Eona - Alison Goodman [142]
But I was already lost in the depthless spirit eyes of my dragon. She lowered the immense wedge of her head to me, and I saw the golden glow of the pearl at her throat. I called our shared name, my joy leaping to meet the rush of her answer. Golden power, warmed with deep, woody notes of cinnamon, filled my senses.
My mind-sight split between earth and heaven. Ido’s Hua body sat before my own on the warm sand of the beach. At the same time, I was high above the cove and village, watching the swirl of energy colors and ancient pulsing ley lines through my dragon’s eyes. Together, she and I looked inland, noting the Hua of many bodies moving toward the endless flux of the silvered sea. Around us the blue one circled, weaving power that blocked the relentless need of the other ten.
“The bereft dragons. They can’t feel us!” I said.
“We are shielding your presence from them,” Ido said. “We can’t hold it for long. Show your dragon what you want in your mind, then use your dragon sight to find the lightning.”
With a thrill of excitement, I pictured Ido’s frozen flame of energy, then opened myself to the dizzying shift into full dragon sight, my earthly body dropping away from my senses.
Below us, the world separated into walking, crawling, flying, surging Hua. We felt the ebb and flow of energy through us and gloried in the delicate balance. We turned our ancient eyes to the dark clouds, tasting the molten energy that snapped across the cooler heights of the above-world. We watched the tiny rips in the cold Hua, each one birthing a streak of forked heat.
Find it. The voice was barely a whisper, deep within me. Find it. Below.
The soft insistence broke through my concentration, pulling me back into my body.
“Did you say something?” Yet it did not feel like Ido’s mind-voice. Nor did it have the strength and pull of Kinra’s need.
“No.” Ido said. His silvery Hua leaped into a quicker flow through his meridians. “Is it the ten? Are they coming?”
“No!” I did not want to lose this chance to use my power. “It’s not them. It’s nothing.”
I clenched my teeth and pictured the lightning again, straining to hold the image as I called the Mirror Dragon. She was there, waiting, the embrace of her power once again raising me above my earthbound body and narrow senses. We spiraled into the bright energy world. Power flowed in and out of us, the exchange strong and smooth, beating a rhythm of balance and harmony. Our ancient eyes searched the sky, waiting for the—
Find it, the voice whispered. Below. Find it.
Below? Our attention switched to the ground. Hundreds of points of Hua had gathered in a neat fan on the hill above the village. Ranks of them. Slowly moving down toward the sea. Toward us.
Ranks?
“Ido, those are soldiers!” The sudden understanding wrenched me out of the energy world. I squinted in the harsh sunlight and pitched forward, reeling from the abrupt loss of my dragon connection. “Soldiers, not villagers!”
Ido’s hands caught me. “I know. I should have realized sooner.” His eyes were clear amber: no silver threaded through them.
“We have to warn the others,” I said. “I have to find Kygo.” I hauled myself upright, lurching to one side on the soft sand. My senses were still half caught in the energy world.
Ido stood, blocking my way. “It’s too late, Eona. There is no way they’ll hold back that many soldiers. You and I will have to stop them.”
His words pulled me up. “With our power? Like you did at the palace?” I shook my head, as much to stop the sickening memory of burning, screaming soldiers as to refuse. “I can’t do that.”
“You saw what’s coming over the hill. We are totally outnumbered.”
He was right. I looked up at the quiet village, spread around the crescent cove. In a few minutes it would be a battleground.
“I can’t kill