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.
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.
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.
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.
