Eona: The Last Dragoneye

CHAPTER NINETEEN

I HAD NOT lied to my mother — I did need to sleep. Master Tozay assigned me the chief mate’s quarters farther along the mid-deck. It was a cramped cabin, but one of the few private spaces on the ship. The narrow bunk was set into a nook created by two tall cupboards at head and foot, and a low bank of storage lockers above. I stretched out on the bed and tried to ignore the boxed-in sensation and the dank smell. If I’d not had the oil lamp burning, it would have felt like a tomb.

Under my fatigue and discomfort, another kind of restlessness scratched at my spirit and kept me awake. At first, I thought it was the enigma of my mother’s rhyme. What would the Rat take — the pearl, or something else? And what would the dragon break to wake the empire? The Covenant, the pearl, my word … my heart? There was no doubt that it meant Ido and me, but was it a prophecy or a warning?

Even after I had exhausted the rhyme’s grim possibilities, the scratchy unease kept my eyes wide open and my body shifting against the hemp mattress. The pitch of the junk had deepened, the plunge and sway not quite rhythmic enough to lull me to sleep. Finally, I gave in to the need to move and the hankering for fresh air.

I lurched along the creaking passageway, my approach watched by Ido’s guard. The Dragoneye’s jail — a hastily cleared storage compartment — was near the steps that led to both the upper deck and down below, where the crew lived and, for now, our troop was quartered. Under the junk’s rolling progress, I heard the murmur of their voices and saw the dim glow of lamplight rising up the steps. The guard ducked his head in a duty bow as I passed and climbed into the night.

The slap of fresh air made me gasp. Those sailors on duty and watch marked my arrival in the swinging light of the lanterns, but turned back to their windblown tasks. I made my way across the deck to the thick railing, the dipping roll of the junk every now and again sending me into an inelegant lurch. I found the rail and pressed the lower half of my body against the security of its solid wall.

Spray from the cut of our passage dusted my face with water and the taste of salt. Above, the dark sky bore down upon us, the banks of cloud like a huge bulwark between heaven and earth. As I watched a fork of lightning flash deep within them, I realized the source of my driving need for space and air; the approaching cyclone was affecting my Hua. Was this something that always happened to a Dragoneye? If I was this unsettled, Ido must be crawling up the walls of his narrow prison.

A stocky figure strode along the deck toward me with practiced balance: Master Tozay. I lifted my hand in greeting.

He stopped beside me. “Good evening, Lady Eona.”

“Not really, is it?” I said, tilting my head back at the sky.

“No.” He followed my gaze. “We will outrun most of it, but I think the edge will catch us. These weather patterns are the most bizarre I have ever seen.”

“Where is His Majesty?” I asked.

“Sleeping.” Tozay turned toward me, his thickset body blocking the wind that snatched at our words. With a gesture to his ears, he ushered me to the three-sided shelter created by the high horseshoe-shaped stern deck.

We stepped into the windbreak, the sudden release from the spray and rushing air making me cough. A single lantern, fixed beside a hatch that led below, cast our shadows along the deck. Tozay signaled to a man coiling ropes nearby to move away.

“I have a question for you, Lady Eona,” Tozay said, as the man obediently headed farther along the deck. “Why are you fighting for His Majesty?”

His tone was a return to our discussion in the boat. I settled my body more firmly into the rise and fall of the junk. “He is the true heir. He is—”

“No.” Tozay lifted his hand, stopping me. “I am not looking for an avowal of loyalty or defense of his claim, Lady Eona. I am asking you why you think he is a better choice than Sethon. Why you have joined this fight.”

The question held an intensity that demanded an answer in kind. I paused, and gave it thought.

“He is his father’s son, but he is his own man, too,” I said slowly. “He understands tradition, but he can step beyond it with the energy of renewal. He knows the strategies of war and power, but unlike Sethon, they are not his first love. His love is the land and the people, and he places his duty above all.” I smiled wryly. “He once told me that an emperor should have one truth tattooed upon his body: No nation has ever benefited from a protracted war.”

“From the wisdom of Xsu-Ree,” Tozay said. “Chapter Two.”

“That is strange,” I said sharply. “His Majesty also told me that only kings and generals were permitted to read Xsu-Ree’s treatise.”

