Sethon gasped, his body lifting into one last thrash. The pearl rolled and settled into the hollow of his throat as the foul stink of his death release filled the air. I yanked one blade free, the man’s dead weight rising with the force and dropping back onto the platform. Swallowing my gorge, I sliced around the stitches and ripped the pearl free. Kinra’s swords had finally fulfilled their mission.

  I opened my hand. The Imperial Pearl was heavy and hot— too hot to be holding just the last of Sethon’s body heat.

  Ido wrenched the long knife out of Sethon’s palm and wiped the wet blade on his trouser leg. “That was almost as satisfying as I thought it would be.” He looked up at me, one eye squinting in censure. “Although somewhat prematurely ended.” He slid the cleaned knife into the side of his boot. “So where’s the folio?”

  He followed my gaze across the platform. Kygo and Dela had killed or driven away the remaining guards and were now trying to scoop the black book from the ground, dodging the whip of white pearls. Dela held her ripped shirt like a net, ready to throw it over the writhing rope of gems. Behind her, Tozay sat slumped, his arm at an awkward angle. It was clear he was hurt. The dark shape of High Lord Tuy lay nearby. At least both brothers were dead.

  “Kygo has the folio,” I said. “We can—”

  Suddenly I could not speak. My senses were lost in a shock wave of pain that blasted every pathway within me. Kinra’s sword dropped from my grip. My other hand convulsed around the pearl, the gold claw setting slicing into my palm. Through a gray haze, I saw Ido strain backward, his mouth open in a scream, but I could hear only the howl of loss in my own head. The air pressed down around us, then exploded outward. Two huge dragon bodies—red and blue—boomed onto the plain, the backlash of energy knocking me to my knees.

  The massive crimson body of the Mirror Dragon—twice the size of the male dragons—filled the eastern gap within the circle. She threw back her head and called, a high ululating sound that throbbed through her long throat. The gleaming fire of her red and orange scales rippled with every shift of muscle. Huge cartwheel eyes shut with effort as she closed the circle with her body and power. Beneath her chin, the gold pearl swelled and pulsed, the song within it soaring over the thrumming shriek of the eleven other dragon pearls.

  “Eona,” I whispered, but I knew she could no longer hear me. She was on the earthly plane, and our link was gone. Everything had been scooped out of me. I was hollowed, powerless, and I could not move with the raw pain of it.

  “No!” It was the husk of Ido’s voice, cracked and devastated.

  With a roar, his blue beast answered the red dragon’s call, delicate wings extending as one opal claw lifted and raked the air.

  I turned my head. All my bones had dried into stiff desolation. “Ido, I can’t call her.”

  Ido’s body was a knot of agony, his fists pressed into his forehead. “They’ve closed the circle.” Panting, he slowly raised his head and scanned the dragons. “We don’t have much time.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  DARK CLOUDS ROILED across the sky to form a circle above the twelve beasts on the ground. The still air shifted into a warm breeze that held the scent of sweet spices and salty sweat. And underneath it all was the dank piss-and-blood smell of battlefield death.

  I heard the pound of running feet. Kygo’s voice penetrated my pain.

  “Eona, are you hurt?” He crouched beside me. A long cut across his shoulder bled in thin streaks down his arm and chest. Dela and Tozay stood behind him, both of them bloodied. Dela held the writhing bundle of shirt and folio.

  “My dragon is gone, Kygo,” I rasped. “My dragon is gone.” “No, Eona, she is here before us,” he said. “I can see her in the circle.”

  I balled my fists against my chest, rocking with pain. “She has gone from me.” My voice rose into a sob. “I have no link with her anymore. No power.”

  He curled his arm around me. I leaned into him, and the cold ache within me eased a little against his warmth.

  “Tozay!”

  Dela’s cry raised my head. I saw the general sway on his feet, his weathered face paling into a sickly yellow. Dela dropped the folio bundle and caught him, his solid weight straining her arms and bared torso. There was a nasty gash across Tozay’s temple that was still bleeding, and his sword arm hung useless— broken, from the look of it. But I could not heal him. I could not heal anyone ever again.

