Eona (4 page)

Focus
. It was Lord Ido's mind-voice, piercing the frenzy.
Block!

How? I didn't know how!

My mind-sight plunged into the earthbound room—Tozay hauling Ryko upright—then lurched back into dragon-sight and the rolling battle across the sky. Below us, the sea was a boiling mass of energy, ramming tiny boats against the rocks and sweeping away a line of waterfront cottages. A dozen or so bright dots of
Hua
ran from the village buildings, the wall of water crashing over them, extinguishing their light.

“Eona.” It was Dela, pulling at my earthly body.

For a moment, I came to myself and met her wild eyes. The walls were collapsing, creaking under the pounding power of a searing wind.

“Move,” she yelled, pulling me toward the doorway as Tozay carried Ryko out into the courtyard.

Eona!
Ido's mind-scream wrenched me back into the Mirror Dragon. We swirled, claws flailing against the agile pink Rabbit Dragon. Above, the Rat Dragon collided with the Tiger Dragon, the impact resonating through Ido's mind into our union.

For a bewildering second, we were in another room—a stone room—wrists and ankles shackled, pain pulsing through our flogged and broken body. Ido's body. Another shock wave as Ido's dragon slammed into the other beast again, and suddenly we were small, crouched under a bush, black book open, dark words burning our mind—Dillon, screaming,
Find Eona, find Eona, find Eona
. Then he was gone, and we were back in the sky above the crumbling fisher house, claws slashing, shrieking our defiance. Around us the ten bereft dragons were closing the circle.

They must not close the circle, Ido's mind-voice rasped with pain and alarm. Give me your power
.

No!

Below, Dela staggered out into the courtyard, half carrying my earthly body.

They will tear you apart. You will die. Give me your power!

No!

The combined power of the ten dragons battered us. We could not hold out much longer, but we could not give our power to Ido. Not after his brutal grab for it at the palace.

Help me stop them!
Fear sharpened Ido's mind-voice.

Ten stark songs of mourning pounded against us, searching for the relief of union.

There was nowhere else to go. We did not have enough power, enough knowledge. With a howl of despair, we opened our pathways to Ido.

His desperate power burst through us, drawing up all our golden energy. We were emptied, defenseless. As one, the ten bereft dragons rushed at us, their need circling like a vise. With iron control, Ido and the Rat Dragon gathered our energies, binding them with the shrieking wind and crashing water.

Prepare!
Ido's mind voice yelled.

He threw the massive weight of power outward, the strain searing through his mind into us. The booming explosion ripped through the circle of dragons, knocking them backward. Below us, the remains of the fisher house spun into the dark sky, the rest of the cliff collapsing into the sea.

Block now!
Ido roared.

But we did not know how. The shockwave of power hit us like a hammer, slamming me back into my own body. For a moment, I saw Dela's face above mine, her strong arms cradling my head. I screamed, pain pulsing through every part of my being. But the agony was not all mine.

Help me
, Ido's mind-voice gasped.
I can't—

Then swirling blackness dragged me away from his tortured scream.

CHAPTER TWO

MY WHOLE BODY JERKED,
forcing my eyes open. A white blur sharpened into the arch of a cotton canopy, sunshine flaring through its tied-down edges. I squinted against the light and the nagging pain in my temple. Another jolt rocked me and intensified the midsummer smell of straw. I was lying on a pallet, in an enclosed traveling cart. Gingerly, I raised my head and peered through an ill-fitting wood joint at the moving landscape. Terraced rice fields, the yellowing harvest flattened under high water.

“My lady?”

Ryko rose from somewhere near my feet, swaying as the cart hit a rut. For a moment, I was still in the fisher house, my hand on his laboring heart, then the memory shifted and I was back in the cart with Ryko before me. Alive and smiling. Awe caught my breath: we had saved him, the Mirror Dragon and I. But was he fully healed? Even as I opened my mouth to ask, a dizzying barrage of images swamped me: the golden song, the ten bereft dragons, the battle.

Lord Ido.

“He was in my mind again!” My voice was a dry croak. I struggled up on my elbows. “Ido was in my mind!”

And Dillon, too, for a moment. I was sure of it, although the image of him was not clear. I could still feel his terror.

