Bloodline (Cradle Book 9)

by Will Wight

  “Then I’m heading in.” Lindon started to walk for the gate, with Yerin at his side. He expected her to be laughing to herself.

  She wasn’t. She scowled like she couldn’t wait to punch a hole in this man’s chest.

  Sacred Valley really did not agree with her.

  Finally, something in the Iron snapped. “Don’t blame me for this!” he shouted to the Akura Golds.

  The Truegold at the front rolled his eyes.

  The Iron guard hauled back his spear and smacked Lindon’s cheek with the butt end.

  Wood cracked.

  It wasn’t a full-force blow, but the Iron hadn’t exactly held back either. If Lindon really had been an Unsouled, he would have faced a broken jaw at least.

  Old anger leaked out, but Lindon pushed it away. He couldn’t hurl an Iron into the sky for doing as he’d asked.

  He did, however, seize the spear. When the guard tried to pull it back with all his strength, Lindon’s hand didn’t budge an inch.

  With one thumb, Lindon snapped off one third of the spear’s shaft.

  “Tell the First Elder that Wei Shi Lindon is here to see him.”

  The guard abandoned his spear and ran through the half-open gates into the Wei clan, screaming for backup.

  Yerin thumped Lindon’s chest with the back of her fist. “Not certain I can take this. I was about to split him in half the long way.”

  “You were the one who told me to hold back.”

  “Easier to say it than do it.”

  Lindon stopped the Golds before they followed him through. “Stand by for now. We’ve made our show, so I want to meet with the elders first. I’ll call you when we need you.”

  The Truegold looked displeased, but bowed in acceptance nonetheless.

  When Lindon and Yerin walked through the gate, one of his suspicions was confirmed: the guard hadn’t sent word to the First Elder. He’d gathered the other guards, half a dozen Irons who surrounded them with weapons drawn. A security script in the street just inside the gate lit up, trapping Lindon and Yerin inside.

  Lindon felt crystal flasks in the ground drained of madra to power the script. From a quick glance at the runes, he felt certain it would block them from throwing any techniques out of the circle.

  At least, it was supposed to.

  The guards were shouting demands, but Lindon spoke quietly to Yerin. “We’ll have to show off some more.”

  He expected a rejoinder from her, but he heard only harsh breathing.

  When he looked to her, she was half bent over, her metallic crimson Goldsigns extended and sagging. She gripped her stomach with one hand as though her core was paining her, breathing harshly. It seemed like she was barely on her feet.

  He instantly abandoned his previous plan.

  Lindon drove his foot down and through the stone of the street, breaking the runes and the circle. The glowing script fuzzed and died, sending essence flying into the air like sparks.

  The Fox Dream Ruler technique settled onto the both of them, intending to disrupt the dream aura in their minds.

  [Wrong!] Dross shouted.

  The Irons all flinched back. One fell onto his backside.

  [I don’t want to judge you based on your treatment of dream madra, I really don’t, but if I did, I’d say you’re like monkeys doing carpentry. That is to say, you’re clumsy and very stupid.]

  The Wei clan Irons were familiar with spirits advanced enough to talk, but they had probably never seen one speak into their minds before. Lindon left Dross to it; he could subdue this entire crowd alone if they caused a problem.

  He was focused entirely on Yerin.

  Fortunately, the second the script broke, Yerin had taken a deep breath and straightened. “Whew. Wouldn’t try that again, if I get a wish.”

  “You can go back and rest, if you need to,” Lindon said.

  Yerin stretched her arms and Goldsigns. “Not sure I see what’s so shiny and bright about being a Herald. These days, it’s a bumpy path full of sharp rocks.”

  “Your madra was having enough trouble supporting your body in Sacred Valley at all.”

  Outside of Sacred Valley, she would have shrugged this off. It may have weakened her, if it had been powered by more than Iron-level madra, but it certainly wouldn’t have crippled her.

  Still, this was far more severe than it should have been. Lindon couldn’t imagine Fury unable to breathe because of a simple script.

  This was Lindon’s fault. He had been careless.

