Dreadgod (Cradle Book 11) (19)

“That is my mother’s philosophy. Those who sprint tend to trip.” He gave Lindon a meaningful look, but Lindon bit into a kind of sugared cracker that Dross had found somewhere.

He hadn’t tripped so far.

“I came here to speak to you about your involvement with the Dreadgods,” Pride went on. “I didn’t know you were involved with the battle in the heavens too. That makes things even worse. My mother obviously thinks you can still be an asset, or she would have crushed you already, but she’s wary of you.”

“And Mercy isn’t allowed to come here and tell me herself?”

Pride’s hand stopped for a fraction of a second as he lifted a biscuit to his own mouth, then he continued unhurried. “That’s right. I’m delivering her message. But here’s a warning of my own. You can think of it as a request, if you like. Stop sprinting.”

“A bit late for that, don’t you think?”

“You’ll reach Monarch eventually, as long as no one kills you.” Pride’s lips twisted as though he found the words sour. “Even our Books don’t guarantee us Monarch. Don’t rush. Wait until the Dreadgods die down again, work with our family, and don’t provoke my mother. Live a long life, then ascend.”

Confused, Lindon examined Pride. “Pardon, but what do you want? Why are you telling me this?”

“Who else is going to?” Pride kicked the table, and tea sloshed over the sides of both cups. “Who do you think is going to tell the Void Sage what to do? No one’s going to say a word until the Monarchs see you as a threat, and then it’s too late! It might be too late already! You think the Rosegold Emperor is going to wait on the Dreadgods? I don’t want to see you—"

He caught himself and pinched the bridge of his nose. “—Mercy doesn’t want to see you hurt. And I don’t want to see my sister’s friends obliterated because they were being stupid. It’s a waste.”

Dross floated behind Pride’s head, chuckling in a disturbing tone and waving his arms in arcane patterns as Lindon weighed Pride’s words. He looked down at the table, where the tea had spilled.

A touch of red colored Pride’s cheek. “I apologize for that. I haven’t spilled tea since I was a child.”

“In recognition of our cooperation during the tournament, I won’t charge you for the tablecloth.”

Pride gave one silent laugh and relaxed an inch.

“We’re in a corner,” Lindon said softly. “Some if it is my fault, and some of it…isn’t.” Eithan had left them in a very awkward position, demonstrating world-shaking power and then vanishing. “I’ll do what I have to.”

“You can do whatever you wish. I have delivered my warning, and now you can live or die as you please.”

Lindon stood and pressed his fists together, bowing. “Gratitude.”

Pride nodded back.

“Mercy. Is she imprisoned, or is she only forbidden from coming here?”

“Everyone in the head family is forbidden from approaching you right now, Aunt Charity included. Mercy’s stuck in Moongrave, but she’s as busy as she’s ever been. The Dreadgods.”

“Then tell her we’ll be there soon.”

Pride’s head jerked back. “Don’t do anything to set my mother off, Lindon. I warned you.”

“I’ll try not to. But Mercy’s on my team.” Lindon didn’t put any particular emphasis on the words, but he met Pride’s eyes without backing down. “One way or another, I’m coming for her.”

Pride snorted. “Your team? Are you entering another tournament?”

“You can be on my team too, Pride. You’re invited.”

“No, thanks. I have a family. And so does Mercy.” He gave Lindon a crooked smile. “Thanks for the tea.”

An idea occurred to Lindon, but he wasn’t sure how to broach the subject politely. When Pride pulled out a blue gatestone and prepared to crush it, Lindon decided to just say it.

“Pardon, but would you mind letting me inspect your Book?”

Pride paused. He stood there with the gatestone in his hand for entirely too long.

“No,” he said flatly.

He moved to crush the stone, but stopped when Lindon held out a hand. “Apologies. I don’t mean to pry, I’m only trying to learn.”

“Learn about Mercy’s Book.”

“I am also academically interested. As a Soulsmith.”

Pride gave Lindon a look that called him an idiot, but he let the hand with the gatestone fall to his side. “You can scan it. Make it quick.”

A red-and-silver Book, wrapped in chains, manifested over Pride’s head. As a Divine Treasure, it resembled the Remnant of a large tome rather than a natural book.

Lindon wasted no time in thoroughly scanning the Book. Pride grimaced at the weight of Lindon’s spiritual perception, but kept his spine straight. Dross examined the structure of the Divine Treasure as eagerly as Lindon did.

After only a minute or two, Pride released the manifestation. “That’s enough. It’s uncomfortable enough having you stare at me for so long. I hate it.”

Lindon was disappointed, but he appreciated what he’d learned. He gave a shallow bow. “Gratitude. I know this is asking a lot, but I do have a few questions…”