Eona: The Last Dragoneye

Far below me, the energy in the tent broke and swirled as someone burst through the doorway and knelt, every pathway in the newcomer’s body rushing with frantic Hua.

Sethon turned. “What is it?”

“The resistance is massing at the top of the ridge, Your Majesty.”

Sethon’s dark energy surged. “Excellent. Prepare for engagement.”

He circled the chair, pacing, then picked up a knife and sliced into the palm of his hand. Hua gathered at the pulsing leak. He closed his fist around the pearls. “Return to your body, now.”

The blood command reached toward me, calling me back to my flesh.

Not yet!

Kinra’s voice was desperate, dissolving the streaming colors around me into—

— the same bedchamber. Alone. Six months of preparations nearly complete.

Tonight, Emperor Dao will call for my body, and I will steal the pearl. He thinks he has finally seduced the Dragoneye Queen, the only woman in his empire who can reject him with impunity. He thinks he has won me away from Somo. I slot the calligraphy brush into its porcelain rest and press the back of my hand to my wet eyes, stemming the useless tears. Whether I succeed or not, tonight everything changes.

At least Pia is safe — hidden far away with a good family. Leaning down, I blow on the wet ink of the last entry in the red journal. Woman script and code; it should be safe. The journal is my letter to Pia, the only way she will ever know why she lost her mother and father and her Dragoneye heritage. And if we fail, it will show her the way to make it right.

I close the journal and watch the black pearls settle around the smooth red leather; an idea I have borrowed from the first Dragoneyes. They knew how to guard their secrets.

If all goes according to plan, I will take the pearl from Dao on the hour of the Ox and meet Somo outside the palace, where he will be waiting with the black folio. By the time I get to my beloved, the twelve breaths of the Imperial Pearl will be well past and the dragons will be forming the String of Pearls. It will be too late for anyone to stop their release.

The black folio is open on the table, ready for the final task. I touch the hilts of the jade and moonstone swords, feeling my rage woven into their steel. I have not told Somo this part of the plan, and the small deception settles in my heart like stone. But he would not have let me put my spirit at such risk. I pick up one of the swords and draw the tip of the blade across my palm in a hot sting of pain. Bright red wells in its wake. With a deep breath, I press my hand against the open pages and gather my Hua through the flow of my blood. The black folio grabs at me, weaving my energy into the heat of the dark force that already holds the dragons. Bound together now. If I succeed, my Hua will be released with the dragons. If I fail, I will be locked alongside the dragons waiting for another chance. Waiting for Pia or another of my bloodline to make it right—

“Return!”

Sethon’s voice ripped me from my dragon and slammed me back into my brutalized body. I screamed, every part of me alight with pain. His hand snaked around my throat, fingertips digging into the round of my windpipe.

“If you try that again, I will not be so generous with the healing power,” he said, choking off my sound.

My pulse pounded in my ears, its frantic rhythm holding Kinra’s words.

Make it right.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

I SQUINTED ACROSS the battlefield, trying to recognize Kygo and Ido among the tiny figures that stood along the edge of the escarpment. Could they see me on this command tower, kneeling at Sethon’s feet? They could hardly miss me: we were in the center of the assembled army, raised twelve tiered steps above it on a wooden platform. To add to that, we sat upon a small throne dais marked out by a tall canopy. The bait in plain sight.

Sethon reached down and stroked my hair, his touch making my skin crawl.

Perhaps Ido was not standing on the ridge at all. He no longer had the threat of my compulsion hanging over him, so why would he stay?

I glanced up at the purple silk canopy that billowed over us, its long fringe of red blessing banners snapping like whips.

There was some strange quality in the hot gusts that swept the flat grassland, and in the bank of silver clouds closing in around us. I wet my cracked lips, tasting the air: it held the harsh edge of dry lightning, the same acrid energy I had smelled and tasted on the beach with Ido. Every Dragoneye sense within me said he was making this searing wind. He had stayed, and he was going to fight alongside Kygo. The certainty straightened my spine.

“You have something else to say?” Sethon asked High Lord Tuy, who was bent on one knee before him at the base of the small dais. He was another of Sethon’s half-brothers, closer in age, with wary, narrow eyes and deep lines cut from nose to mouth; a permanent sneer etched into his face.

“I have a concern, Your Majesty,” he said. “This plan to take the ridge. All conventional wisdom says that attacking uphill is a fool’s strategy.”

Sethon’s hand traced the moonstone and jade circles on the hilt of one of Kinra’s swords, slung in the back sheath over the arm of his chair. “A fool’s strategy?” he echoed softly.

“Xsu-Ree cautions against it specifically, brother,” Tuy said, his fist clenching with the effort to moderate his tone. “Why go against his wisdom? It has always stood us in good stead.”

My knees ached from kneeling on the hard wood, but I did not dare shift in case the movement brought Sethon’s focus back to me. Except for my hands — still bound by the pearls, and useless — he had released my body from his physical control. I could not bear to lose that freedom again. As it was, I still felt his choking grip on my power like a tight rope around a dog’s neck. Hot shame swept over me; this was what I had done to Ido, and what we were doing to the dragons.

“We should march around the escarpment,” Tuy added. “Attack on equal ground with all our force. It will only take a week or so, and we will slaughter them with minimal loss.”

Sethon’s fingers curled into my hair and yanked my head back. I fixed my eyes on the canopy, trying not to show the pain that clawed across my scalp. “Look at what I have, brother,” he said, shaking my head. “Dragon power. I don’t need to attack on equal ground.”

Tuy’s eyes flitted across my face. “Everyone sees what you have, Your Majesty,” he said tightly. “The Mirror Dragoneye is indeed a prize. But her presence is making the men uneasy. They fear you will bring bad luck upon the campaign by flouting the Covenant.”

Sethon released my hair and gestured to the huge battalions below us, each division in its own painted armor — red, green, purple, yellow, blue — immense ranks of color that seemed to stretch forever toward the escarpment.

“The men will be glad enough of her dragon power when Lord Ido attacks,” he said. “You will take the ridge while I take care of Ido and his dragon. Even if we lose five men to their one, we will soon overrun them.” He crooked his finger at Yuso. “Remind my brother how many men we face.”

Yuso stepped forward. “No more than four and half thousand, High Lord Tuy.”

I bit down on my rage. Couldn’t Yuso see that Sethon would never release his son? He had betrayed us for nothing, and now the resistance faced dragon power. My power.

“I am aware of the numbers, Your Majesty,” Tuy said. “But—”

“No. I want this finished,” Sethon said. “I waited long enough for the throne, and I have waited long enough for the pearl.” He indicated a man kneeling at the far edge of the platform; a physician, by the maroon cap he wore and the red lacquered box beside him. “I want Kygo and Ido contained and captured, and I want the pearl sewn into my throat. Today. Do you understand?”

It was Kygo’s death warrant. As soon as the pearl left his throat, he had only twelve breaths left to live. Less than a minute.

Tuy bowed. “Yes, Your Majesty.”