I caught the flash of Tozay’s rare smile. “That is my understanding, too.” He leaned on the side partition that supported the small deck above us and looked out across the sea, his profile once more stern. “His Majesty will not ask you to break the Covenant again.”

“Why do you say that?”

Tozay grunted. “I could give you his complicated explanation about you being a symbol of hope, and the need for something that is not tainted by the corruption of power, and the Hua-do of the people.” He turned to face me. “But, in the end, it is because he loves you. He does not want you to suffer.”

Although his statement of Kygo’s love leaped through my blood, I shook my head. “His Majesty will not put his personal feelings above his land and his people. He has told me so.”

“That is what I always thought, but that has changed. For you.” Tozay’s eyes met mine, their expression unreadable. “Xsu-Ree also says that one of the five essentials of victory is a competent general unhampered by his sovereign. As Kygo’s general, my directive is to defeat Sethon. I am asking you for the power to help me do that.”

I gripped a carved scroll on the side partition, steadying myself. “His general? I thought you were a simple fisherman, Master Tozay.”

He gave a gruff laugh. “And I thought you were a lame boy with no chance of becoming a Dragoneye. We are all more— and less — than what we seem, Lady Eona.”

I stared into the water swelling and surging around the junk as we cut through its night-dark depths. A pressure was building within me, a need to release the burden of all the secrets and lies. I could tell Tozay everything. I could tell him that the dragon power was ending and that the only way to save it seemed to be the Imperial Pearl. I could tell him that the black folio was on its way to us, and that maybe — hopefully — there was another way within it to save the dragon power that would not lead to Kygo’s death. I could even tell him that the folio could bind Dragoneye power to the will of a king.

“Has His Majesty told you about the portent?” I asked, feeling my way. The slap of the water against the hull was like the beat of a drum.

Tozay nodded. “Do you think your portent is bound in any way to this war?”

“I don’t know.”

He lifted a dismissive shoulder. “Like Xsu-Ree, I do not put much stock in omens or portents. They create confusion and fear where there should be will and control. The ways of gods are for priests to unravel. I believe in strategy and the means to effect that strategy.”

“And I am a means to your strategy,” I said flatly.

He inclined his head. “As I am. As Lord Ido is, as we all are. History does not care about the suffering of the individual. Only the outcome of their struggles.”

“And you will use all the means you have to defeat Sethon?”

Tozay’s gaze did not waver. “To their utmost limits. And, if needs be, beyond.”

I felt a chill at the innocuous word. Beyond. Who decided when beyond stopped? Part of me longed to tell Tozay everything — let him take on the burden of this knowledge and sort through its terrible intricacies and consequences. But another part drew back. Tozay would use everything he had to win, and the black folio had something within its pages that could force me into a beyond that I did not want to imagine.

“What is your answer, Lady Eona? Will you place all your power under his command — under my command?”

I felt the taste of ash rise into my mouth. Yet Kygo and the hope he brought were worth the fight. And maybe even the cost.

“I will, General Tozay,” I said.

He bowed.

May the gods forgive me, I added silently. May they forgive me for agreeing to break the Covenant again, and for not trusting even Tozay with the secret of the black folio.

After my encounter with Tozay, I knew sleep was even more of a vain hope, but I stepped over the lip of the hatch onto the steep stairs that led to my cabin. Below me, in the gloom, a man sat hunched on the bottom step, bald head in hands. Ido’s guard watched him, arms crossed. I trod heavily as I descended, the slap of my sandals twisting the seated man around. He looked up. Not bald — bandaged — and not a man. It was Dela. She stood as I reached the deck, her smile strained.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

I glanced at the guard’s renewed interest and drew Dela back toward the steps that led down to the crew’s quarters. In the soft light of the stair lamp, I saw the reddened edges of her eyes. “Is something wrong? Have you found something bad in the folio?”

“No.” She licked her lips. “I have a favor to ask.”

At the corner of my sight, I saw a shift of shadow on the steps below.

“Of course. What is it?”

“I want you to heal me.” She touched the bandage along her cheek.

“Is it getting worse? Is your jaw locking?”

“No. I am all right.”

“Why do you want me to heal you, then?” I pulled back.

“You know if I do, I’ll have your will. Vida says your injury will right itself.”

“I know.” Her voice cracked. “But I still want you to do it.”

“Not if I don’t have to, Dela.”

“Can’t you just do it because I ask? Please.”

“Are you afraid of being disfigured?”

