by Will Wight
Orthos exchanged glances with Little Blue. “He does not feel like he is in danger.”
Blue chirped agreement.
Yerin’s heart eased a little. She had worried that Orthos would tell her that Lindon was horribly injured. Yerin took that to mean that she had enough spare time to catch her breath before she responded. “What does he feel like?”
“Old anger,” Orthos responded. “And deep sorrow.”
Blue sang a long, sad note.
“Bleed and bury them.” She was starting to think the Wei clan might be worth even less than the Heaven’s Glory School, though she suspected there wasn’t a rat hair’s difference between them. “Go anyway. Scoop up Lindon, and let’s fly ‘til we run out of sky. Let this whole place burn.”
Orthos’ head tilted upward again. “We were just discussing the sky. From what Little Blue tells me, that’s what we should be worried about.”
The Riverseed spread her arms and gave a high chime, emphasizing the size of the Dreadgod.
“Can’t contend she’s wrong.”
Yerin looked up to the rust-colored mountain, which had been stained with gold.
How much time did they have left? Two days? Three? Or would the Titan stop dragging its feet and just kill everyone already?
Yeah, it was time to leave. If anyone decided to stay after being warned and got crushed under a Dreadgod’s heel, that was between them and the heavens.
Something moved in the horizon, and she realized one of the distant peaks past Mount Venture had crumbled. No surprise there. With the earth shaking like it—
Her thought cut off as the Wandering Titan crashed through the mountain.
It swept through the mountain like it was brushing aside tree branches. Its dark silhouette was distant, and clouds cut off its head.
It walked a few steps closer, but those steps must have eaten miles. Only then did it move to its knees, disappearing below the reddish mountain.
The sound of a crash hit her like thunder a moment later, but her heart was racing.
The Titan wasn’t days away.
It was here.
It could make it to the Valley inside the hour, if it wanted. It was just taking its time.
Orthos took in a long breath. “The Wandering Titan…never did I think I would see not one, but two Dreadgods. And only a few years apart.”
“Trapped,” Yerin whispered.
They couldn’t escape in time. It was too late. Ziel and Mercy were too far away, and she couldn’t carry anyone in her Moonlight Bridge. She wasn’t certain how many more times she could use it herself.
They needed more time.
They needed help.
Yerin limbered up her shoulders, stretching herself as madra ran through her channels. None of that helped the soul-deep fatigue that came from the Moonlight Bridge, but she still focused her will.
“Grab Lindon,” she said. “I’ve got my own ditch to dig.”
Little Blue gave a whistle of alarm, and Orthos looked as though he agreed with the Riverseed. “What are you doing, Yerin?”
“Somebody’s got to slow that thing down. Heavens know I can’t do it myself.”
“You’re not from the Kazan clan!” Elder Rahm shouted.
Eithan held a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “Am I not? How can you be sure? Perhaps we’re very, very distant relatives.”
Elder Rahm thrust a finger at the small crowd of people hurrying into a two-story house. “Then what do you care about them?”
Unlike most of the other buildings in Heaven’s Glory, this house wasn’t made of rainstone, but of pale orus wood.
It was actually quite beautiful. Eithan wondered how much it had cost to import the lumber up the mountain.
“I consider myself a great humanitarian. How could I watch prisoners suffer, even when they are taken from a clan other than my own?”
These twelve prisoners from the Kazan clan hadn’t been abused as far as Eithan could tell, only confined. He suspected they were political hostages to keep the clan in line.
But the Heaven’s Glory School had planned to keep them here.
And unfortunately, he had only found them after his team of Akura Golds had all abandoned him. Shame on them, prioritizing things like “their individual human lives.”
The Heaven’s Glory School hadn’t listened at all when he told them about the doom that was coming, and indeed had ignored even his considerable charms.
Ordinarily, at this point, he would have resulted to threatening them until they were more frightened of him than of leaving their homes.
