Eona: The Last Dragoneye

I dragged my attention from her glowing beauty and focused on the Rat Dragon crouched in the north- northeast corner, his wedged head bowed and pale flanks heaving. The power from the beast was sour and dull, a muddy energy creating pockets of darkness within the streams of bright color that flowed from my dragon.

Lord Ido? I called silently. Are you in there?

The beast slowly lifted his head. The large eyes were not depthless, like the Mirror Dragon’s. They were amber and clouded with pain.

Ido’s eyes.

“By the gods, you are in your beast!” I said, shocked into speaking aloud. “How is that possible?”

Eona. Ido’s hoarse mind-voice was full of disbelief. What are you doing here?

I pushed past my own astonishment and answered him mind to mind. I’m here to heal you.

Heal me?

Yes, but I need your help. The other dragons will come and I can’t hold them back. I need you to block them like you did before. In the fisher village.

Ido’s dragon eyes met mine, their sudden human shrewdness at odds with the ferocious blue-scaled head and fanged muzzle. Why do you take this risk? What do you want?

For all his torment, he had not lost any sharpness of mind.

I want you to train me.

Ahh. The big wedge head slowly cocked to one side. And what do I get from this bargain?

You get your life! What more do you want? Yet part of me admired his attempt to shift even this dire situation to his advantage.

The thin dragon tongue flicked. I will have one other thing.

You have no power to bargain, Lord Ido.

You have no power without me.

The blunt truth jerked my hand off his human chest. Across the cell, the dragon’s head lowered, watching me. Ido knew he had hit home. I could call his bluff, but we were both running out of time.

What do you want? I asked.

The red folio.

Of course. Ido had always wanted the folio. He had stolen it twice already, but had never got past its black pearl guardians. Rapidly, I gauged the risk; the Woman Script and codes would keep any secrets I did not want to share. Even so, I knew Ido could use information like an assassin’s knife. A compromise, then.

You cannot have the folio, but I will tell you what it holds.

Agreed. But I could feel his dissatisfaction.

Are you ready?

The huge opal talons spread, bracing for my power. Be very fast, Eona. I am almost too long gone.

For the first time, I heard a note of fear in his mind-voice. I pressed my hand against his cold, bloodied chest and gathered all of my own waning strength into the call to my dragon. Even as the first vowel of our shared name rang out in the cell, her power rushed through me, filling my seven points of power with raw golden energy that thrummed in a song of joyous union.

My vision split between heaven and earth, the cell heaving with bright Hua around the darkened shape of Ido. Heal him, I thought. Heal him, before they come. No time to slowly sing the body whole. No time to delicately knit flesh and bone. Heal him, now! Through dragon eyes, we saw the gossamer threads that stretched between the man and his beast, the earth world and energy. Too frail, too dark. In the distance, we heard the shriek of sorrow ten times over — the other dragons were on their way, keening the loss of their Dragoneyes. And under their shrill song came another sound: a bell, ringing over and over again.

The pulsing patterns of Hua that we knew as Ryko ran to the doorway. “The alarm! They must have discovered us. Eona, hurry!”

We felt our power coil, tight and strong, drawing energy from every point — the earth, the air, the waters, the heartbeats of a thousand living things — into one huge, pulsing, healing howl. We were Hua, and we slammed our raw song into Ido’s earthly form.

He screamed as our power wrenched him back into his tortured body, then exploded through every inner pathway. Hua roared through him, a fireball that fused torn flesh together, welded bone, and purified his leaden life force back into bright silver streams.

Ido fell on to his hands and knees, gasping. He looked up at us, and for a moment the planes of his energy face shifted into solid flesh, his shoulders and back once more dense muscle and smooth skin. Then his features shivered and shaped back into the rush of healing Hua. The silver coursed through his seven points of power, the orbs once more spinning in the right direction. My eyes found the heart point I had healed before; although it was now flowing with strong Hua, it was once again smaller and duller than the others. Did he still have the compassion I had forced upon him? And there was another difference that drew my gaze up to his crown point, the seat of the spirit. Deep within its whirling purple sphere was a small gap, black and malignant. I had never seen such darkness before in a point of power.

Beyond him, the vibrant form of the Rat Dragon stretched into sinuous strength. The beast’s sky blue body expanded and rippled, pulsing with the exchange of energy. He swung his head up, delicate nostrils flaring, and then we heard it, too: shrieking grief, its pressure building around us. Our heavy muscles bunched, ready for battle.

“Get out!” I yelled at Ryko.

The ten dragons burst into the cramped space, their brutal power gouging huge chunks of stone from the walls that spun and smashed across the floor. Through dragon eyes, we saw Ryko wrench Dela and Vida into the corridor as choking dust billowed through the cell. My earthly body doubled over, coughing, as the grieving beasts hurled themselves at us.

The Rat Dragon arrowed across the path of the western beasts, slashing with opal claws that drew gushes of bright Hua from the Dog and Pig Dragons. They pulled away, screaming. Our big red body rammed the green Tiger Dragon and our ruby claws raked across the rose pink hide of the Rabbit Dragon. We twisted, muscles straining to duck beyond the amethyst claws of the Ox, the wall behind the purple beast exploding into rubble. The blue dragon leaped in front of us, sweeping in a snarling circle, claws connecting, driving back the other ducking, diving, howling beasts.

Eona, like we did before. Ido’s mind-voice was strong, the orange taste of his bright power laced with sweet vanilla. Together!

His earthly hand grabbed mine. His touch pulled me from my dragon-sight and I saw him on his knees, head thrown back, amber eyes alight with battle. Then I was back with the Mirror Dragon, our huge red body rolling under the crushing need of the circling beasts. This time there was no hesitation: we opened our pathways, feeling the rush of orange energy. It blazed through us, drawing our golden power into a huge wave of Hua bound with spinning stone and rock, barely held in check by Ido’s iron control.

His hand tightened around mine. With a roar, he let our power loose, a booming explosion that ripped through the roof and outer walls of the cell and slammed the ten dragons backward. For a moment, the glut of power turned the celestial plane vibrant red — the beasts were fighting the force — then the shimmering circle of dragon bodies screamed as one and disappeared.

The energy world buckled and snapped away from my sight. I was back in my own body, the glorious power of my dragon like a distant hum in my head and a hollow absence in my spirit.

Ido yanked me down to the ground beside him, his arm across my body. An aftershock slammed across us, pressing me against the stone and punching through the walls of the other cells, bringing a hard stinging rain of dust and dirt.

Slowly, I lifted my head. Half of the outside wall was missing, showing scattered bodies among the rubble: soldiers, called by the alarm and caught in the blast. A few shadowy figures were gathering at a wary distance. More would come.