“No, it is not that. “ She angled her face away from me. “Can’t you see? If you heal me, we will be the same. Ryko and I will be the same.”

The flicker of shadow surged into a big body launching itself up the steps at us. The light caught the work of his muscles across his chest and the liquid dread in his eyes.

“No!” Ryko boomed, hauling himself onto the deck. “You will not do that.”

Dela spun around. “Why not?”

The islander grabbed her shoulder. “Do you think I want that for you?” For a moment, his eyes caught mine, the fear in them snapping to fury. “Do you think I want you to be caught in her ghost world, too?”

Words rose to defend myself, but I quelled them and stepped back. This was their matter, and it was best they be alone.

“At least I would be with you!” Dela seized the edge of my tunic, stopping my retreat. “Do not leave, Eona. I want you to heal me.”

“No!” Ryko said. “Please, Dela, don’t do it. Not for me. I could not bear it.”

She reached for his hand, but he snatched it away as if he had touched royalty, and stepped back into a bow. “Forgive me.”

“I cannot bear this, Ryko.” Dela gestured at the careful space he had created. “This standing apart, to save later hurt. It doesn’t work. I hurt now!”

“It is better this way.” The torment on his face gave lie to his words.

“You know it is not.” She closed the distance between them and laid her hand on his chest, her body swaying toward him. “I would be dead now if that sword had struck my head at a deeper angle. Do you think you would have saved yourself any hurt, Ryko?”

His eyes were fixed on her hand. Slowly he shook his head.

“Then stop being such a noble idiot,” she whispered.

“I just want to keep you from any hurt.”

“You can’t.”

She touched the pain on his face. Gently, he drew her against his chest, her head fitting neatly under his chin. She leaned into him, her slim body engulfed by the wrap of his arms. He kissed her bandaged forehead, the tenderness bringing an ache to my throat.

I quickly turned and saw Ido’s guard peering around the rise of the steps.

“Return to your post,” I ordered, blocking his view with my body.

With a bow, he backed away. I followed him, resisting the urge to glance over my shoulder. The guard took his position again in front of Ido’s jail. Although I intended to walk straight past, I found myself stopping outside the wooden door. The back of my neck crawled with the energy of the approaching cyclone.

“Has Lord Ido said anything?” I asked the guard.

The man shook his head. “I’ve not heard a sound, my lady.”

With a nod, I made my way down the passageway to the loneliness of my own narrow cell.

I woke with a jolt, my face only a fingertip away from the bunk wall. The cabin lamp was still alight, its yellow glow steadfastly fixed despite the steep rise and fall of the ship. The slap and boom of waves against the hull resonated through the wood, and I could hear the wind screaming, the eerie sound like a dragon in pain. I rolled onto my back, struggling to kick off the blanket, and saw a figure crouch down beside the bunk. With the energy of terror, I gathered my legs under me and levered myself to the top of the bed, every sense coming together to recognize Ido.

“What are you doing?” I gasped.

He held his finger to his lips. “Quietly, Eona. If I’m found here, Kygo will rip my heart out.”

I lowered my voice. “How did you get out?”

“Your constant link to me seems to have broken,” he said with a tense smile.

His other hand gripped the edge of the bed as the junk plunged and rose sharply, the wood groaning around us. Beneath all of Ido’s smooth control, there was an uncharacter-istic urgency that alarmed me almost as much as finding him crouched in my cabin.

“What do you want?”

“Right now, I want to survive the next few bells. Have you felt the cyclone?”

Involuntarily, I rubbed the back of my neck. The crawling sensation had hardened into pain.

He nodded. “It has doubled its pace and shifted. The edge will hit us in a bell or so. We are not going to outrun it.”

My unease burst into cold fear. Nearly everyone I loved was on this ship. “We should tell Master Tozay.”

Ido looked up as another grinding moan resonated through the wood. “It is already too late.”

“Can we do something to stop it?”

“It is why I am here.”

“I thought we weren’t strong enough to do anything.”

“We’re not if I have to fend off ten dragons as well as work the elements.”

“But you don’t.” A deep plunge rocked us. I grabbed the edge of the storage unit above. “The dragons only come for me. You could go in alone.”

Ido rose and sat on the end of the bunk. “Eona, I am not strong enough to control the cyclone by myself. It usually takes all the beasts and Dragoneyes to redirect such force.”

