Eona: The Last Dragoneye

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

LORD IDO WAS crouched a length beyond the tide line, sifting sand through his fingers under the gaze of his two guards. As I approached, he released the handful in a glistening slip and stood to watch my awkward progress across the soft beach. Each step squeaked and, along with the persistent flies and my sore spirit, I was finding it difficult to maintain any dignity.

I stopped in front of him. “Lord Ido.”

“Lady Eona,” he answered, bowing.

Gathering knots of villagers watched us from beyond the seawall. Most of the able-bodied men were out on the fishing boats, but it was wise to never underestimate the power of a mob, even if it was made of the elderly, women, and children. “Is it a good idea to be so conspicuous, Lord Ido? There is a great deal of ill feeling toward you in this village.”

He shrugged. “His Majesty has agreed to us working on the beach.”

I glanced at the two men behind him. Their startled eyes were fixed on my unbound hair.

“Wait over there,” I said, waving them to the end of the seawall where Caido still stood. “And keep watch on the villagers. Do not let them approach.”

They bowed and left, their retreat marked by the strange squeaking.

“I like your hair like that,” Ido said.

I opened my fist and smoothed out the leather string that the old attendant had beseechingly pressed into my hand, for my modesty. With deliberate show, I gathered my hair at the back and tied the thong around it.

He smiled. “I like it like that, too.”

Crossing my arms, I said, “You told Caido I was strong enough to work with my dragon now.”

“No. I said we were strong enough to work with your dragon.” He took a few steps toward the seawall. “Come. I’ll show you how to catch lightning.”

Catch lightning? Intrigued, I followed. He stopped midway between wall and water and sat on the sand near a small overturned boat, a tilt of his head inviting me to join him. Driven by a sense of unease, I scanned the beach and cliffs around us. Along the seawall, a lumpy expanse of draped fishing net had flipped back at one end, exposing the unmistakable outline of tuaga: long, sharpened bamboo stakes bound crosswise to form portable defense walls. It was the first sign of any fortification I had seen. What else did the villagers have hidden? I lifted my shoulders, trying to throw off my misgivings. They were resistance, and obedient to Kygo. Yet I could not forget the Elder’s hostility toward Ido. The Dragoneye was hated here; he was a collaborator and had orchestrated the slaying of their Dragoneye protectors. I hoped Kygo’s command was strong enough to hold back a mob’s desire for revenge.

I settled opposite Ido, feeling the sand’s heat seep through my tunic and trousers. The Dragoneye picked up another silky handful and watched it trickle through his fingers, the curve of his eyelashes dark against the pale strain under his eyes. The symmetry of his face was not gut-wrenchingly harmonious like Kygo’s, but every line was strong and bold and brutally confident. Very male. Vida’s description was perfect.

“You have surprised me, Eona,” he said softly. “I was not expecting such”—he looked up at me with a wry smile— “inventiveness in your power manipulation. Or such strength.”

I shifted uncomfortably. “You forced me to go that way.”

“I forced you to find more strength. You chose that particular way yourself.”

I did not look away from his challenge. “Yes.”

His smile broadened. “Good. Don’t ever be ashamed of the course your power takes.”

“You say that, even after I used those pathways?”

“You did what you had to do, Eona. Just as I did,” he said.

“This time, however, I lost, and now Dillon and the black folio are coming. Although we are not ready for them.”

I refused the bait. “Is he near?”

“No. It will take him a while to reach us.”

“How will he follow us over water?”

Ido shrugged. “The black folio will find a way. If there is no boat, the boy will track us along the coast.” He squinted up at the thick, dark clouds. “Our power is diminishing, I am sure of it. “ My shift of alarm brought his eyes back to me. “Do not panic — it is diminishing slowly, not draining away,” he added. “Still, we need to find a way to contain the ten dragons so you can use all the power that you have before Dillon arrives. Then we can both hold him off and get the black folio. It is ironic that once we have the book, you will have no problem with the other dragons — the black folio seems to repel them.”

