The dark wall bordered the whole length of the training compound and reached beyond the Pavilion of Autumnal Justice. I had not realized how close the barracks were to the cells. Dangerously within yelling distance.

At the edge of the training compound, Yuso signed a halt.

“From here,” he whispered.

Ryko eased me down onto my feet. I swayed and felt hands grab the silk at my back — Dela, an anchor in the swirling, pitching world.

“She can’t walk by herself,” Dela hissed over my shoulder.

“Between you two, then,” Yuso ordered.

Dela circled her arm across my shoulders, Ryko around my waist. Between them I was held upright, my injured arm hidden from view.

Yuso draped his arm over Vida’s shoulders, then glanced back at us. “Ready?”

And so we stepped through the elegant gateway that separated the training compound from the courtyard of justice: three drunken soldiers and their giggling companions looking for fresh entertainment.

The iron grips of Ryko and Dela kept me moving forward. I smiled up at their laughing banter, hoping the strain did not show on my face. We passed the Pavilion of Autumnal Justice, the pools of lamplight hollowing Dela’s eyes and catching the gleam of sweat at Ryko’s temples.

I chanced a look at the guards. Our stumbling, giggling progress across the courtyard had drawn them close together in front of the doorway. They watched our approach, all evidence of boredom and bottle gone.

Ryko nuzzled my hair. “Almost there,” he breathed. “Almost there.”

Beside the door, a bronze gong hung from a sturdy wooden frame, ready to alert the men in the barracks if we made one misstep. For a moment, I closed my eyes, overwhelmed by the hazards ahead. Even if we did get inside the cell to Ido and I managed to heal him, we also had to get past those two hundred men.

I opened my eyes as Yuso bowed to the guards. “Evening.” He swayed on the return, his drunken grin perfectly judged. “The lovely Dara and Sela here”—he pointed a wavering finger at Vida, then spun around and jabbed it toward me—“would like to view the mighty Dragoneye.” He squinted at the two men. “They’ve never seen one.”

Yuso was a convincing liar.

The older sentry shook his head. “My apologies, honored Leopard. As you must know, it is not possible.” He wore a Bear ranked badge, lower than Yuso’s stolen seventh-rank uniform.

Yuso grinned. “Come on, I’ve heard otherwise,” he said.

“Don’t disappoint the girls. We promised them.” He caught Vida by the waist and pulled her against him. She squealed and giggled. “Say please, Dara.”

“Please,” Vida said. “Let us go on. We could make it worth your while … afterward.”

Bear looked across at his younger partner badged with a Snake, the lowest rank.

“We get off in a quarter bell, sir,” Snake murmured. He eyed Vida and smiled.

“That one looks sick,” Bear said, jerking his head at me. I felt Ryko’s arm pull me closer.

Dela snorted. “Sela chases the dragon a bit hard, don’t you, sweetheart?”

I smiled dreamily and lolled my head against Ryko’s chest. With the courtyard pitching around me, it was not hard to emulate the boneless distraction of a dragon chaser.

Bear peered more closely at my face. “Is she a real Peony?” Suspicion colored his voice. “A real Peony costs a Tiger coin.”

“Of course she’s not,” Dela said quickly. “We can’t afford a real Peony.”

“What is she doing in Peony makeup, then?” Bear shifted his Ji forward.

I felt Ryko’s heart quicken through the padding of his vest. For all of our planning, we had not prepared a reason why a Peony would be with low-ranked soldiers.

With the dregs of my strength, I mustered a high-pitched giggle and raised my head. “It’s an extra half-coin for the make-up. I do Orchids, too. That’s a full coin, but it includes a dance.” Clumsily I circled my hips, glad of Ryko’s arm bracing me.

“A dance?” Young Snake said, his eyes lingering on my body.

I summoned another smile. “Not boring dances like the real Orchids. A real dance.”

Bear cleared his throat, his eyes cutting to his subordinate. “We could never afford such attentions, even at that price.” He scratched his chin. “Not on our very, very low pay.” He made the statement a question.

Yuso smiled. “How much, then, to see the Dragoneye?”

“A sixth. Per person,” Bear said promptly.

“Outrageous,” Yuso countered. “A twelfth per person.”

“Done.” Bear licked his lips and exchanged a smug glance with Snake. “Keep it short, though. We’re relieved at the full bell.”

Yuso handed over the coins, the ringing clink of their fall like one of the small prayer chimes.

Bear opened the wooden door and peered into the dimly lit chamber. “Got five for you. They’ve paid.”

He stepped back, ushering us in with a broad smile. “Enjoy.”

Yuso entered first with Vida, her giggling thanks diverting the guards’ attention. As Ryko and I followed them over the raised threshold, Dela quickly stepped behind us and threw her arms over our shoulders; the embrace of a drunken friend, and a shield for my bloodied arm.

