Read Eona Online

Authors: Alison Goodman

Eona (45 page)

I looked over my shoulder. “Thank you for that consideration, Your Majesty.”

Wrapping my arms around my body, I walked steadily toward the battle-torn village, the huge blackened gouge in the hill above it like a long, deep scar.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CAIDO STEPPED BETWEEN
the two bodies sprawled across the narrow ridge above the beach. One man had no obvious marks on him, but his neck was bent at an ominous angle. The other had been stabbed in the heart, flies circling the knife embedded in his chest. A quiver of arrows was strapped across the man's back. Although I stood a few lengths away and the low light of dusk was approaching, I could see that their fletching was the same as on the arrow that had hit Ido.

“Yes, this is Jun, Your Majesty,” Caido said, staring at the knifed man. He shook his head. “I can't believe it. He has been with the resistance from the start.”

It was the young archer who had often guarded Ido. He had seemed loyal, but I had only spoken to him once or twice. Who knew what went on in the hearts of men? I certainly did not.

“Who is the other man?” Kygo asked.

“One of the village lookouts,” Yuso said. “All the other village sentries are dead, shot with the same arrows as those in the quiver. An efficient job.” He glanced at Caido questioningly.

Caido wiped his mouth. “Jun was our best bowman.” He looked across the beach to the boat where we had sheltered. “Good enough to make that shot with ease.” He sighed, the whole of his thin body lifting and falling with disillusion. “This is going to kill his father.”

Ryko stood from his crouched survey of the area. “It looks as if the sentry surprised Jun.” He pointed to a scuffed area behind two boulders. “The man got his knife home before Jun broke his neck.”

“What say you,
Naiso?”
Kygo asked. His eyes did not quite meet mine.

The emperor had ordered his
Naiso
to accompany him, and his
Naiso
had obeyed. But if Kygo had hoped Eona was also at his side, he was wrong. She was buried somewhere deep within me, numb and silent.

“Was he ever in the army, Caido?” I asked.

The resistance man nodded. “It is where he learned his bow skills. He had some funny stories to tell around the fire.” He cleared his throat. “I am sorry, Your Majesty, it is hard to reconcile the man and the deed.”

Kygo grunted. “I fear there is not much room for doubt. Still, question the prisoners for confirmation, Yuso. Maybe they saw him in their camp. ”

Yuso bowed, wincing slightly with pain. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Kygo glanced around the ridge again. “Leave his body for the scavengers and bring the villager back for burial.” He gestured to me. “Come,
Naiso.”

I followed him down the narrow track. One of the soldiers on the beach had sliced into the long muscle of his thigh. Vida had efficiently stitched it, along with Yuso's nasty shoulder gash and Dela's slashed face, but she had no herbs that dulled pain. Kygo did not show it in face or manner, but the cant of his shoulders told me the injury stabbed with every step. Or perhaps it was the burden of Jun's betrayal and the deaths of the fourteen villagers who had perished defending their young emperor.

The black ash on the track muffled our footsteps. All the foliage on the bushes and trees around us was dusted with it, too, and the once-white beach below us was now gray. The tide was coming in with the setting sun, the water washing clean curves of white sand as it surged and ebbed. Master Tozay's boat was due into harbor soon. The village fishing fleet had already returned, drawn back early by the sight of the fireball. The hollow-eyed shock of the men as they had landed on the beach and seen the damage to the higher sections of the village had briefly pierced even my numb armor.

“For such a young man, this Jun had extraordinary spying skills,” Kygo said. “He must have woven a dense web of lies.”

“In my experience, young men lie with great skill and ease,” I said dully.

Kygo stopped and faced me. “It was not a lie, Eona.”

I felt my gaze pulled to the pale shine of the pearl, half covered by his tunic collar. “What was it, then?”

“It was me leading my army in the best way I know how.” He pressed his fingers along his eye sockets, rubbing away the strain. “Yes, I want you to control Ido's power. But I swear it was never in my plan to ask you to break the Covenant and use the Mirror Dragon to kill. You and your dragon are our symbols of healing and renewal.” He crossed his arms. “And hope.”

“I did it to save you.” If I said it enough times, maybe it would make me feel better.

