Dreadgod (Cradle Book 11) (110)

His eyes moved to Yerin and he gave a lazy, feline smile.

“Oh no, he called me a toy,” Yerin said in a flat voice. “I’m so angry that I’m stupid enough to hurl myself at a Monarch.” She slammed her sword back into its sheath.

Behind her, Lindon felt…silent. She was sure it was the effect of the Void Icon, but it almost made her shiver.

“I have not yet begun to take from you,” Lindon said quietly.

Then Yerin did shiver.

Reigan Shen raised his eyebrows. “Do you feel proud that you’ve alienated every possible ally before the other Dreadgods come for you?”

“What do you know of the Dreadgods?”

Dross whispered into Yerin’s mind. [Scary, isn’t he? We were practicing this on the way over in case he ran into a Monarch. When he felt you were under attack, I thought his heart was going to stop. Not that a heart attack would slow him down anymore. I feel like he could keep fighting if all he had left was a head.]

Yerin was too startled by the voice to pay attention to its message. Dross! You’re back!

[You know, I had this whole plan. I was going to pop out when you least expected it—well, that was my backup plan, I had another plan where I pretended to be the old me, then I shifted back…it doesn’t matter now. Anyway, I’m back!]

Little Blue gave a tinkling gasp and held out her arms.

[Awww, I want to come out…but Lindon’s having a stare-down with a Monarch. I wouldn’t want to interrupt.]

“Do you really want to have our grand battle now?” Reigan Shen had summoned a goblet full of wine from his apparently infinite supply and was gesturing with it. “When you have so much to lose?”

Lindon didn’t back down an inch. “Draw your weapon and find out.”

From Yerin’s shoulder, Little Blue stretched out her hands again and gave an insistent chirp.

[Awww, who can resist it when you ask so politely?]

Dross manifested next to Lindon and Little Blue dove onto him with a cheer. When she began chattering to him, his eye watered.

His body was entirely made-up and projected, so he didn’t have any tears, but Yerin thought the sentiment was worth it. She put her hand on the back of his head—he felt more solid than he ever had—and rubbed his scalp.

“Started to think we weren’t going to see this side of you again,” Yerin said.

With one tentacle, Dross wiped away a tear. [You two are the nicest to me, you know that? Well, except Mercy, but she’s nice to everybody. Where is Mercy?]

The strained tension between Lindon and the Monarch had grown somewhat awkward. Reigan Shen looked regally displeased.

“…apologies,” Lindon said eventually. “Why don’t you go prepare another ambush for me, since I won’t let you stall me long enough for the others to arrive.”

Reigan Shen sipped his wine. “This is hardly conduct befitting a Monarch.” Then he vanished.

“Monarch?” Yerin repeated. “You’re not—”

She scanned his spirit and froze. He wasn’t a Monarch, but she hadn’t felt the details of his spirit through whatever the Void Icon was doing to veil him.

“What are you?” she asked. Then she turned to see his eyes.

He scratched the side of his face uncertainly. The white circles of his eyes shifted here and there. “Apologies,” he said for a second time. “I didn’t expect the physical effects, or I’d have warned you.”

“I wasn’t after you for your eye color.” She levitated to kiss him, but after only an instant she pulled back again. “But it is just the eyes, right?”

[And the arm!] Dross said cheerily. [So far!]

Lindon rapped him with a knuckle. “That’s it.” He looked out over Redmoon Hall, who were shrinking back in fear. “We do need to go. The other Monarchs might be on their way.”

“Yeah,” Yerin said, “catch me up a step. Why are the Monarchs and Dreadgods after us?”

[We’d tell you if we could,] Dross said. [Although I’ve prepared a substitute presentation and three-act play that I think will give you as much of the general situation as I’m allowed to—]

“Oh, so it’s about the Monarchs letting the Dreadgods stick around. I’ll pass that to the others.”

Lindon looked gratifyingly surprised, but Dross deflated.

[Okay, that’s…sure. That’s just as much fun.]





19





Vroshir Homeworld: Tal’gullour





Daruman, the Mad King, stood silently in the center of his fortress Tal’gullour.

Though it was called a fortress, his home was larger than most habitable planets, with billions of souls living out their lives here, under his protection. He saw them only on his monitors, when he chose to look.

He couldn’t witness their lives for himself. Stepping out of his sealed chambers, even extending his senses beyond these walls, would condemn many of them to death. The weight of his existence was too much to bear.

Daruman’s chambers, therefore, were like a self-sufficient city of stone hallways. Complex workings or intricate machinery broke down around him, so there were no windows opening onto other worlds or robotic servants, but nonetheless he had everything he could require.