“Very ironic,” I said dryly. “You really think Dillon will be that strong?”

Ido nodded. “By the time we meet him again, he will be completely taken over by the black folio. I can already feel its presence through the Rat Dragon.”

I shivered, remembering the acid reach of its words. “What is it? What makes it so powerful?”

“Someone wove pure Gan Hua into its pages to protect the secret of the String of Pearls and the way to take all of the dragon power,” he said. “Only a very strong Dragoneye can read the folio without their mind being burned into madness.” He looked at me from under hooded lids. “And only two ascendant Dragoneyes could ever have the combined strength to take all of the dragon power and wield it.”

I leaned forward. “You’ve read the whole folio.”

He bent to meet me. “Then I must be mad or very strong.”

“Most would say you are mad.”

“What do you say, Eona?”

“I think you are very strong, Ido.”

His eyes flickered. “Since when am I just ‘Ido,’ Eona? Since you showed me your true strength? Or since you called my body to yours?”

Abruptly, I pulled back. “How is the String of Pearls made, Lord Ido?”

He followed my retreat until his lips were a breath away from mine. “Nothing is free, Lady Eona,” he said softly. “Especially not that kind of information.”

I licked my lips, my heart quickening.

He laughed and leaned back. “I was thinking more along the lines of an information trade.”

“What kind of information?” I snapped.

“Our bargain was that I would train you, and you would tell me what was in the red folio.”

“I told you about the portent. There is not much else to know.”

“Surely you know who wrote the folio?”

I was loath to tell him, but I needed to know more about the String of Pearls. “It is the journal of my ancestress, Kinra.”

He seemed genuinely taken aback. “The Blossom Woman?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head slowly. “The Ascendant Mirror Dragoneye.”

“Ah.” He smoothed back his ragged hair, eyes fixed on the sand in thought. “Now I understand. As Rat Dragoneye, I hold Lord Somo’s records — or what is left of them — and she is mentioned in them. Often.” He turned his attention back to me with a sly smile. “They were lovers.”

“Ancient history.” I shrugged, hoping he could not see the flush of heat that prickled across my skin. “So, how is the String of Pearls made?”

With his forefinger, he drew in the sand between us: twelve small circles, one slightly larger than the others, connected to create one big circle. “Look familiar?” he asked.

“That’s on the front of the black folio. The symbol for the String of Pearls.”

“It is more than a symbol. It is a representation of the weapon. The dragons form a circle and release the pearls from beneath their chins, so each pearl touches the next. Once they have done so, the combined power is collected into all twelve pearls. As soon as that occurs, the power must be contained or it will destroy everything.” He looked up. “The old scrolls sometimes call it the Necklace of the Gods. More poetic, I think, than the String of Pearls.”

“What happens to the dragons?”

“Once the beasts are separated from their pearls, they cannot reclaim them,” he explained. “It is Dragoneye lore that spirit beasts are immortal. But now your portent makes me think that the String of Pearls could destroy them.”

“Then why would they ever give up their pearls?”

“I don’t know.” With one wipe, he obliterated the sand circle. “Perhaps we will find out when Dillon arrives with the black folio.”

Even if I believed what Ido said, he was probably not telling the whole truth. I had no doubt he wanted the power from the String of Pearls: he had already killed the other Dragoneyes in his quest for it. During the palace coup he had told me he was going to unite dragon power with the dragon throne, and I was the key to his ascension. He had wanted to rule both earth and the heavens. Did he still hold such grandiose plans? Perhaps his capture by Sethon had tempered his ambition. Or maybe the fires of suffering had branded it deeper into his heart. Whatever the case, I had the feeling that he, too, did not understand all the pieces of the puzzle.

The black folio held the secret of a weapon that took all the dragons’ power, and the red held a portent that foretold the way to save that power. There was obviously some deeper connection between them, but I could not see it. I dug my fingers into the sand and raked my frustration through the grainy warmth. If felt as if every new bit of information curled back upon itself, seeming to get closer to the truth but in fact adding another veil of obscurity. Why was our Dragoneye power diminishing? And how could the Hua of All Men save the dragons? Did it have something to do with the String of Pearls? But if what Ido said was true, the String of Pearls was an agent of destruction — not an avenue of rescue.

