Eona: The Last Dragoneye

by Alison Goodman

  “I just want to keep you from any hurt.”

  “You can’t.”

  She touched the pain on his face. Gently, he drew her against his chest, her head fitting neatly under his chin. She leaned into him, her slim body engulfed by the wrap of his arms. He kissed her bandaged forehead, the tenderness bringing an ache to my throat.

  I quickly turned and saw Ido’s guard peering around the rise of the steps.

  “Return to your post,” I ordered, blocking his view with my body.

  With a bow, he backed away. I followed him, resisting the urge to glance over my shoulder. The guard took his position again in front of Ido’s jail. Although I intended to walk straight past, I found myself stopping outside the wooden door. The back of my neck crawled with the energy of the approaching cyclone.

  “Has Lord Ido said anything?” I asked the guard.

  The man shook his head. “I’ve not heard a sound, my lady.”

  With a nod, I made my way down the passageway to the loneliness of my own narrow cell.

  I woke with a jolt, my face only a fingertip away from the bunk wall. The cabin lamp was still alight, its yellow glow steadfastly fixed despite the steep rise and fall of the ship. The slap and boom of waves against the hull resonated through the wood, and I could hear the wind screaming, the eerie sound like a dragon in pain. I rolled onto my back, struggling to kick off the blanket, and saw a figure crouch down beside the bunk. With the energy of terror, I gathered my legs under me and levered myself to the top of the bed, every sense coming together to recognize Ido.

  “What are you doing?” I gasped.

  He held his finger to his lips. “Quietly, Eona. If I’m found here, Kygo will rip my heart out.”

  I lowered my voice. “How did you get out?”

  “Your constant link to me seems to have broken,” he said with a tense smile.

  His other hand gripped the edge of the bed as the junk plunged and rose sharply, the wood groaning around us. Beneath all of Ido’s smooth control, there was an uncharacter-istic urgency that alarmed me almost as much as finding him crouched in my cabin.

  “What do you want?”

  “Right now, I want to survive the next few bells. Have you felt the cyclone?”

  Involuntarily, I rubbed the back of my neck. The crawling sensation had hardened into pain.

  He nodded. “It has doubled its pace and shifted. The edge will hit us in a bell or so. We are not going to outrun it.”

  My unease burst into cold fear. Nearly everyone I loved was on this ship. “We should tell Master Tozay.”

  Ido looked up as another grinding moan resonated through the wood. “It is already too late.”

  “Can we do something to stop it?”

  “It is why I am here.”

  “I thought we weren’t strong enough to do anything.”

  “We’re not if I have to fend off ten dragons as well as work the elements.”

  “But you don’t.” A deep plunge rocked us. I grabbed the edge of the storage unit above. “The dragons only come for me. You could go in alone.”

  Ido rose and sat on the end of the bunk. “Eona, I am not strong enough to control the cyclone by myself. It usually takes all the beasts and Dragoneyes to redirect such force.”

  “So can we or can’t we do something?”

  “I have had an idea.” He rubbed his mouth. “It is one that has unknown risks for both of us.”

  “What is it?”

  “Bypass the ten dragons by compelling me.” His eyes held mine. “But let me take that power and use it to get us out of the cyclone.”

  “You mean the compulsion I used when I made you call Dillon?” I flushed, remembering the way his pleasure had curled back upon me.

  “That holds the most power between us.”

  Although I still wore my tunic and trousers, I pulled up the blanket. It would be a big risk; every time I used those pathways was a chance for Ido to find a way to block them.

  “Will that work?” I asked.

  “Possibly.” He watched me. “But are you willing to do it without Kygo’s knowledge?”

  “Why should we keep it from him?”

  “Did you tell him about your new way of controlling me?”

  I looked away from his keen scrutiny. “No.”

  “Well, someone has. Perhaps your islander guard? He certainly felt the difference when you first used it.”

  I shifted uneasily. “What makes you think Ryko told him?”

  Ido lifted his hands to his tunic collar, and in one smooth movement pulled the garment over his head.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded, pressing myself back against the bunk head.

