Reaper(Cradle #10)(34)

“For now.”

Unwittingly, the Monarch had positioned them exactly where they needed to be. For they were instructed to return south, soon. To Sacred Valley.

Where they would inevitably find Yerin Arelius.

Red Faith nodded. “We will have leverage on her then. She will join us with gratitude, and it will be in her own best interests to support the research. Very well. We will wait.”

“As I said all along.”

Red Faith snorted, but allowed the Herald his hollow victory. At least they were unified now.

As they should have been all along.





7





It was Cassias’ habit to stroll the streets of the city every night after dinner. It was a pleasant way to cycle, helped him to get a sense for the city, and reassured his employees—who often started their work when the sun went down—that he was around and watching.

And, of course, Eithan had done this back when he was in charge.

He had very often shirked his normal responsibilities, but whenever he had been in the city, he had walked its length and breadth. He intervened in problems, no matter how minor, and made sure the Arelius presence was felt.

Cassias didn’t have Eithan’s talent in using their bloodline legacy, but he was still an Arelius. He saw more than anyone else could.

So he stepped aside gracefully as Eithan plummeted from a rooftop above him.

The Archlord landed gently, as though he’d merely stepped off a stoop, but he still clicked his tongue in disappointment.

“Were you trying to land on me?” Cassias asked.

“I was going to land on your shoulders. Then I was going to make a joke about how it was your turn to hold me up, but now it’s dead.”

“That doesn’t sound like a very good joke.”

“Well, the moment’s gone, isn’t it? You ruined it.”

Despite his words, the smile on Eithan’s face looked more genuine than usual. He took a deep breath of the cool night air as he spread sapphire sleeves wide.

“You ever have a night when you’re just glad you don’t have to fight to the death?” Eithan asked.

“Yes. Every night.”

“Every night? Really? What do you do if you’re not fighting for your life?”

“Literally anything else.”

“Huh. Well, sometimes even I prefer not to have the pressure of the world on my shoulders.” Eithan looked at Cassias’ shoulders and sighed in regret, no doubt thinking of the missed opportunity for his joke.

Cassias glimpsed something in the strands of power constantly radiated by his bloodline, and looked off to his left. Two streets over, someone was creeping along an alleyway outside a restaurant. A quick scan showed that their spirit was veiled. A robber?

They were walking away from the restaurant, but there were houses that way. Cassias was about to leap over the house and confront the sneaking man when Eithan manifested a ball of madra between his fingers. A tiny Striker technique.

He closed one eye, aimed for a moment, and then hurled it into the sky.

It came down on the same man Cassias had been watching, driving into the man’s spirit and tearing through his veil. He yelped. An employee of the restaurant came out furious while wiping hands on her apron.

“Thief?” Cassias asked.

“He dined without paying.” Eithan shook his fist at the sky in mock outrage. “Not in my town!”

Then he strode down the street, whistling.

They didn’t foil any more crimes that night, though Eithan shouted encouragement to a girl trying to work up the courage to dance, then led Cassias up to a bird’s nest on top of a chimney. Cassias had expected them to be dreadbeasts or hostile sacred crows or something, but no, Eithan had just wanted to show him some sparkly eggshells.

Eithan then climbed to the top of the highest tower around—if you could call soaring from floor to floor with one tap of the foot “climbing”—and trusted Cassias to follow.

With a lot of grumbling and much more physical exertion, Cassias eventually made it up.

He found Eithan sitting on the edge of the roof, staring out into the night. Usually, his hair would be blowing in the breeze, and Cassias was glad he’d seen sense and kept it short. Long hair could be a liability in combat.

Although Cassias reflected on that as he sat down by Eithan. That was true in combat between Golds, but Eithan was an Archlord now. How could an opponent getting a grip on his hair possibly inconvenience him? And he couldn’t be blinded by it fluttering into his eyes.

“What a beautiful city,” Eithan sighed. “Then again, I’ve found that most cities are beautiful, if you have the right perspective.”

Cassias shook himself back to reality. He had just gotten distracted thinking about hair.

Eithan would be proud.

“I don’t often find you in a contemplative mood,” Cassias said. These days, he mostly didn’t find Eithan at all. The Archlord was in high demand.

“I contemplate all the time! Truly, my deep machinations make Monarchs and emperors tremble.”

He waited a beat, then added, “I am shocked that man on the third floor can eat so much fried meat at once. Truly shocked. It’s not his Iron body or anything, I think he’s just…very hungry.”

Cassias wasn’t paying attention to the man on the third floor of the tower, as he was studying Eithan. The Archlord had leaned back on his palms, his feet still dangling off the edge, and was now staring up at the stars with a small, content smile.