Eona: The Last Dragoneye

circling the knife embedded in his chest. A quiver of arrows was strapped across the man’s back. Although I stood a few lengths away and the low light of dusk was approaching, I could see that their fletching was the same as on the arrow that had hit Ido.

“Yes, this is Jun, Your Majesty,” Caido said, staring at the knifed man. He shook his head. “I can’t believe it. He has been with the resistance from the start.”

It was the young archer who had often guarded Ido. He had seemed loyal, but I had only spoken to him once or twice. Who knew what went on in the hearts of men? I certainly did not.

“Who is the other man?” Kygo asked.

“One of the village lookouts,” Yuso said. “All the other village sentries are dead, shot with the same arrows as those in the quiver. An efficient job.” He glanced at Caido questioningly.

Caido wiped his mouth. “Jun was our best bowman.” He looked across the beach to the boat where we had sheltered. “Good enough to make that shot with ease.” He sighed, the whole of his thin body lifting and falling with disillusion. “This is going to kill his father.”

Ryko stood from his crouched survey of the area. “It looks as if the sentry surprised Jun.” He pointed to a scuffed area behind two boulders. “The man got his knife home before Jun broke his neck.”

“What say you, Naiso?” Kygo asked. His eyes did not quite meet mine.

The emperor had ordered his Naiso to accompany him, and his Naiso had obeyed. But if Kygo had hoped Eona was also at his side, he was wrong. She was buried somewhere deep within me, numb and silent.

“Was he ever in the army, Caido?” I asked.

The resistance man nodded. “It is where he learned his bow skills. He had some funny stories to tell around the fire.” He cleared his throat. “I am sorry, Your Majesty, it is hard to reconcile the man and the deed.”

Kygo grunted. “I fear there is not much room for doubt. Still, question the prisoners for confirmation, Yuso. Maybe they saw him in their camp. ”

Yuso bowed, wincing slightly with pain. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Kygo glanced around the ridge again. “Leave his body for the scavengers and bring the villager back for burial.” He gestured to me. “Come, Naiso.”

I followed him down the narrow track. One of the soldiers on the beach had sliced into the long muscle of his thigh. Vida had efficiently stitched it, along with Yuso’s nasty shoulder gash and Dela’s slashed face, but she had no herbs that dulled pain. Kygo did not show it in face or manner, but the cant of his shoulders told me the injury stabbed with every step. Or perhaps it was the burden of Jun’s betrayal and the deaths of the fourteen villagers who had perished defending their young emperor.

The black ash on the track muffled our footsteps. All the foliage on the bushes and trees around us was dusted with it, too, and the once-white beach below us was now gray. The tide was coming in with the setting sun, the water washing clean curves of white sand as it surged and ebbed. Master Tozay’s boat was due into harbor soon. The village fishing fleet had already returned, drawn back early by the sight of the fireball. The hollow-eyed shock of the men as they had landed on the beach and seen the damage to the higher sections of the village had briefly pierced even my numb armor.

“For such a young man, this Jun had extraordinary spying skills,” Kygo said. “He must have woven a dense web of lies.”

“In my experience, young men lie with great skill and ease,” I said dully.

Kygo stopped and faced me. “It was not a lie, Eona.”

I felt my gaze pulled to the pale shine of the pearl, half covered by his tunic collar. “What was it, then?”

“It was me leading my army in the best way I know how.” He pressed his fingers along his eye sockets, rubbing away the strain. “Yes, I want you to control Ido’s power. But I swear it was never in my plan to ask you to break the Covenant and use the Mirror Dragon to kill. You and your dragon are our symbols of healing and renewal.” He crossed his arms. “And hope.”

“I did it to save you.” If I said it enough times, maybe it would make me feel better.

“I know. When I found out we were surrounded, my first thought was getting to you.” He reached out toward me but stopped, his hand dropping to his side. “You didn’t push Ido away.”

The abrupt accusation broke through my protective shell. “What?”

His jaw tightened. “He was on top of you, and you didn’t push him away.”

I flushed. “I had just killed hundreds of men with power that comes from my Hua. You cannot understand what that feels like — or what it takes from me.”

“But he can.” Kygo looked out across the water. “You and he are bound by power. Are you bound to him by anything else?” His voice was without inflection, as though the answer did not matter.

“What do you mean?” For a dizzying moment I thought he knew about the Hua of All Men. About the black folio.

He turned his head, his face a polite mask. “Do you desire Lord Ido?”

Relief — and uncertainty — made me hesitate a beat too long. “No!”

His look of disbelief was like a punch to my chest.

I stepped closer. “Kygo, you know Ido manipulates whenever he can. It is second nature to him. Please, do not let him come between us.” The pearl glowed within the edge of my vision.

“Every time you are alone with him, it feels like you are moving further from me,” Kygo whispered.

I shook my head in mute denial. He touched my face, the curve of his hand drawing me toward him. I closed my eyes and felt the soft press of his lips against mine. His hand shifted to the nape of my neck, guiding me closer against his mouth. I knew I should pull away — protect him — but I had to prove my certainty. To him. To me. We found the taste of each other at the same time; the sweet kiss forcing a soft sound of pleasure from him that shivered through my whole being. I laid my hands against his chest and felt the quick rhythm of his heart through the tunic.

He pulled me against his body, his hand at the small of my back, holding me against his hips. I shifted, trying to meld even closer to his warmth, his taste, his smell. His breath caught as I jarred his thigh wound. I started to move away, apologize, but he followed and captured my mouth again, his hand sliding around my waist and pulling me back into his embrace. A beat thundered through me, a pulsing, driving rhythm that was in my body — and, I realized, in the base of my skull. The pearl. I gave a shake of my head, trying to stop the pressure. The draw was not strong; I could contain it.

Kygo broke our kiss, the concern in his eyes holding back the desire. He’d misread the shake of my head. I brought my mouth to his again and felt him smile against my lips. The gentle press of his tongue parted my answering smile. His hand shifted from my nape to trace the curve of my throat and collarbone with exquisite slowness, his gentle touch leaving a path of pleasure across my skin.

He rested his forehead against my own, the rasp of his breaths echoing mine. His face was so close it was a blur, but I could still see the glow of the pearl between us. I slid my hand into the loosened cross-tie of his tunic, my fingers trailing across the flat muscle of his chest, toward the glowing prize. Toward the Hua of All Men. As my fingertips brushed the edge of the scar of stitches, he tilted his head back, eyes closed, the strong curve of his throat exposed. I could rip the pearl out now—

The pearl! A cold wash of understanding broke through the thrumming in my head. I snatched my hand back. With all my strength, I pushed Kygo away.

He staggered back. “What are you doing?”

I groped for a way to stop the confusion in his eyes. A reason that was not the pearl. “It’s the dragons.”

His confusion snapped into something more savage. “Is it? Or is it Ido?”

A sound from farther up the track wrenched us both around:

Yuso and Ryko, their guilty withdrawal making it obvious they had witnessed more than the last few moments. I turned and ran down the track toward the village, the muffled thud of my footsteps sending wisps of ash into the heavy air.

In the last of the daylight, Vida and I sat silently on the seawall and watched the arrival of Master Tozay’s boat. It was an ocean junk with three lugsails, the horizontal bamboo battens across the sailcloth like the ribs of a folding fan. The white painted eyes on its prow — eerily lit by the lanterns on deck — stared at me with flat accusation. Silhouettes on board darted to and fro with the business of anchoring. I kept my gaze fixed on the three