Eona: The Last Dragoneye

turnaround. He was not one to back down so easily. But what could I do? Kinra’s memory had also told me the String of Pearls could not be stopped once the dragons had released their pearls into its power circle — but she had not told me that I had to invoke the Righi to release the dragons from the folio.

I clasped Ido’s arm. He flinched under the dig of my grip. “Is that the truth? Is the Righi the only way for their renewal?”

“Do you think I have a death wish because I cannot have you?” he sneered.

I snatched my hand away.

“You are not the woman I thought you were,” he said. “You do not have the steel to be a true queen.”

“Well, you are exactly the man I thought you were,” I snapped.

I hoped he could not see the bitter truth in my heart; some part of me had believed him when he’d said I had changed him. How could I have been so gullible? He was still the same ruthless, selfish Ido. I was the one who had changed, pulled into his world of power and possibility.

Kygo shoved Ido’s shoulder. “Answer her! Is the Righi the only way to do this?”

Ido stepped back, his body tightening into defense. “Yes.”

He was telling the truth, and it dropped a hundredweight of dread through me. I had barely controlled the Righi against Dillon — now it had the force of renewal in it and the power of all the dragons to draw upon. May the gods protect us. And if they could not, at least I could protect Kygo.

I dragged at his arm. “You have to get off the platform.” With a glance, I gathered Dela into my plea. “You too, Dela. Help Tozay. Get off the platform. You saw what happened to Dillon.”

“I am not going anywhere,” Kygo said. He bent and picked up the sword I had dropped. Kinra’s sword.

“Neither am I, Eona,” Dela said.

“No, both of you must go. I don’t know if I can protect you.”

Kygo shook his head. “I will not leave you alone with Lord Ido.”

The Dragoneye circled on the spot, watching the dragons, his hands raking his hair.

Kygo looked at Dela. “Take Tozay down to the lower steps. I want you both safe. That is my command.”

Dela hesitated.

“Go!”

Dela bowed. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

She passed me the bundle. The rope of pearls writhed beneath the cloth, jabbing my hands. “Eona, please be careful,” she said. “I have already lost …” She tipped her head back, her throat jumping with the strain of grief. “Just be careful.”

Together, she and Kygo hauled Tozay to his feet. He was still dazed, but he could walk. Dela took his weight and helped him limp to the edge of the platform. As she supported him down the first step, she looked back and pressed her fist against her chest. The warrior salute. I did not feel like a warrior. I felt terrified. I remembered Ryko in the palace alley telling me I had a warrior’s courage. He’d had such faith in me then. And he had died for that faith.

I lifted my fist to my chest. For Ryko, and for Dela. With a nod, she turned and led Tozay down the steps.

“What do I have to do?” I asked Ido.

“Go up on the dais,” he said, nodding at the small raised stage. “It is the highest point, and once the Righi has ignited the Imperial Pearl, the Mirror Dragon will come for it.”

I looked at the red dragon. Her huge eyes watched me. Kinra’s plea whispered in my mind: Make it right. I followed Ido across the platform to the dais, holding the squirming bundle away from my body. Kygo walked beside me.

“You’ve got the Imperial Pearl?’ I asked.

He opened his palm. The surface of the gem swarmed with silvery leaps and flicks. “It’s hot,” he said.

I laid my fingers across the soft pale curve. It was now almost hot enough to burn.

We stood together for a moment, the Imperial Pearl between our hands. “You are a queen to me,” Kygo said softly. He pressed his lips against my forehead.

“Very touching,” Ido drawled. “Eona, get on the dais.”

I gave him a sour look and stepped up on to the small stage. Kygo stationed himself nearby, sword angled at Ido.

Beyond the circle of swaying dragons, the ragged remains of the two armies watched from a wary distance. The dark clouds above us had swamped the bright day, casting an early gloom over the plain. The air still swirled with the spicy scent of the dragons surrounding us, the heat as much from their earthly presence as from the hot wind that whipped my hair back.

I took a deep breath and unwrapped the black folio, dropping the torn remnants of the shirt. The white pearls snapped straight up, as if they were testing the air, then planed across my hand and along my arm, dragging the folio behind them. Two quick, rattling coils and the book was bound to my arm. The folio’s acid words rose into my mind, burning my pathways, whispering their ancient power. Ido stood hunched before the dais, his arms wrapped around his body. No doubt he remembered the pain of the Righi too.

“It is in my head,” I said. My mouth tasted like it was full of blood and ash.

“Chant it,” Ido said.

The words were waiting. Their bitter keen held the bound Hua of all twelve dragons, and the last cold echoes of Kinra. The chant quickened on my tongue and reached out to the beasts in the circle. It pulled the thrumming energy from their pearls and wove it into the blistering song that hissed from me with the fire of life and death.

The dragons answered the chant with a shrieking chorus of their own. Through the terrible sound, the Rat Dragon bel-lowed urgently, the blue iridescent pearl beneath his chin pulsing with azure-tipped flame. His call silenced the other beasts. They all turned to watch as he lowered his huge wedge head and gently placed his barrel-sized gem on the ground between his opal claws. The separation of dragon and pearl shuddered through the folio and my chant; an ache of loss and hope that brought a sting of tears to my eyes. With a soft cry, the Rat Dragon nudged the sphere with his flared muzzle, rolling the source of his power and wisdom a length from his opal claws.

I glanced across at Ido. He crouched in defeat as he watched his dragon give up the pearl that held their twelve-year bond.

Next to the Rat Dragon, the purple Ox Dragon threw back his horned head and howled his own song of pain and hope. The soft lavender scales under his chin and around his pearl shimmered with violet flames. He lowered his head and gently dropped the pearl onto the ground, tapping it forward with a careful amethyst claw until it lightly touched the Rat Dragon’s blue pearl. As soon as it rocked into place, the green Tiger Dragon lifted his head and sang his own loss. One by one, the male dragons called to their bound spirits in the folio and placed their pearls on the ground.

I felt every longing cry resonate through the folio until eleven enormous dragon pearls — alive with flicks of colored flame — lay side by side in a circle on the trampled earth around the platform.

Only one pearl was missing.

The final call came from the Mirror Dragon. She lifted her majestic head, the glossy crimson scales of throat and chest reflecting the blaze of gold flame from her pearl. Her throbbing call rose up like a heartbeat through my chant. She extended her huge scaled muzzle over the platform, the horselike nostrils flaring, the soft wind of her breath scented with her cinnamon power. Under the curve of heavy horns, her dark, ancient gaze held me inside the endless cycle of life and death — and the dragons’ long wait for release.

Make it right.

“Give Eona the Imperial Pearl,” Ido ordered Kygo. “Now!”

Kygo reached up, and the gem’s smooth heat rolled into my palm. The chant in my head and on my tongue stoked the fire within the heart of their egg. Its silver energy leaped into incandescence.

“Eona, you have to give the pearl to the Mirror Dragon,” Ido said.