Eona (62 page)

We both looked down at the fallen man.

“What do you need me to do?” Dela said. The grief in her face had hardened into deadly focus.

“Help Kygo and Tozay get the black folio.”

With a nod, she picked up the dead man's sword, and whirled to help Kygo subdue the other guard. As I caught my breath, Yuso suddenly broke into a run toward Ido and Sethon. The Dragoneye could not hold out against both of them. I pushed everything I had into a desperate sprint across the platform. Sethon and Ido had caught each other's weapon hands and stood nose to nose, each straining simultaneously to break the other's grip and plunge his own blade home.

“Ido, look out,” I screamed.

Too late. With a harsh battle cry, Yuso charged into the center of the grapple. The collision knocked the two men apart. Sethon reeled backward. Ido crashed onto his hands and knees, his broad back unprotected. I forced one last spurt of speed into my burning muscles, but Yuso was already lunging into his attack.

Straight past Ido.

For a moment, it didn't make sense. Then Yuso hooked his arm around Sethon's neck and drove his blade into the man's bare chest. Yuso wasn't after Ido; he was trying to kill Sethon. With a physician's knife.

Sethon swung Yuso off balance. Both men fell to the ground, Kinra's sword flying out of Sethon's hand and sliding across the boards. Ido rolled away from their thrashing bodies and hauled himself to his feet. Straight into my path. With no time to pull up, I slammed into his chest, the impact driving out all my air. With a grunt, he staggered back a step and caught me. I doubled over and gasped for breath.

“Were you coming to help me or kill me?” he said, halflifting half-dragging me farther away from the vicious fight on the ground.

I struggled out of his grasp. “Where's the pearl?” I managed.

“Sethon still has it.”

I caught a flash of metal as Yuso plunged the tiny knife down again. It must have found its mark, because Sethon roared with pain and punched the captain in the side of the head, loosening his grip.

I finally drew in a full breath. “Can we use the lightning? Like the beach?”

“No,” Ido said. Around us, the shrieking thrum of the dragons was like the song of a thousand cicadas. “I don't know what would happen if we called our beasts in the middle of this circle. And we'd risk destroying the pearl.”

We would have to get the Imperial Pearl the hard way. I tightened my hand around my sword and looked for an opening in the struggle before us.

Sethon slammed his elbow into Yuso's face, then dived for his sword. Yuso slashed wildly, the too-small knife slicing across Sethon's bare back in a crimson arc. He pulled back just as Sethon flipped over and swung Kinra's sword at him, missing his chest by a hair's breadth. Both men drew up into wary crouches. Breathing hard, they stood and faced one another, my position in their sightlines. I had lost my chance.

Sethon spun Kinra's sword in his grip. “You've just killed your son,” he said. “And yourself.”

Yuso's hand flexed around the knife hilt. “I am already dead.” He looked at me. “Lady Eona, this buys my son's safety.”

I felt my whole body tense into expectation.

Yuso ran at Sethon, the short knife raised, his whole body open to attack. Sethon plunged Kinra's sword into the captain's chest. The thrust was so hard that I saw the tip emerge between Yuso's shoulder blades and heard the thump of the hilt spring back against his breastbone. Yuso dropped his knife and grabbed the grip over Sethon's hand, holding the sword and Sethon against his body. With a deep guttural groan, he swung Sethon around until the man's back faced us. Sethon jerked at the hilt, trying to withdraw the blade.

“Do it,” Yuso gasped.

Ido sprang forward and drove his long knife up into Sethon's sacral point, all of his strength behind the strike. Sethon screamed, his body arching, the shock to his
Hua
locking him against the knife. Ido twisted the blade upward.

“Shall we explore that pain?” he said against Sethon's ear.

My innards froze; the words and tone were a perfect imitation of Sethon's torture.

Ido jerked the blade again, forcing a moan from Sethon. “Exhilarating, isn't it.”

He wrenched Sethon's weight away from Yuso. Without the brace of the High Lord's body, Yuso slowly folded to the platform and pitched to one side. The moonstone and jade hilt in his chest hit the wood, sending a shiver of pain through him.

