Eona - Alison Goodman [179]
“That is what a king does,” Tozay said flatly. “Your Majesty, if you attempt to go down there, I will stop you by force. Even if it means my execution.”
Kygo glared at him. “I am not my father, Tozay. I do not blindly hand over my trust and my military because I cannot face the realities of war. I am not afraid of fighting.”
I gasped. He would anger the gods with such disrespect.
Tozay drew himself up. “Your revered father was never afraid,” he said. “He was devoted to this land and he did not want to see it plunged into eternal warmongering. I thought his son was the same.”
“I am,” Kygo ground out. “To a certain point.”
“We are not at that point yet, Your Majesty. Believe me.”
Kygo turned and walked a few paces across the clearing as if working the frustration from his body. “Then at least take some of my blood.”
His blood.
I stared at his clenched hand, the glint of gold flaring into an idea. “Your ring,” I said, the hope pushing me toward him. “Does it really hold your blood?”
He swung around, the possibility aflame in his face. “Yes.” His voice lowered. “I told you the truth about that.”
I bit my lip.
“There is not much in it.” He measured a sliver between thumb and forefinger. “Will that be enough?”
I looked back at Ido. “Is it?”
“No one has ever seen the folio’s blood power work. I do not know,” Ido said.
Kygo twisted the ring from his finger. “Take it.”
For a moment, I thought he was just going to drop it into my hand, but then he pressed it against my palm, the metal holding his body heat. With an ache in my throat, I remembered the last time he had pushed the ring into my hand. It had been his way of protecting me. Now it was his way of taking more power.
Yuso volunteered to take me on his horse to the plain below—no one dared suggest I ride behind Ido—and the three of us spent the short journey down the escarpment in grim silence. What was there to say? Either Ido and I stopped Dillon or everyone died.
After helping me dismount, Yuso hoisted himself back into the saddle, his attention on Ido. The Dragoneye had walked out a few lengths across the grassland to watch the distant dust cloud. Sethon’s soldiers—both infantry and cavalry—had finally fallen back, leaving Dillon to his single-minded march toward us. Ido could now barely stand upright. No doubt Yuso was asking himself the same question that was on my mind: would the Dragoneye collapse before Dillon even arrived?
I passed Yuso the lead rope of Ido’s horse, the animal tossing its head against the sudden pull on its bridle.
“Is it true what you said about your ancestor’s swords?” Yuso said. “They have power, too?”
I stared up at him. What did that have to do with the ordeal ahead? Then I flushed—no doubt all the men had heard the painful revelations between myself, Kygo, and Ido. “Yes,” I said tightly. “What of it?”
“It is a wondrous thing.” He bowed and turned the horses. The bland response from the man was as strange as his question.
I turned from watching Yuso’s retreat back up the escarpment and, with a deep breath, walked across the grass to join Ido. He was transfixed by the lone figure on the horizon and did not mark my arrival. Suddenly, he doubled over, hands on thighs, as a bout of shivering racked his body. I closed my eyes against a surge of pain in my head; as it subsided, I squinted Dillon back into view.
The boy seemed a lot closer than before. Far too close for the brief time that had elapsed. I craned my head forward, trying to make sense of it, and fear crawled across my scalp. Dillon was moving at a speed that was not quite human.
“Ido, look how fast he’s moving,” I said.
“I know.” He straightened and sucked in a pained breath. “I think there is very little Dillon left now. He is all Gan Hua.”
I touched the blood ring on my thumb. “There are too many maybes in this plan,” I said. “Maybe the black folio will hold off the ten dragons. Maybe Dillon will have to get close to use the Righi. Maybe this ring will work.”
Ido turned his head, the long angle of his profile and his steady eyes reminding