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 as if I was surfacing through oil.
We had to get Ido out of the palace, alive.
Yuso suddenly straightened, his dark eyes scanning the eerily quiet woodlands around us. “Your Majesty,” he said quietly. “We don’t have time to question this boy. We must move, now!”
“Not until we get the black book off him.” Kygo’s face held a new intensity. I had seen its like before, on Ido and my master: the burn of ambition.
Yuso’s jaw clenched, but he gave a curt nod and reached for the folio. The last two pearls lifted, like a snake’s head. He yanked back his hand. “Are they alive?”
“They have Gan Hua worked into them,” I said. “They’ll strike at anything that tries to move the folio.”
Even now, the negative energy woven into the pearls was nauseating me. No wonder Dillon was still so sick in mind and body; he did not have a chance between the book and the damage from the overdose of Sun Drug. Both Tiron and Ryko leaned away from Dillon’s arm.
“Your Majesty, we must move,” Yuso said.
Kygo’s jaw tightened. “All right. Leave the book where it is. The boy comes with us. Just keep him and the book safe.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Yuso fixed me with a hard stare. “You seem to be able to control him, Lady Dragoneye. Keep him quiet.”
At his nod, all the men loosened their grip on Dillon, allowing him on to his feet. He staggered, striking out weakly at their steadying hands until I hooked him into the circle of my arms. His thin body stank of fevered nights and driven days.
“You’ve got to stay with me and be quiet,” I said, holding him upright. “Do you understand?”
“He’s still in my mind,” Dillon whispered. I grabbed his fist as it arced toward his forehead. It was not going to be easy to keep him quiet — or alive.
With one last look at the tree line, Yuso herded us forward. “Go!”
I pulled Dillon into a stumbling run. A downrush of cold air from the heavens cut through the heat, chilling the sour sweat on my face and neck. The monsoon was coming. Yuso overtook us, joining Kygo a length or so ahead.
“Your Majesty, take Ryko and the others southeast,” the captain said, keeping pace beside the emperor. He looked up at the heavy mass of roiling clouds.
“Ride as long as you can, but don’t take any risks in the mud. I’ll lead the soldiers north, with Solly and Tiron.”
“Understood,” Kygo said.
He and Yuso drew away from us, intent on mobilizing the others. I squeezed Dillon’s bony hand, urging more speed. Dela was only thirty or so lengths away, frantically waving us in. Further back, Solly and Vida waited with the horses.
“Is that Lady Dela?” Dillon asked in such a normal voice that I slowed to stare at him. “Why is she dressed as a man?” For a moment, I saw the gentle Dillon I had once known— bewildered and lost — then he was gone again, bright madness back in his eyes. “My lord said he’d get out of my head. Why isn’t he out of my head?” His voice rose piteously. “Find Eona. Find Eona. Find Eona.”
I had heard Dillon call my name like that before. But when? The elusive memory hardened into an image: the dragon battle at the fisher village. Dillon screaming for me through the power of the Rat Dragon. Through Ido.
“Did Lord Ido send you to find me?”
“He’s in my head.”
Yuso and Kygo reached the thicket. I tugged Dillon into a sprint. A second gust of wind brought light pulsing across the dark clouds. For one heavy moment, time hung between hot earth and cold heaven, then the land shuddered under the sky’s roar. Dillon screamed, dragging at my hand. I looked over my shoulder. He was bent, as if the gods pressed him to the ground. Close behind us, Ryko and Tiron led Ju-Long in a tight hold between them, the horse blowing hard with fear.
With grim effort, I pulled Dillon into a run beside me. “Does Lord Ido want you to give me the black book?” I eyed the folio bound to his arm.
Dillon’s features sharpened. “It’s my book,” he panted. “It’s mine. Lord Ido can’t hold onto the dragon. They make him drink the black beast. All his power is draining away.” He giggled in tight, painful gasps. “It will be mine soon, then I can make him hurt. Just like he makes me hurt.”
Part of me hoped I was listening to the ravings of a ruined mind — yet I had seen my old friend in that moment of sanity. Although his words were feverish, they still rang with truth. Dillon knew that Lord Ido was losing hold of the Rat Dragon. And he knew he would soon have Ido’s power. I shuddered, pushing my coursing fear into a final burst of speed. We were almost there.
“Dillon, how sick is Lord Ido?” I tightened my grip on his damp hand. “We can’t let him die. Do you understand? We have to save him.”
“Save him?” Dillon’s glassy eyes narrowed. “No!” This time his fist was too quick. The crack of knuckles against his skull made me wince. “He hurts me.”
“I know, I know,” I soothed. “But we’re going to save him, so he can train us.”
“No!” Dillon shrieked. “I want him to die.”
He twisted in my grip like a wild dog fighting a noose. I stumbled after him, towed by his savage fury. Another blast of cold wind slammed into us, bringing the smell of sweet, wet grass. The piercing cricket song stopped, the sudden silence pounding in my ears. I looked up in time to see a claw of light rake the sky, then a booming shock surged over us.
“Eona, behind you!”
Kygo’s frantic voice swung me around to face the dense tree line at the far end of the slope.
A wide semicircle of soldiers had broken out of the woods, all carrying Ji, the hook-bladed pikes braced for attack. They were no more than one hundred lengths away and moving with wary speed. I heaved on Dillon’s hand, but he had dropped to his knees, a shrieking anchor. I felt the gusty wind flex into the heavier muscle of the monsoon, its brutal strength knocking me back a step and stealing my breath. Before me, the grass flattened and the trees bowed in obeisance as the gale brought the first drumming drops of rain. A panic of starlings burst out of the trees and spiraled upward, turning in a sharp arrow ahead of the wind. I gasped as the sudden rush of cool water streamed against my hair and face, its weight stinging my skin and scalp.