With ruthless efficiency, Ido lowered Sethon to the ground, then rolled him onto his back. He scooped up Yuso's fallen knife, pressed his foot across Sethon's wrist, then drove the small blade through the man's palm, staking him to the wood. I winced as Sethon broke into a long scream, his fingers spasming.

As though Sethon's yell had roused him, Yuso lifted his head toward me, the effort cording the veins in his neck.

“Maylon,” he gasped. “His name is Maylon. ”

I kneeled beside him. “You betrayed us, Yuso. This is all your fault. Do you expect me to forgive you?”

His eyes focused blearily on Ido. The Dragoneye had pinned Sethon's free arm with one knee. Sethon strained upward, but Ido punched him in the face with the hilt of the long knife, the impact slamming his head against the boards.

“Ido thinks you are like him,” Yuso said slowly. He coughed, spraying blood. “But you still have mercy in you, don't you?” His breath sighed out into stillness.

Did I still have mercy? I felt no softness within my heart, and—may the gods help me—I understood the smile of enjoyment on Ido's face. I rose and placed my foot on Yuso's rib cage, wrenching Kinra's sword from his dead body. The burn of her anger whispered its need.
Take the pearl
. I circled both swords up into readiness, the return of their full fury and strength like a homecoming.

I watched as the Dragoneye flipped the knife in his hand and leaned over Sethon. “What shall I carve into your chest?” His voice still mimicked the High Lord's caressing tone. “‘Traitor'? ‘Bastard'? How about ‘Always a second son'?”

Sethon tried to pull away from the knife hovering above his breastbone. With an admonishing click of his tongue, Ido pressed the tip of the blade into Sethon's flesh, dragging it downward in a wash of blood. Sethon screamed again, his head thrashing with pain.

With grim resolution, I walked over to the two men.
Take the pearl
. With every shuddering heave of Sethon's chest, the gem rolled across the bloodied hollow between his collarbones, dangling from its four rough stitches. I could carve it from his throat. Feel him writhe and scream; revenge for Kygo's agony.

“Get back!” I said to Ido.

I raised my sword.

“Wait,” Ido said.

He drove the long knife through Sethon's other palm, forcing a sobbing scream from the man. Ido looked up at me. His smile was vicious and cruel and held the intimacy of a lover. “Enjoy.”

Sethon's pain-filled eyes met mine as he strained to rip his hands free of the knives. For a moment, I held the sword tip over his throat. His lips drew back into the snarl of a cornered animal. He deserved the slowest death possible. He deserved pain and fear. But I could not do it. Yuso was right: I still had mercy. With a roar, I plunged both blades through his mutilated chest instead, the resistance of skin and bone jarring my hands.

Sethon gasped, his body lifting into one last thrash. The pearl rolled and settled into the hollow of his throat as the foul stink of his death release filled the air. I yanked one blade free, the man's dead weight rising with the force and dropping back onto the platform. Swallowing my gorge, I sliced around the stitches and ripped the pearl free. Kinra's swords had finally fulfilled their mission.

I opened my hand. The Imperial Pearl was heavy and hot— too hot to be holding just the last of Sethon's body heat.

Ido wrenched the long knife out of Sethon's palm and wiped the wet blade on his trouser leg. “That was almost as satisfying as I thought it would be.” He looked up at me, one eye squinting in censure. “Although somewhat prematurely ended.” He slid the cleaned knife into the side of his boot. “So where's the folio?”

He followed my gaze across the platform. Kygo and Dela had killed or driven away the remaining guards and were now trying to scoop the black book from the ground, dodging the whip of white pearls. Dela held her ripped shirt like a net, ready to throw it over the writhing rope of gems. Behind her, Tozay sat slumped, his arm at an awkward angle. It was clear he was hurt. The dark shape of High Lord Tuy lay nearby. At least both brothers were dead.

“Kygo has the folio,” I said. “We can—”

Suddenly I could not speak. My senses were lost in a shock wave of pain that blasted every pathway within me. Kinra's sword dropped from my grip. My other hand convulsed around the pearl, the gold claw setting slicing into my palm. Through a gray haze, I saw Ido strain backward, his mouth open in a scream, but I could hear only the howl of loss in my own head. The air pressed down around us, then exploded outward. Two huge dragon bodies—red and blue—boomed onto the plain, the backlash of energy knocking me to my knees.

