Alison Goodman: Eona: The Last Dragoneye

“Get back!” I said to Ido.

I raised my sword.

“Wait,” Ido said.

He drove the long knife through Sethon’s other palm, forcing a sobbing scream from the man. Ido looked up at me. His smile was vicious and cruel and held the intimacy of a lover. “Enjoy.”

Sethon’s pain-filled eyes met mine as he strained to rip his hands free of the knives. For a moment, I held the sword tip over his throat. His lips drew back into the snarl of a cornered animal. He deserved the slowest death possible. He deserved pain and fear. But I could not do it. Yuso was right: I still had mercy. With a roar, I plunged both blades through his mutilated chest instead, the resistance of skin and bone jarring my hands.

Sethon gasped, his body lifting into one last thrash. The pearl rolled and settled into the hollow of his throat as the foul stink of his death release filled the air. I yanked one blade free, the man’s dead weight rising with the force and dropping back onto the platform. Swallowing my gorge, I sliced around the stitches and ripped the pearl free. Kinra’s swords had finally fulfilled their mission.

I opened my hand. The Imperial Pearl was heavy and hot— too hot to be holding just the last of Sethon’s body heat.

Ido wrenched the long knife out of Sethon’s palm and wiped the wet blade on his trouser leg. “That was almost as satisfying as I thought it would be.” He looked up at me, one eye squinting in censure. “Although somewhat prematurely ended.” He slid the cleaned knife into the side of his boot. “So where’s the folio?”

He followed my gaze across the platform. Kygo and Dela had killed or driven away the remaining guards and were now trying to scoop the black book from the ground, dodging the whip of white pearls. Dela held her ripped shirt like a net, ready to throw it over the writhing rope of gems. Behind her, Tozay sat slumped, his arm at an awkward angle. It was clear he was hurt. The dark shape of High Lord Tuy lay nearby. At least both brothers were dead.

“Kygo has the folio,” I said. “We can—”

Suddenly I could not speak. My senses were lost in a shock wave of pain that blasted every pathway within me. Kinra’s sword dropped from my grip. My other hand convulsed around the pearl, the gold claw setting slicing into my palm. Through a gray haze, I saw Ido strain backward, his mouth open in a scream, but I could hear only the howl of loss in my own head. The air pressed down around us, then exploded outward. Two huge dragon bodies — red and blue — boomed onto the plain, the backlash of energy knocking me to my knees.

The massive crimson body of the Mirror Dragon — twice the size of the male dragons — filled the eastern gap within the circle. She threw back her head and called, a high ululating sound that throbbed through her long throat. The gleaming fire of her red and orange scales rippled with every shift of muscle. Huge cartwheel eyes shut with effort as she closed the circle with her body and power. Beneath her chin, the gold pearl swelled and pulsed, the song within it soaring over the thrumming shriek of the eleven other dragon pearls.

“Eona,” I whispered, but I knew she could no longer hear me. She was on the earthly plane, and our link was gone. Everything had been scooped out of me. I was hollowed, powerless, and I could not move with the raw pain of it.

“No!” It was the husk of Ido’s voice, cracked and devastated.

With a roar, his blue beast answered the red dragon’s call, delicate wings extending as one opal claw lifted and raked the air.

I turned my head. All my bones had dried into stiff desolation. “Ido, I can’t call her.”

Ido’s body was a knot of agony, his fists pressed into his forehead. “They’ve closed the circle.” Panting, he slowly raised his head and scanned the dragons. “We don’t have much time.”

DARK CLOUDS ROILED across the sky to form a circle above the twelve beasts on the ground. The still air shifted into a warm breeze that held the scent of sweet spices and salty sweat. And underneath it all was the dank piss-and-blood smell of battlefield death.

I heard the pound of running feet. Kygo’s voice penetrated my pain.

“Eona, are you hurt?” He crouched beside me. A long cut across his shoulder bled in thin streaks down his arm and chest. Dela and Tozay stood behind him, both of them bloodied. Dela held the writhing bundle of shirt and folio.

“My dragon is gone, Kygo,” I rasped. “My dragon is gone.” “No, Eona, she is here before us,” he said. “I can see her in the circle.”

I balled my fists against my chest, rocking with pain. “She has gone from me.” My voice rose into a sob. “I have no link with her anymore. No power.”

He curled his arm around me. I leaned into him, and the cold ache within me eased a little against his warmth.

“Tozay!”

Dela’s cry raised my head. I saw the general sway on his feet, his weathered face paling into a sickly yellow. Dela dropped the folio bundle and caught him, his solid weight straining her arms and bared torso. There was a nasty gash across Tozay’s temple that was still bleeding, and his sword arm hung useless— broken, from the look of it. But I could not heal him. I could not heal anyone ever again.

“He doesn’t look good.” Kygo rose to help.

“He took a bad blow to the head,” Dela said as they carefully helped Tozay sit on the platform. His normally sharp eyes were unfocused, his breathing short and hard. “He should be all right. Just dazed for a while.” Dela gently pressed his head between his knees.

Kygo crouched beside me again. “Did you get the pearl, Eona?”

I opened my trembling hand. The opaque surface shimmered and flicked as if tiny fish teemed beneath its surface. He picked it up between thumb and forefinger, the loss on his face echoing the ache in my own spirit. He, too, was giving up something: the sacred symbol of his sovereignty.

“How do you renew the dragons with it?” he asked.

Ido stirred. “Renew the dragons?” Slowly, he sat back on his heels and cocked his head at me. “Am I missing something here, Eona? What about our plan?”

Kygo stiffened at the Dragoneye’s tone.

“We never had a plan, Ido,” I said, meeting his stare with my own. “The ancients stole the Imperial Pearl from the dragons. It is their egg. We have to give it back. We have to let them renew their power.”

Ido looked sideways at me, the amber eyes hooded. “I know we stole it. I have always known.”

I gaped at him. “What do you mean?” Indignation pulled me up onto my feet. Both Ido and Kygo stood, too, ranged on each side of me in silent antagonism.

“I’ve read the black folio,” Ido said. “I know what the pearl is and what it does.” He crossed his arms. “The theft changes nothing.”

“It changes everything,” I said. “How could you know all this and still ignore your dragon’s need? His hope?”

“No doubt in the same way as many Dragoneyes have before me. No one willingly gives up their own power when it can be the next Dragoneye’s problem.”

“Not anymore, Ido. We are the last of our kind. We have to give the pearl back.”

He shook his head. “You don’t understand. If they renew, we will lose our power forever.”

“I know.” I felt a moment of bitter satisfaction. He was not the only one who knew the secrets of dragon lore. “But we still have to give the pearl back.”

His gaze sharpened. “How do you know? Have you read the folio, too?”

“No.” I wet my lips. “I went into my dragon. To escape Sethon’s torture.” Kygo’s fingers brushed my arm; a fleeting touch of consolation. “I saw memories from an ancestor.”