I forced my way through the fear, each deep inhalation easing my chest open until I found a familiar, deepening rhythm: the pathway to the energy world. My exhaustion dragged at me, a treacherous riptide that I had to fight with every breath. Under my hand, Ido’s heartbeat began to match mine, the ragged rise and fall of his chest blending into my own steady measure. The dim physical world around us twisted and bent into bright colors and streaming Hua.
Before me, the solid suffering of Ido’s body shifted into patterns of energy. Pain slashed and spun through his meridians in sharp, jagged bursts of Hua. Each of his seven points of power circled slowly, the silver pathways hampered by a thick black ooze. I looked closer. The points, from red sacrum to purple crown, turned in the wrong direction. I had seen it before in Dillon.
Ido was using Gan Hua.
Ryko, Dela, and Vida braced themselves in the far corner, Hua pumping through their transparent bodies in dazzling streams of silver. They could not see the Mirror Dragon above them or sense her power, but to me her vibrant energy radiated like a small sun, searing away the shadows of the dank cell. She focused her otherworldly eyes upon me and I felt my Hua leap to meet her huge, shimmering presence. Her sinuous neck stretched toward me, the gold pearl under her chin alive with surging flames. Cinnamon flooded my mouth, her warm, joyous invitation bringing tears to my eyes.
But I could not accept it. Not yet.
I dragged my attention from her glowing beauty and focused on the Rat Dragon crouched in the north-northeast corner, his wedged head bowed and pale flanks heaving. The power from the beast was sour and dull, a muddy energy creating pockets of darkness within the streams of bright color that flowed from my dragon.
Lord Ido? I called silently. Are you in there?
The beast slowly lifted his head. The large eyes were not depthless, like the Mirror Dragon’s. They were amber and clouded with pain.
Ido’s eyes.
“By the gods, you are in your beast!” I said, shocked into speaking aloud. “How is that possible?”
Eona. Ido’s hoarse mind-voice was full of disbelief. What are you doing here?
I pushed past my own astonishment and answered him mind to mind. I’m here to heal you.
Heal me?
Yes, but I need your help. The other dragons will come and I can’t hold them back. I need you to block them like you did before. In the fisher village.
Ido’s dragon eyes met mine, their sudden human shrewdness at odds with the ferocious blue-scaled head and fanged muzzle. Why do you take this risk? What do you want?
For all his torment, he had not lost any sharpness of mind.
I want you to train me.
Ahh. The big wedge head slowly cocked to one side. And what do I get from this bargain?
You get your life! What more do you want? Yet part of me admired his attempt to shift even this dire situation to his advantage.
The thin dragon tongue flicked. I will have one other thing.
You have no power to bargain, Lord Ido.
You have no power without me.
The blunt truth jerked my hand off his human chest. Across the cell, the dragon’s head lowered, watching me. Ido knew he had hit home. I could call his bluff, but we were both running out of time.
What do you want? I asked.
The red folio.
Of course. Ido had always wanted the folio. He had stolen it twice already, but had never got past its black pearl guardians. Rapidly, I gauged the risk; the Woman Script and codes would keep any secrets I did not want to share. Even so, I knew Ido could use information like an assassin’s knife. A compromise, then.
You cannot have the folio, but I will tell you what it holds.
Agreed. But I could feel his dissatisfaction.
Are you ready?
The huge opal talons spread, bracing for my power. Be very fast, Eona. I am almost too long gone.
For the first time, I heard a note of fear in his mind-voice. I pressed my hand against his cold, bloodied chest and gathered all of my own waning strength into the call to my dragon. Even as the first vowel of our shared name rang out in the cell, her power rushed through me, filling my seven points of power with raw golden energy that thrummed in a song of joyous union.
My vision split between heaven and earth, the cell heaving with bright Hua around the darkened shape of Ido. Heal him, I thought. Heal him, before they come. No time to slowly sing the body whole. No time to delicately knit flesh and bone. Heal him, now! Through dragon eyes, we saw the gossamer threads that stretched between the man and his beast, the earth world and energy. Too frail, too dark. In the distance, we heard the shriek of sorrow ten times over—the other dragons were on their way, keening the loss of their Dragoneyes. And under their shrill song came another sound: a bell, ringing over and over again.