“So can we or can’t we do something?”

“I have had an idea.” He rubbed his mouth. “It is one that has unknown risks for both of us.”

“What is it?”

“Bypass the ten dragons by compelling me.” His eyes held mine. “But let me take that power and use it to get us out of the cyclone.”

“You mean the compulsion I used when I made you call Dillon?” I flushed, remembering the way his pleasure had curled back upon me.

“That holds the most power between us.”

Although I still wore my tunic and trousers, I pulled up the blanket. It would be a big risk; every time I used those pathways was a chance for Ido to find a way to block them.

“Will that work?” I asked.

“Possibly.” He watched me. “But are you willing to do it without Kygo’s knowledge?”

“Why should we keep it from him?”

“Did you tell him about your new way of controlling me?”

I looked away from his keen scrutiny. “No.”

“Well, someone has. Perhaps your islander guard? He certainly felt the difference when you first used it.”

I shifted uneasily. “What makes you think Ryko told him?”

Ido lifted his hands to his tunic collar, and in one smooth movement pulled the garment over his head.

“What are you doing?” I demanded, pressing myself back against the bunk head.

He threw the tunic onto the bed. The yellow lamplight highlighted the dark purple bruising across his ribs. “I would say Kygo is aware of your new way of controlling me.” His voice was dry. “He will forbid you from doing this, and place his faith in Tozay. Will you obey him like a good little girl? Or will you be the Ascendant Dragoneye and take control of your own power?”

I stared at the damage on Ido’s body. “He did that?”

“Yuso, on his Majesty’s behalf.”

I shook my head. “No, that was Yuso, on his own behalf. Kygo would have done it himself.” I ignored the Dragoneye’s snort of disbelief. “If we do this, Ido, we do it with Kygo’s knowledge. Tozay has asked me to place all of my power at Kygo’s command — beyond the Covenant — and I have said yes.”

“You’ve done what?” Ido stared at me, aghast. “You haven’t told him about the black folio, have you?”

I lifted my chin. “Not yet.”

He leaned across and gripped my forearm. “Not ever, girl.”

I tried to wrench away, but he did not let go.

“Do I have to paint you a picture?” he said. “If Kygo gets the black folio, he will bind me first — that is without question — but it won’t stop there. You are the Mirror Dragoneye. Your power will always be greater than anything he takes from me, and that will make you a threat. Perhaps not at first, but something will sour between you — maybe you’ll not agree about a war, maybe he’ll start seeing enemies where there used to be allies, or maybe he will just tire of you as a woman. But he will bind you, too.” Ido released me. “In the end, power is always used to gain more power. That is the nature of the beast.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I understand men, and I understand power, Eona.” The ship pitched sharply. I grabbed the edge of the bed as he steadied himself with a hand against the wall. “He has already seen his opportunity and asked you to break the Covenant again. Even after he swore on the beach it was not his plan.”

“Tozay asked me. Not Kygo.”

“They are the same, Eona. Can’t you see they are manipulating you?” He reached up and cupped my chin. “Poor Eona. His Majesty will press for more and more — through Tozay, or whoever else he uses — until he realizes he has created something that threatens his own power. We all know how that ends.”

“That will not happen.” My protest sounded too small against the howling storm outside. “He loves me.”

“He has asked you to go against your spirit. Is that the act of a lover?”

I pulled away from his hold. “What do you know about love?”

His eyes flickered. “I know that love is about power, too. Who gives, who takes. Who is willing to risk showing their true self.”

The intensity of his expression sent heat crashing through my body.

He bent his head, running his thumb across the rope-cut around his wrist. “You have forced your way into my Hua, Eona. Changed me. First, by your power — then, just by who you are.” He raised his head and there was no guard upon his expression. The raw need caught my breath. “You have seen me at my worst and at my weakest. Let me show you my best. Help me save this boat and everyone on board like a true Dragoneye.”

I gaped at him, unable to force my mind past the avowal of love. For that was what it was, wasn’t it? Yet Lord Ido did not love anything except power.

“What are you saying?” I finally managed.

The intensity gave way to a smile that held his wry humor. “I was wondering if you would help me save our lives. The rest relies upon us surviving.”

Had he really changed? And what did he mean by the rest?

“Eona?”

His urgent voice brought me back to the priority in front of us: survival. “All right.”