We were inside. As the wooden door shut, the rush of relief made me stumble. Dela caught my upper arm and pulled me into the support of her body. I remembered to giggle, but a freeze of fear locked in my gut. Ido was so close … and I could barely stand on my own. Did I have enough strength to help him? To even help myself?

“A few rules.” The harsh voice came from a squat, jowled man behind a desk in the corner of the small chamber. Every one of his features — lips, nose, even eyelids — was overly thick, as though swollen with water. “You can only look through the door bars. And only two at a time. Got it?”

With a grunt, he pushed himself out of his chair and reached for a lamp hanging from a hook in the wall behind him — one of two handsome bronze lanterns that cast good light over the desk’s orderly collection of scrolls, pens, and a deeply grooved ink block. Nearby, a small ceramic stove held glowing coals, the bitterness of burned rice and over-brewed tea barely covering another smell that made my stomach turn — the sour stink of suffering.

He held the lamp close to his face, the yellowed light sculpting the jut of his nose and rubbery lips. “Through the door bars. Two at time. Got it?”

“Got it,” Yuso said. “Are there any other interesting prisoners in there?”

“No, he’s got the whole place to himself,” the warden said. “Nothing too good for the Dragoneye Lord, eh?” He offered the lamp to Vida. “Hold this for me, my dear, while I let you in.”

With a pretty smile, she took the lamp and followed him to the sturdy inner door. Yuso stepped out of their way as the warden unhooked a set of heavy keys from his belt and held them up to the light, their polished brass tops glinting in his thick fingers.

“This one will get you into the cell itself,” he said. “Maybe if you play your cards right, you can have a closer look.”

Behind him, a duller gleam of metal caught my eye: Yuso’s blade sliding silently from its sheath.

“I’d like that,” Vida said. A tilt of the captain’s head edged her back a step.

The warden inserted the key into the lock. “Me, too.” He gave a low laugh as the lock clicked and the door swung open. “You just give me a call and—”

With savage speed, Yuso clamped his arm around the man’s chest and thrust the knife into the sacral point, low and hard. The warden arched back, the brutal flex of his throat stifling his cry. Yuso yanked out the bloodied blade, raised it again, and plunged it over the man’s shoulder, hard into his chest. The only sounds were the soft thud of hilt hitting home and a tiny wet gasp. The man’s weight sagged against Yuso.

I let out a long, ragged breath — I had not even realized I was holding it. Ryko had spun around to cover the entrance, knife ready. But the door did not open; neither guard had heard the muted sounds of death.

Yuso eased the warden’s body to the ground and dragged it out of the inner doorway. He looked around at us, the violence still raging in his eyes.

“Get going,” he ordered.

Vida ripped the ring of keys from the lock, then forged down the shallow set of steps, lamp held up to light the way. I started to follow, but my knees buckled, the fall stopped by Dela’s quick reflexes.

“I’ve got you,” she said. “Just lean on me.”

Together, we lurched down the steps into a stone corridor. Ahead, Vida’s lamp showed a narrow downward slope and low ceiling. The stench of human pain — sweat, vomit, blood— caught in my throat, some primal part of me fighting the descent toward it.

“Holy gods, that’s foul,” Ryko said behind us.

“Here! He’s in here,” Vida called from the far end of the corridor, the ring of keys jangling as she fitted one into a lock.

Dela hauled me past three empty cells, the dark maws of their open doorways waiting for new flesh. The stink seemed embedded in the stone around us, our movements stirring small currents of air like fetid breath. We reached Vida as she pushed Ido’s cell door open and held up the lamp.

The light found him against the back wall: naked, starved body curled side-on against the stone, his forehead pressed into the cradle of his shackled hands. The slow rise and fall of his chest rasped with effort, but he did not stir. His head had been shorn, the two sleek Dragoneye queues reduced to matted spikes. The one eye visible to us was swollen, the strong shape of cheekbone and jaw below it lost in a dark mess of blood and bruising. His nose, too, had been broken, its thin patrician length smashed and swollen. But the worst injuries were on his body: someone had taken a cane to his back and legs and the soles of his feet, and they had not stopped at shredding skin and muscle. The exposed bone and sinew across his shoulders caught the light like slivers of pearl.

“How could he survive that?” Vida whispered.

An image of the Rat Dragon — pale and agonized — leaped into my mind. Was the beast keeping him alive?

Vida pressed her hand over her nose and led us into the cell. A slops bucket, from the smell of it, sat in the far corner. In sharp contrast, an elegant table — its legs carved into four dragons — stood against the left wall. It held a porcelain bowl, the delicate gold edge encrusted with dark ooze, and a jumble of sharp metal objects that my eyes skipped across but my body registered with a shiver. A bamboo cane — half of its length stained with blood — lay on the floor beside a water bucket.

