Eona - Alison Goodman [118]
“Kygo is not the threat,” I said. “The threat is Sethon.”
Ido sat back, a small smile playing across his lips. “You lie even to yourself. Now that is the mark of a fool.”
I stood up. “You do not know Kygo,” I said. “And you do not know me.”
I turned and walked the length of the stable, my unease driving me as far from the man as possible. I stopped at the edge of the doorway and gulped at the cleaner air, ignoring the curious glance from Dela, seated on a bale of hay nearby.
As my mind quieted, a sick realization crept through me. Ido was right; I was a fool.
He had just manipulated me into admitting that we were Dragoneye allies against the threat of royal blood.
It was a full bell after dawn before we neared the rendezvous in the hills outside the city. The hot weight of the monsoon was back in the air, its presence like a hand pressing on my chest. Or maybe the tightness across my heart was from the prospect of seeing Kygo again. I circled my fingers around the leather thong tied to my other wrist. The hard lump of the blood ring gave no reassurance. We had been physically apart little more than a day and a night, but I felt as though a chasm had opened up between us. As Xan, the poet of a thousand sighs, once wrote: Too many doubts grow in the cracks of silence and separation.
Caido’s lieutenant was scouting ahead, his forest skills rendering him invisible and silent. In front of me, Ido walked between Yuso and Caido. Although the Dragoneye was stooped with fatigue, he was still a head taller than the two men guarding him, and the overhang of trees forced him to duck under branches.
We were winding our way through dense bushland, Yuso’s eyes sweeping over the ever-changing shift of light and shadow in the tangled undergrowth. Behind me, Dela and Vida helped Ryko, the islander still weak from my use of his Hua. We had only shared one brief exchange of words during our flight from the city. I had tried to apologize—again—but Ryko had caught my arm and, in a hoarse whisper, said, “He was strong. You needed me to quell him. I’m glad you made him suffer.” I nodded, relieved that my friend was talking to me again, but I knew I did not deserve such a generous reading of my actions.
Ahead, the Dragoneye suddenly stopped and stared up at the sky, squinting as if he could see something in the heavy cloud cover. He looked over his shoulder at me with a frown.
“Do you feel it?” he asked.
I glanced up through the branches at the dark, bilious sky. Was he testing me? I paused and considered. “I feel something. It’s thick. More than just monsoon.”
“Good,” Ido said. “From what direction?”
Yuso stepped in closer, his hand on his sword. “Keep moving,” he ordered the Dragoneye.
Ido looked sideways at him. “Keep moving, my lord,” he corrected, his voice cold.
“Just keep moving,” Yuso said. “Or you will feel the hilt of a sword, my lord.”
“Wait, captain. Lord Ido has something I wish to hear.” I turned back to the Dragoneye, ignoring Yuso’s tight-lipped scowl at my defection. “How do I find out what direction it is from?”
“You already know,” Ido said, but his attention was still on Yuso, a sly smile baiting the guard.
“No, I don’t.” Then I realized something was in my mind, colored red with anxiety. I focused on it, trying to catch its sense. Slowly it floated up from its deep mooring. “West. It’s coming from the west.”
“Yes. Well done.” Ido finally pulled his gaze from Yuso and glanced up at the dark collection of clouds again. “West. The wrong direction for this time of year.”
“Wrong direction? What does that mean?” Dela asked behind me.
“It means a cyclone.” His frown deepened.
“Here?” Vida’s horror mirrored my own. “When?”
“Lady Eona, you tell us,” Ido said.
Another test. “How?”
“It is in the Hua of the earth. Sense it.”
I had no idea what he meant. “With my power? But that will bring the dragons.”
“No, just feel it. Like