Ido pushed himself back against the other end of the bunk, into the corner made by the three-sided enclosure, and braced himself. “I’ll go into the energy world. As soon as I am with my dragon, compel me.”

He was wasting no time. Each breath he took was smoother, deeper, until I felt the thrill of his communion with the Rat Dragon and saw the burst of silver across his eyes. The joy on his face sharpened my ever-present yearning for my own dragon. On a breath, I pushed past that deep ache and concentrated on the rhythm of my heart, reaching out with my Hua for the pulse of Ido’s life-force. There was a moment of resistance and then his heartbeat slid under mine, the fusion so fast it made me gasp. This was the level of my control that he had already conquered; I could feel the history of it within his Hua, like a soft whispered defiance.

“We are ready,” he said.

I found the desire within myself — too easily — and sought the route that would take me into the heart of his hungering. We both cried out as my compulsion locked in and roared across his energy, subjugating its fire with my own.

But how could I pass him the power? Instinct told me that the only way was physical touch. I hesitated, knowing the man’s strength, then crawled across the bunk. His hands were flat against the wooden walls, his head craned back into the corner as he resisted the impulse to fight my control. I edged alongside him and reached to press my hands against his chest, but the boat plunged, jolting me backward. My reflexes caught the edge of the bunk wall in a wild grip, stopping my fall.

“Eona!” he rasped. “Hurry.”

I had to anchor myself long enough to pass the power. The straining muscles across his bare chest and shoulders held both menace and a sensuality that pulled me closer. I straddled his legs, knowing his body was under my control, but also knowing that at any moment it could change. With a deep breath, I pressed my palms against his chest, the contact forcing a low grunt from him. But there was no shift of energy.

“Take it,” I said.

“Can’t.” He forced his head down, the silver in his eyes threading thin enough for the amber to show through. “You have to give it.”

“How?”

The answer thundered in my blood and the race of his heart under my hands.

The power was built on sensual desire. I had to give him my desire.

The peril of it was like another pulse pounding in my body. My desire for Ido was not the same as my desire for Kygo. With Ido, it felt dangerous and double-edged; one side honed by hate, the other a jagged edge of need, not love.

But we had to save the boat.

With a prayer to Kinra, I released my dark attraction to the man. It leapt through me, pushing me against him. I dug my fingers into his hair and wrenched his head back, slamming it against the wall. For a moment the silver of his eyes snapped into amber again, the pain flaring into pleasure, then his eyes silvered back into the energy world.

His response burst through me like a rush of victory. I bent and covered his mouth with mine, finding the taste of him — orange and vanilla, like his dragon — the sweetness doubled by his communion with the beast. He rocked forward and drew his legs up behind me. I met the rough demand of his tongue and teeth with my own. Power jumped through us like an arc of lightning, and I felt the heat of his low laugh against my lips. His body arched toward me, his hands gripping the curve of my hips and pulling me closer.

Our hearts pounded together, power rising through the melded beat and the ragged rhythm of our breathing. It was locked between us, a spiral of energy that was like molten metal pouring through my pathways into his Hua. I felt him gather its force, his sweet union with the Rat Dragon seeping into our shared power. I could feel the blue beast’s presence, its own massive power boosted by the energy.

In a dizzying wrench, the cabin was gone. I was high above the boat, anchored in orange-vanilla power, the pleasure in my earthly body a distant thunder. Through ancient dragon eyes, I saw the raging silver water and violent swirling yellow of the cyclone winds roaring below me, bearing down on our tiny vessel. Driving rain slashed the building seas and claws of light stuttered across the dark sky, their flashes penetrating the celestial plane. Nearby, the Mirror Dragon shrieked, all her crimson beauty before me — so close, but unreachable.

Eona? Ido’s mind-voice, shocked by my presence. As shocked as I was.

I am with you.

I felt the power between us surge into the blue dragon, his muscular body rippling with energy. Ido’s joy flooded me as he and the beast amassed all our strength into one purpose — an arrow for the eye of the massive storm. With sinuous control, they harvested high ice, freezing winds, and sparks of new lightning, weaving them into a massive bolt of cold energy. I felt the huge effort of man and dragon as they drove it into the warm center of the circling winds, piercing the delicate balance of the cyclone’s Hua.

