“No. I want this finished,” Sethon said. “I waited long enough for the throne, and I have waited long enough for the pearl.” He indicated a man kneeling at the far edge of the platform; a physician, by the maroon cap he wore and the red lacquered box beside him. “I want Kygo and Ido contained and captured, and I want the pearl sewn into my throat. Today. Do you understand?”
It was Kygo’s death warrant. As soon as the pearl left his throat, he had only twelve breaths left to live. Less than a minute.
Tuy bowed. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Give the signal to Tiger Division to move into position, and return to your battalion.”
With his jaw set, Tuy bowed again and backed away. Sethon watched him issue the order to the twelve flagmen clad in leather armor who stood along the top terrace step of the platform. Immediately, two men at the far end of the line raised their large square pennants — one yellow and one white, on sturdy poles — and snapped them across the gusty air at right angles to their bodies. Below, the yellow division broke away from the main formations.
Sethon gave a grunt of satisfaction. “Now it is up to us, Lady Eona, to draw Lord Ido’s focus.” He stroked my hair again.
I pulled my head away. “You have had one day of dragon power,” I said. “He has had twelve years. You will not defeat him.”
I knew he would punish my defiance, but it was worth it. Strength came with bold words. I tensed, waiting for his blow. Instead, he laughed.
“When I had Lord Ido in that cell, I learned three important truths about him,” Sethon said. “Firstly, he must be in possession of his full faculties to use his power. Secondly, he can only direct his power to one task at a time.” Sethon leaned down until his face was close to mine. “The final truth is more about the man than the Dragoneye. After three days of my attentions, there was a moment in that cell when he regained both his faculties and his power. He could have razed the building to the ground. Instead, he directed his power elsewhere — to help you, I believe — and so he lost his chance to escape.”
Understanding prickled across my back. Ido had used his power to save me from the bereft dragons at the fisher village, instead of escaping.
“Lord Ido will protect you at all cost,” Sethon said. “It is why I know he is up on that ridge waiting to attack. Why I know this platform is safe. And why I know we will defeat him.”
With bullish purpose, Sethon rose from the chair and hauled me to my feet. My legs were locked into stiff crooks, and only his hard grip kept me upright as I stumbled to the edge of the platform. The flagmen who lined the step below us dropped into bows as Sethon pointed to the ground. “Do you see that squad of men down there?”
I stood swaying on the edge. Below us, about fifty soldiers stood in formation, their leather armor dull gray, as if they had emerged from the shadows.
“I call them my hunters. Every one of them knows what Lord Ido looks like. And every one of them knows how to disrupt a man’s Hua and render him senseless. They are here to capture Lord Ido and deliver him to me, safely contained by the shadow world. And you and I will keep Ido’s power focused on other matters while they do it.”
The strategy was simple and clever. Sethon did not need twelve years of dragon training; just fifty hunters who knew how to fight their way through a melee, and a distraction that would pull Lord Ido’s attention away from his earthly body. It was well worthy of Xsu-Ree.
“Begin the attack,” Sethon said to the flagmen.
Red, green, and yellow flags arced in a graceful sequence. A roar rose from the thousands of men below as the yellow division marched toward the ridge. I prayed to the gods that Kygo and Ido were ready.
Deep within my core I felt the rush of Ido’s union with the blue dragon. The sensation was muted by the black folio, but it still held the dark, crisp flavor of the man and his spirit beast. The taste of hope.
Around us, the air suddenly compressed. The clouds above the battlefield contracted as if they were a huge flexing muscle. Three jagged spears of lightning ripped the sky, their crackling power slamming into the yellow battalion. Gouged earth sprayed upward, the pale flash of bodies visible in the dark churn. The impact surged across the battlefield, reaching us in a wave of sound that held the force of a punch. Sethon and I both staggered back a step, the flagmen below us crouching for cover. I turned to hide my exultation.
“Continue the advance,” Sethon ordered.
The flags sent the order across the battlefield.