But he was already little better than a genuine Jade, and his bloodline senses were dull. He had to be careful…without looking like he was being careful.
He had given up on persuading the school, but he would take their prisoners with him. There were quite a few of those, it turned out. Several hundred scattered all over their territory. He had started with the Kazan hostages, but they needed somewhere to wait while the other prisoners were gathered.
So Eithan had co-opted Elder Rahm’s beautiful orus-wood home.
The prisoners filed through the door, huddling together, and Eithan waved at them to encourage them to head into the house. “If you don’t want to leave, I can’t make you,” Eithan said, though he regretted the truth of the statement. “But I would at least like to save those who are blameless.”
Elder Rahm spat on the ground. “Save. We are not children, to be led into death by obvious lies.”
“Let me ask: if I’m walking into certain death, why do you care if I take the prisoners with me?”
“They are not my enemies. They are the responsibility of Heaven’s Glory. It is up to us to preserve, protect, or punish them as they deserve.”
Eithan knew the real answer. Elder Rahm was stubbornly opposing anything Eithan wanted. He didn’t need a reason for it other than his distrust of outsiders.
They had no time for this. The aura was already in chaos. If the Dreadgod was more than two days away, then he had lost his touch. If they delayed any longer, the Akura cloudships would leave.
Eithan spread his hands and gave a helpless smile. “If I cannot persuade you, then so be it. As long as you allow others to leave as they wish.”
“You think too highly of yourself.” The old man’s glare was cutting. “It will be the ruin of you.”
“So I’ve been told.”
A shout for Elder Rahm came from behind Eithan, so he whirled around, striding across the street. “My apologies, but Elder Rahm is weary from diligent pursuit of his duties. How may I assist you?”
The Copper Heaven’s Glory disciple looked very uncertain, glancing over Eithan’s shoulder at Elder Rahm, but he quickly looked back to Eithan’s face. “This one was coming to tell the Elder that our envoy departed on time.”
With strands of his bloodline power, Eithan watched the Elder behind him. The old man stared furiously at Eithan’s back, gathering aura of fire and light.
A Ruler attack was the correct tool to use against Eithan, but the Sacred Valley Jade didn’t know that. Eithan raised his voice. “Don’t make a mistake you’ll regret, Elder Rahm.”
Rahm froze in the middle of his Ruler technique, then stubbornly continued pulling it together.
Something the Copper had said caught Eithan’s attention. “I’m sorry, young man. Your envoy to whom?”
“To…to the Wei clan.”
Lindon and Yerin were at the Wei clan. Eithan had just received a garbled transmission in Dross’ voice that he suspected meant the clan was on its way.
Heaven’s Glory had found out first and enacted a plan. That was galling. Eithan preferred to be the better-informed one.
“You’ve done a bad thing, Elder Rahm,” Eithan said as he slowly turned around.
“Not yet.”
The Ruler technique snapped into place. It was crude, but as soon as it completed, Eithan felt a genuine spike of alarm.
It wasn’t aimed at him.
/> A line of light focused on the wooden house.
Where the focused sunlight streamed down from heaven and touched the wood, flames leaped up as though the house had been soaked in lamp-oil.
Screams came from inside, but it would take a moment before the fire reached them. They could escape.
Eithan had already dashed back, seizing Rahm by the front of his robe. “What is this?” he asked quietly.
Elder Rahm’s jaw remained stubbornly shut, but there was a gleam of hatred in his eyes.
Heaven’s Glory members had filtered out from all over to watch. They muttered about the fire, but their attention was focused on Eithan.
He had come here prepared to be betrayed. If they all jumped him at once, he could still walk out with ease.
But now, he would have to abandon people under his protection.
A Kazan prisoner stumbled out of the door, but a line of Heaven’s Glory madra streaked in front of him, burning through the doorframe and setting it on fire. The prisoner staggered back, then turned to find another exit. The fire hadn’t spread fully yet. He could escape.