  He threw the tunic onto the bed. The yellow lamplight highlighted the dark purple bruising across his ribs. “I would say Kygo is aware of your new way of controlling me.” His voice was dry. “He will forbid you from doing this, and place his faith in Tozay. Will you obey him like a good little girl? Or will you be the Ascendant Dragoneye and take control of your own power?”

  I stared at the damage on Ido’s body. “He did that?”

  “Yuso, on his Majesty’s behalf.”

  I shook my head. “No, that was Yuso, on his own behalf. Kygo would have done it himself.” I ignored the Dragoneye’s snort of disbelief. “If we do this, Ido, we do it with Kygo’s knowledge. Tozay has asked me to place all of my power at Kygo’s command—beyond the Covenant—and I have said yes.”

  “You’ve done what?” Ido stared at me, aghast. “You haven’t told him about the black folio, have you?”

  I lifted my chin. “Not yet.”

  He leaned across and gripped my forearm. “Not ever, girl.”

  I tried to wrench away, but he did not let go.

  “Do I have to paint you a picture?” he said. “If Kygo gets the black folio, he will bind me first—that is without question—but it won’t stop there. You are the Mirror Dragoneye. Your power will always be greater than anything he takes from me, and that will make you a threat. Perhaps not at first, but something will sour between you—maybe you’ll not agree about a war, maybe he’ll start seeing enemies where there used to be allies, or maybe he will just tire of you as a woman. But he will bind you, too.” Ido released me. “In the end, power is always used to gain more power. That is the nature of the beast.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  “I understand men, and I understand power, Eona.” The ship pitched sharply. I grabbed the edge of the bed as he steadied himself with a hand against the wall. “He has already seen his opportunity and asked you to break the Covenant again. Even after he swore on the beach it was not his plan.”

  “Tozay asked me. Not Kygo.”

  “They are the same, Eona. Can’t you see they are manipulating you?” He reached up and cupped my chin. “Poor Eona. His Majesty will press for more and more—through Tozay, or whoever else he uses—until he realizes he has created something that threatens his own power. We all know how that ends.”

  “That will not happen.” My protest sounded too small against the howling storm outside. “He loves me.”

  “He has asked you to go against your spirit. Is that the act of a lover?”

  I pulled away from his hold. “What do you know about love?”

  His eyes flickered. “I know that love is about power, too. Who gives, who takes. Who is willing to risk showing their true self.”

  The intensity of his expression sent heat crashing through my body.

  He bent his head, running his thumb across the rope-cut around his wrist. “You have forced your way into my Hua, Eona. Changed me. First, by your power—then, just by who you are.” He raised his head and there was no guard upon his expression. The raw need caught my breath. “You have seen me at my worst and at my weakest. Let me show you my best. Help me save this boat and everyone on board like a true Dragoneye.”

  I gaped at him, unable to force my mind past the avowal of love. For that was what it was, wasn’t it? Yet Lo
rd Ido did not love anything except power.

  “What are you saying?” I finally managed.

  The intensity gave way to a smile that held his wry humor. “I was wondering if you would help me save our lives. The rest relies upon us surviving.”

  Had he really changed? And what did he mean by the rest?

  “Eona?”

  His urgent voice brought me back to the priority in front of us: survival. “All right.”

  Ido pushed himself back against the other end of the bunk, into the corner made by the three-sided enclosure, and braced himself. “I’ll go into the energy world. As soon as I am with my dragon, compel me.”

  He was wasting no time. Each breath he took was smoother, deeper, until I felt the thrill of his communion with the Rat Dragon and saw the burst of silver across his eyes. The joy on his face sharpened my ever-present yearning for my own dragon. On a breath, I pushed past that deep ache and concentrated on the rhythm of my heart, reaching out with my Hua for the pulse of Ido’s life-force. There was a moment of resistance and then his heartbeat slid under mine, the fusion so fast it made me gasp. This was the level of my control that he had already conquered; I could feel the history of it within his Hua, like a soft whispered defiance.

  “We are ready,” he said.

