Eona: The Last Dragoneye

by Alison Goodman

  “It will not take long.” He cleared his throat, the hard swallow forcing my gaze back to the jewel at its base. “I have come to understand that I have offended you with my honesty about your power,” he said. “I am not accustomed—” He paused and rubbed his chin. “I mean, apart from my father, there has been no one whose opinion I was required to consider. And I’ve never had to”—his finger traced the edge of the pearl—“pursue a woman.”

  Was the emperor apologizing to me?

  He took a deep breath. “I cannot take back those words—we both know they were the truth—but I regret that they caused you hurt.” He reached across and took my hand. “And they did not take into account the importance I place upon your role as Naiso. Eona, you are the moon balance to my sun.”

  For a moment, I could not speak. His balance? My heart ached with the trust in his words. I wanted to be his balance, but I was more likely to be his death.

  “I am honored, Your Majesty,” I stammered.

  “Kygo,” he corrected softly. “I am sorry I hurt you, Eona.”

  His sincerity sliced through me like a knife. I tightened my hold on his hand and felt hard metal pressing into my skin; the blood ring was back on his finger. Good. He needed the protection. “You know I would never hurt you, Kygo.”

  “I know.” His head tilted; a smile quickly suppressed. “Of course, you have already punched me in the throat and tried to stab me with a sword, but I know you would never hurt me.”

  I closed my eyes, but it did not stop the tears. He did not know how much truth was in his jest: at the inn, I had barely held back Kinra’s murderous desire for the pearl. And that was even before I had been touched by the madness of the black folio.

  “Eona, I’m only teasing,” he said. The soft touch of his fingers stopped the track of my tears.

  I pressed my wet cheek into his hand, unwilling to open my eyes and see the pearl. Unwilling to see the truth. But I knew Ido was right. The pearl was the way to save the dragons. To save our power. Even as he had said it—even as I had denied it—I had known it to be true. Like a part of a wooden puzzle locking into place, creating a picture of pain.

  I took a shaking breath. Kinra had not been a power-hungry traitor, after all; she had been trying to save the dragons. There was no taint of treachery in my blood. Yet that did not change the fact that she was still trying to take the pearl through me— her Dragoneye descendant—and it was endangering Kygo’s life. I was not going to be a puppet of my ancestor or the gods or whoever held the rods of this shadow play. Not without a fight. There had to be another way to save the dragons. Another way of mastering Gan Hua. And I could think of only one place it might be: the black folio.

  I opened my eyes. “I know,” I said, but my gaze had already locked onto the pearl.

  Always the pull of its power nestled in the back of my mind. Now I knew why. Kinra. I had to protect Kygo and the pearl until Dillon brought the black folio. Until I found a way to save the dragons without the Hua of All Men.

  I had to protect Kygo from Kinra. And I had to protect him from me.

  I pressed my lips against his palm, into the soft gateway of energy, imprinting his touch and smell upon my spirit. Then, forcing a smile, I stepped back. Away from the sun that balanced my moon.

  Ryko was the first person I saw as I followed Kygo back into the circle of our camp. Apart from the sentries stationed around the edge, the islander was the only one on his feet. Everyone else was preparing for sleep or hunched over food and eating with tired intensity. In contrast, Ryko was shifting from foot to foot, all of his attention focused on Ido at the other side of the scrubby clearing. The Dragoneye had been escorted back from our training session, and one of the guards—Jun the archer— was tying his wrists again. Ido looked across at me as a rustle of soft greetings announced our arrival, but I turned away from his scrutiny. I did not want to see what was in his face.

  With a quick bow to Kygo, I headed toward Lady Dela. She was leaning against a supply pack slowly eating a dried plum, her fatigue like a heavy cloak across her shoulders. “I have a favor to ask,” I said.

  She wiped her mouth delicately with two fingers. “Anything, as long as I don’t have to get up.”

  I leaned closer, lowering my voice to a mere breath. “I need you to find out if the folio has the reason why Kinra was executed.”

  Dela frowned. “We know why,” she whispered, touching the book bound to her wrist. “For treason.”