More Striker techniques poured in from the bystanders.
They couldn’t fight him.
But they defied him now.
Eithan turned his attention back to Rahm. “You would rather die than let them leave?”
“Rather die than bow to you.”
Eithan watched the old man’s face, and it was as though he saw Rahm through a new lens. He looked alien, like he had transformed into something other than human.
But he hadn’t changed. This was what people had always been like.
“Very well,” Eithan said.
He shoved Rahm back two steps, where a star from the Hollow King’s Crown hung in the air like a blue-white jewel. The Jade looked up.
The pure madra blasted down, spearing him through the soul.
His Remnant slowly split itself in half as it tried to rise, but Eithan had turned his attention to the rest of Heaven’s Glory. They had piled Striker and Ruler techniques onto the house, openly defying him, and still none had dared to actually attack him.
With his powers restricted, their numbers mattered. They could overwhelm him if they figured out something that would penetrate his Archlord body. Once he ran out of his weak and limited madra, anyway.
He could still leave, regroup with Lindon and Yerin, and together they would plow through the Heaven’s Glory School.
He would just have to leave twelve people in a burning building.
Eithan had made that choice long ago.
He stripped his turquoise outer robe, letting it fall to the snow. Before it landed, he’d reached an Iron Ruler holding sword and shield.
One twist, and the man’s arm was broken, his sword falling. Eithan reversed it, shattering his shin with the hilt.
A Striker technique lanced through the air where Eithan’s head had been a second ago. He stood in front of the Striker who’d launched it, breaking the woman’s jaw with the flat of his new sword.
A trio of Enforcers approached together.
Seconds later, when he was done with them, he stood over their groaning, bleeding, but still-living forms with blood spattered all over his face.
“Anyone who comes into that building with me will be forgiven,” Eithan said.
Several Heaven’s Glory ran away. Most people peeked around corners, unwilling to get closer. The house was all but consumed by fire now.
Eithan turned to the home himself. The sleeves of his under-robe were too long, so he tore them off. “I will remember this.”
Then he plunged into the flames.
Striker techniques followed him.
13
Yerin wasn’t really sure how her Moonlight Bridge worked.
When Ruby had stolen the Bridge to go to Lindon, she hadn’t given the Bridge any directions, and hadn’t known exactly where Lindon was. She had just willed the Divine Treasure to take her to Lindon, and it had done so.
Did the Bridge scan the whole world, find the person who matched her thoughts, and then take her there? Did it read her mind for some coordinates that even she wasn’t aware of? If she told it to take her to her closest living relative, or to the person who hated her the most, would it be able to do that?
Lindon would have already tested it to find out. Eventually, she would too. If you relied on a weapon you didn’t understand, you might find it turning in your hand.
But when she finally escaped the suppression field of Sacred Valley and willed the Moonlight Bridge to take her to Akura Malice, she was terrified.
What if the destination was off-track again? What if it stranded her far away, then took the full three days to recharge?
As it turned out, there was no need to brace herself. She was washed away in white light, re-forming immediately on the outstretched branch of an enormous tree.
Just the branch was as wide as a road prepared for wagons, and it looked thin as a twig next to the trunk of the tree itself, which stood as tall and wide as one of Ninecloud City’s towers. An icy wind blew leaves big enough to use as tents, and darkness covered the lands beneath her.
Shadow aura.
Akura Malice hovered above Yerin’s tree, close enough that Yerin could have lobbed a pebble and hit the Monarch in the back of the purple silk dress. Spread out before them both was a broad valley, not too unlike Sacred Valley, filled with buildings that looked as though they had been stolen from all over the world. They resembled toys from this distance, but no two were alike.
Except in their condition. If they were toys, the child playing with them had gotten bored and smashed them, poking holes in them or tossing them here and there. Long holes were gouged into the earth, and there was a broad indent in the center of the valley in which several buildings had been crushed. Yerin was uncomfortably certain it was a footprint.