  I found the desire within myself—too easily—and sought the route that would take me into the heart of his hungering. We both cried out as my compulsion locked in and roared across his energy, subjugating its fire with my own.

  But how could I pass him the power? Instinct told me that the only way was physical touch. I hesitated, knowing the man’s strength, then crawled across the bunk. His hands were flat against the wooden walls, his head craned back into the corner as he resisted the impulse to fight my control. I edged alongside him and reached to press my hands against his chest, but the boat plunged, jolting me backward. My reflexes caught the edge of the bunk wall in a wild grip, stopping my fall.

  “Eona!” he rasped. “Hurry.”

  I had to anchor myself long enough to pass the power. The straining muscles across his bare chest and shoulders held both menace and a sensuality that pulled me closer. I straddled his legs, knowing his body was under my control, but also knowing that at any moment it could change. With a deep breath, I pressed my palms against his chest, the contact forcing a low grunt from him. But there was no shift of energy.

  “Take it,” I said.

  “Can’t.” He forced his head down, the silver in his eyes threading thin enough for the amber to show through. “You have to give it.”

  “How?”

  The answer thundered in my blood and the race of his heart under my hands.

  The power was built on sensual desire. I had to give him my desire.

  The peril of it was like another pulse pounding in my body. My desire for Ido was not the same as my desire for Kygo. With Ido, it felt dangerous and double-edged; one side honed by hate, the other a jagged edge of need, not love.

  But we had to save the boat.

  With a prayer to Kinra, I released my dark attraction to the man. It leapt through me, pushing me against him. I dug my fingers into his hair and wrenched his head back, slamming it against the wall. For a moment the silver of his eyes snapped into amber again, the pain flaring into pleasure, then his eyes silvered back into the energy world.

  His response burst through me like a rush of victory. I bent and covered his mouth with mine, finding the taste of him—orange and vanilla, like his dragon—the sweetness doubled by his communion with the beast. He rocked forward and drew his legs up behind me. I met the rough demand of his tongue and teeth with my own. Power jumped through us like an arc of lightning, and I felt the heat of his low laugh against my lips. His body arched toward me, his hands gripping the curve of my hips and pulling me closer.

  Our hearts pounded together, power rising through the melded beat and the ragged rhythm of our breathing. It was locked between us, a spiral of energy that was like molten metal pouring through my pathways into his Hua. I felt him gather its force, his sweet union with the Rat Dragon seeping into our shared power. I could feel the blue beast’s presence, its own massive power boosted by the energy.

  In a dizzying wrench, the cabin was gone. I was high above the boat, anchored in orange-vanilla power, the pleasure in my earthly body a distant thunder. Through ancient dragon eyes, I saw the raging silver water and violent swirling yellow of the cyclone winds roaring below me, bearing down on our tiny vessel. Driving rain slashed the building seas and claws of light stuttered across the dark sky, their flashes penetrating the celestial plane. Nearby, the Mirror Dragon shrieked, all her crimson beauty before me—so close, but unreachable.

  Eona? Ido’s mind-voice, shocked by my presence. As shocked as I was.

  I am with you.

  I felt the power between us surge into the blue dragon, his muscular body rippling with energy. Ido’s joy flooded me as he and the beast amassed all our strength into one purpose—an arrow for the eye of the massive storm. With sinuous control, they harvested high ice, freezing winds, and sparks of new lightning, weaving them into a massive bolt of cold energy. I felt the huge effort of man and dragon as they drove it into the warm center of the circling winds, piercing the delicate balance of the cyclone’s Hua.

  For a terrifying moment, nothing happened, and then one side of the yellow maelstrom collapsed, pulling its deadly force away from our boat. Huge dragon muscles coiled and sprang, blocking the wild under-surge of winds. The cyclone swirled toward the land, its ragged edges curling around a smaller center. I felt every delicate shift of power between man and beast as they wrestled the remnants of its collapsed fury into a driving wind that pushed our tiny vessel across the silvered waves toward its far-off goal.