Vida put the lamp down next to Ido as Dela lowered me into a crouch beside him. I had not noted it before, but his beard was gone. Its absence, together with the close crop of his hair, made his face seem strangely young. Vida drew in a shocked breath as the concentration of lamplight showed more injuries. Both shackled feet were broken — the delicate fan of bones smashed and protruding through the skin — and a large character had been carved on his chest: Traitor. I leaned against the wall beside him. How could I heal such terrible damage while I was so weak?

“He’s going to need some clothes,” Dela said tightly. “I’ll get the warden’s.” She squeezed my shoulder. “Be quick. Even Ido doesn’t deserve this.”

Across the room, Ryko picked up the bowl and sniffed the contents. He thrust it away with a grimace. “Black Dragon.”

I looked up at him blankly. Vida crossed the room and sniffed the bowl, too, nodding her confirmation.

“It constricts blood,” she said. “That must be why he hasn’t bled to death.”

“That’s not the only thing it does.” Ryko put the bowl down on the table. “I’ve seen it used to heighten pain and unleash demons in the mind.” The islander had more reason than anyone to hate Ido — the Dragoneye had tortured him — but there was something akin to pity in his voice. “If they’ve been feeding this to him, he won’t know what’s real and what’s not.”

I looked at Lord Ido’s ruined, sweat-filmed face. If he could not distinguish between reality and nightmare, he would not be able to hold back the ten bereft dragons.

“We’ve got to wake him,” I said, panic rising into a surge of desperate energy. “I need him awake.”

I reached across and touched his hand. Even more chilled and clammy than my own.

“Lord Ido?”

No response. I shook his cold arm.

Not even a flicker.

“Lord Ido,” I shook him harder. “It’s me, Eona.”

Nothing. He was far beyond a simple touch and call. More drastic measures were needed — more brutality. The thought of adding to such pain made me nauseous. But if he and I were to be healed, he had to be woken. Pushing past my own pity, I dug my fingers into the ridged, weeping damage across his shoulder.

His whole body flinched under my grip, his hands convulsing against the shackles. I jerked back. Surely that would wake him. But his eyes remained closed, no twitch of animation upon his drawn face.

“He’s not waking,” I said.

“Try again.” Vida crossed the room.

I dug my fingers in harder. “Lord Ido!”

This time the pain flung him back against the wall, the raw contact shuddering through him. Even that did not open his eyes.

“He’s deep in the shadow world. Probably a blessing,” Vida said. She held up the warden’s ring of keys. “I’ll undo the shackles. Maybe that will speak to his spirit.”

She fitted a slim key into the wrist irons, the heavy cuffs separating with a hollow click. Ido’s hands dropped, their raw, bloodied weight slapping against his thighs. The freedom did not stir him. Vida bent and unlocked the ankle irons. “I can’t pull them free.” Her voice was small. “I think they’ve broken his feet in them.”

Ryko squatted beside me and set the water bucket on the stones between us. He grabbed a handful of ragged hair and pulled Ido’s head up. His pity, it seemed, did not translate into gentleness. “Lord Dragoneye. Wake up.”

The harsh, slow breathing did not alter.

Ryko pushed Ido’s head back against the wall, then stood and picked up the bucket. “You might want to move,” he said to me.

The water hit Ido in the face with a drenching force that caught me in its cold backsplash. I gasped, wiping the wet sting out of my eyes. It had certainly roused me from my exhaustion. I blinked and focused on Ido. The dripping water tracked through the crusted filth and blood on his face, but he was still beyond us.

I turned away as Ryko swung the bucket again. The water slapped and streamed over the Dragoneye. We all leaned forward, watching for any flicker across the closed eyes, or change in the rasping rise and fall of his chest.

“He’s too far gone,” Ryko said.

“No!” Frantically I shook Ido again, the back of his head thudding against the wall. “Wake up!”

Vida pulled my hand away. “Eona, stop!”

“If he’s not awake, I can’t risk healing him,” I said through my teeth. “The other dragons will come, and he won’t be there to stop them.”

Ryko stood. “He’s not going to wake any time soon. We’re going to have to carry him out.”

“It’ll kill him,” Vida protested.

“Maybe, but we can’t leave him here.”

The sound of running footsteps turned us toward the doorway. Dela rounded the corner, clothes piled in her arms. “Yuso is keeping watch in the front room,” she panted. “But he says hurry, we’ve only got a few minutes before the new guard shift.”

“We can’t get Ido awake,” I said. “I can’t heal him.”

She dumped the clothes on the filthy stone floor. “Let me have a look.”

Ryko made way as she leaned over and peeled back Ido’s left eyelid. The pale amber iris was almost all black pupil. Then something moved across the dark dilation — a slide of silver.