For a terrifying moment, nothing happened, and then one side of the yellow maelstrom collapsed, pulling its deadly force away from our boat. Huge dragon muscles coiled and sprang, blocking the wild under-surge of winds. The cyclone swirled toward the land, its ragged edges curling around a smaller center. I felt every delicate shift of power between man and beast as they wrestled the remnants of its collapsed fury into a driving wind that pushed our tiny vessel across the silvered waves toward its far-off goal.

I reveled in Ido’s command of his dragon and the majesty of their union. The Mirror Dragon and I could be like that — we could rule the elements, rule the Hua of the world.

For a heartbeat, I was back in the cabin — Ido’s mouth on mine, the shift of his heavy muscles under my hands, and the rush of power mixed with the building heat of pleasure.

Then we were above the boat again, spinning into exhilaration, the tiny points of Hua on deck, crawling across its surface, safe, all safe. Out of the ravening fury of the circling winds and sweeping rains. So much power pulsing through us.

A painful grip on my shoulders yanked me back into my body, into the cabin. I was being dragged off the bunk. I hit out, my desperate punch catching my assailant in the chest.

“Stupid girl!”

Ryko’s voice. I twisted around in his brutal grip and saw his snarl of disgust. He shoved me against the far wall, then turned back to the Dragoneye. Dela stood in the doorway, her face white.

Ido lunged at the islander. “What are you doing? What—”

His protest was stopped by Ryko’s fist. Ido fell against the back of the bunk, hands to his face. The islander leaned in and grabbed him by the hair, hauling him out and slamming him against the wall in one savage move.

“Get your—”

“Shut up!” Ryko thrust his face up to the Dragoneye’s, daring him to move or speak.

“Lord Ido! You must go back now,” Dela said. “They will realize it is dragon power. If His Majesty finds you in here, you’ll die!” She grabbed his arm, her courtier’s eyes raking over the room. “Is that his tunic?”

I snatched up the garment and held it out. She snagged it from my hand, her mouth tightening. “I hope you know what you are doing.”

“We were saving the boat!” I said.

The islander spun around to face me. “I know — I felt it!” He stabbed his finger at my dishevelment. “You’d better make up some story. Something that doesn’t involve the two of you together.”

Dela pulled Ido into the passage, Ryko casting one last scathing look at me before following them. I took a step toward the door, then stopped. What could I tell Kygo? Power still thrummed through my body, Ido’s touch hot on my skin. I looked around the cabin. The mattress was askew. With shaking hands I pushed it back into place and straightened my tunic, trying to find composure — and a convincing lie. I wiped my mouth, feeling my torn lip. I pressed my finger against the damage, the tiny pain an echo of the sharp shame building within me.

I had paced the length of the cabin five times before the sounds of footsteps turned me back to the door. Kygo filled its narrow frame, Tozay behind him. Both men were soaked. Kygo had been up on the main deck, too — always rushing into the fray. An errant thought sent useless dread through my body — if he had stayed below, in Master Tozay’s cabin, he would have heard us. I dropped into a low bow, glad to hide my face for a moment.

“Lady Eona, was that you? Did you calm the waters? Tozay says only dragon power could do that to the storm.” I felt his hand touch my shoulder, drawing me out of the bow. I stood and forced myself to meet his elation. Surely he could read the truth in my eyes?

“Yes.”

Kygo took my hand, his skin cold against my heat. “How did you do it? I thought you could not work your power without Ido’s protection from the other dragons?”

I steeled myself; this lie was going to be difficult. “I can, for a short time, Your Majesty. Although I could only push us a little way from the storm.” I looked past Kygo to Tozay. “I hope it is enough, Master Tozay. I cannot do any more.”

“It is, Lady Eona,” Tozay said. “You have saved us all. Thank you.” He bowed.

“But how?” Kygo would not be deflected.

“I have learned a great deal from Lord Ido, Your Majesty.” Four years of lying to survive kept my gaze steady and my voice calm. “It is why we rescued him from Sethon.”

Kygo’s gaze was just as steady. “It is good to know he is worth all the trouble.” He smiled. “Your power is, indeed, becoming formidable.”

“It is in your service, Your Majesty,” I said.

I caught his glance back toward Tozay. “So I have heard.” Was Ido right? Was Kygo manipulating me?

“You have hurt your lip.” He touched the fullness of his own mouth.

“I must have bitten myself,” I said, glad he could not also see the race of my heart or the sharp rending of my spirit.