“I know. When I found out we were surrounded, my first thought was getting to you.” He reached out toward me but stopped, his hand dropping to his side. “You didn't push Ido away.”

The abrupt accusation broke through my protective shell. “What?”

His jaw tightened. “He was on top of you, and you didn't push him away.”

I flushed. “I had just killed hundreds of men with power that comes from my
Hua
. You cannot understand what that feels like—or what it takes from me.”

“But he can.” Kygo looked out across the water. “You and he are bound by power. Are you bound to him by anything else?” His voice was without inflection, as though the answer did not matter.

“What do you mean?” For a dizzying moment I thought he knew about the
Hua
of All Men. About the black folio.

He turned his head, his face a polite mask. “Do you desire Lord Ido?”

Relief—and uncertainty—made me hesitate a beat too long. “No!”

His look of disbelief was like a punch to my chest.

I stepped closer. “Kygo, you know Ido manipulates whenever he can. It is second nature to him. Please, do not let him come between us.” The pearl glowed within the edge of my vision.

“Every time you are alone with him, it feels like you are moving further from me,” Kygo whispered.

I shook my head in mute denial. He touched my face, the curve of his hand drawing me toward him. I closed my eyes and felt the soft press of his lips against mine. His hand shifted to the nape of my neck, guiding me closer against his mouth. I knew I should pull away—protect him—but I had to prove my certainty. To him. To me. We found the taste of each other at the same time; the sweet kiss forcing a soft sound of pleasure from him that shivered through my whole being. I laid my hands against his chest and felt the quick rhythm of his heart through the tunic.

He pulled me against his body, his hand at the small of my back, holding me against his hips. I shifted, trying to meld even closer to his warmth, his taste, his smell. His breath caught as I jarred his thigh wound. I started to move away, apologize, but he followed and captured my mouth again, his hand sliding around my waist and pulling me back into his embrace. A beat thundered through me, a pulsing, driving rhythm that was in my body—and, I realized, in the base of my skull. The pearl. I gave a shake of my head, trying to stop the pressure. The draw was not strong; I could contain it.

Kygo broke our kiss, the concern in his eyes holding back the desire. He'd misread the shake of my head. I brought my mouth to his again and felt him smile against my lips. The gentle press of his tongue parted my answering smile. His hand shifted from my nape to trace the curve of my throat and collarbone with exquisite slowness, his gentle touch leaving a path of pleasure across my skin.

He rested his forehead against my own, the rasp of his breaths echoing mine. His face was so close it was a blur, but I could still see the glow of the pearl between us. I slid my hand into the loosened cross-tie of his tunic, my fingers trailing across the flat muscle of his chest, toward the glowing prize. Toward the
Hua
of All Men. As my fingertips brushed the edge of the scar of stitches, he tilted his head back, eyes closed, the strong curve of his throat exposed. I could rip the pearl out now—

The pearl!
A cold wash of understanding broke through the thrumming in my head. I snatched my hand back. With all my strength, I pushed Kygo away.

He staggered back. “What are you doing?”

I groped for a way to stop the confusion in his eyes. A reason that was not the pearl. “It's the dragons.”

His confusion snapped into something more savage. “Is it? Or is it Ido?”

A sound from farther up the track wrenched us both around:

Yuso and Ryko, their guilty withdrawal making it obvious they had witnessed more than the last few moments. I turned and ran down the track toward the village, the muffled thud of my footsteps sending wisps of ash into the heavy air.

In the last of the daylight, Vida and I sat silently on the seawall and watched the arrival of Master Tozay's boat. It was an ocean junk with three lugsails, the horizontal bamboo battens across the sailcloth like the ribs of a folding fan. The white painted eyes on its prow—eerily lit by the lanterns on deck—stared at me with flat accusation. Silhouettes on board darted to and fro with the business of anchoring. I kept my gaze fixed on the three small figures at the front. Was one of them my mother, straining to see if I waited on the beach?

“Are you ready, my lady?” Vida asked, pushing herself off the low stone wall. “My father will want to turn on the high tide. The more distance we can put between us and the cyclone, the better.”