Dela recoiled. “What was that?”

Hua.

I lunged forward, lifting his eyelid again. The silver was dull and its shift across his eye slower than I had ever seen before, but it was definitely his power. “He’s not in the shadow world. He’s in the energy world.”

“Is that good?” Vida asked.

“It means he’s probably with his dragon already.” I released his eyelid and sat back, remembering the blue dragon reaching toward me. Was it possible that Ido had taken refuge in his spirit beast?

“Does that mean you can heal him?” Ryko demanded.

I looked down at my bound arm. A slow throb was building through the numbness, leaching energy with every pulsing ache. I was not sure I had enough strength to get into the energy world. And even if I did, the ten bereft dragons were so fast. By my reckoning, I had less than a minute to find Ido and heal him before they attacked.

“I have to try,” I said. “Everyone stand back. You saw what happened last time.”

All three edged away to the other side of the cell.

Help me, I prayed to any god who listened, and pressed my hand flat against Ido’s wet chest, above the brutally carved character. His labored heartbeat thudded under my palm. A tight knot of terror clamped my breath. What if I could not do it? What if I killed us all?

I forced my way through the fear, each deep inhalation easing my chest open until I found a familiar, deepening rhythm: the pathway to the energy world. My exhaustion dragged at me, a treacherous riptide that I had to fight with every breath. Under my hand, Ido’s heartbeat began to match mine, the ragged rise and fall of his chest blending into my own steady measure. The dim physical world around us twisted and bent into bright colors and streaming Hua.

Before me, the solid suffering of Ido’s body shifted into patterns of energy. Pain slashed and spun through his meridians in sharp, jagged bursts of Hua. Each of his seven points of power circled slowly, the silver pathways hampered by a thick black ooze. I looked closer. The points, from red sacrum to purple crown, turned in the wrong direction. I had seen it before in Dillon.

Ido was using Gan Hua.

Ryko, Dela, and Vida braced themselves in the far corner, Hua pumping through their transparent bodies in dazzling streams of silver. They could not see the Mirror Dragon above them or sense her power, but to me her vibrant energy radiated like a small sun, searing away the shadows of the dank cell. She focused her otherworldly eyes upon me and I felt my Hua leap to meet her huge, shimmering presence. Her sinuous neck stretched toward me, the gold pearl under her chin alive with surging flames. Cinnamon flooded my mouth, her warm, joyous invitation bringing tears to my eyes.

But I could not accept it. Not yet.

I dragged my attention from her glowing beauty and focused on the Rat Dragon crouched in the north-northeast corner, his wedged head bowed and pale flanks heaving. The power from the beast was sour and dull, a muddy energy creating pockets of darkness within the streams of bright color that flowed from my dragon.

Lord Ido? I called silently. Are you in there?

The beast slowly lifted his head. The large eyes were not depthless, like the Mirror Dragon’s. They were amber and clouded with pain.

Ido’s eyes.

“By the gods, you are in your beast!” I said, shocked into speaking aloud. “How is that possible?”

Eona. Ido’s hoarse mind-voice was full of disbelief. What are you doing here?

I pushed past my own astonishment and answered him mind to mind. I’m here to heal you.

Heal me?

Yes, but I need your help. The other dragons will come and I can’t hold them back. I need you to block them like you did before. In the fisher village.

Ido’s dragon eyes met mine, their sudden human shrewdness at odds with the ferocious blue-scaled head and fanged muzzle. Why do you take this risk? What do you want?

For all his torment, he had not lost any sharpness of mind.

I want you to train me.

Ahh. The big wedge head slowly cocked to one side. And what do I get from this bargain?

You get your life! What more do you want? Yet part of me admired his attempt to shift even this dire situation to his advantage.

The thin dragon tongue flicked. I will have one other thing.

You have no power to bargain, Lord Ido.

You have no power without me.

The blunt truth jerked my hand off his human chest. Across the cell, the dragon’s head lowered, watching me. Ido knew he had hit home. I could call his bluff, but we were both running out of time.

What do you want? I asked.

The red folio.

Of course. Ido had always wanted the folio. He had stolen it twice already, but had never got past its black pearl guardians. Rapidly, I gauged the risk; the Woman Script and codes would keep any secrets I did not want to share. Even so, I knew Ido could use information like an assassin’s knife. A compromise, then.

You cannot have the folio, but I will tell you what it holds.

Agreed. But I could feel his dissatisfaction.

Are you ready?

The huge opal talons spread, bracing for my power. Be very fast, Eona. I am almost too long gone.

For the first time, I heard a note of fear in his mind-voice. I pressed my hand against his cold, bloodied chest and gathered all of my own waning strength into the call to my dragon. Even as the first vowel of our shared name rang out in the cell, her power rushed through me, filling my seven points of power with raw golden energy that thrummed in a song of joyous union.