Ryko moved toward me. He was favoring his right side. “What do you mean, my lady?”

“Ido drove back the other dragons.” An echo of our mind union shuddered through me, doubling the pain in my head. So much power.

“Lord Ido was not in the village, my lady.”

“No, he was in my mind again.” Ryko winced as I clutched his arm. “He was in my mind. I had to let him. Do you see? I had to let him or we would have died or—”

“What do you mean, in your mind?” Ryko pulled away, the sudden distrust in his voice silencing me. “Surely Ido is dead.”

“No.” I closed my eyes, once again feeling the weight of iron shackles and the raw agony of flogged skin. “Sethon holds him prisoner. I saw through his eyes. I think he's dying.” I felt a small surge of pity.

Ryko grunted. “A just end.”

“Only if he could die twenty times over,” I said quickly. Ido did not deserve my pity.

I sat up into a wave of dizziness and flung out a hand, finding an anchor against the wooden side-panel.

“Ryko, is she awake? Is she all right?” It was Dela's voice, calling from outside the cart.

A large front hatch slid open to show the laboring rumps of two harnessed oxen. A familiar figure was walking alongside, guiding the beasts: Solly, his bulbous features made even more grotesque by scabbed cuts and grazes. He smiled and bowed, then Dela leaned in and blocked my view. She was no longer disguised as a fisherman. Instead, she wore the black cap and blue high-collared robe of a successful merchant.

“Are you all right, Eona?” She scanned my face. “We thought you would never come back to your senses. How do you feel?”

I licked my lips, suddenly aware of the dry need in my body. “Thirsty. And sick,” I said. “My head hurts. How long has it been?”

She glanced at Ryko, the moment heavy with warning. “Two days,” she said.

“Two days?” I searched their faces. “Truly?”

They both nodded, but neither volunteered more, their uneasy silence broken only by the creaking cart and Solly's voice urging the oxen onward. Ryko held out a ceramic water flask, his face set into harsh lines.

I unplugged the vessel and sipped. The cool water soothed my throat, but my stomach churned at the tiny amount of liquid. I had not felt this ill since the imperial banquet, a lifetime ago.

I handed back the flask, fighting the urge to vomit. “Someone is going to have to tell me what happened.”

“Do you not remember?” Dela eyed me anxiously. “You were healing Ryko—and then everything exploded. Huge rains and winds ripped apart the whole house. The whole cliff.”

“And the village,” Ryko said tightly.

Dela glared at him.

“She has to know,” he said.

Foreboding settled in my chest. “Know what? Tell me, now!”

Ryko straightened, meeting my order. “Thirty-six villagers were killed. Nearly eighty were hurt.” He bowed his head. “To save me.”

My throat was dry again. “Thirty-six?”

So many people dead because I could not control my power. Because I had recklessly called my dragon, although I knew I did not have the skill.

“May the gods forgive me,” I whispered. Yet even if they did, how could I forgive myself?

Ryko made an awkward bow, lurching with the cart's motion. “My lady, do not be uneasy. It is true you healed me at great cost, but the fault is not yours. The gods will know those lives were not taken by you.” He turned to Dela. “It was Ido. He invaded my lady's mind while she was healing me.”

Dela gasped. “Ido caused all that destruction? Was he after your power again?”

I hesitated. How easy it would be to blame all those deaths on Ido and slip out from under the heavy yoke of guilt. But I could not lie to my friends again, or to myself. If there was one thing I had learned from the last few weeks, it was that such lies could be deadly.

“No,” I said. “Ido saved us all. When I tried to heal Ryko, I was nearly torn apart by the ten bereft dragons.”

They both looked at me blankly.

“It is what I call the beasts of the slain Dragoneyes. I think they are trying to unite with their queen, although I do not know why. Lord Ido and his dragon forced them back.”

Ryko's eyes narrowed. “That does not sound like Ido. His every breath is governed by self-interest. If what you say is true, he must have some dark reason for helping you.”

I let the jibe at my truthfulness pass—Ryko had every right to mistrust me. He had been the most devastated by my lies. Although in my defense, the biggest lie—my male masquerade—had been forced upon me by my master. Perhaps one day Ryko would forgive me. For now, I would shoulder his disillusion.