One thing I knew with certainty: I could never tear the Imperial Pearl from Kygo’s throat.

A sudden tension in Ido’s body brought me back to myself. I followed his gaze to the seawall; the number of villagers behind it had doubled. Caido and his men had each taken a position on top of the stacked stones. Three men against fifty villagers, at least. And from the looks of it, not all of the men had gone out with the fishing boats.

Ido frowned. “Do they think I am defenseless?”

“We should go,” I said, rising.

“No.” Ido grabbed my arm, pulling me back down to the sand. “We are Dragoneyes. We do not get run off by peasants. Don’t worry. What I am about to show you will keep them in check.”

He pressed his palms — the gateways of energy — onto the sand and took a deep breath, tilting his head back. Almost immediately I saw the silver power slide through his eyes. Another breath swelled his broad chest. He released it and repeated the cycle in a smooth, regular rhythm. Then I saw the glory of communion strip the strain from his face. The joyous energy within him pulsed, its pleasure reaching me like a distant drum deep inside my body.

His silvered eyes locked on mine. “You are feeling this too, aren’t you?” he said.

I did not want to give him the satisfaction of an answer.

Then his attention was elsewhere, beyond the physical world. Around us the air sang, building into a shriek that pushed the villagers back from the seawall in a wave of fear. Energy cracked and shivered across the sky. A long, pale jag of lightning split the dark clouds with a boom and flashed toward the sea. Then, as if a huge hand had grasped it, the bolt stopped. Slowly it turned, point aimed straight at the village, its power held suspended above us. I heard screams, but I was transfixed by the frozen flame of energy hanging in the air.

“Shall I teach these villagers some respect?” Ido said. “There are more of them across the hill.”

“No!”

He gave a soft laugh. With it, the lightning was released. I flinched as it ripped through the air and slammed deep into the sand a few lengths from us with a heavy thud. The impact rippled under the surface like the track of a creature slithering below.

“Holy Shola.” I scrabbled away from the shifting ground. A harsh smell burned the back of my nose and throat. Then all was quiet.

With a dismissive glance at the villagers cowering behind the seawall, Ido stood and dusted the sand off his trousers. “Come.” He waved me over to the fused indentation in the sand where the lightning had struck. “This is the best part.”

He crouched and carefully dug, clearing the sand away in two piles behind him. Cautiously, I crossed the short space and peered into the hole he had made.

“There,” he said. Something white poked up from the sand. “Help me get it out.”

“What is it?” I dropped to my knees and dug on the other side of the protrusion.

“Careful. It’s brittle.”

We dug down, clearing the cooler sand away. Finally, he gently withdrew a jagged white rod, as long as the stretch of my arms and encrusted with sand. It was no wider than my wrist, and hollow, like a length of bamboo.

“Listen.” He gently flicked his fingernail against the top, causing a sharp, ringing chink.

“That sounds like glass.”

“It is.” He held it out to me. “Glass lightning.” His head bent in a small bow. “A gift, Lady Dragoneye.”

He placed it in my outstretched hands. It was very light and delicate, the rough, sandy surface edged with long ridges. I turned it on end; inside, it was a lustrous milky color, with tiny bubbles caught in pools of translucent glass. I smiled at its beauty. And its promise of power.

“Can I make one of these, too?”

“Of course,” Ido said. “This is how I was taught to separate energy. Lightning is concentrated and has a definite form as it comes to earth, so it is easier to recognize and catch.”

“How do you do it?”

“It is always about balance. Lightning is hot energy, so you catch it with cold.” He flicked the captured lightning again, making the glass ring. “You will see when we are in the energy world. I’ll block the ten dragons while you practice.”

I flexed my hands. The desire to commune with my dragon and finally use my true power was overwhelming, but so was my mistrust of Ido. What if he did not hold back the other dragons?

