Eona - Alison Goodman [201]
I launched myself at Kygo, dread propelling me into a skidding, scrambling crawl. Was I too late?
Within the drum of my heartbeat another pressure was building. Familiar and chaotic—the ten bereft dragons. They were coming, called by the released pearl. Another terror shredded my breath: all twelve dragons would soon be together, and they would make the String of Pearls. If we did not direct their power into renewal, it would rip the land apart.
The searing rise of Ido’s power suddenly stopped. I looked over my shoulder, praying he had not fallen to a hunter. The Dragoneye was grappling with his guard, punching the man savagely in the ribs. The hunter broke away and drew a long knife from an ankle sheath. He lunged, but Ido caught his forearm and twisted it brutally against the elbow joint. The knife dropped.
A wail split the air, the desolation within it chilling me. Dela’s heart cry. Two guards held her back from Ryko’s body. Her face was a fearsome mask—all howling mouth and wild eyes. She punched and clawed, lurching toward Ryko with the berserk rage of grief. Taking advantage of the diversion, Tozay rammed into his guard’s legs. The man dropped to his knees, his sword swinging upward. With ruthless precision, Tozay grabbed the sword hilt and slammed the edge of the grip into the man’s chin, knocking him senseless.
“Lady Eona, do you need help?” he yelled, yanking the weapon from the man’s slack grasp.
“No. Help Dela.”
Raising the sword, he charged the two guards struggling to contain the Contraire.
I spread both hands on Kygo’s chest, feeling for his heartbeat through the sticky wash of blood. His eyes were shut and an ominous pallor bleached his skin. Be alive, I prayed. Be alive. A slow thud flipped under my fingertips: a heartbeat.
“Brother, get the black book,” Sethon yelled.
High Lord Tuy rose from his seat beside the dais. I cursed; I should have picked up the book. Without it, the dragons could not be released.
“Tozay!” I yelled. He broke away from his opponent and swung around. “Get the folio!”
He nodded, ducking a wild punch.
The flash of a blade drew my eyes back to Sethon. He had pulled Kinra’s other sword from the sheath slung on the back of the throne. Pausing for a moment to find his target, he leaped off the dais, straight for Ido. The pearl flapped obscenely at his throat, only half attached.
“Ido!” I screamed. The Dragoneye rolled away from the limp hunter and scrabbled up onto his feet, the bloodied longknife in his hand. I jabbed my finger at the oncoming danger. “Sethon!”
He backed up, tensing to meet Sethon’s running attack.
It was all I could do; I had to heal Kygo. His heart was barely beating.
With a desperate breath, I plunged into the celestial plane. The platform around me convulsed into iridescent energy, the bright colors stretching and breaking in frantic, jagged patterns. Under the bright flow of Hua in my hands, Kygo’s meridians were dark and stagnant, only a flicker of silver in each point of power. The Mirror Dragon shrieked, her massive crimson body above the platform. The golden pearl at her throat thrummed with an ancient song of renewal, its luminous surface pulsing with runs of gold flame. Higher in the sky, the blue dragon circled, his own pearl alive with blue fire. The approach of the other ten dragons pressed around us like a terrible weight, thickening the air.
I called the Mirror Dragon, and opened myself to her power, my heart’s plea joining her thrumming song. Heal him, please heal him. She shrieked again, the sound blending into the rushing power that roared through my pathways. Cinnamon flooded my mouth. Was this the last time I would taste the glorious spice of our union? The bittersweet thought rose through