Dreadgod (Cradle Book 11) (18)

Ziel, Orthos, and Little Blue were nearby, but not aboard Windfall, so it was a surprise to sense that his home wasn’t empty. Lindon flew up and hopped off his Thousand-Mile Cloud to confront the unexpected guest.

Akura Pride.

The short Underlord crossed muscular arms over his chest and glared as Lindon landed. As though it were Lindon who was the intruder, and not Pride.

“What have you done?” Pride demanded.

“Apologies, but shouldn’t you be calling me Sage?”

Pride’s glare intensified, so Lindon relented. A little.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific,” Lindon said. “I’ve done many things.”

“So you have.” Pride jabbed two fingers in Lindon’s direction. “You’ve strengthened the Dreadgods somehow, and Mercy won’t tell me how. Now you’ve driven them all crazy.”

“It sounds like you already know what I’ve done.”

“What did you do to Mother?” Purple eyes blazed. “She’s ordered everyone to stay away from you.”

Lindon opened his mouth to point out that her prohibition obviously hadn’t done much if Pride was there in person, but he shut the words away unspoken. Pride could sense Lindon’s power, and he’d been warned away, but here he was as though daring Lindon to annihilate him.

That kind of bold stupidity grated on Lindon, but he could respect it.

“I can’t tell you.” Pride swelled up with a response, but Lindon held out a hand wearily. “I mean I cannot. I swore an oath to your mother.”

Pride looked him up and down. “So you did do something. You idiot.”

Lindon could literally kill Pride with a word. Strangely, he was less irritated now that he knew Pride would keep the same attitude no matter how advanced Lindon was.

“You had my sister’s favor,” Pride went on. “You had my mother’s favor. After you killed Sophara, we would have set you up as a king. You could have…” Pride cut himself off and took a deep breath. “You have rivals where you could have had allies. I want to know why. Are you trying to become the youngest Monarch in history?”

“It’s not about my advancement.” Lindon couldn’t talk about the connection between the Monarchs and the Dreadgods, on pain of violating his soul oath. But he could talk about the other reason Malice might be wary around him now.

“Did you see the battle in the heavens?” Lindon asked.

“I saw enough.” The sight of the battle would have been too much for an Underlord like Pride, but he wouldn’t admit that. And his family members would surely have told him the story anyway.

“That was Eithan,” Lindon said.

Pride snorted a laugh. When Lindon remained serious, he spoke. “Who was?”

Lindon remained quiet.

“In the black armor?”

Lindon continued looking into Akura eyes.

Pride grew paler and paler as he realized Lindon was telling the truth. “Oh.” Then he recovered and frowned again. “Did you know?”

“No.”

Pride nodded. “I see. Mother wants to keep Mercy away from you so she doesn’t join you when you ascend.”

“I’m not ascending yet,” Lindon said. “The Dreadgods are still here.”

“That’s admirable, I suppose. Aunt Charity says you’ve been helping with the relief effort.”

“That too.”

Pride muttered to himself, huffed, and stared off into the distance. After a few seconds, he turned back to Lindon. “You’re in a difficult position. I’m sorry.”

[He struggles within himself,] Dross whispered. [A man at war. An internal battlefield. This pleases me.]

“Would you like to come inside?” Lindon asked.

Pride inclined his head.

The tea Lindon served was brewed with leaves from Eithan’s garden. It was probably low-quality compared to what Pride was used to, but the Underlord didn’t complain. He also sat with perfect posture, his back straight as an iron rod, and placed the cup back down at the exact same angle every time.

Lindon resisted the urge to copy him. Pride had been trained in etiquette like this, but Lindon hadn’t, and Lindon wasn’t about to pretend.

He couldn’t help but feel that he was being rude, though.

There had been a little polite conversation while Lindon brewed and poured. It was hard to make small talk when there were so many other things Lindon could be doing, but this was important. Through Pride, he could learn the condition of the world and the attitudes of the Monarchs. Not to mention Mercy’s current fate.

Lindon and Pride were seated around a small table in the kitchen, and Dross drifted back carrying a tray of snacks.

Pride was the one to start the discussion in earnest. “Mercy says you helped with her Overlord revelation.”

“It didn’t take much. She was on the verge of advancement anyway.”

“Why do you think our mother didn’t do that?” Pride took a perfect sip of the tea, twisted the cup, and returned it to the tray with an oddly elaborate gesture.

“She suggested that your family values independent progress over speed,” Lindon said. “I can see the reasoning. With your Books, your eventual advancement is guaranteed up to a certain level. It’s more important to ensure that each step is stable, and that you have full mastery over the previous stage before you move up.”