Dreadgod (Cradle Book 11) (54)

If she had a Bloodforged Iron body like Lindon’s, she thought she might be invincible by now. But she liked her own Iron body just fine.

Alden Zaius was an Overlord with decades of experience, and he righted himself in midair immediately.

She appeared behind him in a flash of white.

Memories of the Uncrowned King tournament had been shared all over the world, and his faction had been one of the ones participating. He might have been there himself. He would certainly know about her Moonlight Bridge, and he did react immediately, sending a burst of force out from his Blood Shadow to push her back.

But knowing about it and being able to account for it in battle were two different things. Yerin’s black sword sliced through his Shadow before he pushed her back.

She tore a hole in his Blood Shadow. It would re-form, but it would take a second.

Yerin used the Moonlight Bridge again. This time, she appeared above him.

She punched him.

A shield appeared over his head, catching her fist. When that broke, there was a Forged spike of force madra. When that broke, he pushed out desperately with force madra.

That slowed her fist down for a fraction of a second before the punch caught him in the skull.

Alden slammed into the crater where the hill had once been, kicking up a cloud of dust.

His half-dispersed Blood Shadow was crawling together, but Yerin stole a chunk of it. She couldn’t yet Consume it like Lindon could, but Red Faith had given her pointers on drawing in blood essence. And the nature of a Blood Shadow was to find a new host.

When she pulled on it, the fraction of the Blood Shadow joined her spirit. Instead of satisfying her appetite, she felt a new spike of hunger.

Ruby knew that feeling. That meant it was working.

Yerin opened her soulspace and Little Blue stumbled out. She chirped a warning, mildly wary of the Blood Shadow being so close.

The spirit tugged on what looked like a white log, and a moment later the hunger spear followed her out of Yerin’s soul. Little Blue staggered under the awkward burden.

“Likely be easier if you were bigger,” Yerin pointed out. Lindon had said the same thing before they left, but it seemed Little Blue was attached to the first part of her name.

The Riverseed squeaked something that Yerin roughly translated to “I’ll do it myself.” She plunged the head of the spear into the remaining half of the Blood Shadow.

Blood madra flowed up the spear and into Blue’s arms. She shuddered, but maintained her grip on the weapon.

Yerin sat down next to her and patted her on the back with a finger. “Hang in there, Blue.”

Little Blue struggled as she absorbed more power. Her body even darkened, turning slightly purple. Finally, she could take no more and let the spear drop.

Yerin caught it and returned it to her soulspace. “Not so bad. You know how to cycle it?”

Little Blue chirped brightly, though she looked tired. Yerin propped the spirit up on her shoulder.

Then she looked out of the circle of devastation her battle had left to the remaining Redmoon Hall members. “Left him alive,” she announced. Then she hefted Netherclaw. “So who’s up next?”





9





No matter how many times Lindon assured Mercy that she could speak normally inside his Hollow Domain—his authority prevented them from being overheard, and they could sense anyone close enough to eavesdrop—she continued to whisper.

“Lindon, you can’t be talking like that,” she assured him, barely louder than a breath. “Why would you want to…rob…my mother, anyway? Aren’t you on our side?”

There was a lot implicit in that question that Lindon couldn’t address, but he could at least answer her main concern.

“Apologies. I put it like that because I thought it would intrigue you. I think, if we get the plans to your Book of Eternal Night, then we can disable the protections that prevent you from accessing pages you can’t handle.”

Dross projected a picture into the air: hand-drawn notes and diagrams in Lindon’s handwriting.

“I destroyed these after Dross memorized them,” Lindon continued, “but they’re based on my analysis of Pride’s Book and what I’ve seen of yours. It’s not the inherent nature of the power itself that stops you from opening pages beyond your ability, which is what I’ve always assumed; in theory, you could have opened the seventh page as a Lowgold.”

Dross drifted into existence, staring at Mercy with an eye that was now a darker purple than hers. [You would have been reduced to less than a memory in an instant if you had. You want to see my rendition?]

Mercy shuddered. “That’s another good point. Won’t that kill me?”

“There are a lot of possible outcomes besides death,” Lindon hedged. “You’re an Overlady now, not a Lowgold. But anyway, the point isn’t to let you fight like a Herald now, it’s to advance you as soon as possible. All the potential power you need to make it to the peak of your stage is in the Book; if we can access it, you can make it to the peak of Overlord as fast as you can process the madra. Maybe by tonight.”

Lindon watched a war on Mercy’s face. She was clearly fighting concerns he knew nothing of, some of which he could guess, and others he couldn’t. She bit her lip, shifted her gaze, looked into his eyes, appeared to be about to say something, and then looked away again…all in the span of a second.