“You don’t trust me,” he said. “It is written plain on your face.”

“Why should I?”

“True,” he said. “Never rely on trust. Rely on the fact that neither of us wants to lose our power. And we cannot save it without each other.”

“Mutual survival,” I whispered. It was my original pledge to Kygo. The echo brought an ache to my throat.

Ido’s keen eyes watched me. “Exactly.”

I placed the glass lightning on the sand between us. “Show me how to make one of these.”

“Take your sandals off and press your feet into the earth’s energy, as well as your hands,” Ido ordered. “Use the gateways.”

I settled opposite him and dug my soles and palms past the warmth of the top sand to the cooler depths.

Ido gave a nod of approval and did the same. “Wait until I have united with my dragon, then follow.” He gave a knowing half-smile. “I believe you can now feel that moment within me.”

I stared down at the sand, bristling at his snort of amusement.

His breathing smoothed into the rhythm of mind-sight as silver flooded his eyes again. Then, deep within my body, I felt his joy as he called the Rat Dragon.

My turn.

Trying to ignore the sensual link to him, I focused on my own pathways of Hua. The air I drew in was warm and salty, the acrid remnants from the lightning strike lingering at its edges.

I held each breath in my Axis as Ido had taught me, the swell of energy slowly easing the tension in my body and opening the way into the celestial plane. Around me the beach shivered and folded into the streaming colors of the energy world: the surging silver of the water, the rainbow swirls of the earth and air, and the tiny specks of bright Hua that were the brief burn of circling flies.

“Good,” Ido said.

I watched the flow of Hua through the long meridians of his transparent body, spinning the seven points of power into dense vitality. Yet the dark gap still cut into the purple glow of his crown. Beyond him the villagers watched, their energy bodies bright against the dull backdrop of their cottages.

Above, the Rat Dragon circled the glory of my Mirror Dragon. The blue brilliance of his scales was like flowing water around the fiery crimson of her sinuous body. I could not tell if their power was diminished in any way — they were both magnificent. As if suddenly aware of my attention, the Rat Dragon turned, his white beard half covering the iridescent blue pearl tucked beneath his chin.

But I was already lost in the depthless spirit eyes of my dragon. She lowered the immense wedge of her head to me, and I saw the golden glow of the pearl at her throat. I called our shared name, my joy leaping to meet the rush of her answer. Golden power, warmed with deep, woody notes of cinnamon, filled my senses.

My mind-sight split between earth and heaven. Ido’s Hua body sat before my own on the warm sand of the beach. At the same time, I was high above the cove and village, watching the swirl of energy colors and ancient pulsing ley lines through my dragon’s eyes. Together, she and I looked inland, noting the Hua of many bodies moving toward the endless flux of the silvered sea. Around us the blue one circled, weaving power that blocked the relentless need of the other ten.

“The bereft dragons. They can’t feel us!” I said.

“We are shielding your presence from them,” Ido said. “We can’t hold it for long. Show your dragon what you want in your mind, then use your dragon sight to find the lightning.”

With a thrill of excitement, I pictured Ido’s frozen flame of energy, then opened myself to the dizzying shift into full dragon sight, my earthly body dropping away from my senses.

Below us, the world separated into walking, crawling, flying, surging Hua. We felt the ebb and flow of energy through us and gloried in the delicate balance. We turned our ancient eyes to the dark clouds, tasting the molten energy that snapped across the cooler heights of the above-world. We watched the tiny rips in the cold Hua, each one birthing a streak of forked heat.

Find it. The voice was barely a whisper, deep within me. Find it. Below.

The soft insistence broke through my concentration, pulling me back into my body.

“Did you say something?” Yet it did not feel like Ido’s mindvoice. Nor did it have the strength and pull of Kinra’s need.

“No.” Ido said. His silvery Hua leaped into a quicker flow through his meridians. “Is it the ten? Are they coming?”

“No!” I did not want to lose this chance to use my power. “It’s not them. It’s nothing.”

