Eona Read Online Free Page B

fading life force of Ryko, the light within each power center guttering like a spent candle. From my earthbound body, I saw my own transparent hand, flowing with golden Hua , touching Ryko’s chest above his pale green heart point. Just like I had touched Ido. I focused all of my being into one thought: Heal .
    Then I was more than a dragon conduit.
    We were Hua .
    As one, we understood the massive physical injuries that were too heavy for the weakened life force. There was not much time; Ryko was near the spirit world. Our power sought the delicate pattern of life that repeated in tiny twists of complexity. We sang to them, a silent harmony of healing that wove golden threads of energy into each intricate braid, quickening the cycle of repair. We drew power from the earth, from the air, channeling it all into his body, knitting together damaged flesh and sinew, broken bone and spirit.
    â€œHoly gods,” the herbalist gasped from the corner of the room. “Look, his wounds are closing.”
    His words penetrated the song, breaking my concentration. The lapse shivered through my connection with the Mirror Dragon. I felt my mind-sight waver, my vision narrowing back into the limits of my earthly body. The flow of Hua faltered.
    Ryko wasn’t healed yet; there was still so much to do.
    I groped for a hold on the energy world, the thread of the song slipping from my clumsy grasp. I knew only one dragon command; the call of union. I screamed it out— Eona . Within the roar of my despair, I heard her song sharpen and hook my flailing focus, drawing me back into the golden melding of our Hua .
    Even as our joy rang out once more, an influx of sour energy buffeted our union. The ten dragons. We braced against their heavy pressure, caught between Ryko’s desperate need and their hammering power.
    If the song broke again, Ryko would die.
    We sang his healing, barely withstanding the savage energy that clawed at our connection. Around us, the ten bereft dragons shimmered into pale, howling outlines.
    The Rat Dragon suddenly reared from his corner, his tense pain replaced by sinuous speed. He rammed the opaque Ox Dragon beside him, then launched above us, sweeping in a circle that drove back the other advancing dragons. Deep inside we felt another voice, screaming with effort.
    Lord Ido.
    We recoiled from the acrid orange taste of his power, but this time he was not seeking control. He was defending us.
    The Rat Dragon reared again and met the wild energy of the ten bereft dragons. The roof of the fisher house exploded, raining wooden shingles and dust into the room. A beam plunged to the floor, crushing the Beseecher. The silvery flow of his Hua flickered and was gone.
    â€œGet out,” Tozay bellowed, dragging Vida toward the door. The herbalist scrambled up from the dead holy man and ran after them.
    Dela threw herself over Ryko, shielding him from the falling wreckage. Chunks of wood showered my earthly body, but there was no pain. Tozay pushed Vida into Solly’s arms.
    â€œGet away from the buildings,” he yelled, then turned back to Dela.
    With the roof gone, we were suddenly beyond the room in a dizzying embrace of dark sky. Through dragon eyes we saw the bright figures of Vida, Solly, and the herbalist clear the house and run for the village road. We rolled through the black thundering clouds, feeling brutal power slamming into us. Our claws connected, ripping and throwing dragon bodies. Beside us, the Rat Dragon blocked the Snake Dragon, the clash of Hua shearing off the edge of a cliff far below.
    Focus . It was Lord Ido’s mind-voice, piercing the frenzy. Block!
    How? I didn’t know how!
    My mind-sight plunged into the earthbound room—Tozay hauling Ryko upright—then lurched back into dragon-sight and the rolling battle across the sky. Below us, the sea was a boiling mass of energy, ramming tiny boats against the rocks and sweeping away a line of waterfront cottages. A