A bow appeared in Malice’s hands, its shaft seemingly made of glacial ice that shimmered like moonbeams. Yerin’s spiritual sense shivered as she felt it, and while she didn’t examine it any closer, she tasted a confusing riot of impressions.
Malice lazily pulled back the string, and an arrow of the same material as the shaft appeared on the bow. She spent a moment taking aim, then loosed the arrow.
In the distance, a flock of silhouettes flapped furiously away. They were far enough away that they looked like a featureless cloud until Yerin focused on them.
That entire cloud dropped to the ground at the same instant Malice released her bowstring. Yerin tightened her gaze, finding her Herald body responding easily.
As she’d suspected, there was an iridescent blue-and-green arrow stuck in the body of each gold dragon.
“I’m so glad you decided to visit,” Malice said warmly, though she didn’t look down. She seemed to be tracking another target. “Would you like a turn?”
Yerin didn’t want to openly express her disgust at the sight of a Monarch taking lesser lives out of petty revenge, and she was in a hurry. “Don’t have so many seconds left that I can spare one.”
“Quite understandable. Would it help you if you knew what they’d done?” She flicked a hand, and tendrils of shadow seized a gold dragon halfway across the valley. Yerin wasn’t even sure how she’d understood where to look; maybe Malice was transmitting her intentions directly.
“He has power roughly equivalent to an Overlord, like yourself only recently, and he led many raids on human towns in the Wasteland. When he did, he would take living trophies. Once, he captured all of a town’s children, then trapped them on a small island with one knife each and told them that the one survivor would be rewarded and released unharmed.”
Yerin’s stomach twisted. “Burn him, then. Monarch, I need your help to stop the Titan.”
“Their desperation and lack of skill amused him,” Malice went on. “He was true to his word, in the end. He patched up the winner’s wounds, gave the boy food and water and a powerful sacred instrument, and released him. I was thinking I
might do something similar. Poetic justice, I suppose.”
Malice drifted down to stand on the branch beside Yerin. “I could tell him I’ll release him if he defeats you in a duel, how about that? Or we could gather up some survivors, seal off their sacred arts, and make them scratch and claw each other until we spare the victor. What do you think?”
“Don’t want a turn of any game he’d play. If he deserves killing, kill him. Don’t play toys with him. But there’s a Dreadgod—”
“He does deserve it,” Malice said. The shadow-arms reached up and swallowed the golden speck whole; Yerin could sense nothing of him anymore, and she couldn’t be sure if Malice had erased the dragon or transported him somewhere else for capture.
“I respect your position,” the Monarch went on. “The rule of humanity is civilization, and civilizations are based on laws. We should not lower ourselves to our base instincts, or we are no better than they.”
Malice gave a cold smile. “And while I agree up to a point, there is something to be said for…proportional response.”
Yerin surveyed the ravaged valley. “Looks to me like you’ve got your response.”
“It is yet far from proportional.” But Malice warmed once again as she faced Yerin. “But they can wait. They are bare of defense before me…thanks to you.” She took Yerin’s hand in both of hers. “How can I bless your life, Yerin?”
You could start by opening your ears, Yerin thought.
But the sudden change in attitude threw her off. She had expected a positive reception—she had killed Malice’s biggest enemy, after all—but this was a little much.
Yerin met purple eyes that glistened in the picture of motherly affection. “What can you do about the Wandering Titan?”
“Oh my, you do think the world of me, don’t you?” Malice brushed a strand of hair away from Yerin’s eye. “You’re close enough to a Herald now; you should have a more realistic view of a Monarch’s limitations. I was able to keep the Bleeding Phoenix away from certain areas for a few days, but even so, I was not able to drive it off completely. And it had awakened early; it was not fighting at full strength. There’s an argument to be made that it would have destroyed less property in total had I not matched it in battle.”
