Free Eona by Alison Goodman

jumped the last few steps and landed heavily, still unused to the mobility of my healed body. Kinra’s determination was thrumming in my mind, driving me toward the battle. Ryko and Dela clattered down the steps behind me.
    â€œEona, wait,” Dela pleaded.
    I ducked away, fighting a wild urge to raise my swords against them.
    â€œDon’t go out there!” It was the innkeeper at the back door, his face a pale blur of fear. “Come this way, sir. Quick, I have a place to hide.” He grabbed Dela’s arm and pulled her toward the stable yard.
    The red flags across the front doorway hung limp in the heavy predawn air, obscuring my view of the battle. Although the sounds of combat were close by, Kinra’s experience told me the heart of the struggle was farther across the courtyard. With a deep breath, I slashed through the flags into the first brightening of dawn.
    For a moment, all I saw was mayhem: shadowy bodies strewn on the cobblestones, horses rearing, knots of men fighting. Around me, the clang of steel on steel and groans of effort were punctuated with the screams of frightened horses and injured men. The stench of blood and piss made me step back. Then Kinra’s knowledge surged through the swords and made sense of the melee. Kygo was on a horse in the center. He was not wearing armor, only the white mourning robe I had last seen on him at the palace, the heavy silk streaked with dirt and ominous sprays of dark blood. He did not even have a helmet— his long braid, glinting with jewels, swung from the back of his shaven head as he hacked at anything that moved. Scattered around him, four imperial guards were fighting off soldiers, forcing them away from the young emperor. For all of the uneven numbers, the guards were holding their own.
    My eyes were drawn to the pale luminescence at the base of Kygo’s throat—the Imperial Pearl, as big as a duck egg. Along with the hum in my head came a flash of sensual memory: my fingers stroking a man’s throat, stroking the pearl, its smooth beauty sewn into the hollow between his collarbones. I heard him moan with pleasure. Any minute now I would have my chance to rip the pearl from its moorings of skin and flesh. To rend its power from him.
    I gasped, breaking the thrall. They were not my fingers stroking the pearl, and not my emperor. Whose memory was this? Whose treason?
    There could be only one answer: Kinra. My ancestress.
    She had tried to steal the Imperial Pearl. The shock loosened my grip on the swords. For a moment, I considered dropping them—the weapons of a traitor!—but the impulse was lost in the hum of their power, and the certainty that I could not disarm Kygo without them.
    Behind me, Dela and Ryko burst from the lodging house. Their arrival caught the attention of the nearest guard, who was fighting off three soldiers. I remembered the man’s lean, deeply lined face from the palace: Ryko’s friend, the Captain of the Imperial Guard. He parried a vicious slice with one sword, swinging the other to meet a low sweep from his right. He outclassed his opponents, but he was tiring fast.
    â€œRyko!” he yelled. A sword connected with his metal breastplate. He staggered backward.
    Ryko charged at the closest attacker and swung his heavy blade down like an ax on the soldier’s helmet. The man buckled to the ground, his sword skittering across the cobblestones toward us. With frightening speed, Ryko jumped over the slumped body and slammed his hilt into the face of the next fighter.
    Dela cursed under her breath and grabbed the fallen soldier’s sword.
    â€œEona, get back inside,” she ordered, and ran after Ryko.
    But I did not move; Kinra’s ancient energy was pounding through me. My eyes found Kygo again and tracked the pearl at his throat as he ducked and swung at the men on the ground. Kinra wanted the pearl. It was her calling. Her destiny. Her right.
    We had to take the