My vision split between heaven and earth, the cell heaving with bright Hua around the darkened shape of Ido. Heal him, I thought. Heal him, before they come. No time to slowly sing the body whole. No time to delicately knit flesh and bone. Heal him, now! Through dragon eyes, we saw the gossamer threads that stretched between the man and his beast, the earth world and energy. Too frail, too dark. In the distance, we heard the shriek of sorrow ten times over — the other dragons were on their way, keening the loss of their Dragoneyes. And under their shrill song came another sound: a bell, ringing over and over again.

The pulsing patterns of Hua that we knew as Ryko ran to the doorway. “The alarm! They must have discovered us. Eona, hurry!”

We felt our power coil, tight and strong, drawing energy from every point — the earth, the air, the waters, the heartbeats of a thousand living things — into one huge, pulsing, healing howl. We were Hua, and we slammed our raw song into Ido’s earthly form.

He screamed as our power wrenched him back into his tortured body, then exploded through every inner pathway. Hua roared through him, a fireball that fused torn flesh together, welded bone, and purified his leaden life force back into bright silver streams.

Ido fell on to his hands and knees, gasping. He looked up at us, and for a moment the planes of his energy face shifted into solid flesh, his shoulders and back once more dense muscle and smooth skin. Then his features shivered and shaped back into the rush of healing Hua. The silver coursed through his seven points of power, the orbs once more spinning in the right direction. My eyes found the heart point I had healed before; although it was now flowing with strong Hua, it was once again smaller and duller than the others. Did he still have the compassion I had forced upon him? And there was another difference that drew my gaze up to his crown point, the seat of the spirit. Deep within its whirling purple sphere was a small gap, black and malignant. I had never seen such darkness before in a point of power.

Beyond him, the vibrant form of the Rat Dragon stretched into sinuous strength. The beast’s sky blue body expanded and rippled, pulsing with the exchange of energy. He swung his head up, delicate nostrils flaring, and then we heard it, too: shrieking grief, its pressure building around us. Our heavy muscles bunched, ready for battle.

“Get out!” I yelled at Ryko.

The ten dragons burst into the cramped space, their brutal power gouging huge chunks of stone from the walls that spun and smashed across the floor. Through dragon eyes, we saw Ryko wrench Dela and Vida into the corridor as choking dust billowed through the cell. My earthly body doubled over, coughing, as the grieving beasts hurled themselves at us.

The Rat Dragon arrowed across the path of the western beasts, slashing with opal claws that drew gushes of bright Hua from the Dog and Pig Dragons. They pulled away, screaming. Our big red body rammed the green Tiger Dragon and our ruby claws raked across the rose pink hide of the Rabbit Dragon. We twisted, muscles straining to duck beyond the amethyst claws of the Ox, the wall behind the purple beast exploding into rubble. The blue dragon leaped in front of us, sweeping in a snarling circle, claws connecting, driving back the other ducking, diving, howling beasts.

Eona, like we did before. Ido’s mind-voice was strong, the orange taste of his bright power laced with sweet vanilla. Together!

His earthly hand grabbed mine. His touch pulled me from my dragon-sight and I saw him on his knees, head thrown back, amber eyes alight with battle. Then I was back with the Mirror Dragon, our huge red body rolling under the crushing need of the circling beasts. This time there was no hesitation: we opened our pathways, feeling the rush of orange energy. It blazed through us, drawing our golden power into a huge wave of Hua bound with spinning stone and rock, barely held in check by Ido’s iron control.

His hand tightened around mine. With a roar, he let our power loose, a booming explosion that ripped through the roof and outer walls of the cell and slammed the ten dragons backward. For a moment, the glut of power turned the celestial plane vibrant red — the beasts were fighting the force — then the shimmering circle of dragon bodies screamed as one and disappeared.

The energy world buckled and snapped away from my sight. I was back in my own body, the glorious power of my dragon like a distant hum in my head and a hollow absence in my spirit.

Ido yanked me down to the ground beside him, his arm across my body. An aftershock slammed across us, pressing me against the stone and punching through the walls of the other cells, bringing a hard stinging rain of dust and dirt.

Slowly, I lifted my head. Half of the outside wall was missing, showing scattered bodies among the rubble: soldiers, called by the alarm and caught in the blast. A few shadowy figures were gathering at a wary distance. More would come.

“Are you all right?” Ido croaked. “That was too close. Either the ten are stronger, or we are weaker.”

I ducked out from under his hold, both my arms holding my weight. All my pain was gone. I tore away the field dressing— under the caked blood, the savage gash had knitted together as though it had never been.