  “He doesn’t look good.” Kygo rose to help.

  “He took a bad blow to the head,” Dela said as they carefully helped Tozay sit on the platform. His normally sharp eyes were unfocused, his breathing short and hard. “He should be all right. Just dazed for a while.” Dela gently pressed his head between his knees.

  Kygo crouched beside me again. “Did you get the pearl, Eona?”

  I opened my trembling hand. The opaque surface shimmered and flicked as if tiny fish teemed beneath its surface. He picked it up between thumb and forefinger, the loss on his face echoing the ache in my own spirit. He, too, was giving up something: the sacred symbol of his sovereignty.

  “How do you renew the dragons with it?” he asked.

  Ido stirred. “Renew the dragons?” Slowly, he sat back on his heels and cocked his head at me. “Am I missing something here, Eona? What about our plan?”

  Kygo stiffened at the Dragoneye’s tone.

  “We never had a plan, Ido,” I said, meeting his stare with my own. “The ancients stole the Imperial Pearl from the dragons. It is their egg. We have to give it back. We have to let them renew their power.”

  Ido looked sideways at me, the amber eyes hooded. “I know we stole it. I have always known.”

  I gaped at him. “What do you mean?” Indignation pulled me up onto my feet. Both Ido and Kygo stood, too, ranged on each side of me in silent antagonism.

  “I’ve read the black folio,” Ido said. “I know what the pearl is and what it does.” He crossed his arms. “The theft changes nothing.”

  “It changes everything,” I said. “How could you know all this and still ignore your dragon’s need? His hope?”

  “No doubt in the same way as many Dragoneyes have before me. No one willingly gives up their own power when it can be the next Dragoneye’s problem.”

  “Not anymore, Ido. We are the last of our kind. We have to give the pearl back.”

  He shook his head. “You don’t understand. If they renew, we will lose our power forever.”

  “I know.” I felt a moment of bitter satisfaction. He was not the only one who knew the secrets of dragon lore. “But we still have to give the pearl back.”

  His gaze sharpened. “How do you know? Have you read the folio, too?”

  “No.” I wet my lips. “I went into my dragon. To escape Sethon’s torture.” Kygo’s fingers brushed my arm; a fleeting touch of consolation. “I saw memories from an ancestor.”

  Dela shifted; no doubt she had guessed which ancestor.

  Something flickered across the wary intensity in Ido’s face; a moment of empathy, or maybe it was just his own pain, remembered. He smiled thinly. “I thought you vowed you would never do that to your dragon. You keep drawing your moral lines, and you keep crossing them.” His eyes held mine, his voice lowering into a caress. “You and I are the same, Eona. We cross the lines that others dare not step over. Cross this last line with me.”

  He wanted the dragons’ power. He wanted everything. And he wanted me to take it with him.

  “I won’t destroy the dragons.”

  He jabbed his forefinger against his chest. “Do you want to feel like this for the rest of your life? As if everything important has been ripped out? Do you want to be nothing again? Because that is what will happen.”

  “Eona will never be nothing,” Kygo said. “She is my Naiso.”

  Ido snorted. “Why would she be your Naiso when she could be a god with me? It is still the same choice, Eona. Either we take all the power or we are left with nothing.” He held out his hand. His smile
drove itself into my very core. “You and I can take it all, Eona, together. It would be like the cyclone, a hundred times over. Forever.”

  Kygo gripped my shoulder. “If you think Eona would destroy the dragons and take my land, Ido, then you do not know her at all. We would both die a thousand times over before we would let you have anything you want.”

  I stared at Ido’s outstretched hand. The memory of the sea cabin—our bodies entwined and the glorious rising energy— held me still. All that power between us.

  Kygo glanced at me. “Eona?”

  I took a deep breath, fighting my way through the wash of sensation. With so much power, there could be nothing else. It would burn everything in its path. And every minute of every hour would hold the bud of distrust, just waiting to blossom into betrayal.

  “I am not the same as you, Ido,” I said. “I will not destroy the dragons.”

  Ido closed his hand into a fist. “You would choose to have no power with him when you could have all the power in the world with me?”

