Eona - Alison Goodman [183]
“No!” I knocked it out of his reach with my forearm. The pearls heaved it across the dirt.
Ido scrabbled toward it again. “Eona, what are you doing?”
“Lord Ido, stop!” Kygo shouted.
Ryko grabbed Ido’s tunic and hauled him backward. The Dragoneye twisted around, punching the islander. “Eona, it is the only way,” he yelled. “Get the folio!”
I reached for the book, my hand hovering over the black leather binding and shifting pearls. Above me, Yuso drew his sword. The hissing release of the blade was loud in the sudden silence.
“Yuso, stand down!” Kygo roared.
The captain hesitated, then stepped back and lowered his sword.
I looked up at Kygo. “I promised you I would deliver the folio. It is yours.”
“What!” Ido lunged forward on his knees, but Ryko jerked him back. “Don’t be stupid, Eona! You are giving him our power.”
Gritting my teeth, I picked up the folio; I could feel the golden song of my dragon and the force of the blood ring like a shield within my Hua. Slowly, I worked the ring off my thumb and placed it on top of the squirming wrap of pearls.
“Be still,” I ordered. The rope quieted. Ryko sucked in a startled breath.
“Eona, please, no!” Ido struggled in the islander’s grip. “He will compel us. We will lose everything.”
Bowing on one knee, I held out the book and the ring in the cradle of my outstretched hands.
“Do not touch it, Your Majesty,” Yuso said.
Kygo dismissed the man’s counsel with a raised hand, but his eyes did not leave mine. “You are giving me your power? How do you know Lord Ido is not right?”
“You have always had my power, Kygo,” I said. “Now I am giving you my trust.”
He took the book and ring from my hands. “I know what this has cost you, Eona.”
I looked down at the spread of dark ash that marked the place where I had killed Dillon. The place where I had felt the true power of the black folio.
He could not possibly know the cost.
The girl placed the steaming washbowl on the table set against the tent wall and backed away, her eyes never lifting from the lush overlap of rugs. I wondered what she had been told about me. That I was dangerous? A demon killer? I leaned over the bowl and breathed in the damp heat, the outline of my mouth and eyes reflected against the dark blue fish painted into the porcelain. I scooped my hands in the hot water. Curls of pale red unraveled across the surface as heavier black specks spun and surged around my fingers. The twisting patterns of blood and ash transfixed me.
“Eona!” Dela crossed the soft rugs, a drying cloth in her hand. “Wash it off. Now! You will feel better.” She had already helped me out of my bloodied clothes and cleared them away as I dressed in a clean tunic and trousers. But I could still smell death.
I closed my eyes and splashed my face. The heat against my eyelids, my nose, my mouth was too much like the Righi. I straightened, the clamp of panic shortening my breath.
“Get me some cold water! Now!”
Dela motioned to the girl, who ran forward and picked up the bowl, carefully stepping with it to the tent doorway.
“Here.” Dela held out the cloth to me. I wiped my eyes and mouth. The rough beige cotton came away stained with pink.
“Nothing will ever make me feel better about Dillon,” I said.
“Ryko told me what he saw.” Dela’s face tightened with distaste. “That thing was not Dillon. Not anymore.”
“It was once Dillon.”
She clasped my arm. “He was probably in agony. You said yourself it was like hot acid in your head.”
“Dela, I took the folio’s power,” I whispered. “I used it to kill him. What have I become?”
She pulled me against her chest. I pressed my forehead into her muscular shoulder. “You are not Dillon,” she said briskly, rubbing my back. “Do not even think it. You did what you had to do. And you got His Majesty the folio.” She held me away from her for a moment, her dark eyes solemn. “You have restored Ryko’s faith, too.”
She folded me back against her shoulder.
“The folio is just death and destruction,” I said.
“Well, Yuso has it under guard