Eona: The Last Dragoneye

“I don’t know,” I said bleakly. “But it sounds final.”

I closed the red folio, as if hiding the words would stop the crushing burden of their meaning. “I dread what you will find next, but we need to know more.” I held out the journal. With a short nod, Dela took it back.

“At least we know that Gan Hua must be mastered.” Dela stood up and limped toward the door. “Lord Ido is the only one who can teach you how to control your power. Can he teach you how to master Gan Hua, too?”

“Oh, yes,” I said dryly. “Ido is a master of Gan Hua.”

“Then we must rescue him.”

“But His Majesty is fixed on finding the black folio.”

Dela beckoned me to the door. “His Majesty cannot ignore the red folio, Eona. This is the voice of a Mirror Dragoneye. And she has given us due warning.”

“Who is this Dragoneye ancestress?” demanded Kygo.

I had been expecting the question, but it still tightened my innards. The emperor paced across the strategy chamber and turned for my answer, his eyes ringed with blue fatigue. Although he had dismissed the section leaders from the cavern at my request, I did not take that as a sign of my return to favor. On the contrary. He had not allowed either Dela or me to rise from our knees, and there was a brittleness about him that I recognized: his body and mind had been pushed too far for too long. I glanced at Dela beside me. From the wary hunch of her shoulders, I could tell that she recognized it too; she would have felt the wrath of an overstrained master in her time. Still, I had no way of preparing her for what I was about to say — and hopefully she would have the sense to stay silent.

“She was the last Mirror Dragoneye before the Mirror Dragon fled,” I said. “Her name was Charra.”

Dela stiffened, her hand tightening on the red folio.

I held my breath, but she said nothing. No doubt she would vent her disapproval later, but even she would have to admit I could not tell him the truth. Kygo knew Kinra as a traitor. He would not accept any words that she had written, nor act upon them. And with such an ancestor he would trust me even less.

“Do we know why the dragon fled?”

“No, Your Majesty. Lady Dela has not yet found that information in the folio.”

He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. “But now we know what the return of the Mirror Dragon really means. My father wanted us to believe that you and the dragon are the symbols of hope and a blessing on my reign. But you are not.” His eyes opened. The exhaustion in them sharpened into certainty. “You are the bringers of doom.”

“That is not true,” I gasped. “You cannot say that!”

“Ten Dragoneyes dead, my empire poised for a war, the land unprotected and ripping itself apart.” His full mouth thinned into accusation. “And it all started when you brought back the Mirror Dragon.”

I glared at him. “I did not bring her back. She just … appeared.”

“But you were in the arena, where a girl should not have been. You gave her the chance to come back.”

I dug my fingernails into my thighs, wanting to claw at his face and force him to say he was wrong. He had to be wrong. Otherwise, it meant I had somehow caused Ido’s slaughter of the Dragoneyes — and Sethon’s coup, and the war that was to come. He could not lay all of that on my shoulders.

“It is not all doom, Your Majesty,” Dela said into the fraught silence. Her skin had paled under the sunburn, either from the pain of kneeling on her injured leg or the risk of speaking. She held up the folio, the black pearls wrapped tightly around it. “The second verse gives hope. Lady Eona can restore the dragons’ power.”

“Hope?” He gave a bitter laugh. “I do not find much hope in the words ‘Hua of All Men.’” He strode across the room again.

For all his exhaustion, he still moved with authority. “Go, Lady Dela.”

She looked at me and hesitated — a dangerous show of loyalty.

“Now!” Kygo shouted.

With an agonized apology in her eyes, Dela struggled to her feet, bowed, then backed out of the chamber.

“Stand up, Eona,” Kygo said.

I rose, my legs trembling with rage. He began to pace again, his quick steps taking him behind me, out of my sight line. Every other sense strained to keep hold of his position as he circled. “Why should I believe this portent, Eona?” He was at my left. “I cannot read ancient Woman Script. The Contraire could be lying for you.”

“Lady Dela is loyal to you. As I am.” I should have stopped, but my resentment surged into more words. “As I have always been.”

He closed the distance between us until he was less than a hand-span in front of me. Too close. I did not raise my eyes, but I could smell the hot male tang of his anger — and I could sense something beyond words filling the space between us.

“Loyal? You are loyal only to your own goals,” he said. “From the very beginning you manipulated everyone to get into the arena, and you have not stopped since.”

I looked up at the unfair judgment. “Everything I have done has been in your service,” I said hotly. “You are jumping at shadows that do not exist. You blame me because you are afraid of things you do not understand.”

Blood rushed to his face. “You think me afraid?”

He might not want me as his Naiso any more, but he was still going to get the truth. “Yes,” I hissed. “You are afraid because you are out of your depth.”

He raised his fist. I tensed, waiting for the blow, but he turned away. Three strides and he was at the laden table. He grabbed its edge and flipped it over in a crack of wood and slither of parchment. “Do you know what all that is?” he demanded. “That is our numbers. We have one trained man to every twenty of my uncle’s. One horse to ten. Most of our weapons are not swords, not even Ji, but farm tools!”

“Then maybe the bringer of doom is you.” I saw the barb hit home. A small uneasiness pricked at my anger, but I ignored it. “Doesn’t feel good, does it, Kygo? To be a bringer of doom.”

He came toward me. “I am emperor,” he yelled. “You are just a woman. And you know nothing.”

“Yet you made me your Naiso,” I shouted, his scorn pushing me into reckless challenge. “You said you wanted the truth? Well, here it is. You tell yourself stories about how I lie and self-serve, but everything I have done has been in your interest.” I counted off on my fingers. “I told you the truth about my sex; I pulled you out of your killing rage; I woke you from the shadow world. I did not heal you and compromise your will. Yet you still distrust me.” A roar of intuition burst through my fury. “Because you are afraid of me!”

The words felt like a leap into an abyss.

He stopped in front of me, his eyes alight with his own fury. We stared at one another, locked in a moment that held either a new beginning or an end.

“I am not afraid of you,” he finally said. “I am afraid of what your power means.” The tension dropped from his body, making him sway.

I nodded, suddenly exhausted myself. “I am, too. I know so little, and yet now I must save the dragons.”

He touched the pearl at his throat. “Yes.”

“It is too much.” I flung my hand out, as if I could push it all away.

Kygo caught my wrist. “Yet it is your burden, as mine is the empire.”

At his touch, all my anger shifted. I gasped as his hand tightened, the same shift searing the fatigue from his eyes. He pulled me closer.

“We do not have a choice, Eona,” he said.

Were his words of our duty, or the energy that leaped between us? I turned my head, seeking refuge from the intensity in his eyes, but only found the sensuous curve of the Imperial Pearl and the shift of light across it. The memory of our lips and bodies touching shivered through me.

“I know.” I lifted my other hand toward the glowing gem. Was it Kinra pulling me toward the pearl, or was it my own desire?

“Do you know what happens — what it does to me, when you touch it?” He was breathing through his mouth, hard and quick. “It is like a thousand lightning strikes through my body, all tipped with pleasure.”