Dreadgod (Cradle Book 11) (28)

Yerin expelled Netherclaw from her soulspace, the black-bladed sword sprouting out of her midsection as though out of a pool of water. She grabbed it by the hilt and tossed it aside, absorbing the construct instead.

Lindon suspected she could hold both the construct and the sword inside at the same time, but it would be better not to risk it, in case of a conflict.

Orthos absorbed his, and Ziel manifested his hammer before swallowing one into his spirit as well.

“I don’t expect these to be necessary—”

[I do,] Dross interrupted.

“—but if they are, they should negate the Silent King’s technique as soon as it’s placed.”

Ziel leaned on his hammer. “Of course, this is only an issue if we’re staying in this world.”

Once again, everyone looked to Lindon.

Yerin shrugged one shoulder. “Not saying I’m panting to leave this second, but…” She glanced at the ceiling. “…every step we waste is a step behind.”

Lindon hadn’t gotten to see much of Yerin since Eithan’s ascension, the Dreadgods having stolen most of their time. But in the few words they’d exchanged, she’d grumbled about Eithan stealing a march on them. And complained some more about him leading her to believe she’d finally caught up.

“I can’t ascend on my own yet,” Ziel said. “I can barely call myself an Archlord again, so I’m a long way from the peak.”

“You made your way back to Archlord?” Yerin asked. She swept her perception through him and her eyebrows raised. “Well, cheers and celebration! When did that happen?”

Ziel shrugged.

Orthos burped and shuffled over to the edge of the table closest to Lindon. “Are you going to bring your family with us?”

Little Blue picked an apple seed off the turtle’s head.

Every question twisted Lindon’s gut. If their ascension was anything like Fury’s, they could bring people along. And he was certain that he was powerful enough to leave Cradle, even if Yerin wasn’t.

But he didn’t want to leave yet.

“I think we ought to…wait a while,” he said. He had to choose his words carefully, or the oath would stop him mid-sentence. Even thinking about dropping a hint had his mouth seizing up. “I want to leave when we’ve reached our limit. And I don’t want to leave the Dreadgods behind, if we can do something about them.”

“Can we?” Ziel asked. He eyed Lindon’s arm.

“Yes.”

Lindon expected Ziel to sigh at the prospect of battling the Dreadgods again, to grit his teeth, or to suppress a tremble of fear. To show some sign of dread. Ziel had never looked forward to a difficult task, at least as long as Lindon had known him.

Instead, a light sparked to life deep within Ziel’s eyes. He loosened up his shoulders as his spirit stirred like a lion coiling itself to pounce.

“What’s the plan?” Ziel asked.

Lindon silently processed his answer. Then he said, “I made you all a promise in the labyrinth. I said that I wouldn’t leave you behind. I will hold up my end, but it is not a promise I can keep on my own. I need your help.”

He rolled a glowing blue marble in his hand and remembered Eithan. “You each have to walk your Path yourself.”

Orthos frowned. Ziel’s new resolve didn’t flicker. Yerin smiled slightly. Little Blue raised a fist in a cheer, but that cheer ended abruptly. Lindon felt the instant when she realized how difficult walking her own Path might be.

She finished her cheer, but it was much weaker.

Lindon stood and moved to the center of the room. The tall windows that took up most of the wall were behind him, showing the skies over Sacred Valley. Yerin sat on the couch, Ziel stood behind it, and Orthos and Little Blue waited on the table.

Dross floated nearer to Lindon, boneless arms undulating. Lindon nodded to him.

The glowing rune-lights on the ceiling darkened, leaving only the moonlight streaming in through the windows. Above Yerin’s head, a pile of treasure appeared: scales of every color heaped over natural treasures, all shining with madra and aura in a chaotic rainbow.

She surely knew it was just a projection from Dross, but she still waved a hand through it.

[We requested some information,] Dross whispered to the entire room. [How to get us ready to fight Dreadgods.]

A general “Ooooohhhh” passed through the room, and Little Blue applauded. Lindon wished Mercy was there.

[Yerin, you were our simplest target. I mean, experimental subject. Victim, if you will. Lindon was able to cheat his way to Archlord with his stolen arm, but for you, we need riches. And more still to advance you as a Herald.]

“The more raw materials we can find for you, the better,” Lindon said. “We don’t want to burn the Heart’s Gem, since it’s your most reliable source of blood aura, and we’ll need a sword source to match it.”

Yerin sank back into the couch and threw her elbows over the back. “Already have more to my name than I ever dreamed.”

“Yes, even the Monarchs aren’t likely to sponsor us with so much, especially on short notice. We will need to find another sponsor. Or, if they aren’t willing, we could find an…involuntary sponsor.”

[To rob blind,] Dross whispered.

Yerin brightened at the thought.

Her illusionary treasure vanished and another image appeared in front of Ziel. This time, instead of a pile of scales, it was an orb like a translucent gray pearl. Shining silver runes dotted its surface here and there, spinning rapidly.