Eona: The Last Dragoneye

“That is nonsense fed to you by frightened men.” He dismissed the training with a flick of his hand. “We can distill Hua into either Gan or Lin— chaos or order — and neither force is intrinsically dangerous, or good or bad. They just are. The Dragoneye Council was full of fools.” He shook his head. “They never understood the extraordinary power that comes out of chaos. But you understand. You use Gan Hua in a way that I never thought possible. I only wish I had your ability.”

“But you used Gan Hua to go into your dragon.”

He rubbed his hand across his mouth. “A clumsy attempt compared to yours, and only as a last resort.”

“But how did you do it? How did you control it?”

He hesitated. “Pain is energy. I transferred it to my dragon and used Gan Hua to hold myself in the beast, away from what was happening to my physical body.”

For all the heat of the new day, a chill swept over my damp skin. “Is that why your dragon was in such agony?”

“I said it was a last resort.” His voice hardened. “And, as you saw”—he touched his crown—“the damage was not only to the dragon. I stayed too long and drew on too much of my dragon’s power without the requisite return.”

“I would never inflict such pain on my dragon,” I said.

“And yet you inflict pain on me and your friend Ryko,” he said. “It is easy to say ‘never,’ Eona. But you have already stepped over a line, and you did not even see it in your rush to get what you wanted.”

I glared at him. “You have no idea what I want.”

“Tell me, then.”

“I want to master Gan Hua. As quickly as possible.”

“For all your fear, you still want more power?” He smiled. “You are a true queen.”

“No, you don’t understand,” I said, twisting my hands together. “I need to master Gan Hua because the dragons are not immortal. At least, their power is not without end.”

He stilled. “What makes you say that?”

“There is a portent in the red folio. It says that when the Mirror Dragon rises, it is a sign of the end of the dragons.”

“What?” He grabbed my arm. “Show it to me. Now!”

“I know every word of it.” I tapped my head; it was inscribed upon my mind in fire. Slowly, I recited it:

“The She of the dragon will return and ascend

When the cycle of twelve draws to an end.

The She of the Dragoneye will restore and defend

When the dark force is mastered with the Hua of All Men.”

“Say that last line again,” Ido demanded.

I repeated it.

“Lady Dela and I think ‘the dark force’ means Gan Hua,” I added.

“Yes, that is what our ancestors called it.” His eyes scanned the clear space around us, his whole body tense.

“But we don’t know what ‘the Hua of All Men’ means.”

“I know what it means,” he said.

“What?”

He leaned closer until his lips were against my ear. “‘The Hua of All Men’ is the old name for the Imperial Pearl.”

I swayed as his words wrenched everything into a terrifying pattern of inevitability: the pearl — the emperor’s symbol of sovereignty — was the way to save the dragons.

I shook my head. “No. That cannot be.”

Ido’s grip tightened into support. “I have seen the phrase in ancient scrolls.”

Was this why Kinra had tried to steal the pearl from Emperor Dao — to save the dragons? It took another moment for the horror to build to its full meaning. If that was the reason for Kinra’s so-called treachery — the reason she risked everything to attack a king — then that meant the pearl had to come out of the emperor’s throat to save the dragons. It had to come out of Kygo’s throat. And that would kill him.

I looked up at Ido. “You are lying!”

“It is the truth, Eona.” His grim face was only a handspan from mine. “In the ancient records that have survived, one dragoneye could look after a province by himself. Now it takes all the dragoneyes to work the same level of energies. Dragon power is fading. And according to your portent, the Imperial Pearl is the way to save it.”

No. It could not be true.

Yet I had felt Kinra’s drive for the pearl. I had almost ripped it from Kygo’s throat twice under her thrall. Five hundred years ago, my ancestor and Lord Somo had tried to steal the pearl from Emperor Dao. Was I somehow locked into the same journey with Ido and Kygo?

No coincidence, Dela had said.

I tore my arm out of Ido’s grip. “I don’t believe you,” I whispered. “It is another of your sick games.”

Ido gave a harsh laugh. “This is no game, Eona. I am not lying. That is what the pearl was called.”

“Prove it.”

“All of the proof is locked in my library. But I swear; I have read it in some of the oldest scrolls.”

I pressed my hand over my mouth — there was a scream building within me that was five hundred years old. I had to find some way to prove Ido wrong.

He sucked in a sharp breath. “Does the emperor know about the portent?”

“Yes.”

“Then, if you value your life, do not tell him about this,” he whispered.

I turned away from the fear in his voice. There was too much truth in it. “You said there is proof in the ancient scrolls.”

“Yes.”

“Is it in the black folio?”

His silence gave me my answer.

I spun around. “Bring it to me.”

“No.” He stepped back. “Not yet. It is the only thing that guarantees my life. And Dillon is even more dangerous now. I will bring him and the folio to us when you have more control of your power. Then we can restrain him together.”

“Bring it now!”

“No. It is too soon.”

“Bring it!”

“No!” He braced; he knew what was coming.

The roaring fury of my Hua slammed through his pathways like a crashing wave, dragging his pounding heartbeat under mine. He staggered backward under its force then lowered his head, teeth clenched. I felt something gather within him: a sudden resistance that rose like a wall of rock. The collision of Hua against Hua dammed the rush of my power, jarring through me like a physical blow. I gasped as my grip loosened around his will.

“Eona, it is too soon to bring the folio. We are not strong enough,” he panted. Blood trickled from his nose. He had stopped me, but it was costing him.

I rammed my Hua into the barricade of power again. The strike recoiled through both of us, pushing me back a step and knocking him on to his knees. Another buffeting blow forced a grunt from him, but I could not break through. Throwing all of my fear-fueled rage into the rush of power, I rammed him once more. The pressure doubled him over, but he caught his weight on his hands, the strain ridging the tendons in his arms. His block still stood strong. He looked up, the silver sliding across his eyes.

“See. Not so easy this time, is it?” he said. “I can already hold you back.”

Ido had found a way to stop my compulsion. He was no longer starved, no longer taken unaware. I could not