Eona - Alison Goodman [4]
“We can’t leave him,” I said.
The big islander had fought so hard to stop Lord Ido from seizing my dragon power. Even after he was so badly wounded, he had led us out of the captured palace to the safety of the resistance. No, we could not leave Ryko. But we could not move him, either.
Dela wrapped her arms around her thin body, cradling her despair. Without the formal court makeup, her angular features tipped more to the masculine, although her dark eyes held a woman’s pain—a woman forced to choose between love and duty. I had never loved with such devotion. From what I had seen, it brought only suffering.
“We have to go,” she finally said. “You can’t stay here, it’s too dangerous. And we must find the Pearl Emperor. Without your power, he will not defeat Sethon.”
My power—inherited through the female bloodline, the only hereditary Dragoneye power in the circle of twelve. So much was expected of it, and yet I still had no training. No control. I stroked the small red folio bound against my arm by its living rope of black pearls. The gems stirred at my touch, clicking softly into a tighter embrace. At least I had the journal of my Dragoneye ancestress, Kinra, to study. Every night, Dela tried to decipher some of its Woman Script, the secret written language of women. So far, progress had been slow—not only was the journal written in an ancient form of the script, but most of it was also in code. I hoped Dela would soon find the key and read about Kinra’s union with the Mirror Dragon. I needed a Dragoneye’s guidance and experience, even if it was only through an ancient journal. I also needed some counsel; if I put my power in the service of Kygo to help him take back his rightful throne, then wasn’t I breaking the Covenant of Service? The ancient agreement prohibited the use of dragon power for war.
Putting aside my misgivings, I said, “Did you see the imperial edict? Sethon is already calling himself Dragon Emperor, even though there are still nine days of Rightful Claim left.”
Dela nodded. “He has declared that both the old emperor’s sons are dead.” I heard the rise of doubt in her voice. “What if it is true?”
“It’s not,” I said quickly.
We had both seen High Lord Sethon murder his infant nephew as well as the child’s mother. But his other nephew, eighteen years old and true heir to the throne, had escaped. I had watched him ride away to safety with his Imperial Guard.
Dela chewed on her lip. “How can you be so sure the Pearl Emperor is still alive?”
I wasn’t sure, but the possibility that Sethon had found and killed Kygo was too terrible to contemplate. “We would have heard otherwise. Tozay’s spy network is extensive.”
“Even so,” Dela said, “they have not found his whereabouts. And Ryko . . .” She turned her head as if it was the wind that brought tears to her eyes.
Only Ryko knew where his fellow Imperial Guards had hidden the Pearl Emperor. Ever cautious, he had not shared the information. Now the blood fever had taken his mind.
“We could ask him again,” I said. “He may recognize us. I have heard that there is often a brief lucid time before . . .”
“Before death?” she ground out.
I met her grief with my own. “Yes.”
For a moment she stared at me, savage at my denial of hope, then bowed her head.
“We should go to him,” she said. “Tozay says it will not be long now.”
With one last look at the heavy clouds, I gathered up the front of my cumbersome skirt and climbed the path behind Dela, snatching a few moments of muted joy as I stretched into each strong, surefooted step.
The sturdy, weather-bleached fisher house had been our sanctuary for the past few days, its isolation and high vantage giving a clear view of any approach by sea or land. I paused to catch my breath at the top of the path and focused on the distant village. Small fishing boats were already heading out to sea, every one of them crewed by resistance with eyes sharp for Sethon’s warships.