Underlord (Cradle #6)(40)

He tipped the first bottle over a Heaven's Drop, spilling vivid blue water into the hovering construct.

Lindon, Yerin, and Orthos sat before Eithan in a lonely hollow amidst the darkened woods of the Night Wheel Valley. They hadn't sold any of their natural treasures in the camp, but had instead traded a few. They now had packages that exuded aura of many different aspects waiting for them nearby.

Mercy was next to them, but she didn't sit. She stood, toying with her staff, a complicated expression on her face.

The Spirit Well water fell into the construct and was absorbed, as though the energy drank it down. As the water vanished, the Heaven's Drop grew brighter and brighter, from a transparent and colorless gray-green to an almost blinding emerald. The scripted circles around the outside of the construct spun faster, until it spat out bolts of vivid green lightning.

Eithan stopped his pour precisely at that point, reserving the last of the water in the bottle.

“Orthos, if you would,” Eithan said. “Age deserves consideration.”

Orthos approached the Heaven's Drop, but not with the excitement Lindon had expected. Instead, the turtle felt resignation, almost fear. As though he had dreaded this day.

Other than when he was forced to fly, Orthos never showed this sort of apprehension. Lindon wanted to ask what was wrong, but the turtle snapped up the Heaven's Drop in an instant.

His madra began to swell almost immediately, growing more dense and potent by the second. Eithan had told them the effects would be quick, but in Lindon's experience, pills and elixirs always took time to cycle. Even the Spirit Well water worked best over time.

Eithan repeated the process with the second Heaven's Drop, emptying the first bottle and beginning on the second. When it shone like a green star and shot out lightning, he beckoned Yerin forward.

Yerin showed all the eagerness that Lindon had expected from Orthos; she couldn't swallow the construct and return to her seat fast enough, taking a cycling position.

While Eithan prepared the third construct, Lindon watched Yerin. He couldn't feel her spirit as clearly as he could his contracted sacred beast's, but he still sensed her growing stronger. In only seconds, her Goldsigns grew more solid and defined, as though they had been cast in real physical steel.

Then they slid back into her back.

More advanced Truegolds gained control over their Goldsigns, but the degree seemed to differ depending on the Goldsign itself. He hadn't imagined that she would be able to withdraw them like that, and seeing her without the sword-arms sticking out of her back felt incomplete. Like he was seeing her without her real arms.

A moment later, the Goldsigns reappeared...

Along with two more.

And two more.

Six arms of sword madra stuck out of her back, stretching farther until the ones on her left side almost stabbed Lindon. He shuffled out of the way, but she was only flexing them as she would her muscles, and had already pulled them back.

Her eyes were still closed in a cycling trance, but there was a gentle, content smile on her face. She looked warmer than she ever did. At peace.

There was another green flash, and Eithan called Mercy's name. Lindon recalled what he was doing and turned to watch Mercy.

...but as she faced down the construct crackling with green lightning, her face crumpled. “I can't,” she said. “I'm sorry.”

Eithan looked down at the flashing orb in front of him. “This is unfortunate timing.”

“I know. I'm sorry. I want to keep up with the rest of you, but...” She looked over to the east, where the massive castle took up the entire horizon. “I can't accept this. I would only have to admit my faults and return to my family, and my mother would shower me with resources like this. I can't take a treasure from you to preserve my pride.”

Eithan took a long look at her, then shrugged. “Suit yourself. Lindon?”

Lindon didn't move. “Apologies, but I'd rather Mercy have it.” That wasn't entirely true—he could find room between his cores for a second elixir easily—but he'd made his choice. “If you don't want to go back to your family, you shouldn't have to. Take it. We won't hold it against you.”

Mercy twisted uncomfortably. “It's a little more complicated than that.”

“I know what it's like to not want to return home.”

Eithan pointed to the glowing orb. “I'd really prefer you take this, and then we can debate the next one. This is losing energy by the second.” He added a couple of drops of Spirit Well water to it, sparking up its power again, but he was running low.

“It will be a waste if I take it,” Mercy said.

“That's all right with me,” Lindon responded.

Eithan watched them for another couple of seconds, then grabbed the construct. It hovered in the middle of his palm. “And the winner is...Lindon!”

He hurled it toward Lindon, who really had no choice but to take the crackling globe of energy himself. He swallowed it down, consoling himself with the knowledge that at least Mercy would have a chance with the last one.

Then he dropped into a cycling trance himself, watching the Heaven's Drop sink down between his cores.

[Now, that has a comforting glow to it,] Dross said. [Beautiful to watch. I'd like to keep one around, liven up the place.]

Lindon couldn't spare much concentration from siphoning the energy of the Drop into his channels, but he asked, Could you use one?