A thick rain of arrows flew from a line of archers across the ridge. The dark slivers momentarily filled the silver sky then were lost against the dull background of the ridge as they fell to earth. Only the sudden dips and gaps in the rush of men below showed their final destinations.
A low rumbling vibrated through my feet. To the left of the escarpment, a crack opened in the earth. On either side, the grassland collapsed inward, the chasm deepening and lengthening along the battlefield. It headed straight for us, as if two huge hands tore the earth apart. Screaming men fell into the heaving channel; half of the blue battalion was lost under convulsing earth and huge plumes of dust. I ducked as dirt and gravel pelted down in a stinging shower. Sethon was wrong: Ido was going to destroy the platform. Three of the flagmen dropped their pennants and scrambled down the steps.
“Hold your positions,” Sethon yelled.
They froze as the roaring progress of the chasm shook the structure. A wave of heat swept over us. I gagged, dirt and fear caught in my throat.
It stopped. There was only the patter of falling dirt, and Sethon’s harsh breathing, then screaming, from below.
I blinked away the grit and tears. The chasm had sliced past the platform and run the length of the plain, splitting a third of Sethon’s forces from the rest of the army.
“My nephew knows his Xsu-Ree,” Sethon snarled. He closed his hand around the pearls binding my wrists. “Show me the dragons!” he said, his face so close I could smell the metallic power of the folio on his breath.
The blood compulsion propelled me into the energy world, the transparent shape of Sethon’s features streaming with thick black Hua, the pathways along my arms riddled with dark veins. Sethon gasped at the sudden shift.
Below us, the battlefield whirled in violent iridescent reds and oranges — thousands and thousands of soldiers reduced to pulsing points of Hua, caught in the shock of the double attack from earth and air. The resonance of the lightning strikes lit the mangled earth in a fading white afterglow, and the dark scar of the chasm held the Hua of dying men flickering like the tiny glow of fireflies.
Above, the blue dragon circled the plain, his huge body doggedly resisting the folio. Another gossamer thread linked the beast to the ridge: Ido, working his power. The red dragon thrashed against the thicker stream of energy being pulled from her body, the dark return of Hua from the folio dulling her crimson scales. My eyes locked on the golden pearl under her chin. Her renewal.
Make it right. Kinra’s plea pounded through my blood.
The Rat Dragon dived, his power tearing another gaping chasm on the right side of the battlefield, straight through the red and green battalions. Hundreds and hundreds of bright points of Hua flickered and disappeared, caught and consumed in the splitting earth. Ido was carving out two unbreachable chasms that divided Sethon’s army into three. At the top of the ridge, bright lines of Hua—the resistance — surged down the steep slope to meet the remnants of the red and green battalions corralled between the deep trenches. I knew Kygo was among them, no doubt at the front, and I sent a desperate prayer to Bross to protect him. Ido’s position was easy to see; his thin thread of power rose from the center of the advance straight to the dragon, the beast above him still ripping the earth at his command.
“Stop him!” Sethon yelled.
The compulsion surged through me and reached toward the red dragon. Bitter black energy hooked her power, forcing us into union. There was no glorious warmth or cinnamon joy; just rage and f
ear in both of us. I fought it, trying to wrench myself free from the union — to save her from Sethon’s control— but the blood power burned its way through like acid eating another pathway to our bond.
“Stop Ido’s dragon,” Sethon ordered. “Attack it.”
“No!” I gasped, feeling the howling denial echoed through my bond, but the Mirror Dragon and I were already coiling our strength toward the blue beast.
We spread our talons into weapons, our massive muscles bunching into deadly intent. We launched ourselves at the Rat Dragon. He swung around and met our attack, shrieking, his power dragged away from the second chasm. It was not finished — a bridge of land still connected the two battalions. Our claws caught on blue scales, slicing open one flank into a gash of bright energy. He roared, his huge tail slamming into our chest and knocking us backward. The energy world spun past us in a blur of color as we strained to break free of the hold on us, but the tether was too tight. Circling upward, we swung around to face the blue beast again. He retreated through the air, but we followed, slashing at his deep chest.