I clenched my teeth and pictured the lightning again, straining to hold the image as I called the Mirror Dragon. She was there, waiting, the embrace of her power once again raising me above my earthbound body and narrow senses. We spiraled into the bright energy world. Power flowed in and out of us, the exchange strong and smooth, beating a rhythm of balance and harmony. Our ancient eyes searched the sky, waiting for the—

Find it, the voice whispered. Below. Find it.

Below? Our attention switched to the ground. Hundreds of points of Hua had gathered in a neat fan on the hill above the village. Ranks of them. Slowly moving down toward the sea. Toward us.

Ranks?

“Ido, those are soldiers!” The sudden understanding wrenched me out of the energy world. I squinted in the harsh sunlight and pitched forward, reeling from the abrupt loss of my dragon connection. “Soldiers, not villagers!”

Ido’s hands caught me. “I know. I should have realized sooner.” His eyes were clear amber: no silver threaded through them.

“We have to warn the others,” I said. “I have to find Kygo.” I hauled myself upright, lurching to one side on the soft sand. My senses were still half caught in the energy world.

Ido stood, blocking my way. “It’s too late, Eona. There is no way they’ll hold back that many soldiers. You and I will have to stop them.”

His words pulled me up. “With our power? Like you did at the palace?” I shook my head, as much to stop the sickening memory of burning, screaming soldiers as to refuse. “I can’t do that.”

“You saw what’s coming over the hill. We are totally outnumbered.”

He was right. I looked up at the quiet village, spread around the crescent cove. In a few minutes it would be a battleground.

“I can’t kill people with my power.” I could barely carry the weight of the thirty-six who had already died at my hands.

“Not even to save your friends? Your beloved emperor?” He cocked his head. “Not even to save yourself, Eona?”

I looked back up at the village, my heart pounding. The dragons were for harmony, for life. Not killing. Not war.

“We can do it together,” Ido said. “I’ll hold off the ten dragons and you can use the lightn—”

I saw him register the same soft zing in the air as I did, a moment before the dull, wet thump of impact. He spun to the left and staggered a step, then crashed to his knees, eyes wide. An arrowhead protruded through his chest, blood seeping bright red into the dun cloth of his tunic. With an agonized gasp, he collapsed.

Yells erupted from behind the seawall as the villagers scattered. I dropped to the sand, instinct overriding shock. The arrow had come from high in the west cliffs. The closest cover was the upturned boat. I scrabbled to Ido on my hands and knees. He was on his side, hands pressed around the arrow shaft, panting. All color had drained from his face, and a soft sucking sound came from around the long metal arrowhead as blood welled between his fingers. The arrow had punctured his air. I had seen such wounds before: always fatal. I had to heal him. Fast.

“Ido, look at me.” His eyes were muddy, the skin around his lips already tinged with blue. “We’ve got to get behind the boat.”

Protest tightened his pale face, but I grabbed him under his left arm and pulled. The slight movement forced a groan out of him, and barely shifted his body. He was so heavy.

“Try,” I urged. “Try.”

He gulped for air and pushed his heels into the sand as I pulled on his arm again, but it did not help.

“Can’t,” he whispered. The effort to speak brought blood bubbling to the corner of his mouth.

“Eona!”

The frantic call jerked my head up. Two men were running across the sand toward us, swords drawn: Kygo, powering across the soft, sliding surface, and Caido, struggling to keep up with his emperor’s speed. Beyond the seawall, the other two guards were marshaling the villagers.

“We are surrounded!” Kygo yelled.

“Get down!” I screamed, torn between relief and fear. I pointed behind them. “Arrows.”

Immediately, both men ducked and zigzagged, but kept running. Kygo arrived first, showering Ido and me with sand, Caido close behind.

“Holy mother of Shola,” Kygo swore, taking in Ido’s injury. He grasped my arm. “Are you all right?”

I nodded. “I have to heal him. We don’t have much time.”

“You take one arm, I’ll take the other,” Kygo ordered Caido. “Get behind the boat, Eona.” He pushed me toward it.

