Dreadgod (Cradle Book 11) (68)

For a moment longer, Charity sank into the feeling of being comforted by a stronger, wiser figure. Someone who would make everything all right again. Her grandmother.

Then she called herself back to action. She was over a hundred and fifty years old, and it was time that she acted like it.

Charity pulled back from Malice, composed herself, and nodded to Lindon. “Release him from the consequences of his oath.”

“Orders, Charity? I thought we were closer than that.”

“Two stars left in the clan,” Charity pointed out. “Are you ready to make it one?”

Malice smirked. “How could I risk losing you? Of course I will do as you ask, though I think he could use a few more minutes to stew. Lingering on the brink of spiritual collapse can make one very…malleable.”

“There’s a Dreadgod coming that outmatched you yourself only days ago. We cannot leave a Sage indisposed.”

The Monarch looked displeased at the reminder of her loss, but she didn’t deny it. “A weapon is only valuable when it doesn’t turn in your hand. But I suppose you’re right, as usual.”

She focused her will on Lindon’s shivering form, and it was as though the dark sky trembled. “Be whole.”

Reality twisted as the principles of restoration returned the world to order. Charity herself had little talent in that direction, but Malice had honed her craft over the long years. Lindon’s muscles relaxed and his spirit untangled itself from the messy knot the oath had left. Even the sweat on his brow vanished, and she felt Dross returning to the depths of his spirit as well.

“There,” Malice said. She threw herself back down on the couch. “The remaining trauma is mental, which is more your field than mine. His will might be compromised, and it may even affect his future advancement, which would just be…tragic. But he should be in fighting shape when the Titan arrives.”

Charity gave the Monarch a crisp bow. “Thank you, grandmother.”

Then she started to leave.

“Are you forgetting something, Charity?” Malice called.

Charity stopped and took a deep breath. Then she spoke. “I swear to Akura Malice that I will not reveal the connection between the Dreadgods and the Monarchs to any uninformed parties without explicit permission.”

“Accepted.” The oath settled on Charity, and only her ironclad control over her own thoughts prevented her from picturing Lindon’s agony from a moment before.

“Oh, and don’t let Mercy remove the restrictions on her Book. One step at a time is the way to walk her Path.”

“Yes, grandmother.”

The scripts and constructs lit up the air over Malice again, and Charity felt the Monarch’s attention shift away from her like a cloud moving from overhead.

This time, Charity levitated Lindon and carried him with dignity until they exited the castle, at which point she transported them both through shadow. Him, she deposited into a guest house, with orders for the staff to care for him. Then she returned to her own home.

Where, once the doors were shut and the seals were activated, she held her head in her hands and trembled.

Charity had trained hard as a child, reaching Archlord relatively young and Sage not long after. Her ambition had come from her belief. Charity believed in the philosophy of the Akura clan. The world was harsh, and they had to be harsher…but all to carry a greater burden, so that humanity could thrive beneath them. If the world was as the beasts wanted it, humans would be returned to isolated tribes, to live or die as fate took them.

She had been satisfied with her position. Others in the clan had advanced to Sage and ascended, their ambitions too grand for this world. Not her. She honed her skill and the powers she had, and never sought Monarch.

There would be a temporary advantage to advancing to Monarch, but then she would be forced to ascend. To keep the balance. A balance that she had always assumed was political in nature.

If one faction had two Monarchs, the others would unite against them, and they’d be two against six. It had always made sense.

All this time, the world she’d believed in had been a lie.

She wished she could talk to her father about it. He had fought with Malice on many occasions—usually verbally, but occasionally with techniques that shook the city. He only rarely told Charity what they were arguing about.

Now, she thought she understood. Leaving the Dreadgods alive when there was a method to defeat them wasn’t like Akura Fury at all. He would have preferred another Dread War.

But she couldn’t hear the explanation from him in person, and she hated that. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, she considered ascending.

Her family was gone anyway.

She’d never started a family of her own; she was more concerned about her own sacred arts and the clan as a whole. She hadn’t wanted anything tying her down. Now, for the moment, it felt like there was nothing keeping her here.

The Way was there. An endless blue ribbon behind the darkness of her madra.

The world twisted as she focused and reached out. Space cracked, and she saw a blue light beyond. Her father was past that sapphire wall, as were many other members of her family. By now, there might be more Akura clan members in the heavens than here in Cradle, though of course no one could send word back to confirm that.

Maybe she should go. She would be leaving the city of Moongrave weaker, but so what? Malice and the other Monarchs were the ones who allowed the Dreadgods to exist at all.