The massive crimson body of the Mirror Dragon—twice the size of the male dragons—filled the eastern gap within the circle. She threw back her head and called, a high ululating sound that throbbed through her long throat. The gleaming fire of her red and orange scales rippled with every shift of muscle. Huge cartwheel eyes shut with effort as she closed the circle with her body and power. Beneath her chin, the gold pearl swelled and pulsed, the song within it soaring over the thrumming shriek of the eleven other dragon pearls.

“Eona,” I whispered, but I knew she could no longer hear me. She was on the earthly plane, and our link was gone. Everything had been scooped out of me. I was hollowed, powerless, and I could not move with the raw pain of it.

“No!” It was the husk of Ido's voice, cracked and devastated.

With a roar, his blue beast answered the red dragon's call, delicate wings extending as one opal claw lifted and raked the air.

I turned my head. All my bones had dried into stiff desolation. “Ido, I can't call her.”

Ido's body was a knot of agony, his fists pressed into his forehead. “They've closed the circle.” Panting, he slowly raised his head and scanned the dragons. “We don't have much time.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

DARK CLOUDS ROILED
across the sky to form a circle above the twelve beasts on the ground. The still air shifted into a warm breeze that held the scent of sweet spices and salty sweat. And underneath it all was the dank piss-and-blood smell of battlefield death.

I heard the pound of running feet. Kygo's voice penetrated my pain.

“Eona, are you hurt?” He crouched beside me. A long cut across his shoulder bled in thin streaks down his arm and chest. Dela and Tozay stood behind him, both of them bloodied. Dela held the writhing bundle of shirt and folio.

“My dragon is gone, Kygo,” I rasped. “My dragon is gone.” “No, Eona, she is here before us,” he said. “I can see her in the circle.”

I balled my fists against my chest, rocking with pain. “She has gone from me.” My voice rose into a sob. “I have no link with her anymore. No power.”

He curled his arm around me. I leaned into him, and the cold ache within me eased a little against his warmth.

“Tozay!”

Dela's cry raised my head. I saw the general sway on his feet, his weathered face paling into a sickly yellow. Dela dropped the folio bundle and caught him, his solid weight straining her arms and bared torso. There was a nasty gash across Tozay's temple that was still bleeding, and his sword arm hung useless— broken, from the look of it. But I could not heal him. I could not heal anyone ever again.

“He doesn't look good.” Kygo rose to help.

“He took a bad blow to the head,” Dela said as they carefully helped Tozay sit on the platform. His normally sharp eyes were unfocused, his breathing short and hard. “He should be all right. Just dazed for a while.” Dela gently pressed his head between his knees.

Kygo crouched beside me again. “Did you get the pearl, Eona?”

I opened my trembling hand. The opaque surface shimmered and flicked as if tiny fish teemed beneath its surface. He picked it up between thumb and forefinger, the loss on his face echoing the ache in my own spirit. He, too, was giving up something: the sacred symbol of his sovereignty.

“How do you renew the dragons with it?” he asked.

Ido stirred. “Renew the dragons?” Slowly, he sat back on his heels and cocked his head at me. “Am I missing something here, Eona? What about our plan?”

Kygo stiffened at the Dragoneye's tone.

“We never had a plan, Ido,” I said, meeting his stare with my own. “The ancients
stole
the Imperial Pearl from the dragons. It is their egg. We have to give it back. We have to let them renew their power.”

Ido looked sideways at me, the amber eyes hooded. “I know we stole it. I have always known.”

I gaped at him. “What do you mean?” Indignation pulled me up onto my feet. Both Ido and Kygo stood, too, ranged on each side of me in silent antagonism.

“I've read the black folio,” Ido said. “I know what the pearl is and what it does.” He crossed his arms. “The theft changes nothing.”

“It changes everything,” I said. “How could you know all this and still ignore your dragon's need? His hope?”

“No doubt in the same way as many Dragoneyes have before me. No one willingly gives up their own power when it can be the next Dragoneye's problem.”

“Not anymore, Ido. We are the last of our kind. We have to give the pearl back.”

He shook his head. “You don't understand. If they renew, we will lose our power forever.”

“I know.” I felt a moment of bitter satisfaction. He was not the only one who knew the secrets of dragon lore. “But we still have to give the pearl back.”