  He dipped his head. “Apolo—”

  “Nope,” she interrupted. “None of that. Time to get back to the job, true?”

  The ground still vibrated beneath them while Dross kept the guards distracted with insults. One of the Irons, a blocky red-faced man with an Enforcer badge, looked at Lindon strangely.

  “Shi Lindon?” he asked.

  Lindon had given his name at the gate, but there was recognition in the man’s voice. He looked closer at the face.

  He thought he saw traces of a boy from years ago. They came with several unpleasant memories.

  “Mon Teris?”

  As a boy, Lindon had found himself on the receiving end of Wei Mon Teris’ temper several times. Including the memorable occasion when Teris had abandoned him to fight the Remnant of an ancestral tree, which had ended with Lindon taking down Teris’ father with the Empty Palm.

  Lindon hadn’t thought of the Mon family in years.

  Teris’ expression was hard, but he looked from Lindon to the hole Lindon’s foot had made in the stone. “I’ll bring you to the First Elder. Come.”

  Lindon hesitated. The Mon family had never had any goodwill toward him, and the situation wouldn’t be improved now that he had returned from the dead more than three years later.

  Yerin nudged him with her elbow. “What’s to worry about?”

  [You should worry that he’s not about to lead you into a trap. Hey, if he does betray you, do you think you could slam him through a tree?]

  They had a point. Yerin did, at least. There was no point in doubting Wei Mon Teris.

  What could Teris do?

  What if there are more scripts like the last one? Lindon thought. He’d have to keep an eye out.

  “Lead the way, cousin,” Lindon said. He even attempted a smile, though it made Teris’ scowl deepen.

  Teris led Lindon down the main thoroughfare, the same street the Kazan and Li clans had marched through during the Seven-Year Festival so long ago. This time, the road trembled, and he saw very few people out and about.

  Those he did see scurried from place to place, many keeping their eyes on the aura beneath their feet. He sensed most people huddled inside.

  Everyone here was scared and on edge. He had to take that into account when they treated him like an enemy.

  But he could save them. The thought straightened his spine. He could protect them all.

  Teris turned off a smaller side street, and Lindon stopped. “Are we not going to the Hall of Elders?”

  “The First Elder isn’t there today. He’s consulting with the Eighth Elder about the earth aura.”

  Lindon brightened at that. If the clan still had the same Eighth Elder as before, he had watched over Lindon in the clan archive. Lindon looked forward to seeing him again. He suspected Eithan and the Eighth Elder would get along well.

  Teris marched on with no further explanation, but the tension was uncomfortable. When they left the main thoroughfare behind, they mostly passed isolated home complexes, most family homes surrounded by walls.

  Families in the Wei clan had lots of space, and Lindon found himself staring into the patches of long grass and purple-leafed orus trees between the compounds and feeling pangs of nostalgia as he recognized certain sights. Or failed to recognize others.

  Somewhere in this area was the Mon family home, and the thought gave Lindon an idea of how to push through the awkwardness. “Is your family well, cousin Teris?”

  Teris shot a glance back at
him. “Eri was accepted into the Holy Wind School. They say she’ll be Jade one day.”

  He said it with a somewhat challenging tone, but Lindon was strangely happy to hear it. Eri had disturbed him, but he was glad to hear she was doing well.

  Although the Holy Wind School was heading out of the valley already. Did Teris know that?

  If he didn’t, it wasn’t really any of Lindon’s business. At least Eri would be safer outside Sacred Valley than in it.

  “And your father?” Lindon asked. There were more members of the Mon family, but he didn’t know them well.

  “Fine.”

  [I’m sure he’s had a wonderful career as a warrior as long as he got over the humiliation of being defeated by a child.]

  Dross had fortunately spoken only to Lindon.

  They turned a corner to see a long grass path up a hill, to a walled compound that Lindon didn’t remember. Teris held out a hand toward it.

  “Is this the Eighth Elder’s home?” Lindon asked.

  “Did you forget?”

  Lindon had. He was sure he must have seen the Eighth Elder’s house as a child at some point, but he mostly saw the man at the library.