I heard Ido’s wet moan as they hauled him to his feet and dragged him across the sand after me. I scrambled behind the boat and pressed myself against its solid shield. Kygo and Caido rounded the prow at a lopsided run, Ido slumped between them. Caido dropped his sword and braced Ido against his chest. With a small grunt of effort, he eased the Dragoneye down next to me. Kygo crouched at the end of the boat and cautiously peered around the edge.

“I’d say at least two companies, coming in from high ground,” he said. “And so far, only one arrow.” He looked back at Ido. “Straight for the main threat.”

“We’ve been betrayed,” Caido said.

“But is it one of the villagers?” Kygo returned to his tense watch. “Or one of our own?”

I pressed my hands to Ido’s ashen face. Icy skin, but damp with sweat. He was close to the shadow world.

“Ido, stay awake. I need you to block the ten dragons when I heal you.”

He widened his eyes, trying to focus on me through his shallow, labored breaths. “Again?” His smile was no more than a twitch of blue lips.

“Will your healing power destroy the arrow?” Caido asked.

I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

“Then we’ll have to get it out.” He touched the sleek feathered end protruding from Ido’s back. “That fletching has to come off before I can pull the shaft through his body,” he said. “Your Majesty, I’ll hold him still, if you cut.”

Kygo nodded and shifted into position, sword raised. “That fletching is imperial,” he said.

Caido nodded. “Short bolt for a mechanical bow.” He pulled Ido’s limp body against his chest, holding him in an iron grip. “Go,” he said.

One downward slice of Kygo’s blade and the fletching dropped to the sand. It was a clean, fast cut, but it still pushed the remaining shaft farther into Ido’s body, ripping a muffled scream from him. I grabbed his clawed hands.

The distant, unmistakable clash of metal against metal sent Kygo crawling back to the end of the boat. “The villagers have put up tuaga, but it’s not going to hold that many men back for long.” He looked around at us. “They are going to drive everyone onto the beach. No way back and no way forward. A death ground.” He picked up his sword. “Caido, guard Lady Eona.”

“Kygo, what are you doing?”

“They’ve broken through!” He launched himself into a low zigzagging run across the sand.

I rose on my knees, enough to see over the boat. With sword raised, Kygo was heading for three soldiers advancing across the beach. Along the seawall, villagers were using hooks and poles to defend their barricade against a vicious attack from ten or so pikemen. Ryko and Dela had marshaled a group of men to hold back more troops who were slowly forcing their way through the maze of tuaga spread across the main road. A line of long-bow archers, some of them women, stood on the seawall, firing into the ranks caught in the bottleneck created by the bamboo spikes.

I swallowed my fear and turned back to the task. “Caido, get that arrow out of Lord Ido.”

With a nod, Caido dug his knees farther into the sand, bracing himself. “My lady, at the moment it is plugging the puncture. When I pull it out you’re not going to have much time.”

“Do it.”

Caido’s thin face tensed. He reached around and hammered his palm against the stub of shaft in Ido’s back, pushing it through his body. Ido gasped and arched against the agony. With brutal speed, Caido grabbed the barbed shaft from the front and wrenched it out of Ido’s chest in a wet sucking release.

I dug my own feet into the sand, pressing the gateways into the earth’s energy. “Quick, lie him down.”

The Dragoneye grunted as his back hit the sand. I pressed my hands against the wound, blocking the escape of air, as Caido scooped up his sword and crawled to the edge of the boat.

The resistance man tensed, rising into a crouch. “My lady,” he said urgently. “His Majesty is in trouble.”

“Go,” I said. “Go.”

He pushed himself up as the sound of sword meeting sword clanged with quickening intensity. Caido roared a battle cry and ran to his emperor’s aid. I snatched a glance over the boat again. Kygo was fighting three men, the desperate struggle sending up showers of sand. For a moment I was frozen, caught between Kygo and Ido, both fighting for their lives.

