Eona: The Last Dragoneye

to his knees as Dillon wove the blistering wind-song of the Righi across the water and blood of his body. I could feel it in my own pathways, whispering searing words of death.

“Eona!” Ido’s body twisted in agony, his hand tightening around mine. “Now!”

Above us, the Rat Dragon thrashed in the sky against the hold of the black folio, his power streaming into Dillon. Beyond the shrieking blue beast, the Mirror Dragon was a swirl of crimson, her massive body contorted, ruby claws and slashing teeth aimed at the dark energy that pulled at her golden power. I screamed our shared name through the hissing words of the chant. Her huge spirit eyes locked on to mine as our union exploded through me in a pounding rush of strength. My earthly body rocked back against Ido’s straining grip as golden union and sensual link fused into a torrent of power.

Dillon stood before me. “Too late, Eona,” he said, his shriveled lips drawing back into a death’s-head smile.

“No!” I lunged for him — trying to touch his dried flesh with the ring — but he was just out of reach. “No!”

His death song seared my body. Deadly heat boiled through me, slamming pressure into my head that drove spikes into my heart with every labored beat. I could taste blood in my mouth, my nose, feel it bubbling in my chest and pounding behind my eyes as if they would burst from my head. Everything blurred into a red haze. Above me, the Mirror Dragon roared as her golden power pushed against the blazing song, trying to dam its destruction. Screams — I could hear screams from Ido at my feet, and deep within my own blistering chest.

“Dillon, stop!”

“You want my power! Just like my lord.”

Gathering my failing strength, I launched myself at him again, half blinded by the pulsing red heat in my head. Our bodies collided, my clawed hands raking wildly for connection.

I felt the hard leather of the folio, and then my fingers closed around papery skin and bone. The circle of gold around my thumb found his wizened flesh. Please, I prayed, let it work.

I tasted metal and the bitterness of the folio, melded into new power. Blood power. The ring was working.

“Stop chanting!” I screamed.

The whispering ceased. Immediately, the consuming heat dropped into dull warmth. My vision cleared. Dillon’s face was inches from mine, his hot breath like the stink of rancid meat. I could feel his mind squirming against the force of the ring, his madness like a savage animal caught in a trap, snapping and clawing against it. So strong. So vicious.

My hold slipped — on his will and his arm.

The ring was not enough.

With a roar, he wrenched himself free and staggered back, the white pearls tightening around the folio in a pale stranglehold.

Searing heat exploded through me again. Ido screamed. Above, the Mirror Dragon bellowed, her golden power meeting the conflagration, holding back its deadly force.

A cold, clear thought pierced the scorching pain in my head. Do not fight it. Take it. As I had on the mountainside. The folio had wanted me, not Dillon. Its madness had reached for my mind, whispering promises of perfect power.

Madness. It would bring madness.

But it was better than this burning death.

“Come,” I screamed and held out my arm. “Come to me.”

“No!” Dillon shrieked. “The power is mine!”

I saw the dark energy gather in him like a snake coiling to strike. The white pearls unraveled from his arm in a spinning snap and leaped at me. They writhed through the air, dragging the folio behind them, then wrapped around my wrist in a slam of weight, binding the book against my skin. Power pulsed up my arm like acid through my veins. Dillon ran for me, his bone fingers ripping and dragging at the folio’s defection. His chanting broke into a howl as its ancient power drained from him into me.

I gasped as the killing heat disappeared. Below me, Ido groaned, his body slumping with relief. “You have it. Kill him.”

I tried to focus past the words that ate into my mind — dark secrets that scored my spirit with old power. The song of the Righi settled on my tongue, hissing into soft sibilance. Its power was a bitter vinegar, drying my mouth, sucking away softness and hope. The chant was in my head, spilling from my mouth, lifting power from the Hua around me — from the earth, the air, the dragons — building into a fire of destruction that bowed to my bidding. I heard the distant screaming protest of the crimson beast, but her power was mine. All power was mine.

Dillon pulled at the folio, yammering with rage. My chant quickened, weaving the power into more and more heat, every whispered word stoking the scorching energy into his destruction. He arched back, screaming, but I kept singing the song of his death.

Clapping his hands to his head, he fell to his knees. Blood streamed from his nose, his ears, from the black pits of his eyes. The words fell from me into him, building and building into a furnace of annihilation. I was killing him, and I could not stop.

Help me, I prayed. Help me, Kinra. But it was too late.

Dillon’s scream cut off, his body disintegrating into a sudden searing wind of dark ash and red mist that pelted my face with wet, gritty death.

I screamed, horror beating against my mind like leathery wings, but the acid words kept coming. Ido rolled away from me, crawling across the ground, coughing with pain.

Another song rose through me, pulling at my mind, bright and cool, a counterpoint to the words of the folio. I knew that song. I had sung its healing with the Mirror Dragon. I felt its golden harmony break through the bitter hiss of Gan Hua, easing the dark hold of its power. My breath broke into a sob as the terrible chanting faded from my throat, my mind. I dug my fingers under the pearls, my nails gouging the flesh of my arm. With the last of my strength I wrenched the folio free and flung it to the ground. It landed in the dirt, the pearls thrashing like a cut snake.

I fell to my knees and vomited over and over again, heaving my anguish into the earth. I had killed Dillon. The atrocity was still wet on my face and hands, the bitter taste of death still in my mouth. Maybe it would never leave me.

Nearby, Ido sat back on his heels, scanning the ground around us. “Where is the folio?” he rasped. “Do you have it?”

I managed a nod. It was beside me, the pearls coiled across the cover.

The sound of hooves resonated through the earth, galloping at speed. I raised my head to see Kygo, flanked by Ryko and Yuso, their horses lathered with effort.

“Eona!” Kygo wrenched the horse to a stop and dismounted into a flat run. His eyes were on me, not the folio. Behind him, Ryko and Yuso swung themselves from their saddles and followed their emperor.

“Eona!” Ido dived across the red-spattered grass. “Give the folio to me. Quick!”

“No!” I knocked it out of his reach with my forearm. The pearls heaved it across the dirt.

Ido scrabbled toward it again. “Eona, what are you doing?”

“Lord Ido, stop!” Kygo shouted.

Ryko grabbed Ido’s tunic and hauled him backward. The Dragoneye twisted around, punching the islander. “Eona, it is the only way,” he yelled. “Get the folio!”

I reached for the book, my hand hovering over the black leather binding and shifting pearls. Above me, Yuso drew his sword. The hissing release of the blade was loud in the sudden silence.

“Yuso, stand down!” Kygo roared.

The captain hesitated, then stepped back and lowered his sword.

I looked up at Kygo. “I promised you I would deliver the folio. It is yours.”

“What!” Ido lunged forward on his knees, but Ryko jerked him back. “Don’t be stupid, Eona! You are giving him our power.”