  Do you remember? Lindon asked Dross.

  [If you don’t remember, I don’t. Except for all the things I know that you don’t. And all my secret plans.]

  Lindon nodded, bracing himself, and walked toward the hill.

  White Fox madra lit up behind him, and he closed his eyes. So Teris was betraying him after all.

  He scanned thoroughly for scripts. There had to be more to this trap.

  “Who are you?” Teris demanded. “Did you teach him that Enforcer technique?”

  Slowly, Lindon turned around to see Teris holding a knife in front of Yerin.

  For about half a second.

  Then he was on the ground, his knife spinning off into the air, Yerin’s foot pushing his face into the grassy earth.

  Lindon understood his line of logic, if it could be called logic.

  From Teris’ perspective, Lindon was just Unsouled, so Yerin had to be the one in charge. And she had faltered in the script-circle earlier, so obviously something had weakened her. She must have been the one who had kept Lindon alive and taught him powerful new sacred arts, and now she was vulnerable.

  An easy target.

  Yerin’s foot pressed down on the back of Teris’ skull. “You’re a spineless pack of rotten rat leavings, aren’t you?”

  Teris thrashed, trying to free himself.

  [Can he breathe?] Dross wondered. [It doesn’t look like he can breathe.]

  Lindon crouched next to the Iron, speaking into his ear. “Do you feel the ground shaking?”

  The Iron’s scream was muffled by dirt.

  “That means we don’t have much time,” Lindon went on. “I don’t want to have to continually prove myself to everyone who sees my badge, so here’s what I would prefer. Would you like to be my guide?”

  Yerin eased up on his head, and Teris’ muddy face came up into a gasp. “Yes! Yes! I’ll do it!”

  “Gratitude. I would be grateful if you could lead me to the First Elder, and if anyone else stops us, you can explain to them what a bad idea that would be. Do you agree?”

  Teris nodded furiously.

  “Perfect.”

  Yerin moved her foot off, and Lindon pulled him to his feet. He helped brush dirt from Teris’ outer robe. “Now, where is the Elder?”

  Teris shakily pointed up the hill to the house right in front of them.

  “…really? He’s really in there?”

  “I told you, ah, this one told you, honored…guests. The First Elder is visiting the Eighth.”

  Yerin looked more offended now than when he’d pulled a weapon on her. “You pulled blades on us in bright sunlight ten steps from your clan elder’s house?”

  “Do not harm this one,” Teris pleaded, bowing in half. “This one has a little girl.”

  Yerin turned to Lindon. “Did you get the only spine in your whole clan?”

  Lindon wasn’t listening.

  “You have a daughter?” he asked.

  Teris’ eyes bounced around, but he answered warily, “This one is honored to have a daughter that will soon see her second year.”

  That was a bigger surprise to Lindon than when Teris had betrayed them. Teris was a year younger than Lindon himself.

  A girl of eleven or twelve peeked her head out of the gate and saw them, shouting back inside that there was a fight going on outside. Yerin slapped Teris on the back.

  “Your turn to guide.”

  Teris preceded them through the gate, and Lindon and Yerin followed. As soon as they crossed through the compound wall, Lindon knew something was wrong.

  The script around the outer wall had blocked his spiritual perception, which was already weaker here in Sacred Valley, so he hadn’t sensed much. But the outer courtyard of the Eighth Elder’s property was packed with people.

  Wei clan members wearing iron or copper badges milled around in small groups, chatting nervously. They all turned to watch Lindon and Yerin enter, but they didn’t seem too interested.

  As an Underlord, Lindon’s hearing was second only to Yerin’s. He caught snatches of conversation without trying.

  They were waiting for the decision of the elders.

  If it was just the Eighth Elder meeting with the First, there wouldn’t be so many people here. And they wouldn’t expect a unified clan decision.

  That was when Lindon recognized another familiar face.

  Wei Jin Amon’s hair was even longer and more luxurious than Lindon remembered. He stood proudly, a spear strapped to his back, and he reassured several Irons that his grandfather would sort things out.

  Lindon extended his perception into the main house.

