Eona - Alison Goodman [111]
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