Dreadgod (Cradle Book 11) (35)

Now, the Titan pulled its fist free of the ice, caught the bolt of red light on the shell that covered its back like a stone shield, and flat-out ignored the sword-strike. Its tail was a blur of motion, catching a tiny figure that Mercy could see only as a speck, and in the same motion it stomped down with one foot.

A wall of chaos and golden light erupted from its footstep. A technique of furious power that would swallow the earth in a wave of devastation.

Malice summoned pulses of shadow that clashed against the expanding tide of earth madra, but the speck struck by the Dreadgod’s tail was rapidly growing larger. It was a sacred artist dressed in black-and-violet, holding a silver shield bigger than they were.

No, bigger than she was.

Mercy reacted instantly, Forging enough Strings of Shadow to form a massive spiderweb in an instant. Aunt Charity crashed into the sticky, elastic strands.

She tore through the first few layers, coming to a stop only feet from the wall of the Tower of Seven Moons. She lolled in the grasp of the Strings. The Heart Sage was covered in dust, her skin pale and her eyes unfocused.

The demon-faced shield she had carried since before Mercy was born had been broken. Its metal was warped, its face no longer animated, and it leaked life and madra in streams of silver-and-purple.

Mercy pulled the shield away. At first, she tried to pull it straight off Charity’s arm, but a sickening sound and a strangely soft sensation made her realize that Charity’s arm had been snapped beneath the shield.

It sickened her to think what would have happened if Aunt Charity hadn’t caught the Dreadgod’s blow on the shield. What if she had been hit directly?

“Mercy,” Charity asked, her voice faint. “What are you doing here?”

Mercy reassured her. “You’re at the Tower, Aunt Charity. You traveled…a long way.”

“You shouldn’t have caught me. Waste of madra. If I survived a blow from the Titan, I can survive the landing afterwards.”

Her words were stronger by the end, and she struggled up to sit in the grasp of the Strings of Shadow. With her one good hand, Charity reached into a shadow-shrouded void key, pulling out a pill that shone like a green star. She popped it into her mouth, and her arm knitted itself back together with a sickening crunch.

Charity didn’t make a single expression of pain. Mercy did her a favor and winced on her behalf.

“What’s the situation?” the Sage asked.

“The evacuation is almost complete, and the Seven Moons Sect is ready to activate their final defensive constructs. Uncle Justice says we have ten minutes. A little less now.”

As though her words had activated the script, rune-carved towers began to rise from the ground in every direction. Energy ran through them as they shone white, giving off energy almost comparable to the Titan.

But not quite.

“I have new orders,” Charity said, and now she sounded like her usual self. She stood and flexed her freshly healed arm. “We are abandoning the tower. Retreat to Moongrave.”

Mercy’s eyes widened, and she glanced back at the battle for another second before flinching and returning to Charity. “It’s that bad?”

“If this battle goes on much longer, we will be risking your mother’s life.”

Charity reached for her shield and saw the damage. Her fingers froze for a second, then she passed her silver sickle from one hand to the other. “Get back to the portal as soon as you deliver the message. The Titan is supposed to be the least intelligent of the Dreadgods, but I’m sensing—”

The Titan vanished.

It took a second for Mercy’s eyes to process. The impossible had just happened before her eyes. It was like a mountain disappearing, or the moon. She felt as she had when she’d looked outside and seen the stars winking out, though then at least she had her mother’s company.

A moment later, the Dreadgod reappeared, and it was right on top of them.

It must have still been a mile or more away, but as it blocked out the sun and loomed over the Tower of Seven Moons itself, Mercy felt like the Titan was only inches from her face.

Her weight tripled in an instant, stone cracked all around her, and she couldn’t catch a breath. Her spirit shuddered, and a black hand covered the sky as it reached out for them.

Charity seized Mercy’s robes and hurled her like a spear.

Mercy flew backward, the world a blur around her. Then she was swallowed by shadow. The sudden, absolute silence was as painful to the ear as the constant thunder had been a moment before.

She emerged seconds later, tumbling onto a surface of condensed cloud madra. She slammed into a running figure and was immediately trampled by dozens more, a chaotic forest of stomping feet.

That sort of damage was a trivial inconvenience to an Overlady. She rose to her feet and sent the people around her sprawling, but she was beyond caring about them for the moment.

Mercy stood at the center of a crowd of tens of thousands, all barreling out of a sky-high pillar of darkness. The portal between Moongrave and the Tower.

The sky above her was the familiar shrouded gray of the Akura capital city, and she was surrounded by a skyline of glorious dark buildings.

But she had eyes only for the pillar.

She needed to see Charity come through. She needed it.

Or, hopeless or not, Mercy was going back inside.

One of the Heralds flew through next, followed by a Sage.