Eona - Alison Goodman [52]
Dela’s hand covered her mouth. “Poor child.”
“If he doesn’t shut up, he’ll bring the whole army down on us,” Yuso said, even as Kygo caught Dillon by the shoulder and clapped his hand over the boy’s mouth, muffling his screams to muted shrieks. Yuso pushed me back a step. “Get to cover,” he ordered, then ran to help his emperor.
Ryko had already crawled over to the struggle and was dodging Dillon’s vicious kicks as he grabbed for the boy’s legs. Tiron looped Ju-Long’s reins over a nearby tree, obviously intending to join the fray.
“They’re going to hurt him,” I said.
Dela tugged my sleeve. “Come, we must get to safety.”
“No.” I broke free and ran toward the three men struggling to contain Dillon. My breath came in hard gasps, more from fear than from the desperate sprint. Dillon’s ruined mind would push him past surrender; he would force them to hurt him.
I ducked around the knot of men, trying to find a way to Dillon. Across his writhing body, Ryko’s eyes met mine in clear communication. Still insane. The moment of understanding was as brief as a heartbeat, but my spirit lifted. Perhaps all was not lost between us. And perhaps all was not lost for Dillon. I launched myself into a gap between Yuso and the emperor.
“Dillon, it’s me,” I yelled. My hand grazed the boy’s shoulder. “It’s Eona. Stop fighting.”
“I told you to get back,” Yuso snarled. “Tiron, get her to safety.”
The guard ran up behind me. I dodged and searched for another opening in the shift of straining, sweaty bodies.
Yuso had one of Dillon’s shins clasped to his chest, his other hand trying to catch the boy’s wild punches. A pale flash flicked up from the boy’s forearm—the rope of guardian pearls, its end curled back like a whip above the black folio. It lashed out at Kygo, but Yuso deflected it with his fist. With breathtaking speed, it flailed Yuso’s hand, lifting skin and blood. The guard recoiled, cursing. Ryko clamped down Dillon’s other leg and arm, and Kygo locked his arms around the boy’s chest, his own head craned back to avoid the pearls and the boy’s frenzied head-butts. With savage intensity, Dillon bucked against the brutal hold on his body.
I saw a chance and lunged across the tangle of arms and legs, grabbing the boy’s ragged queue. “Dillon! Stop!” I roared against his ear.
Abruptly, he stilled. With a last click, the rope of pearls collapsed onto the black folio, then slithered around it, binding it back to his left forearm. Dillon’s jaundiced eyes fixed on mine. “Eona, Eona, Eona,” he chanted. “What happened to Eon?” He gave a shrill giggle.
“For Shola’s sake, keep him quiet,” Yuso snapped at me. “Ryko, what’s coming?”
I stroked Dillon’s clammy cheek, hoping to calm him as Ryko gave his report.
“Twenty-four men, fan formation, with a local upfront. They’re tracking the boy. They were two arenas away at least when I picked him up, but they’re moving fast.”
Yuso stared down at Dillon. “Why are they after you, boy?”
Dillon giggled. “Why are they after you, boy?”
Yuso’s lean face darkened.
“They want the black folio,” I said quickly. “Sethon thinks it holds the key to a weapon made of all the dragon power.” Between the tightly coiled pearls, I could make out the twelve interconnected circles embossed on the leather cover: the symbol of the String of Pearls. “Lord Ido thinks so, too.”
“Black words,” Dillon muttered. “Black words. Inside me.”
“I remember this boy now,” Kygo said. “Lord Ido’s apprentice.” His eyes found mine, but I could not read his expression. “Another Dragoneye. How does he come to be here?”
Dillon’s eyes darted from me to the emperor. “My lord sent me,” he said. “He’s in my head. ‘Find Eona, find Eona, find Eona.’ Always in my head.”
“What does he mean?” Kygo asked me.
But I could not speak, silenced by an obvious truth. If Ido died, the only thing that stood between the bereft dragons and me was Dillon—a mind-sick apprentice as untrained as myself. There was no chance he could hold back the beasts. We would both die, torn apart by their grief. I fought for air