Ido sat back, his full restoration also plain to see. He stared down at the smooth expanse of his chest and brushed his fingers across the uncarved skin, then twisted to see the condition of his back. I, too, could not help staring at his body and the marvel of my dragon’s healing power. All the damage was gone, his powerful breadth of shoulder and long legs unmarred by bru-tality. His musculature, however, was stark on the strong bones. Dragon power could not heal days of near starvation. Ido saw my attention, but did not move to cover his nakedness. “What is our number?”

I looked away, fixing on the dark figures outside the cell. Already the few had become many. “We are six, counting you.”

He rubbed his hand down his face. “Six? Is that all?”

“Eona?” It was Ryko’s voice, rough and urgent.

“Here,” I called, pushing myself up on to my feet. “We are unhurt.”

I touched my arm again. Better than unhurt.

“You’ve healed yourself, too?” Ido’s eyes ran along my body. “You are not crippled anymore.”

“No,” I said, flushing under his scrutiny. “A useful power to have,” he said. More useful than he knew.

“Soldiers,” Ryko said as he picked his way through the haze of dust and the tumble of stones that lay across the doorway. “We’re surrounded.”

Behind him, Vida, Dela, and Yuso struggled over the sliding, clinking rubble. I saw Vida pause at the sight of Ido’s healed body.

“They must have found the two men we killed,” Yuso said. He wiped at a wide, bloody gash above his eye, smearing blood across his forehead. “More are coming.”

“It does not matter.” Slowly, Ido pushed himself upright. He stared down at his feet and flexed his toes, then glanced across at me and gave one short nod — probably the closest he could come to gratitude. “Now that I’m whole, I’ll clear the way.”

“With your power? It is against the Covenant.”

Even as I said it, I realized how foolish I sounded. Ido had killed all of the other Dragoneyes. He would not care about the sacred Covenant of the Dragoneye Council.

His teeth showed in a wolf’s smile. “Don’t lie to yourself, girl. You know the Covenant is dead.”

“It is not.” The denial was hollow even to my own ears.

From the debris, Dela hauled out the clothes she had dumped earlier and handed them to Ido, grit cascading from their folds. “Since Lord Ido has already broken the Covenant in the service of Sethon,” she said, her voice hard, “the least he can do is break it again in our service.”

Ido eyed her as he pulled on the dusty trousers and tied the drawstring around his waist. “You have become very pragmatic, Contraire.” He pulled the loose shirt over his head.

“Necessity.” She licked her lips. “Will your power get us out of the palace?”

He looked down at his wasted body. “I should have enough in me to get past these men.”

“Do you have enough to kill Sethon?” she asked.

What was she thinking? We were here to free Ido to train me, not assassinate Sethon.

Ido shook his head. “I am not part of your resistance, Contraire.”

“But he tortured you. Surely you want to kill him.”

Ido’s jaw shifted. “I will kill him in my own time. Not at the convenience of your cause.”

Yuso stepped forward. “We all want Sethon dead, Lady Dela. But this is not the time. It is not our mission. We are here to get Lord Ido out.”

“The captain is right,” I urged.

“They are forming battle lines outside,” Vida reported.

A clipped voice of command and the ominous thud of running feet spun us all around to face the gaping hole in the wall. Troops were gathering around the building.

“We have men and horses waiting for us beyond the imperial guards’ gate,” Yuso said. “You know the direction?”

Ido nodded. “Everyone stay close to me,” he ordered. “If any of you stray beyond my protection, I will not stop.”

We clustered behind him, Dela and Vida huddling at either side of me, Ryko and Yuso at the rear. Ido’s breathing changed, the slight lift and fall of his shoulders sinking into the deep, slow measure that would ease him into the energy world.

This was the moment to test my link with him: I had to be sure I could control him.

Tentatively, I reached out with my Hua, seeking the pulse of his life force, ready to pull back at the first sign of connection. With Ryko, my link was fast and brutal, but Ido’s energy was guarded, layered, mixed with the vanilla orange of his dragon. As his mind moved closer to the energy world, I felt a pathway open, the distant beat of his strong heart drawing toward my own rhythm. Quickly, I retreated before his pulse melded to mine.

He looked back at me, amber eyes threaded with silver. Had he had sensed my presence? But a shout from the courtyard refocused his attention. The troops were advancing. He stepped through the hole in the cell wall — the rest of us moving as one behind him — and with an upheld hand, he hardened the light breeze into a sudden wind that raised the dust into violent eddies. They swirled around our tight huddle but did not touch us, their howling force building with every step we took toward the troops.

Soldiers raised their Ji only to have them ripped from their hands and spear the men behind. We walked toward them as the power of the screaming wind snatched up the bodies of the dead and slammed them into the living, the horror breaking the line as much as the damage from the heavy human missiles. Those who remained staunch were hurled backward, the wind like a battering ram that pounded them into their comrades and the walls of the guards’ quarters. Pebbles from the raked border lacerated their skin into bloodied shreds, their screams lost in the shrieking gale.