Ido! I tried to force my mind-voice through the barrier of the folio, but it was like trying to call to him through a thick stone wall.
We charged, the blue dragon ducking under our impetus, one of his curled horns scraping along our belly. We twisted through the air.
Below us, the resistance streamed down the slope between the trenches Ido had carved into the earth. The soldiers caught in the corridor of land rushed to meet them. The two forces clashed, the tiny points of Hua smashing together into a morass of heaving energy. The gossamer thread between blue beast and Ido shone like an arrow pointing to his position.
“Send the hunters,” I heard Sethon order the flagmen. “Ido is straight ahead.”
The swish of the flags sent his command below. At the foot of the platform, the tight formation of the hunters broke apart, their bright points swallowed into the huge pulsing energy knot of the battle.
The blue dragon roared, turning with sinuous speed toward the unfinished chasm. We swept around, massive head down as we rammed him, the impact shuddering through the red dragon into my human body. Our huge jaws closed on his neck. Sethon laughed beside me as the blue dragon flailed with desperate opal claws and plunged, ripping himself free from our vicious grip.
I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I screamed in my mind, but I knew Ido could not hear me.
“Send in the rest of the red battalion,” Sethon ordered the flagmen. “We will finish this now.”
Reinforcements surged around the end of the unfinished trench. The thin silver line of their progress bunched, then pushed through the ragged lines of the resistance. We streaked after the blue dragon, screaming our defiance but unable to stop the attack compelled from within. Below, the gossamer thread of power that linked Ido to his beast was under siege. A shifting circle of bright Hua surrounded Ido, a smaller circle within it desperately holding back the assault: resistance fighters shielding the Dragoneye, trying to repel the hunters intent on capturing him. The circle broke, then regrouped, but not fast enough. The shield had been breached by two points of Hua. The thread of power flickered, and snapped. The Rat Dragon shrieked.
“They have him!” Sethon exulted.
“No,” I screamed. “No!”
“End your union.”
I felt the compulsion close around my power and tear me from the Mirror Dragon. The vibrant, pulsing colors of the energy world slid and buckled into the solid flesh of Sethon’s triumph. I lurched at him, pearl-bound hands useless, but in my mind I was clawing at his smug face. He caught me by the shoulders.
“It is just a matter of time now,” he said. “Look.” He forced me to face the battlefield.
Before us, the plain was no longer swirling Hua. It was straining bodies and screams and clashing steel. Mud made of dust and blood sprayed through the air as men whirled and lunged. But even to my untrained eye, the resistance lines were falling back. They could not hold out.
Sethon surveyed the chaos. “How does it feel to be the agent of your friends’ defeat, Lady Eona?”
It felt like my heart was being ripped from my body.
It took longer for the resistance army to surrender than Sethon expected. They fought to the end of their strength and hope, finally succumbing to the greater numbers and the loss of their Dragoneye support. I watched silently as each group of valiant fighters was defeated — either killed or taken prisoner — until the narrow battlefield that Ido had carved from the earth became a picking ground for looting soldiers and the scavenger birds that hopped from body to body in black-hunched eagerness. I was long past tears, my spirit so arid I could not even dredge up enough wet to whisper a prayer to Shola for the dying and dead. My mind had withered into only one thought: I had failed them all — Kygo, Kinra, and the dragons we had enslaved.
Sethon’s impatience finally took him down the steps to wait for the prisoners. He kept me by his side, his entourage of aides and attendants scrambling into positions behind us as he paced, one of Kinra’s swords swinging from his hand, his other arm hooked through mine as if we strolled in a garden. The wind that Ido had created was long gone, leaving a heavy humidity that was already pulling a meaty stink from the corpses. Soldiers gathered around us to watch Sethon’s final victory. Their morbid curiosity pressed on me, as hot and weighty as the air.
Another terrible thought wormed its way into my horror; was Kygo still alive? Was Ido? Sethon had ordered their capture, but things went awry in battle.