Was I ready? We had at least four days ahead on the boat as we rounded the Dragon's Belly—the large mass of land in the southeast—to reach the rendezvous in the east. Four days with a mother I had not seen for ten years, two powerful men who hated each other, and friends who did not trust me. I turned to watch the trail of lanterns heading up the east cliffs: the villagers were shifting their lives into the nearby caves. Weathering a deadly cyclone and a vengeful army in a network of dark, dank caverns seemed far less daunting than the boat journey ahead.

A splash brought my attention back to the junk. A small tender had been lowered over the side. Four figures climbed down a rope ladder into the vessel and pushed off, an oarsman pulling strongly toward shore. None of the silhouettes looked like a woman.

Kygo and Elder Rito stepped down on to the beach, the rest of our troop gathering behind them. Beyond them, two men shoved Lord Ido onto his knees in the sand. Kygo called Dela to him and gave her low-voiced instructions that sent her heading toward us. She trod heavily across the sand, part of the right side of her face bandaged; a sword had sliced her cheek open and taken off half her ear.

She bowed. “His Majesty commands the presence of his
Naiso.”

As she raised her head, I saw the mute apology in her eyes. For a moment I could not understand her guilt, then I remembered the small bathhouse betrayal orchestrated between her and Vida. It seemed distant and pale in comparison to what had happened on the beach.

I stood and gently squeezed her shoulder, feeling the tension in her body ease a notch. “How are you, Dela? Vida tells me it is a nasty wound.”

She touched the tight bandage. “It is not going to help my good looks.” Although trying for lightness, her tone rang hollow. With a quick glance behind us, she pushed something into my hand: the small leather pouch that held my ancestors' death plaques. “You should take these for now.” A shake of her head curbed my protest. “They are the only things your mother gave you. You should be carrying them when you meet. Show her you never forgot.” She leaned closer, her voice lowering. “Maybe she will know more about your ancestress.”

Reluctantly, I took the pouch and slid it into my tunic pocket. Wrapped in leather and hidden away, Kinra's plaque posed no real threat. Still, it made me uneasy to carry it.

Dela patted my hand. “Come. His Majesty is waiting and he is not happy.”

“I can imagine,” I muttered, and led the way back across the sand.

As we approached, Kygo's eyes stayed steadfastly on the approaching boat. Ido, however, kept his gaze on me. He had been bound again, this time with his hands behind his back and, judging by the awkward shifts of his shoulders, as painfully as possible—a deliberate show that Lord Ido and his power were still under the control of the Emperor. And perhaps Kygo was not above some private malice, too.

Forcing myself to ignore Ido, I bowed to Kygo, but he gave no flicker of acknowledgment. I took my position at his left shoulder. The tender bumped into the rise of the shore, and all four occupants vaulted out, grabbing the edges and pulling it on to the beach. The solid, stocky shape of Master Tozay strode across the sand, flanked by two other seamen. The fourth man stayed beside the beached boat.

Tozay's pace increased, pulling him away from his men.

Anxiously, he scanned the people behind us. I saw the moment he found Vida: his stern features softened, and his head bowed in relief, or maybe in a prayer of thanks. With a small nod to her, he continued toward us, his men at his side again. They dropped to their knees in the sand and bowed.

“Rise, Master Tozay,” Kygo said. “You are indeed welcome.”

Tozay sat back on his heels. “We were not sure what to expect, Your Majesty. We saw the fireball.”

“An opportunistic betrayal that Lady Eona and Lord Ido quashed,” Kygo said. “Together.” Beyond its surface meaning, the single word clearly had some other importance between the two men.

Tozay took in the Dragoneye's kneeling, bound constraint. “I see,” he said dryly. “And will Lord Ido require separate, lockable quarters, Your Majesty?”

“Yes,” Kygo said shortly.

I cleared my throat, the sound turning Kygo's face toward me, eyes narrowed. Did he think I was going to intercede on Ido's behalf?

“Is my mother on board, Master Tozay?” I asked quickly. “Is she all right?”

Tozay bobbed his head. “Your mother is well, Lady Eona. She awaits your arrival eagerly.” He glanced back at his ship. “If you please, Your Majesty, we must make a move if we are to sail on this high tide.”

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