The pulsing patterns of Hua that we knew as Ryko ran to the doorway. “The alarm! They must have discovered us. Eona, hurry!”
We felt our power coil, tight and strong, drawing energy from every point—the earth, the air, the waters, the heartbeats of a thousand living things—into one huge, pulsing, healing howl. We were Hua, and we slammed our raw song into Ido’s earthly form.
He screamed as our power wrenched him back into his tortured body, then exploded through every inner pathway. Hua roared through him, a fireball that fused torn flesh together, welded bone, and purified his leaden life force back into bright silver streams.
Ido fell on to his hands and knees, gasping. He looked up at us, and for a moment the planes of his energy face shifted into solid flesh, his shoulders and back once more dense muscle and smooth skin. Then his features shivered and shaped back into the rush of healing Hua. The silver coursed through his seven points of power, the orbs once more spinning in the right direction. My eyes found the heart point I had healed before; although it was now flowing with strong Hua, it was once again smaller and duller than the others. Did he still have the compassion I had forced upon him? And there was another difference that drew my gaze up to his crown point, the seat of the spirit. Deep within its whirling purple sphere was a small gap, black and malignant. I had never seen such darkness before in a point of power.
Beyond him, the vibrant form of the Rat Dragon stretched into sinuous strength. The beast’s sky blue body expanded and rippled, pulsing with the exchange of energy. He swung his head up, delicate nostrils flaring, and then we heard it, too: shrieking grief, its pressure building around us. Our heavy muscles bunched, ready for battle.
“Get out!” I yelled at Ryko.
The ten dragons burst into the cramped space, their brutal power gouging huge chunks of stone from the walls that spun and smashed across the floor. Through dragon eyes, we saw Ryko wrench Dela and Vida into the corridor as choking dust billowed through the cell. My earthly body doubled over, coughing, as the grieving beasts hurled themselves at us.
The Rat Dragon arrowed across the path of the western beasts, slashing with opal claws that drew gushes of bright Hua from the Dog and Pig Dragons. They pulled away, screaming. Our big red body rammed the green Tiger Dragon and our ruby claws raked across the rose pink hide of the Rabbit Dragon. We twisted, muscles straining to duck beyond the amethyst claws of the Ox, the wall behind the purple beast exploding into rubble. The blue dragon leaped in front of us, sweeping in a snarling circle, claws connecting, driving back the other ducking, diving, howling beasts.
Eona, like we did before. Ido’s mind-voice was strong, the orange taste of his bright power laced with sweet vanilla. Together!
His earthly hand grabbed mine. His touch pulled me from my dragon-sight and I saw him on his knees, head thrown back, amber eyes alight with battle. Then I was back with the Mirror Dragon, our huge red body rolling under the crushing need of the circling beasts. This time there was no hesitation: we opened our pathways, feeling the rush of orange energy. It blazed through us, drawing our golden power into a huge wave of Hua bound with spinning stone and rock, barely held in check by Ido’s
iron control.
His hand tightened around mine. With a roar, he let our power loose, a booming explosion that ripped through the roof and outer walls of the cell and slammed the ten dragons backward. For a moment, the glut of power turned the celestial plane vibrant red—the beasts were fighting the force—then the shimmering circle of dragon bodies screamed as one and disappeared.
The energy world buckled and snapped away from my sight. I was back in my own body, the glorious power of my dragon like a distant hum in my head and a hollow absence in my spirit.
Ido yanked me down to the ground beside him, his arm across my body. An aftershock slammed across us, pressing me against the stone and punching through the walls of the other cells, bringing a hard stinging rain of dust and dirt.
Slowly, I lifted my head. Half of the outside wall was missing, showing scattered bodies among the rubble: soldiers, called by the alarm and caught in the blast. A few shadowy figures were gathering at a wary distance. More would come.