  I reveled in Ido’s command of his dragon and the majesty of their union. The Mirror Dragon and I could be like that—we could rule the elements, rule the Hua of the world.

  For a heartbeat, I was back in the cabin—Ido’s mouth on mine, the shift of his heavy muscles under my hands, and the rush of power mixed with the building heat of pleasure.

  Then we were above the boat again, spinning into exhilaration, the tiny points of Hua on deck, crawling across its surface, safe, all safe. Out of the ravening fury of the circling winds and sweeping rains. So much power pulsing through us.

  A painful grip on my shoulders yanked me back into my body, into the cabin. I was being dragged off the bunk. I hit out, my desperate punch catching my assailant in the chest.

  “Stupid girl!”

  Ryko’s voice. I twisted around in his brutal grip and saw his snarl of disgust. He shoved me against the far wall, then turned back to the Dragoneye. Dela stood in the doorway, her face white.

  Ido lunged at the islander. “What are you doing? What—”

  His protest was stopped by Ryko’s fist. Ido fell against the back of the bunk, hands to his face. The islander leaned in and grabbed him by the hair, hauling him out and slamming him against the wall in one savage move.

  “Get your—”

  “Shut up!” Ryko thrust his face up to the Dragoneye’s, daring him to move or speak.

  “Lord Ido! You must go back now,” Dela said. “They will realize it is dragon power. If His Majesty finds you in here, you’ll die!” She grabbed his arm, her courtier’s eyes raking over the room. “Is that his tunic?”

  I snatched up the garment and held it out. She snagged it from my hand, her mouth tightening. “I hope you know what you are doing.”

  “We were saving the boat!” I said.

  The islander spun around to face me. “I know—I felt it!” He stabbed his finger at my dishevelment. “You’d better make up some story. Something that doesn’t involve the two of you together.”

  Dela pulled Ido into the passage, Ryko casting one last scathing look at me before following them. I took a step toward the door, then stopped. What could I tell Kygo? Power still thrummed through my body, Ido’s touch hot on my skin. I
looked around the cabin. The mattress was askew. With shaking hands I pushed it back into place and straightened my tunic, trying to find composure—and a convincing lie. I wiped my mouth, feeling my torn lip. I pressed my finger against the damage, the tiny pain an echo of the sharp shame building within me.

  I had paced the length of the cabin five times before the sounds of footsteps turned me back to the door. Kygo filled its narrow frame, Tozay behind him. Both men were soaked. Kygo had been up on the main deck, too—always rushing into the fray. An errant thought sent useless dread through my body—if he had stayed below, in Master Tozay’s cabin, he would have heard us. I dropped into a low bow, glad to hide my face for a moment.

  “Lady Eona, was that you? Did you calm the waters? Tozay says only dragon power could do that to the storm.” I felt his hand touch my shoulder, drawing me out of the bow. I stood and forced myself to meet his elation. Surely he could read the truth in my eyes?

  “Yes.”

  Kygo took my hand, his skin cold against my heat. “How did you do it? I thought you could not work your power without Ido’s protection from the other dragons?”

  I steeled myself; this lie was going to be difficult. “I can, for a short time, Your Majesty. Although I could only push us a little way from the storm.” I looked past Kygo to Tozay. “I hope it is enough, Master Tozay. I cannot do any more.”

  “It is, Lady Eona,” Tozay said. “You have saved us all. Thank you.” He bowed.

  “But how?” Kygo would not be deflected.

  “I have learned a great deal from Lord Ido, Your Majesty.” Four years of lying to survive kept my gaze steady and my voice calm. “It is why we rescued him from Sethon.”

  Kygo’s gaze was just as steady. “It is good to know he is worth all the trouble.” He smiled. “Your power is, indeed, becoming formidable.”

  “It is in your service, Your Majesty,” I said.

  I caught his glance back toward Tozay. “So I have heard.” Was Ido right? Was Kygo manipulating me?

  “You have hurt your lip.” He touched the fullness of his own mouth.

  “I must have bitten myself,” I said, glad he could not also see the race of my heart or the sharp rending of my spirit.