Eona - Alison Goodman [119]
“Really?” I took a breath, still unsure. I knew the land had inner pathways like our meridians—they were the energy lines that crisscrossed the earth in bright bands. But how was I to sense them without shifting into the celestial plane? All I could feel was the heat on my skin, and the thud of my own heartbeat, and the draw of my breath into my chest, and the soft, soughing breeze across my skin, and the pulse of the insects in my ears and—
“Five days,” I whispered.
Ido smiled. “Five days,” he agreed.
I laughed. “How did I do that?”
He looked at me quizzically. “You are a Dragoneye. It is what we do.”
I grinned, unable to contain my delight. I had listened to the land like a Dragoneye!
Then a sobering thought struck me. “But we can’t stop it, can we?” That was the real work of a Dragoneye.
He looked up at the sky again. “No. You will need training for that. And we will need more power. But at least we can get out of its way.”
Silenced by the news, we started pushing through the undergrowth again. For all the danger of an impending cyclone, I could not help marveling at my new ability to listen to the land. Ido was already unlocking so much in me. I looked at the man’s broad back, trying to divine what was in his serpentine mind. He glanced back as if he had felt my thoughts, and for a heartbeat I was caught in the questioning amber of his eyes. Although there was no slide of silver through them, I still felt the draw of his power. I looked away. Yet from the corner of my sight I saw him smile, and my own lips rose into the ghost of an answer.
Less than a half bell later, Yuso tensed and raised his hand. We stopped, watching the undergrowth.
“Sir!” Caido’s lieutenant edged through a patch of bushes to our right. I would not even have guessed he was there. “They are a hundred lengths or so northeast.”
“Has everything gone according to plan?” Caido asked.
The man nodded. “His Majesty is waiting for us.”
My skin prickled. Kygo was ahead. The news affected Ido, too. He drew back his shoulders as if preparing to face an overwhelming enemy. In a way, he was: Kygo would have little welcome for the man who had helped Sethon slay his family and seize his throne.
I wiped sweat from my hairline. As I drew my hand away, I caught a flash of bright white on my finger: Moon Orchid’s paint. How much was still left on my face? I probably looked like a piebald horse.
“Dela,” I whispered, glancing back at the Contraire. “Have I still got paint on my face?”
With a smile, she studied me, then delicately flicked her thumb under my eye and along the dip of my chin. “It’s all gone.” She cupped my cheek. “Beautiful as ever.”
We passed two sentries—Caido’s men, almost invisible in the undergrowth until they rose and sketched quick bows—and then the bushes and trees opened out into a spread of grassland.
In its center, Kygo stood facing us, two men guarding him, with others spaced around the edge of the clearing. There were new faces among them; no doubt local resistance. Yuso led us forward, and with a lift to my heart, I saw Kygo’s eyes seek me first—a fleeting connection of relief and gladness. Then his attention cut to Ido, his expression hardening. Even I felt chilled by the cold rancor in Kygo’s face, although his stern beauty caught in my chest like a missed heartbeat.
The ground underfoot already held the warmth of the heavy air, the sweet acidic smell of crushed grass rising around us. Kygo had undone the high collar of his tunic, and the milky sheen of the Imperial Pearl was framed against the dark cloth like a royal banner.
A length from him, we stopped. Behind me, Dela and the others dropped to their knees. I lowered myself into my own obeisance, but, beside me, Ido did not move. I looked up, dread creeping across my shoulders. The Dragoneye stood in front of Kygo. The two men watched one another silently. They were almost matched in height, each locked in the other’s stare.
“Bow,” Kygo said.
Ido’s eyes flicked from Kygo to the two guards behind him. “You do not