How could I control the will of a man with such immense power?

We passed the Pavilion of Autumnal Justice, Ido reaming the earth on either side of us with a flick of his hands. The ground heaved under the next wave of soldiers, the cobbles ripped out from under them as they ran toward us. The stones arced in the air, then rained down on their heads with sickening thuds. Vida grabbed my arm and turned her head away as one by one the large oil lamps burst across another rank of troops, setting them alight, the wind whipping the flames across the oil-splattered, screaming men.

As we headed toward the palace wall, I caught sight of soldiers rounding the far corner of the guards’ quarters. Ido saw them, too. With a lift of his hand, he raised the sands from the training arena. I ducked, although I knew the pale cloud that arrowed over our heads would not touch us. It hit the men like a thousand tiny knives, shearing away skin and stifling screams with suffocating force. Behind me I heard Ryko’s soft moan of horror.

Ahead, a section of the palace wall exploded outward in a crash and tumble of stone and dust. Ido’s pace did not falter. We climbed through the hole after him and across the debrisstrewn riding track, all of us fighting the urge to run from the screaming devastation in our wake.

Before us spread the formal pathways and cultivated groves of the Emerald Ring — the lavish gardens that separated the palace from its surrounding circle of twelve Dragon Halls. We had emerged near the Lucky Frog Pond, its famed frog-house pavilion rising from the gilded waters like a miniature temple. The burning palace cast a burnished glow upon its surface, and caught the wet jewel eyes of the frogs crouched within it. Beyond the pond, a round moon gate framed a raked pebble garden, the pale stones gleaming in the reddened light like a pathway of gold.

Ryko hooked his fingers into his mouth and gave a series of shrill whistles that pierced even the cracking, shouting chaos behind us. The inky shapes of men and horses emerged from a stand of cypress trees to our right. I saw the pale, dappled hide of Ju-long and my heart leapt. Was Kygo among the men? Surely he would not risk it.

“The god of luck is with us,” Vida whispered.

“He had nothing to do with it,” Ido said, his voice rough with fatigue. “I saw their Hua through the eyes of my dragon.”

He led us past the pond toward them, the silhouettes coalescing into the wiry figure of Caido and four of his men battling to control the string of horses. No Kygo: he had given Ju-Long over to our rescue. The beasts had caught the scent of fire and burnt flesh, and all six were balking at the attempts to move them forward.

“Walk them back until they settle,” Caido ordered, the mountain lilt in his voice flattened by urgency.

The men pulled the horses around and led them farther into the gardens. Caido strode across to us. For a moment, he stood transfixed by Ido, confusion pressing him into a hesitant bow. He knew Ido was supposed to be our prisoner, yet there was no mistaking the silver power that still pulsed through the man’s eyes, nor his natural command.

Yuso stepped forward. “Is His Majesty safe?” he demanded, breaking Caido’s thrall.

“He is waiting with the rest of my men at the rendezvous,” the resistance man said, but his attention had shifted to the ruins of the palace wall. He squinted into the bil-lowing smoke, then pointed to the dark shapes of soldiers climbing cautiously over the shattered stonework. “More are coming. We must go!”

“They do not learn, do they,” Ido said. He whirled around to face the palace, then pressed his hands outward. The gravel riding track buckled and exploded upward. I ducked as the earth split with a tearing roar along the palace wall, opening up underneath scrambling, shrieking soldiers and consuming them in a sudden collapse of dirt and stone. More and more earth fell away in a thundering rush as the huge crack spread beyond the palace boundaries, ripping the gardens in half until the two sides were separated by an impassable, gaping chasm.

The rumbling died away, leaving an eerie silence and a heavy cloud of dust. Then the screaming started; men shrieking in pain and terror.

Ido looked across at me, then started to walk away. The captain lunged for him, but Ido clenched his fist, and the ground heaved beneath the Shadow Man. Yuso staggered and landed on his back with a pained grunt.

“Lord Ido,” I yelled. “We have a deal. You said you would train me.”

Although his gaunt face was hollow with exhaustion, power still threaded across his amber eyes. “What did you expect, Eona? That I would trot behind you like your islander dog?” He gestured at Ryko who had started to close in on him, alongside Vida and Dela. Ido raised a warning hand, stopping their wary approach. “If you want to learn, Eona, you must come with me. On my terms.” He smiled, and I felt as if the weight of his body was already on mine.

“You know I would never go with you. Never!”

“I know how much you want your power — it is like a hunger in you,” he said. “And I know that without me, you will never have it. So make your choice. Learn how to raze palaces to the ground, or be a useless girl without the steel to follow the path of her power.”