  I lifted my chin. “That is not the choice, Ido. I choose the dragons and the land. Not my own ambition. Or yours.”

  Beside me, Kygo smiled.

  Ido gave a low, harsh laugh. “The emperor and his Naiso, standing united.”

  Around us, the pitch of the humming pearls changed, the resonance vibrating through my ear bones.

  Ido spun on his heel, taking in the swaying dragons.

  “What is happening?” Kygo asked.

  “The dragons are preparing to lay down their pearls,” Ido said.

  I remembered what he had told me on the beach. Once the pearls were separated from the beasts, they could never reclaim them, and the String of Pearls could not be stopped. It was now either the dragons’ renewal or the land’s destruction.

  Ido faced me, his eyes narrowed with fury. “Your misguided loyalty has lost us both our power. All we can do now is avoid annihilation.” His eyes fixed on the white bundle in Dela’s tight grip. “Give me the folio.”

  Dela pulled back from his reaching hand. “I do not follow your orders.”

  He sucked a breath in between his teeth. “Listen to me, Eona. The Mirror Dragoneye is the only one who can direct the String of Pearls’ power to the dragons. Otherwise it will raze everything to the ground, including us.”

  “I have to direct it?” My voice cracked. “How?”

  “With the folio and the Righi.”

  I stared at him, my memory conjuring the blistering heat and terrible power of the ancient words. “But that’s the death chant.”

  “Isn’t that what Dillon used to kill all those soldiers?” Dela asked uneasily.

  “It not only destroys,” Ido said, “it creates. It holds the dragons’ Hua in the black folio so we can use their power. “

  “How do you know all this?” Kygo demanded.

  “I have been studying the String of Pearls for years. The Righi ignites the Imperial Pearl to start the renewal, and it will release the dragons’ Hua from the folio.”

  “The dragons’ Hua is in the folio?” Kygo echoed.

  I searched Ido’s face, trying to read beyond the fury that pinched his features into a snarl. I did not trust this turnaround. He was not one to back down so easily. But what could I do? Kinra’s memory had also told me the String of Pearls could not be stopped once the dragons had released their pearls into its power circle—but she had not told me that I had to invoke the Righi to release the dragons from the folio.

  I clasped Ido’s arm. He flinched under the dig of my grip. “Is that the truth? Is the Righi the only way for their renewal?”

  “Do you think I have a death wish because I cannot have you?” he sneered.

  I snatched my hand away.

  “You are not the woman I thought you were,” he said. “You do not have the steel to be a true queen.”

  “Well, you are exactly the man I thought you were,” I snapped.

  I hoped he could not see the bitter truth in my heart; some part of me had believed him when he’d said I had changed him. How could I have been so gullible? He was still the same ruthless, selfish Ido. I was the one who had changed, pulled into his world of power and possibility.

  Kygo shoved Ido’s shoulder. “Answer her! Is the Righi the only way to do this?”

  Ido stepped back, his body tightening into defense. “Yes.”

  He was telling the truth, and it dropped a hundredweight of dread through me. I had barely controlled the Righi against Dillon—now it had the force of renewal in it and the power of all the dragons to draw upon. May the gods protect us. And if they could not, at least I could protect Kygo.

  I dragged at his arm. “You have to get off the platform.” With a glance, I gathered Dela into my plea. “You too, Dela. Help Tozay. Get off the platform. You saw what happened to Dillon.”

  “I am not going anywhere,” Kygo said. He bent and picked up the sword I had dropped. Kinra’s sword.

  “Neither am I, Eona,” Dela said.

  “No, both of you must go. I don’t know if I can protect you.”

  Kygo shook his head. “I will not leave you alone with Lord Ido.”

  The Dragoneye circled on the spot, watching the dragons, his hands raking his hair.

  Kygo looked at Dela. “Take Tozay down to the lower steps. I want you both safe. That is my command.”

  Dela hesitated.

  “Go!”

  Dela bowed. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  She passed me the bundle. The rope of pearls writhed beneath the cloth, jabbing my hands. “Eona, please be careful,” she said. “I have already lost …” She tipped her head back, her throat jumping with the strain of grief. “Just be careful.”

