Eona: The Last Dragoneye

“Eona!” Ryko’s call dragged my eyes from Kygo’s laboring chest. “Use me. Like you did outside the palace.”

His guard pushed him down and pressed a knee on his back. “Shut up.”

My mind groped for his meaning.

His Hua! He meant his life-force funneled through our own link. He was not caught in the folio’s dark energy or dragon power. The possibility surged through my despair, bright and sharp. Yet at the palace, I had nearly killed him.

Another stitch spiked its pain through the compulsion.

“Ryko, no,” Dela pleaded.

“I will not see you die, Dela,” he said. “Eona, use it!”

“It will kill you,” I said.

“We are all dead if you don’t.” His voice checked as the guard shoved his knee harder into the islander back, forcing his chest to the platform. Doggedly, he raised his head again. “My choice, Eona!”

His choice, but I was the one who would take his life. I could not do it.

“Eona, honor me.”

I looked into the fierce warrior pride in his face. Honor and duty: the heart of Ryko. He was giving us his heart. I nodded. He smiled with grim satisfaction. Bracing himself, he turned his head to Dela. Her soft moan broke into a sob.

I took a deep breath, poised for Sethon’s pain. It came — shuddering through the blood force, a tiny lessening of the folio’s grip. With a prayer to any god who listened, I reached for Ryko’s Hua.

His pulsing life-force roared through me with a torrent of strength that wrenched Sethon’s grip wide open. With a shriek through my blood, the rope of pearls spun off my wrists, dropping the black folio into my lap. I felt my link with Ryko unravel and snap, leaving a deep tear within me that ached with loss.

I heard Ido’s roar of exultation and felt the pounding return of my own power. We were free. But all I could see was Ryko’s dead body slumping to the ground.

As Dela screamed, I felt Ido unite with his dragon. My skin stung with the burn of a fast rising wind, the taste of Ido’s power within it.

Sethon sat up. “Stop them!” He knocked the physician aside, his hand holding the half-stitched pearl to his throat. “Hunters, stop Lady Eona! Stop Ido!”

The hunter behind me grabbed my hair and yanked my head back. I glimpsed yellowed teeth clenched in effort, then his hand reached for the pulse under my jaw. Frantically, I groped for the black folio and threw it at his face. The rope of white pearls snapped out straight then curled back, whipping him across the eyes. Screaming, he let go of me, blinded by blood. The book arced and dropped, sliding across the boards.

I launched myself at Kygo, dread propelling me into a skidding, scrambling crawl. Was I too late?

Within the drum of my heartbeat another pressure was building. Familiar and chaotic — the ten bereft dragons. They were coming, called by the released pearl. Another terror shredded my breath: all twelve dragons would soon be together, and they would make the String of Pearls. If we did not direct their power into renewal, it would rip the land apart.

The searing rise of Ido’s power suddenly stopped. I looked over my shoulder, praying he had not fallen to a hunter. The Dragoneye was grappling with his guard, punching the man savagely in the ribs. The hunter broke away and drew a long knife from an ankle sheath. He lunged, but Ido caught his forearm and twisted it brutally against the elbow joint. The knife dropped.

A wail split the air, the desolation within it chilling me. Dela’s heart cry. Two guards held her back from Ryko’s body. Her face was a fearsome mask — all howling mouth and wild eyes. She punched and clawed, lurching toward Ryko with the berserk rage of grief. Taking advantage of the diversion, Tozay rammed into his guard’s legs. The man dropped to his knees, his sword swinging upward. With ruthless precision, Tozay grabbed the sword hilt and slammed the edge of the grip into the man’s chin, knocking him senseless.

“Lady Eona, do you need help?” he yelled, yanking the weapon from the man’s slack grasp.

“No. Help Dela.”

Raising the sword, he charged the two guards struggling to contain the Contraire.

I spread both hands on Kygo’s chest, feeling for his heartbeat through the sticky wash of blood. His eyes were shut and an ominous pallor bleached his skin. Be alive, I prayed. Be alive. A slow thud flipped under my fingertips: a heartbeat.

