Dreadgod (Cradle Book 11) (112)

How could it be possible?

Suriel had used herself as bait before, and the entire Court of Seven had shown themselves. Not only was the Phoenix vital to their organization, but this one in particular had a special place in the Court. She was a bridge between Ozriel and Makiel, as much as anyone could be. She promoted cooperation between the Judges, who traditionally operated independently within their areas of specialization.

So how could the rest of the Court allow Daruman to kill her?

When he discovered the answer, his eyes flashed a brighter red, and the light warped even the sturdy space around him. His servitors started to melt like candle-wax under the sun, and he wrestled that excess power to a halt.

Makiel, the Hound, saw this possibility when no one else did.

He would see Daruman’s attack coming. He would see the risk to Suriel, but he would judge it more likely that Daruman killed Ozriel in revenge. Six out of ten times, Ozriel died, and Suriel only died three out of ten.

Makiel would consider that an acceptable risk.

Investigating further, Daruman saw why. He saw the vision Makiel did.

If Ozriel and Suriel both lived, and the Abidan eventually regained control over their former systems, then Makiel would stand trial as Ozriel had done. Daruman saw the pleasing image of Makiel in chains while Suriel arbitrated over him.

He would be stripped of his Mantle and cast back to his home, to live out his days as a mortal.

If Ozriel died, then the Abidan couldn’t afford to lose Makiel as well. His crimes would be hidden forever. The Abidan would control many fewer worlds, but this Hound would rule over them for as long as he wished.

Daruman released his twisting of Fate and consulted Oth’kimeth.

“Is this worthy of a conqueror?” the Mad King asked himself.

There are always risks in conquest, but this promises glory befitting our name. Oth’kimeth spun out of Daruman, a hulking semi-physical form crowned in spikes of bone. No matter how it turns out, Judges will die.

Daruman could see that fact in this future, and it was as immutable as mathematics. If he followed this path, he would kill Judges.

It was the one prize he had been denied thus far. No matter that they had pierced deeper into Abidan than ever before; not a single Judge had fallen.

Now, in some possibilities he struck down Ozriel, and in others he killed Suriel. In some Daruman himself lived, and in some he died.

Died in glory, shaking the very pillars of heaven.

The Mad King spread his will to the millions of servitors inhabiting his chambers. “Prepare!” he ordered. “Once more, I ride to war.”

And this time, he would wet his sword with the blood of a Judge.





20





Everyone in the city of Moongrave had a very chaotic day, but Mercy thought hers deserved special mention.

Lindon’s Hollow Domain had shrouded her and everyone else in the tower where she’d been stationed from the Silent King’s attack, and she had been able to rally enough clear-headed sacred artists to mount an attack on their own defensive scripts.

She’d intended to wrestle control of Moongrave’s defenses away from the people controlled by the Silent King, but it turned out one of the Sages beat her to it.

Still, while she’d been fighting desperately and trying to save her family members all day—even saving Pride’s life once—that wasn’t unique to her. It had been a fight for survival for everyone in a hundred miles.

But not everyone could understand what happened when the Silent King was cornered. Not everyone had seen and understood the factors involved when Lindon had shot Blackflame through the Dreadgod’s head, then matched a blow from Northstrider.

Lindon.

Lindon had transported himself away immediately after, and while she wasn’t clear how he’d gotten away with that while standing in the middle of so many Monarchs, her mother and Northstrider had disappeared a moment later. Along with a transforming tree-woman that she thought was Emriss Silentborn.

She was confused by what she’d seen, but also disturbed.

Lindon knew what happened when the Dreadgods were pushed to the brink of death. And he knew that if one were successfully killed, not only would it draw the others, but they would all become stronger until the slain one was reborn.

But he’d done it anyway.

He put so many lives in danger.

Ever since she’d seen it, she felt like she’d swallowed a knife. Her gut was cut to ribbons. She couldn’t eat, and when she talked to others, she had to fake a smile. Aunt Charity was in recovery, and her mother hadn’t revealed herself since.

Until the night after.

Mercy had been sitting in the dark, pretending to cycle but really staring into nothing and letting her thoughts tear her apart. Then the shadows deepened, and she shot to her feet.

As she’d expected, her mother had called for her at last.

But Malice looked worse than Mercy had ever seen her. Her clothes were askew, she wasn’t wearing any jewelry, and she was slumped over in a chair she Forged from shadow, holding her head in her hands.

“Mother?”

“I’m sorry, Mercy,” Malice said quietly. “Today must have been…very difficult for you.”

The knife inside Mercy twisted. “What did Lindon…I mean, I know what he did. Why did he do that?”

She shook her head. “I should have seen it. I looked into the future, but Eithan Arelius blinded me before. He must have set this up all along.”