Eona - Alison Goodman [117]
“A black gap?” He touched the top of his head, his face suddenly strained. “It is most probably payment exacted.” The wry edge in his voice was softened by resignation.
“Payment?”
“You should know by now that there is always some kind of payment for power.” Tiredly, he rubbed his eyes. “I used a lot of power to survive Sethon.”
“What will such a gap do to you?”
“That remains to be seen.” He gave a harsh laugh. “Perhaps I will never achieve spiritual enlightenment.”
“What did Sethon want from you?” I asked.
The sarcastic smile faded. For a moment he toyed with not answering—the reluctance plain in his face—then he said, “The black folio. And you.”
I had thought as much. “Did you tell him anything?”
“I don’t know.” His eyes met mine and I drew back from the cold accusation within them. “When you called your dragon that first time, you not only ripped my heart point open—you blocked me from my power. I was at Sethon’s mercy for three days.” His voice was a hard monotone. “By the third day I didn’t know what I was saying. Maybe I told him. I would have said anything to stop it.”
I took refuge from his blame in a sip of my soup. I didn’t know I had blocked him from his dragon. Fear feathered down my spine. I had left him powerless against Sethon. Just the memory of the man’s cold touch made me feel sick—even with Ido’s injuries still fresh in my mind, my imagination failed at what he must have endured at Sethon’s hands. I steeled myself against the impulse to apologize. It had been Ido’s own ruthless grab for my power that had blocked him from his dragon. And his own treacherous plans for the throne that had enraged Sethon.
“I think it is safe to assume that Sethon knows everything I know about you and the black folio,” he added.
“You know where it is, then?’
“Dillon has it.”
“He survived the flood?” The news brought a confusion of gladness and foreboding.
Ido smiled grimly. “The black folio looks after its own.”
“But if Sethon knows where it is, he will just go and get it.”
Ido shook his head. “Sethon knows where it was. Dillon is long gone.” With a sigh, he put the bowl on the floor. “Your servant is right. I cannot eat any more.”
“She’s not my servant. Vida is a resistance fighter.”
“And what about you, Eona?” he asked. “Do you fight for the Pearl Emperor?”
I paused, sensing a bite in the question that I could not see. “Yes.”
“And will you fight with your power when I teach you how to control it?”
“No, I abide by the Covenant. As does Kygo.”
“‘Kygo,’ is it?” He crossed his arms, the moonlight showing the stark curve of muscle. “You should watch yourself, girl. Just because you are a Dragoneye does not mean you can call an emperor by his first name. Not even a usurped emperor.”
I lifted my chin. “I am his Naiso.”
Ido’s heavy brows met over the high bridge of his nose. I pressed my lips together, half of me enjoying his astonishment, the other half tensing for the inevitable jeer.
“You are his Naiso? His truth bringer?” His shoulders started to shake with silent laughter. “You do not have a truthful bone in your body.”
“Kygo trusts me,” I said, hoping my vehemence would persuade him. And me.
He lowered his voice. “Then tell me, have you told Kygo that royal blood and the black folio can bind a Dragoneye’s will and power?”
I hesitated, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of the answer.
He smiled, his old arrogance lifting one corner of his mouth. “I didn’t think so. You may be misguided, but you are not a fool.”
“I haven’t kept it from him,” I said through my teeth, although I also spoke more softly. A habit: too many years lived with too many secrets. “I just haven’t told him. He would not use it against me.”
Ido gave a snort of derision. “He is royal and he wants the throne. Of course he will use it.” He leaned forward. “Ask yourself why you haven’t told him. It is because deep down you know he is a threat to us.”
In my mind, I once again saw that moment of hard ambition on Kygo’s face as he stared at the black folio on Dillon’s wrist; the book held such tempting