  I had not told Dela that I believed Kinra had attempted to steal the Imperial Pearl. If it was in the red folio, then she would find it. And if it was not, then she did not have to know. Not yet, anyway. For a moment, I felt an overwhelming urge to tell her the meaning of the Hua of All Men. To share the horror. But she would tell Kygo—that was a certainty—and he would have to protect the pearl.

  Unbidden, a terrible thought shivered through me: Emperor Dao had executed Kinra to protect the pearl. Love against power, and power had won.

  I needed more time to master Gan Hua. More time to find another way to save the dragons. Then I would tell Kygo everything.

  “Yes, we know it was treason,” I said softly. “But I need to know exactly what she did, and why.”

  Especially why. I needed proof.

  Dela nodded. “I’ll look. There were no specifics in the note at the back, but it might be within the coded sections.” She started to unwind the pearls, then paused. “I did glean another piece of information. At the very beginning of our bargain with the dragons, there were always two ascendant dragons each year, not just one—the male dragon who was in his Ascendant year of the cycle and the Mirror Dragon. She was always ascendant—whether with a male dragon or on her own in the Mirror Dragon year—until she went missing after Kinra’s death.”

  Another piece of the puzzle, but where did it fit?

  “If she was always ascendant, does it mean that dragon power has been halved since she left?” I mused. “Is that part of the reason why the dragons need to be saved?”

  Dela shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said tiredly. “I just decode it.”

  “And I appreciate all your hard work.” I clasped her arm in thanks.

  As I withdrew, she caught my hand. “You’re upset, and so is Ryko. Has something happened?”

  I squeezed her fingers. “Everything is fine.”

  I turned to leave, but was stopped by Ryko. “Lady Eona, can I speak to you?”

  I was fairly sure it was nothing I wanted to hear, but I allowed him to steer me away from Dela. He led me to the edge of the camp at a careful distance between two perimeter guards.

  “What was that?” he demanded. All of his usual stolid composure was gone.

  “What?”

  He leaned down. “Don’t treat me like an idiot. I know what it feels like to be compelled by you. You have done it to me enough times. And I know you compelled Ido just now, in such a way that”—he pressed his two fists together—“Eona, what have you done?”

  Heat rushed to my face. “I did what I had to do,” I said, lowering my voice. “Lord Ido found a way to block my compulsion. I found another way to his will. It is no different.”

  “No different?” His long islander eyes held mine. “Do you really believe that? You must know you are playing with fire. You heard what Momo said.”

  “Would you prefer that I not have any power over him?”

  His chin jutted mulishly. “I would prefer him dead.”

  I glared at him.

  He conceded with a reluctant tilt of his head. “Just be careful. Dela is worried sick about you.”

  “She is worried sick about you, too.” His hard stare warned me away, but right then I had no patience for unnecessary suffering. “You are a fool if you think she cares about rank and fortune.”

  “I know she does not.”

  “Is it because she is physically a man?”

  He gave a sharp laugh. “I grew up around stranger couplings. That is not the reason.�
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  I crossed my arms. “What is, then?”

  He rocked on his feet and, for a moment, I thought he was going to walk away.

  “I am not meant to be alive,” he finally said. “Shola allowed you to pull me back from my death. Do you think it was out of pity?”

  I swallowed, remembering the fisher village. He had truly been walking the pathway to his ancestors.

  “I am here for a reason,” he said with determination. “I do not know what it is, but I doubt it is to find my own happiness. I am marked by Shola, and she will reclaim me when my part is played in this gods’ game. I do not have the right to pull Dela close or make plans. It would not be honorable.”

  “You are here because I healed you, Ryko. My power brought you back from death. If anyone has a say in your life, it is me.” I jabbed my finger into my chest. “And I say take happiness while you can.”

  At least one of us could have it.

  “Are you so powerful now that you count yourself with gods?” he demanded.

  “No! You know I did not mean that.”

  “You may have control of my will, Lady Eona, but you do not have control of my honor. It is all that I have left. It is all that I can give Dela.” He gave a stiff bow. “With your permission.” Without waiting, he turned and walked away.