  He didn’t scan anyone specifically, but he still felt the presence of Jades. At least ten, probably twelve or thirteen, close together in the same room.

  All the clan elders and the Patriarch were gathered together. Well, all the human elders. Elder Whisper was nowhere to be seen.

  Teris was passionately explaining that Yerin must be a Jade with no badge, but he stiffened as Lindon rested a hand on his shoulder.

  “Cousin Teris, did you know that all the elders were gathered?”

  Teris didn’t turn around, but he stammered an answer. “Th—this one didn’t know for sure.”

  “That’s perfect. Gratitude.”

  Lindon walked up to the outer house, where three guards waited for him. One of them was a gray-haired man with a jade badge: the Tenth Elder, the youngest and least of the clan’s ruling council.

  Finally. A Jade, at least, would be able to sense his power.

  Lindon pressed his fists together. “Honored Elder, my name is Wei Shi Lindon. I would like to address the elders about the shaking of the earth.”

  With that, he removed his veil.

  The elder looked from Lindon to Yerin suspiciously, then reached out with his own spiritual sense. The touch of his perception was slow and clumsy, like a numb hand groping in the dark.

  He held it on Lindon, scanning him for so long that the shivering sensation became somewhat uncomfortable, but his eyes widened with every second. He finally brushed it over Yerin, then bowed deeply over his fists pressed together.

  “You have benefited greatly from surviving the outside, young Shi Lindon, to have reached Jade at such a young age.”

  Those close enough to hear exclaimed, and even Teris stiffened. Amon’s head swiveled to stare at Lindon.

  “May I ask, what news have you come to bring us?”

  Lindon had prepared his words in advance. “The earthquakes are signs of a coming disaster. A mad beast powerful enough to destroy the entire valley. We bring help from outside, and a way to flee before the beast arrives.”

  Lindon couldn’t name the expression on the Tenth Elder’s face, but he bowed again. “That…is…difficult to hear, young Lindon. Come, present your case to the Pat
riarch.”

  As far as Lindon could recall, he’d never met the Tenth Elder. Elders tended to have better things to do than to meet with Unsouled. The First Elder was only an exception because he had taken something of a personal interest in Lindon from Lindon’s first madra test.

  The Tenth Elder led Lindon and Yerin past a network of hallways and a maze of curious, whispering people.

  “You fast friends with these elders?” Yerin asked.

  “There is one that I think will listen to me.”

  “If I had to take a blind stab, I’d say it’s not your Patriarch.”

  “He probably hates me.”

  The Patriarch of the Wei clan had only taken special notice of Lindon once. It had been when Lindon defied him, then cheated his grandson Amon out of a coveted position in the Heaven’s Glory School.

  If the Patriarch remembered Lindon for anything else, it would be disappearing and bringing down Heaven’s Glory on the Wei clan.

  [It’s too bad he doesn’t remember getting his heart ripped out,] Dross mentioned. [Wait. That did happen, right?]

  Yes, it did.

  The invader from outside the world had killed the Patriarch shortly before he’d torn Lindon in half. Lindon remembered it clearly.

  Dross gave a sigh of relief. [So that memory is real. I’d thought you said it was. Unless I remembered that wrong.]

  Since they’d found out that some of Lindon’s memories of Suriel had been protected, so Dross couldn’t view them accurately, Lindon had gone over every inch and let Dross know what was accurate and what wasn’t.

  But Dross continued to doubt. The knowledge that some of his own memories couldn’t be trusted had shaken him.

  The Tenth Elder finally stopped and, without ceremony, threw open a perfectly ordinary door.

  Lindon had somewhat expected to be beckoned into a great meeting hall, like the Hall of Elders where the Jades usually addressed the rest of the clan.

  But this was just a family dining room.

  Twelve men and women were inside the room. Eleven elders and the Patriarch. Most sat around a large dining table, though some sat on mismatched chairs or knelt on cushions around the walls.

  The Patriarch, Wei Jin Sairus, paced in front of them all at the far end of the room with his hands clasped behind him. He had a mane like a gray lion, and Lindon remembered him as the picture of strength.