“All I know is that he drove away the ten dragons, and without him we would not have survived.”

“Where is Ido?” Dela asked. “I don't understand. How could he drive away—”

“Begging your pardon.” It was Solly's gruff voice.

The cart bounced—another weight climbing aboard—then the resistance fighter peered in beside Lady Dela.

“Ryko, there's a troop of soldiers coming up behind,” he said with urgency. “Looks like a mountain patrol. They've seen us, too. You haven't got time to get out.” He gave a quick bow to me, then retreated from view.

Ryko frowned. “A troop so high up in the mountains? I hope His Majesty is secure.” He glanced across at me. “We go to retrieve the Pearl Emperor.”

For a moment, relief stole my breath. “He is alive, then?”

“As far as we know,” Dela said. “Ryko says there is a safe place just past the next village. If all has gone well, he should be there.”

She ducked away from the hatch. A worried nod on her return corroborated Solly's report. “They are coming up very fast, Ryko,” she added. “You need to get into the box.” She grasped my shoulder. “You and I are husband and wife. I am taking you to the Moon Lady Waters for healing. Understand?”

“Does the army know we are in this area?” I asked.

“No, it's probably just a regular scout party. We've got through all the checkpoints so far. Just remember you are my sick wife.” She shut the hatch.

Ryko had already lifted the edge of my straw pallet and was pulling up the planks of the floor.

“What are you doing?”

“Hiding.” He lifted another plank and exposed a hidden compartment. “Sethon is looking for a boy lord, a Contraire, and an islander. You two can switch your identities, but I can't get any smaller or change my skin.”

“Are you really going to fit in there?” It was a very small space with a carpet of straw dust and a long cloth bundle wedged to one side.

“Here, hold this,” he said, handing me the bundle.

As soon as I touched the rough cotton, I knew it held Kinra's swords; their familiar jolt of anger seared through me, intensifying the pain in my head. The black pearls around my arm clicked, as if greeting the blades that had also once belonged to my Dragoneye ancestress. I burrowed my hand into the folds of the bundle, exposing the moonstone and jade studded hilts, and the top of a familiar leather pouch; my Dragoneye compass. Beside me, Ryko slid into the cart recess, contorting his big body to fit the shallow space. He held out his hands for the swords. I rewrapped the cloth and returned them, feeling the tug of their power. At least some of the Mirror Dragon treasures were safe. I felt for my waist pouch; the long, thin shapes within reassured me that my ancestors' death plaques were also safe.

“Help me put these planks back,” Ryko said. “And then the pallet over the top.”

“Will you be able to breathe?”

“Plenty of air.” With a tight smile, he patted my arm. “It will be all right.”

I fitted the planks over his tense face, my fingers clumsy with a sudden rush of fear. A twitch of the straw mattress had it back in place. As I eased myself on to it and rearranged my long white tunic into modest folds, it finally dawned on me what I was wearing—the mourning robe of an almost-mother, the tragedy compounded by the orange sash of an unborn son. I cupped either side of my head, feeling the twisted cloth of the headdress that hid my hair and proclaimed my grief as recent. Not many men would want to come close to such ill luck, let alone search its sickbed. A clever ruse. It also gave a good reason for traveling at such a dangerous time; it was said that a woman could wash away such bad fortune if she bathed before her next cycle in the Moon Lady Waters, a mountain lake special to the gods. Still, it made me uneasy to wear such sad clothing. I touched the red folio in my sleeve for luck, and was comforted by the gentle squeeze of the black pearls.

The cloth flap at the back of the cart lifted. I closed my eyes and tried to soften my quick breaths into the deeper rhythm of sleep.

“It's me,” a familiar voice said.

I raised my head to see Vida hoisting herself up onto the slow-moving cart. Her usual tunic and loose trousers had been replaced by a housemaid's gown. For all its modest coverage, the drape of the brown cloth and the artful binding of the sash served to emphasize her generous curves. She lowered the canvas flap and crawled toward me, her skirt snagging on one of the three large traveling baskets strapped against the side panel. She jerked at the garment, cursing under her breath.