  I watched Dela’s pale face turn to follow him as he strode across the camp. So much unhappiness in the name of duty and honor.

  The village of Sokayo had a bathhouse.

  It was a small, foolish thing to be excited about, but the report from Caido—recently returned from scouting the village—still lifted my spirits. We were less than a full bell’s walk away, and had taken temporary refuge in a ravine with a small stream at its base. Although it was midmorning, Kygo had decided we could cautiously cross the final distance. Opposite me in the circle of intent listeners, Vida was grinning too, although I doubted it was from the thought of a hot bath; she would soon be reunited with her father.

  And with Master Tozay would come my mother.

  As Caido continued his report, I rubbed at the dust and sweat ingrained on the skin of my arms, flicking off tiny rolls of dirt. The shallow stream had provided a welcome drink and a quick cooling splash, but only a long, hot soak was going to budge the result of three days of hard training and traveling. Hopefully the bath house would have some kind of soap or washing sand. I did not want to look like a slattern.

  “I can see why Master Tozay elected to use the harbor. It is sheltered and deep,” Caido said. “But the village has strategic problems; it is in a cove between cliffs, with limited routes in and out.”

  Beside me, Kygo brushed away a spiral of persistent flies. “How much risk?” he asked Yuso.

  The captain shook his head. “I would say low. The villagers support the resistance, do they not?” Caido nodded. “Then it will be manageable.”

  “My father has charted all of the coastline. He knows the harbors as well as he knows his own children,” Vida added. “This will be the best one for him to use with the tides.”

  Kygo turned to me. “And the cyclone?”

  I glanced up at the strange sky. The dark clouds were high but held the oppressive weight of a low storm, with the occasional flash of dry lightning. A hot inland wind had brought the swarms of tiny flies that surrounded us.

  “Still two days away,” I said.

  Outside the circle, I saw Ido nod his agreement. We had not spoken since I had compelled him to call Dillon. Dela told me that his gaze followed me everywhere, but so far I had managed to avoid meeting his eyes. The intimacy of that new compulsion was still in my blood. No doubt it lingered within him, too.

  “Cannot Lord Ido stop the development of this cyclone?” Kygo asked me. He refused to give Ido the favor of direct communication.

  Ido leaned forward. “No, Lord Ido cannot stop it by himself,” he said, with an edge in his voice.

  Kygo angled his face away from the Dragoneye and waited for me to answer.

  “No,” I said brusquely.

  It felt stupid repeating what everyone else had already heard. I grabbed on to the minor irritation—anything to stop the ache I felt whenever I looked at Kygo. Distracted by the hardship of traveling fast and covertly, he had not yet noticed the careful space I was keeping between us.

  “My father will be able to outrun it, if all goes to plan and we board at dusk,” Vida said.

  “Then let’s go in,” Kygo said. “We don’t want to miss our boat.”

  We were met outside the village by a keen-eyed lookout. With an apologetic bow, he explained that his orders were to lead us along the cliff path to the house of Elder Rito. As we followed the young man in single file along a track suited more to goats than men, the cove below came into view between the coarse bushes—a white sand crescent dotted with a few beached boats and drying nets. I stopped, overtaken by the image of another white beach and a woman holding out her hand. My mother. I almost had a clear picture of her face. But it was gone in an instant, only an echo of emotion left behind—and even that was blurred. Batting away a sticky fly, I hurried along the path to close the gap behind Dela, still caught in the soft-edged pull of my memory.

  Elder Rito’s cottage was set on a slope overlooking the cove. The small wooden dwelling was so faded by wind, rain, and salt that its silvered silhouette looked as if it was made of the gray sea below it. Inside, the furnishings in the single room were as worn as the exterior, but there was a scent of spicy fish stew that brought saliva to my mouth, and a pleasing order to the sparse belongings. As we gathered in the cramped space, three old men bent into kowtows on the worn straw matting: the elders of Sokayo.

  “You may rise,” Kygo said.