“Brother, get the black book,” Sethon yelled.

High Lord Tuy rose from his seat beside the dais. I cursed; I should have picked up the book. Without it, the dragons could not be released.

“Tozay!” I yelled. He broke away from his opponent and swung around. “Get the folio!”

He nodded, ducking a wild punch.

The flash of a blade drew my eyes back to Sethon. He had pulled Kinra’s other sword from the sheath slung on the back of the throne. Pausing for a moment to find his target, he leaped off the dais, straight for Ido. The pearl flapped obscenely at his throat, only half attached.

“Ido!” I screamed. The Dragoneye rolled away from the limp hunter and scrabbled up onto his feet, the bloodied long-knife in his hand. I jabbed my finger at the oncoming danger. “Sethon!”

He backed up, tensing to meet Sethon’s running attack.

It was all I could do; I had to heal Kygo. His heart was barely beating.

With a desperate breath, I plunged into the celestial plane. The platform around me convulsed into iridescent energy, the bright colors stretching and breaking in frantic, jagged patterns. Under the bright flow of Hua in my hands, Kygo’s meridians were dark and stagnant, only a flicker of silver in each point of power. The Mirror Dragon shrieked, her massive crimson body above the platform. The golden pearl at her throat thrummed with an ancient song of renewal, its luminous surface pulsing with runs of gold flame. Higher in the sky, the blue dragon circled, his own pearl alive with blue fire. The approach of the other ten dragons pressed around us like a terrible weight, thickening the air.

I called the Mirror Dragon, and opened myself to her power, my heart’s plea joining her thrumming song. Heal him, please heal him. She shrieked again, the sound blending into the rushing power that roared through my pathways. Cinnamon flooded my mouth. Was this the last time I would taste the glorious spice of our union? The bittersweet thought rose through me and locked in my throat like a cry. She lowered her massive head, the great dragon eyes only lengths from mine. Their ancient gaze pulled me into the neverending cycle of life and death, sun and moon, chaos and balance. So old. Time to renew. Your pearl will be returned, I silently promised, and felt her soaring joy. Yet the loss to come dug darkness into my spirit.

We sang together, knitting the earth’s Hua into Kygo’s slashed flesh, fanning the tiny flicker of his life-force into bright flowing energy and a strong, beating heart. Our beautiful harmony wove sweet healing into every wound and eased my own aching spirit with a gentle embrace of golden power. Under my hands, Kygo’s chest jerked, the sudden fill of air erupting into a hacking, gasping cough.

A booming shock wave of hot, spicy air ripped me out of the energy world. Ten huge dragons burst onto the plain around the platform, a rainbow circle of gleaming hides, heavy muscle, and thick manes. Real flesh-and-blood bodies as big as palace temples. I gaped at the vivid orange Horse Dragon straight ahead of me, the luminous apricot pearl beneath his chin glowing and humming. Beside him, the Goat Dragon stretched his long neck, the silver scales rippling with reflections like sinuous water, his pearl singing, too. The warmth of his lemon breath scented the air. They were all on the earthly plane, visible to everyone. It was not meant to be possible, yet every man on the platform was frozen into stunned awe. Even Ido and Sethon had broken apart from their savage struggle. The only movement was Dela, rocking Ryko’s body against her chest.

I spun around, trying to take in the huge circle of beasts: the green Tiger Dragon, the dawn pink Rabbit Dragon, the shimmering purple Ox Dragon. Then a gap: the domain of the Rat Dragon. And, in the east, another gap for the Mirror Dragon. They had not yet joined the circle. We still had time.

Shrill, throbbing screams from the ground broke the awed silence. I looked down as the Ox Dragon shifted the coil of his massive tail, exposing scores and scores of mangled bodies beneath it, the muscular movement catching more shrieking men in its sweep. My stomach heaved at the mess. The ten beasts had materialized on top of Sethon’s army. Half of them were crushed under dragon flesh. The other half were running from the beasts.