A murmur through the waiting throng announced the arrival of the prisoners. Sethon’s hold on my arm tightened as the crowd parted and a straight, proud figure slowly walked into view between two guards: Kygo, his hands clasped behind his head like a common prisoner, the Imperial Pearl on defiant display above the open gorget of his armored vest. He was alive. Behind him, two hunters dragged the limp form of Ido between them — delivered senseless, as ordered.
Kygo’s head was high, but I could see the pain and regret breaking through his body with every heartbeat. The defeat had stripped his spirit bare. Everything that was left was written upon his hollowed face — desperation, despair, and the core of courage that kept him upright. As the distance closed between us, his dark eyes sought mine, and I saw what else was left within his spirit. Me.
Sethon stopped Kygo’s guards with a raised hand. They pushed him to his knees, a length from us. The hunters released their hold on Ido, and he collapsed onto the ground, his eyelashes and brows the only color in his pale face. I found Ryko, Dela, and Tozay, too; bloodied but alive and kneeling behind Kygo, among the weary ranks of resistance prisoners. There was no sign of Vida. I prayed that she was safe back at the camp with my mother, and Rilla and Chart.
Kygo’s eyes fixed on the blood caking the front of my tunic. “Eona, what has he done to you?” he rasped. “Are you all right?”
I nodded, although I was not. “I’m so sorry,” I managed. “He’s compelling me.” I tried to raise my hands, but they would not move. “The folio.”
“You have less honor than a piece of shit,” Kygo spat at his uncle.
“And you have all your father’s honor,” Sethon countered.
Kygo’s jaw clenched, the outline of each muscle ridged along the strong bone. “I hope so.”
“It was not a compliment.” Sethon inhaled deeply, as if savoring his next words. “Bow to your emperor.”
Kygo’s voice was steel. “No.”
“Bow!” Sethon said.
“I will not bow before a traitor to this land,” Kygo said loudly.
His words sent a wave of anticipation through the watching soldiers, as if the gates had opened on two fighting dogs.
Sethon jerked his chin at a soldier standing guard. “Bring me one of his men.”
The guard dragged a kneeling prisoner in front of us. It was Caido, his body bent with exhaustion. He lifted his eyes to Kygo, his bloodless lips shifting in a prayer.
Sethon hef
ted Kinra’s sword. “Bow, or I will kill your man.”
Kygo stiffened, but before he could say anything, Caido suddenly lunged at Sethon, his thin face twisted with desperate rage. “He does not bow to you!”
The sword swung, the heavy crunch of bone coming a moment before the spray of blood through the air. Caido’s body slumped to the ground. I closed my eyes, the image of the man’s head half hacked from his shoulders stark against my lids.
“Yuso,” Sethon snapped. “Which of these prisoners are important to my nephew?”
My eyes flew open as the captain stepped out from the small entourage behind us. I held my breath as he slowly walked the line of prisoners, keeping a wary distance from the palpable hate that rose from the kneeling men. A gob of spittle arced out from their ranks and landed near his feet.
He stopped in front of Dela.
“This is the Contraire, Your Majesty,” he said.
Dela wore men’s armor and had pulled her hair back into a man’s high queue, yet she was all female warrior, fierce and sharp. The wound across her face had opened again, and her cheek was smeared with blood like war paint.
“I hope your death is long and painful,” she said.
Ignoring her, Yuso pointed at Ryko. “And that is the islander. He has been with the prince since the start.”
“Why did you do it?” Ryko said, his voice as hard and honed as a blade — yet in it, I heard the terrible pain of his captain’s betrayal.
“He has my son, Ryko,” Yuso said through his teeth.
For a moment the two men stared at one another. Then Yuso moved on, stopping once more. “Tozay, his general.”
Master Tozay lifted his head, his lined face gaunt and gray, the strong width of his shoulders slumped. He had always been the bulwark behind Kygo. Now, all I saw was a defeated man.
“Bring them up onto the platform,” Sethon ordered. “I want every man to see me claim the pearl and kill the resistance, once and for all.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Eona: The Last Dragoneye e-2 Page 45