  All three sat back stiffly on their heels. Each had the dark, weathered skin of the coastal dweller and gnarled hands from years of hauling nets. The man kneeling in the center—Rito, their spokesman—also had the distinction of a hideous scar that ran straight across his cheeks and nose. “An encounter with a sea ray,” our young guide had thoughtfully informed us before we entered the house. Even warned, it was hard not to stare at the puckered ruin of his face.

  “You are Elder Rito?” Kygo asked. The old man nodded. “We are grateful for your village’s hospitality.”

  “It is our honor, Your Majesty,” Rito said. His eyes flicked to the Imperial Pearl. “Our loyalty is to you and the memory of your revered father, who walks among the golden gods. We know you are the true heir to his enlightened throne.” Rito bowed, then turned to me. “We are honored to welcome you, too, Lady Dragoneye.”

  “You know who I am?” I asked.

  “Your true identity is widespread now, my lady. Tacked to trees and whispered in taverns. As is the tragic news of the slaying of your ten Dragoneye brothers.”

  His eyes went to Ido’s bound hands, then traveled up to the Dragoneye’s face. For such an old man, the threat within that slow gaze was palpable. Perhaps it was the scar across his face that intensified the menace; only a fierce and strong-willed man could have survived that injury. Ido’s fingers curled into fists.

  “For the time being, Lord Ido is under our protection, Elder Rito,” Kygo said.

  “Of course, Your Majesty,” Rito said, bowing again.

  “Have there been more troops in the area than usual?” Yuso asked.

  “Activity has been increasing everywhere,” Rito said. “We have had our share of scrutiny, but nothing that differs from other villages in the area. Probably less, since we are farther from the main thoroughfare and do not have grain or livestock for the taking.”

  “You have extra sentries posted?”

  “Of course, but you are welcome to review them if you wish.”

  Yuso nodded. “Thank you. I will.”

  Rito turned his attention back to me. “You have seen the flies, my lady?” I nodded. “The dogs are also crying at night. And the children have seen ants climbing trees with their eggs on their backs—signs that a cyclone is coming from an
unseemly direction.”

  “Yes,” I said. “From the west. It will arrive here in two days.”

  He leaned forward, his face sharpening. “Can you stop it, my lady?” His eyes went to Ido, then back to me.

  I licked my lips, mouth suddenly dry. “I’m sorry, Elder Rito. Lord Ido and I cannot stop it.”

  “Ahh.” The slow exhale was full of crushed hope. Rito glanced to the elder at his right and jerked his head toward the doorway.

  The other man nodded, then bowed to Kygo. “May I withdraw, Your Majesty?” His voice cracked with urgency. “We need to bring our cyclone preparations forward.”

  “Of course.”

  As the elder rose and retreated from the room, it felt as though all eyes were upon me. Still useless, they seemed to say.

  “Your Majesty, we have hot food ready and have prepared places for sleep,” Rito finally said. “If there is anything else you or Lady Eona require, please let me know.”

  There was something else I required: solitude. Just for a short time, I needed to be away from the silent judgment of the world, from the watchful eyes of Ido, and from the endless questions and fears that seethed through my mind.

  “I believe you have a bathhouse,” I said.

  The old woman bowed, the arc of her mottled hand urging Vida and me through the blue door flags at the entrance of the communal bathhouse.

  “I will wait out here and make sure you are not disturbed, my lady,” she said with a shy smile. “And inside, you will find all that you requested.”

  “Thank you.” I returned the smile and pushed through the flags.

  Vida followed a step behind. After a hurried bowl of fish stew, I had spent almost a quarter bell courteously resisting the elders’ pressure to be bathed by the senior village women. I could not, however, refuse Kygo’s insistence that Vida escort me into the bathhouse. Her company was the closest I was going to get to time alone.

  We both stopped inside the compact foyer. The attendant’s small platform, edged by a thick carved railing, was set between two wooden doors that led into the bathing areas: faded blue for men on the right, red for women on the left. A set of shoe shelves stood on either side of the small area. I slipped my sandals off and pushed them onto the rough shelf next to me. Vida followed suit, placing hers next to mine.