I stepped forward. He was right — I did want my power, so much that it was like a constant ache within my spirit — but he was so very wrong about me not having steel.

With savage anticipation, I rammed my Hua outward, seeking the silvery pathway into Ido’s will. I felt my life force roll over another pulse, a familiar heartbeat sliding under mine in a rush of unstoppable energy. Ryko.

Beside me, the islander dropped to the ground, gasping. I faltered; I had not even thought of him.

Ido crouched, sensing the threat. I saw the burst of silver across his eyes as he gathered his power. No time for hesitation. I punched my Hua through his exhaustion, the taste of him flooding my mouth in a rich wave of pulsing orange power that drove him to his knees.

What are you doing? His fury was like the cut of acid.

I fought to draw his heartbeat to mine, his resistance like a roar through my blood. Slowly, like hauling on a heavy net, I pulled his life rhythm closer and closer to my own. He struggled, the pounding of his rage fighting the grip of my Hua. Slowly, he forced his way through my power and staggered to his feet. The battle cost him: his pulse slid under mine — one beat of unity— then broke free again.

Instinctively I sought more power. Ryko. He writhed on the ground nearby, his frantic energy waiting to be tapped. I grabbed at it, drawing up his bright Hua. Ryko screamed, a terrible rattling sound, but I could not stop. The sudden surge of energy within me leaped like a howling beast and hammered Ido back to his knees.

Sweat soaked the back of the Dragoneye’s shirt as he tried to fend off the savage onslaught, every desperate block ripped apart by the teeth of my power. It was dark energy, raw and shrieking, and it wrenched his Hua into mine, pinning his pulsing rage under the thundering beat of my heart. With the brutal strength of victory, I slammed him onto his hands and knees.

“Your will is mine. Do you understand?”

He strained upward, his mouth drawn back into a snarl. Beside me, Ryko groaned, caught in the backlash.

“Lord Ido, do you understand?”

He raised his head — the effort rippled through my stranglehold. His eyes were dark gold with fury, all silver gone. I slammed him down again until his forehead was pressed into the grass and dirt.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he gasped. “Yes.”

My body roared with exhilaration; I had control of Lord Ido — all of his power and all of his pride. Now he knew the agony of enslavement. I could make him do anything—

“Eona, stop it! Now!” A blurred face rose in front of me, all screaming mouth. “You are killing Ryko!”

My head snapped back, the sharp impact of a hand breaking my thrall. Dela’s stern features burst into focus. I cupped my stinging cheek as the rush of power drained from my body. Yet the savage joy lingered like a soft hum in my blood. My grip on Ido’s Hua was gone, but I knew the pathway to it had been blazed into him. And into me.

I stepped back, trembling.

Ido slowly lifted his head, testing his freedom. I knew that feeling: the relief of being in control again. With a deep breath, he pushed himself back on to his heels and spat, wiping his mouth free of dirt. The shaking curl of his fingers was the only sign of his fury.

“That is not dragon power,” he rasped. “What is it?”

Warily, I watched him, ready to clamp down again. “If I heal someone, I can take their will,” I said. “Whenever I want.” But he was right; it was not dragon power. Whatever it was, it came through the connection that had been forged between us when I had healed him, just as it had been forged with Ryko at the fisher village. A thin gold thread of each man’s Hua entwined with my own. Yet I did not truly know where the power came from.

Or maybe I just did not want to know.

He pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead. “It nearly split my skull open.” He looked up at me. “You enjoyed it. I could feel your pleasure.”

“No.” I crossed my arms.

He smiled grimly. “Liar.”

“My lady,” Caido said, “please, we must go now!” The resistance man’s thin face was sharp with anxiety and awe and, I realized, fear of me.

I nodded and turned back to Ido. “Get up.”

Ido’s mouth tightened at the order, but he hauled himself to his feet.

Dela and Vida squatted on either side of Ryko. With a gentle hand, Dela rolled the big man onto his side. Ryko groaned, his face gray. I had almost ripped too much Hua from him. It had won me control over Ido, but I had nearly killed my friend.

“Dela, is he all right?” I moved toward them. “He just got caught up in it. I didn’t—”

“Just let him be!” Her fury was like a brick wall between us. She turned back to Ryko and helped him sit up.

“Maybe I was wrong about you,” Ido said, watching the islander tense and double over, shivering with pain.

“What do you mean?”

Ido’s face angled toward me. The play of light from the flames carved deep hollows under his cheekbones and emphasized the long, patrician nose. “Last time we met, you surrendered to spare your islander pain. You could not bear to see him hurt.” His eyes narrowed in a malicious smile. “Now you rip his Hua from him to compel me. Maybe you have enough steel to follow the path of your power, after all.”