Under my hands, Ido’s chest jerked in shallow pants, his blood warm and sticky on my skin. Right now, he was in more peril. I forced myself to take a shaking breath. I could do this; I had done it before. Another breath, this time steadier. Finally, on the third, I saw Ido’s solid body shift into energy, his seven points of power dull and getting darker with each labored beat of his heart. There was no silvery flow through the meridians along the right side of his body. On the next breath I called the Mirror Dragon, opening myself to her power with the urgent command: Heal.

Hua tore through me in joyous union, filling my body with the ecstasy of golden song and the majesty of dragon-sight. Below us, the battle on the seafront was a swarm of bright dots coming together and breaking apart in a desperate dance. We saw the blue one — his thin tether to the earthly body fading— trying to circle us, trying to protect, but the other ten had already felt our presence.

Heal! We gathered power from the endless ebb and flow of the sea, from the wild energy of the approaching cyclone, from the crisscross of lines that pulsed deep in the earth. We were Hua and our golden howl roared through the pathways of Ido’s body, knitting flesh and sinew, fusing dark pathways back into the smooth silvery flow of life. As one, his seven points of power burst back into spinning bright vitality, the black gap in his crown still present, still resisting my influence. Ido gasped — a long, raw breath that leaped through his Hua. The Rat Dragon shrieked, power pulsing across his blue scales, opal claws spreading. His energized body coiled into readiness, his huge head swinging left to right, scanning the below-world. The ten dragons were coming — and their need was greater than ever before.

“Eona!” Ido pulled me down on top of him. The sudden contact wrenched me back into my earthly body. His eyes, so close to mine, were all silver. “We can use the ten to stop the soldiers.”

Then I was back with the Mirror Dragon, the lift of her power pulling me into her sinuous strength. We rolled through the heavy clouds, our ruby claws slashing at the pressure that closed in on all sides. Beside us, the blue one shrieked again, twisting to meet the energy that circled in a high-pitched keen of ten sorrowing songs.

Their savage arrival slammed power across our body, knocking us backward through the air. We twisted, muscles straining to stop the impetus. A huge green body rammed us, emerald claws ripping through red scales. We screamed and ducked, our tail battering the bright green flank. The clash of Hua boomed across the sky. The Rabbit Dragon pounced, but the blue beast rammed him, and the huge pink body tumbled past.

Go lower. Ido’s mind-voice cut through the fury of dragon battle. To the soldiers.

We found the ranks of bright Hua streaming down the hill and dived toward them. The ten followed behind us in a shrieking, ragged circle. The Rat Dragon twisted through the air, claws and teeth driving the Ox and Tiger out of formation, flattening the circle of dragons into a lopsided crescent.

Now!

We opened our pathways, the familiar orange taste of his power roaring through us, drawing up our energy. But this time we were not left behind. This time we were riding the roiling wave of Hua with Ido and the blue beast. Around us, the dragons were trying to re-form their circle. We had to stop them.

Bind the lightning, Ido ordered.

We felt the blue beast harvesting the tiny cold sparks of energy within the clouds, drawing them into the burning rush of our united power. We clawed at a bright flicker, pulling it into the rolling force. Deep within us we heard a howling song of destruction, a churning mix of gold and silver power spiked with the flashing fire of lightning.

Eona, aim it at the soldiers. How?

Channel, like you do when you heal.

We felt our combined power gather into a crest, hanging for a moment as if offering the chance to step back. And then it broke, crashing into a rush of devastation.

With all our strength we tried to channel it downward, but most of it flooded through our unpracticed grasp and slammed into the ten beasts around us. Their circle broke across the celestial plane. Shrieking, they vanished, leaving the bitter taste of despair.

Ido and the Rat Dragon were not so clumsy. With iron control, they sent destruction into the earth below. The fireball of lightning and power ripped through the bright points of Hua marching toward the village, obliterating the ranks of soldiers in its roaring path. Flames washed across the hill, the savage energy glowing through the celestial plane like a false dawn. Dirt and rock and ash spun upward into high arcs, then fell across the village and beach in a dark driving rain. The battle lines broke as screaming people ran for cover from the pelting debris.