“Are you all right?” Ido croaked. “That was too close. Either the ten are stronger, or we are weaker.”
I ducked out from under his hold, both my arms holding my weight. All my pain was gone. I tore away the field dressing— under the caked blood, the savage gash had knitted together as though it had never been.
Ido sat back, his full restoration also plain to see. He stared down at the smooth expanse of his chest and brushed his fingers across the uncarved skin, then twisted to see the condition of his back. I, too, could not help staring at his body and the marvel of my dragon’s healing power. All the damage was gone, his powerful breadth of shoulder and long legs unmarred by bru-tality. His musculature, however, was stark on the strong bones. Dragon power could not heal days of near starvation. Ido saw my attention, but did not move to cover his nakedness. “What is our number?”
I looked away, fixing on the dark figures outside the cell. Already the few had become many. “We are six, counting you.”
He rubbed his hand down his face. “Six? Is that all?”
“Eona?” It was Ryko’s voice, rough and urgent.
“Here,” I called, pushing myself up on to my feet. “We are unhurt.”
I touched my arm again. Better than unhurt.
“You’ve healed yourself, too?” Ido’s eyes ran along my body. “You are not crippled anymore.”
“No,” I said, flushing under his scrutiny. “A useful power to have,” he said. More useful than he knew.
“Soldiers,” Ryko said as he picked his way through the haze of dust and the tumble of stones that lay across the doorway. “We’re surrounded.”
Behind him, Vida, Dela, and Yuso struggled over the sliding, clinking rubble. I saw Vida pause at the sight of Ido’s healed body.
“They must have found the two men we killed,” Yuso said. He wiped at a wide, bloody gash above his eye, smearing blood across his forehead. “More are coming.”
“It does not matter.” Slowly, Ido pushed himself upright. He stared down at his feet and flexed his toes, then glanced across at me and gave one short nod—probably the closest he could come to gratitude. “Now that I’m whole, I’ll clear the way.”
“With your power? It is against the Covenant.”
Even as I said it, I realized how foolish I sounded. Ido had killed all of the other Dragoneyes. He would not care about the sacred Covenant of the Dragoneye Council.
His teeth showed in a wolf’s smile. “Don’t lie to yourself, girl. You know the Covenant is dead.”
“It is not.” The denial was hollow even to my own ears.
From the debris, Dela hauled out the clothes she had dumped earlier and handed them to Ido, grit cascading from their folds. “Since Lord Ido has already broken the Covenant in the service of Sethon,” she said, her voice hard, “the least he can do is break it again in our service.”
Ido eyed her as he pulled on the dusty trousers and tied the drawstring around his waist. “You have become very pragmatic, Contraire.” He pulled the loose shirt over his head.
“Necessity.” She licked her lips. “Will your power get us out of the palace?”
He looked down at his wasted body. “I should have enough in me to get past these men.”
“Do you have enough to kill Sethon?” she asked.
What was she thinking? We were here to free Ido to train me, not assassinate Sethon.
Ido shook his head. “I am not part of your resistance, Contraire.”
“But he tortured you. Surely you want to kill him.”
Ido’s jaw shifted. “I will kill him in my own time. Not at the convenience of your cause.”
Yuso stepped forward. “We all want Sethon dead, Lady Dela. But this is not the time. It is not our mission. We are here to get Lord Ido out.”
“The captain is right,” I urged.
“They are forming battle lines outside,” Vida reported.
A clipped voice of command and the ominous thud of running feet spun us all around to face the gaping hole in the wall. Troops were gathering around the building.
“We have men and horses waiting for us beyond the imperial guards’ gate,” Yuso said. “You know the direction?”
Ido nodded. “Everyone stay close to me,” he ordered. “If any of you stray beyond my protection, I will not stop.”
We clustered behind him, Dela and Vida huddling at either side of me, Ryko and Yuso at the rear. Ido’s breathing changed, the slight lift and fall of his shoulders sinking into the deep, slow measure that would ease him into the energy world.
This was the moment to test my link with him: I had to be sure I could control him.
