Eona: The Last Dragoneye

become so close to Lord Ido.”

“Ryko!” Dela said. “This is not the way to do it. Not in front of the boy.”

The islander and I turned away from the Contraire.

“What are you saying, Ryko?” I demanded.

His chin jutted forward. “I see the same love of power in you that I see in him. You did not heal Chart for his own sake. You healed him as a show of your might, with no thought to his wants or needs.”

I bit down on my anger and glanced across at the boy. “You are happy to be healed, aren’t you?”

Chart groped for the liberation disc around his neck. “Am I still a free man? I don’t understand what this compulsion means.”

“Of course you are free,” I said.

Ryko snorted. “As free as a man whose will can be controlled at any time.”

“I will not apologize for using my power,” I snapped. My glance took in Chart and Dela, too. “You saw what happened in that meeting tent. I did what was best for the emperor.”

“You always have a good reason ready,” Ryko said. “You could have stopped once you’d healed Lord Ido. It was enough. But you did not.”

I crossed my arms. “You were not even in the tent.”

“No. But I felt you glorying in your power. You wanted to show your strength and fury and you used Chart to do it. Not so long ago, you would never have done that.”

“Even if that were true, it doesn’t matter.” I swept my hand through his accusation. “Everything has changed. I have to do things now that I never thought I would.”

“It matters to me,” Chart said.

I swung around to face him. “What?”

The boy flinched but his gaze was steady. “This gift is truly a blessing from the gods, Lady Eona, and I thank you.” He swallowed hard and held up the disc. “But you also gave me my liberation: the right to decide and choose for myself. In the meeting tent, you took that away.” He coughed and lifted his chin, stretching his throat muscles for more words. “When you were just Eon, you were my friend. I was always a real person to you. Never a demon freak without voice or mind. But in that tent, you made me the freak.” He drew himself up to his full height, the effort making his thin body shake. “You did not even look at my face until it was all over. I was just the thing you were using your power upon.”

“No, it was not like that,” I said, denying the sting of truth in his words. “You would have chosen to be healed, wouldn’t you?”

“That is exactly the point,” Ryko said acidly. “You did not give him the choice.”

“I do not need you to speak on my behalf,” Chart snapped at the islander. He turned back to me. “Have you already forgotten what it was like to be the cripple? To be allowed no feelings, no humanity? My friend Eon would not have forgotten.”

“I have not forgotten,” I said, trying to push down my own anger. “But I am not Eon anymore. Everything has changed. I am Lady Eona. I am the Mirror Dragoneye. I am the emperor’s Naiso.”

“Does that mean you no longer have to think of other people?” Ryko demanded. “Do you have your own rules now?”

I rounded on him. “That is unfair.” My resentment gathered Dela and Chart into its bitterness. “I am always thinking of other people. None of you understand what it is like.”

“You still should have asked me,” Chart said stubbornly. “Eon would have asked me.”

Dela touched my arm. “I know you are not easy with what happened in the meeting tent,” she said. “You have gone against your own sense of right and wrong. Deep down you know it. Do not let all this power cloud your spirit, Eona.”

I pulled my arm away. “Who are you to tell me about my power or my spirit? I am the Mirror Dragoneye and I will do as I see fit.”

Ryko stared at me. “Listen to yourself. That is something Ido would say. He has got inside your mind as well as your body.”

“Ryko!” Dela gasped.

“That is not true!” The heat of my fury reached toward him, seeking his Hua, seeking to force his words back down his throat. I felt my heartbeat engulf his life- force, doubling him over and dragging another faster, frightened rhythm with it. Chart. The boy clutched at the air, his knees buckling. Dela lunged for him and caught his frail weight against her body before he hit the floor.

What was I doing? Abruptly I broke the connection.

Ryko raised his head, panting. “Is this your answer to everything now?”

I turned on my heel and pushed all my anguish against the wooden door, feeling Lon shift aside. The sight of the watching crowd tipped my wretchedness back into fury.

“Go back to your tents,” I yelled.

They gaped at me.

“Now!” I screamed. “Get out of here!”

Ducking into low bows, the mass of people backed away and broke into small groups, scurrying through the pathways between the tents.

Rilla stood up. “What has happened?”

“I am the Mirror Dragoneye,” I said bitterly. “That is what has happened.”

I looked back at the door. Lon had closed it again. “Tell Chart I am sorry.”

“For what? Healing him?” Rilla said.

“No. Tell him I am sorry for not being Eon.”

I walked away from her bewilderment, my escort hurrying into position around me. The Mirror Dragoneye did not apologize for her power.

The evening meal was a drawn-out affair, with the tribal leaders eager to show the emperor their local delicacies and entertainments. There seemed to be a lot of goat, and a sour rice wine called the Demon Killer, and dancing to drums, all bound together with an extravagant bravado that drove the laughter into hard shrieks, and the drinking into fierce competition. I sat at Kygo’s left on the raised dais set up under the crescent moon and cloudless night sky, the dining circle surrounded by torches dug into the earth. There was little chance for private conversation, only a few snatched words in between the constant claims of the tribal leaders for our attention, and the loud relentless entertainments. In one moment of rare calm, Kygo leaned across to me, his hand finding mine under the low table. The gentle pressure of his fingers eased my wretchedness.

“You are pale.” His breath was spiced with wine. “Is something wrong?”

I swallowed, trying to force down the oily nausea that I knew heralded the black folio. Unbidden, my gaze found Lord Ido, seated under guard across the circle. Kygo had insisted that he attend the dinner, but the Dragoneye had refused all food and drink. He sat very still as if any movement would break him apart, and his skin had a gray cast that added years to his face. My sickness came from just the approach of the folio, but Ido had a direct connection to it via the Rat Dragon and Dillon. I could not even imagine what he was suffering.

Kygo followed my gaze. “He looks unwell.”

At some point very soon, I would have to tell him that I had forced Ido to call Dillon to us, but it was not a conversation to be tucked in between one goat dish and another.

At Kygo’s throat, the Imperial Pearl caught the flickers of orange and red torchlight as though it held its own fire. What would happen if I told him the whole truth? That I had kept Dillon’s arrival from him because the black folio held a way to bind my will and power. That I knew the Hua of All Men was the pearl stitched into his skin and his blood, and I had not told him because I hoped to find a way to save the dragons that did not make me a threat to his life. Any king in his right mind would kill me on the spot.

I shrugged. “Nothing is wrong with me,” I said. “Except too much goat.”

He smiled, squeezing my hand. “It is not my favorite meat, either, but it is certainly abundant.” He lowered his voice. “The things we do in the name of duty.”

His attention was claimed by Soran with yet another drunken story of battle prowess. I watched him graciously accept a piece of roasted goat from a fresh platter, his eyes meeting mine in a quick slide of amusement. The intimacy of the glance sent a wash of warmth through me that distilled into a single sharp ache of desire.