  Together, she and Kygo hauled Tozay to his feet. He was still dazed, but he could walk. Dela took his weight and helped him limp to the edge of the platform. As she supported him down the first step, she looked back and pressed her fist against her chest. The warrior salute. I did not feel like a warrior. I felt terrified. I remembered Ryko in the palace alley telling me I had a warrior’s courage. He’d had such faith in me then. And he had died for that faith.

  I lifted my fist to my chest. For Ryko, and for Dela. With a nod, she turned and led Tozay down the steps.

  “What do I have to do?” I asked Ido.

  “Go up on the dais,” he said, nodding at the small raised stage. “It is the highest point, and once the Righi has ignited the Imperial Pearl, the Mirror Dragon will come for it.”

  I looked at the red dragon. Her huge eyes watched me. Kinra’s plea whispered in my mind: Make it right. I followed Ido across the platform to the dais, holding the squirming bundle away from my body. Kygo walked beside me.

  “You’ve got the Imperial Pearl?’ I asked.

  He opened his palm. The surface of the gem swarmed with silvery leaps and flicks. “It’s hot,” he said.

  I laid my fingers across the soft pale curve. It was now almost hot enough to burn.

  We stood together for a moment, the Imperial Pearl between our hands. “You are a queen to me,” Kygo said softly. He pressed his lips against my forehead.

  “Very touching,” Ido drawled. “Eona, get on the dais.”

  I gave him a sour look and stepped up on to the small stage. Kygo stationed himself nearby, sword angled at Ido.

  Beyond the circle of swaying dragons, the ragged remains of the two armies watched from a wary distance. The dark clouds above us had swamped the bright day, casting an early gloom over the plain. The air still swirled with the spicy scent of the dragons surrounding us, the heat as much from their earthly presence as from the hot wind that whipped my hair back.

  I took a deep breath and unwrapped the black folio, dropping the torn remnants of the shirt. The white pearls snapped straight up, as if they were testing the air, then planed across my hand and along my arm, dragging the folio behind them. Two quick, rattling coils and the book was bound to my arm. The folio’s acid words rose into my mind, burning my pathway
s, whispering their ancient power. Ido stood hunched before the dais, his arms wrapped around his body. No doubt he remembered the pain of the Righi too.

  “It is in my head,” I said. My mouth tasted like it was full of blood and ash.

  “Chant it,” Ido said.

  The words were waiting. Their bitter keen held the bound Hua of all twelve dragons, and the last cold echoes of Kinra. The chant quickened on my tongue and reached out to the beasts in the circle. It pulled the thrumming energy from their pearls and wove it into the blistering song that hissed from me with the fire of life and death.

  The dragons answered the chant with a shrieking chorus of their own. Through the terrible sound, the Rat Dragon bel-lowed urgently, the blue iridescent pearl beneath his chin pulsing with azure-tipped flame. His call silenced the other beasts. They all turned to watch as he lowered his huge wedge head and gently placed his barrel-sized gem on the ground between his opal claws. The separation of dragon and pearl shuddered through the folio and my chant; an ache of loss and hope that brought a sting of tears to my eyes. With a soft cry, the Rat Dragon nudged the sphere with his flared muzzle, rolling the source of his power and wisdom a length from his opal claws.

  I glanced across at Ido. He crouched in defeat as he watched his dragon give up the pearl that held their twelve-year bond.

  Next to the Rat Dragon, the purple Ox Dragon threw back his horned head and howled his own song of pain and hope. The soft lavender scales under his chin and around his pearl shimmered with violet flames. He lowered his head and gently dropped the pearl onto the ground, tapping it forward with a careful amethyst claw until it lightly touched the Rat Dragon’s blue pearl. As soon as it rocked into place, the green Tiger Dragon lifted his head and sang his own loss. One by one, the male dragons called to their bound spirits in the folio and placed their pearls on the ground.

  I felt every longing cry resonate through the folio until eleven enormous dragon pearls—alive with flicks of colored flame—lay side by side in a circle on the trampled earth around the platform.