Tentatively, I reached out with my Hua, seeking the pulse of his life force, ready to pull back at the first sign of connection. With Ryko, my link was fast and brutal, but Ido’s energy was guarded, layered, mixed with the vanilla orange of his dragon. As his mind moved closer to the energy world, I felt a pathway open, the distant beat of his strong heart drawing toward my own rhythm. Quickly, I retreated before his pulse melded to mine.
He looked back at me, amber eyes threaded with silver. Had he had sensed my presence? But a shout from the courtyard refocused his attention. The troops were advancing. He stepped through the hole in the cell wall—the rest of us moving as one behind him—and with an upheld hand, he hardened the light breeze into a sudden wind that raised the dust into violent eddies. They swirled around our tight huddle but did not touch us, their howling force building with every step we took toward the troops.
Soldiers raised their Ji only to have them ripped from their hands and spear the men behind. We walked toward them as the power of the screaming wind snatched up the bodies of the dead and slammed them into the living, the horror breaking the line as much as the damage from the heavy human missiles. Those who remained staunch were hurled backward, the wind like a battering ram that pounded them into their comrades and the walls of the guards’ quarters. Pebbles from the raked border lacerated their skin into bloodied shreds, their screams lost in the shrieking gale.
How could I control the will of a man with such immense power?
We passed the Pavilion of Autumnal Justice, Ido reaming the earth on either side of us with a flick of his hands. The ground heaved under the next wave of soldiers, the cobbles ripped out from under them as they ran toward us. The stones arced in the air, then rained down on their heads with sickening thuds. Vida grabbed my arm and turned her head away as one by one the large oil lamps burst across another rank of troops, setting them alight, the wind whipping the flames across the oil-splattered, screaming men.
As we headed toward the palace wall, I caught sight of soldiers rounding the far corner of the guards’ quarters. Ido saw them, too. With a lift of his hand, he raised the sands from the training arena. I ducked, although I knew the pale cloud that arrowed over our heads would not touch us. It hit the men like a thousand tiny knives, shearing away skin and stifling screams with suffocating force. Behind me I heard Ryko’s soft moan of horro
r.
Ahead, a section of the palace wall exploded outward in a crash and tumble of stone and dust. Ido’s pace did not falter. We climbed through the hole after him and across the debrisstrewn riding track, all of us fighting the urge to run from the screaming devastation in our wake.
Before us spread the formal pathways and cultivated groves of the Emerald Ring—the lavish gardens that separated the palace from its surrounding circle of twelve Dragon Halls. We had emerged near the Lucky Frog Pond, its famed frog-house pavilion rising from the gilded waters like a miniature temple. The burning palace cast a burnished glow upon its surface, and caught the wet jewel eyes of the frogs crouched within it. Beyond the pond, a round moon gate framed a raked pebble garden, the pale stones gleaming in the reddened light like a pathway of gold.
Ryko hooked his fingers into his mouth and gave a series of shrill whistles that pierced even the cracking, shouting chaos behind us. The inky shapes of men and horses emerged from a stand of cypress trees to our right. I saw the pale, dappled hide of Ju-long and my heart leapt. Was Kygo among the men? Surely he would not risk it.
“The god of luck is with us,” Vida whispered.
“He had nothing to do with it,” Ido said, his voice rough with fatigue. “I saw their Hua through the eyes of my dragon.”
He led us past the pond toward them, the silhouettes coalescing into the wiry figure of Caido and four of his men battling to control the string of horses. No Kygo: he had given Ju-Long over to our rescue. The beasts had caught the scent of fire and burnt flesh, and all six were balking at the attempts to move them forward.
“Walk them back until they settle,” Caido ordered, the mountain lilt in his voice flattened by urgency.
The men pulled the horses around and led them farther into the gardens. Caido strode across to us. For a moment, he stood transfixed by Ido, confusion pressing him into a hesitant bow. He knew Ido was supposed to be our prisoner, yet there was no mistaking the silver power that still pulsed through the man’s eyes, nor his natural command.
Eona: The Last Dragoneye Page 26