I gasped, dragged back into my earthly body by the sudden sharp impact of a rock that sent hot pain through my shoulder. I blinked through a blur of tears, the heat and shape beneath me coalescing into Ido’s body, the tight wrap of his arms holding me against his chest.

“It’s not finished yet,” he said.

He rolled over until I was under him, the full length of his body shielding me, his weight braced on his elbows. The aftershock boomed across the beach, the sand shifting under us, a fine layer of ash sweeping across our skin in a hot wind. Ido winced as stones thudded against his back and clumps of earth exploded around us in plumes of dust.

“It will stop in a moment,” he said, glancing up at the leaden sky.

The wild savagery of the dragon battle and the exhilaration of power slipped away from me. I was hollow, a shell made of distant screaming, falling ash, and the dank stench of incinerated land and people.

“What did we do?” I whispered, horror locking me under him.

“We stopped Sethon from killing everybody and taking us.” He touched my wet cheek with a bloodstained finger. The coppery tang echoed the drifting smell of death in the air. “You should be celebrating.”

Celebrate? When all I could see was the image of all those soldiers on the hillside extinguished in just one fiery moment. “We killed them all. So fast.”

He watched me, his brows drawn into a small frown. “It was us or them, Eona. Your power just saved all your friends.”

Although it was true, I shook my head, unable to find words for the desolation that pierced my spirit.

“You are too tender.” Hesitantly, he cupped my cheek in his hand. “You will be undone if you think of them as men. They are your enemy.”

“Is that what you do?”

“No, I do this.” He lowered his mouth to mine. I closed my eyes, part of me knowing I should push him away — the other part longing for a moment that held life, not death.

I felt Ido’s body tense and opened my eyes. The tip of a sword slid along his jaw, forcing his head back. Kygo stood over us. Under the streaks of ash and sweat, his face was white with fury. “Get off her.”

The shock in Ido’s eyes hardened into rage. Slowly, he pushed himself away from my body, the sword guiding him back on to his knees.

“Are you all right?” Kygo asked me. His voice snapped like a whip.

I nodded. Somewhere in the village, a child wailed, the heartrending sound rising above the other calls and shouts; closer, the sporadic sounds of steel meeting steel echoed through the blanketing quiet of the drifting dust.

Kygo shifted the sword against Ido’s throat. “Did you make that fireball?”

Ido’s lips were drawn back into a snarl. “You should thank us,” he said. “Lady Eona and I saved your precious resistance.”

Kygo’s eyes fixed on me. “You did that, Eona?”

I curled my body against the boat, away from the awe in his voice. “You were outnumbered. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

Kygo stepped back from Ido and lowered the sword. The Dragoneye rubbed the thin line of blood that the blade had pressed from his skin.

“Now you have your army of two, Your Majesty,” he said acidly. “Tried and tested.”

I stared at the Dragoneye. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t be naïve, Eona.” Ido shot a malicious glance at Kygo. “Do you think he got me out of the palace to nurture crops and redirect rain? I am here as a weapon, and you are here to blunt or sharpen my blade at his command.”

I looked at Kygo. “That’s not true, is it?”

Kygo straightened. “You said it yourself, Eona — we are outnumbered. We will always be outnumbered. I swear I never wanted you to break the Covenant. I just wanted you to control him.” He nodded at Ido. “He has no problem killing people.”

Ido laughed, a sharp bitter sound. “You are not so different from your uncle.”

Kygo’s hand tightened around the hilt of his sword.

“When were you going to tell me about this, Kygo?” My voice sounded distant, as if I stood lengths away from myself.

“When we got to the eastern rendezvous. Before the final strike.”

I stood up. “Well, now I know.” Beyond the boat, the bodies of three soldiers lay on the sand. Caido looked up from salvaging their fallen weapons as I rounded the prow.

“Eona,” Kygo called behind me. “I was going to ask you.”

I looked over my shoulder. “Thank you for that consideration, Your Majesty.”

Wrapping my arms around my body, I walked steadily toward the battle-torn village, the huge blackened gouge in the hill above it like a long, deep scar.