Dreadgod (Cradle Book 11) (124)

He had barely started when Dross tapped him on the shoulder. [Look!]

Lindon took his time before turning around.

Yerin stood at the center of the steel island, and she flipped the dream scale once. Then she crushed it and used the madra to power a giant script that lit around her feet.

A recording of Emriss Silentborn’s voice echoed around them. “This action is restricted. If you do not have permission to operate the Dreamway, you will be punished to the full extent of the law.”

“Clear as springwater,” Yerin said.

Emriss had included a full list of the Dreamway’s capabilities in her assignment, but she hadn’t drawn attention to this one. Lindon and Dross had seen the possibility as well, but they weren’t allowed to say anything.

Of the four of them, the only one not bound by an oath of secrecy was Yerin. She had to realize the potential on her own.

Lindon felt like his heart would burst with pride.

[That was exhausting,] Dross complained. [Do you know how close I came to saying something?]

“Yes.”

[Wait. It doesn’t count if we don’t stop her, does it? No, it can’t.]

They hadn’t sworn not to prevent the truth from giving out through inaction, just from saying it themselves.

Yerin waited for the memory constructs to arrange themselves around her, ready to memorize her face and her every word.

“Guess this is going out to everybody,” Yerin said. “Huh.” She rubbed her chin. “Let’s cut straight to it, then.

“The Monarchs are letting the Dreadgods live. All the Monarchs have to do is ascend and the Dreadgods would go away, but they don’t. You’re all dying so the Monarchs can keep ruling over you. But that sun’s setting.”

Yerin extended her Goldsigns behind her so they caught the light. “The Silent King’s gone. Killed by the Void Sage, Wei Shi Lindon Arelius.”

Heat ran up into Lindon’s face. She hadn’t needed to say that.

“We’re coming for the rest of them. It’ll be a tough road, I’ll tell you true, but hang on tight. When it’s over, we’ll have no Dreadgods left. And that’s worth the fight.”

She thought for a moment before she shrugged. “Guess that’s the end of what I have to say.” Then she marched off the platform.





Not everyone in the world had access to the Dreamway. Outside Everwood, most couldn’t draw from it freely, and only received messages when Emriss went through the great expense of sending them. The factions that could be reached by such transmissions typically took responsibility for disseminating them to lesser organizations. They were usually the ruling powers of their territories. The Monarch factions.

Like the Akura clan.

Mercy didn’t know where the message was coming from; she only knew that her family was getting messages from Everwood by every channel possible. At first, she assumed they were related to the Silent King.

Then someone said Yerin’s name, and she found a messenger construct relay of her own.

Yerin’s speech flowed into Mercy’s memory as though she’d been there herself, but she stiffened in shock at the content.

Shock. Followed by confusion, dread, and the first sparks of anger.

Mercy spoke into the air. “What is this all about, Mother?”





22





In the starry world of the Soulforge, Lindon hammered his will into shape.

Genesis, his double-headed hammer, cracked down on the ball of dead matter that resembled a bundle of skeletal hands all clasping one another. With each blow of the hammer, Lindon drove in a silver rune from the Rune Queen and bound it with his intentions.

When the script was complete, it slowed the time inside the sphere to a crawl.

Lindon didn’t have the knowledge or experience to alter every single law of a pocket world. He couldn’t craft it to his exact specifications.

But he didn’t need to do that. Reigan Shen had done it for him.

Ziel stood with him, supplementing his will and providing detailed instructions on the operation of the ancient script. Without him, Lindon and Dross would have been forced to spend more valuable time simulating and practicing this operation.

“Will you be able to finish everything before the Dragon gets here?” Ziel asked.

“Pardon, but the Weeping Dragon isn’t coming here. It’s headed wherever I am, and I don’t intend to be here.” Lindon paused for a moment when he finished one line of script to take a breath. “And I don’t need to finish anything but this. In here, we’ll have plenty of time.”

Ziel shook his head. “I just can’t believe you did it.”

“That was the easy part.” Lindon returned to hammering. “They didn’t know what we were after, so their defenses were light. But we’re still missing the most critical component.”

Yerin stood at the entrance to the Soulforge and she gave one decisive nod.

Ziel sighed. “It would make more sense to do this after entering the time-locked pocket world. We don’t have forever.”

Lindon hammered the final silver sigil into place, and the web of scripts around the ball shone silver. The entire space was filled with a triumphant, radiant note.

“That’s why we’re going…” Lindon tossed the ball to Ziel. “…now.”