Underlord (Cradle Book 6)

by Will Wight

  They had landed in a clearing between trees, but the woods were thin enough that they had no problem seeing a nearby hill covered in low sandstone buildings. A large town or a small city—it was their destination, though none of them knew exactly where they were. They had simply planned to stop at the first town of any size to try and contact the Arelius family.

  It would have been far easier to contact the Skysworn, who had agents all over the Empire. But given Lindon’s previous experience, a Skysworn squad would be as likely to execute everyone as to welcome them back.

  Between Lindon and the town, only a few hundred feet away, a group of two or three dozen people had frozen in the middle of a celebration. Colorful ribbons were strung between trees, and they all wore fine clothing. There were a few different Goldsigns among the crowd: a green third eye in the middle of the forehead, a red flower of madra blooming over the heart, a wide and thick yellow-brown tail that was so dense it looked almost real.

  Many of these onlookers were children, and the entire group stared at Lindon and the others with wide eyes. Some of them held drinks halfway to their lips.

  But this wasn’t the group that had grabbed Dross’ attention.

  [Wow, they were quick to show up, weren’t they? They must have been trying to catch up for days!]

  Over their heads, on the horizon and approaching quickly, was a group of green Thousand-Mile Clouds. They were heading toward the cloudship’s wreckage.

  Lindon’s heart clenched.

  “Dross,” Lindon said aloud, “where did they come from?”

  The clouds had gotten close enough that he could see their riders, wearing exactly what he had expected: deep emerald armor.

  [Relax!] Dross said in a soothing tone. [They’re from the same organization as you are. Nothing to worry about! We can take it easy and let them carry us home. And look, they’re protecting us from every direction at once!]

  Yerin whipped around to the other direction, checking to see if there were really people behind them as well. Lindon had no doubt there were, so he continued watching the group of approaching Skysworn.

  “How many?” he asked.

  [Four Truegolds, four Highgolds, and six Lowgolds,] Dross reported. [And I believe one Underlord. Nothing to worry about with him around!]

  Orthos braced his feet, staring into the sky with eyes shining red. Little Blue stretched to her full six-inch height on his head, pointing into the sky and letting out a mournful flute note.

  “The Empire is too big for a chance like this,” Orthos said. “We were hunted.”

  “Don’t I just feel like the prettiest girl at the dance,” Yerin muttered, drawing her sword.

  Seeing this, the people at the party began to run. Parents threw their food to the ground and grabbed their children, herding them back to the safety of the city. Lindon suspected the Skysworn would have evacuated the innocents as soon as they arrived, and indeed a pair of the Lowgolds broke off from the main group of Skysworn to dive for the fleeing party.

  That did nothing to loosen the knot in Lindon’s stomach. They had agreed to go to the Arelius family first, precisely because they wanted Eithan on their side before they made contact with the Skysworn.

  And Naru Gwei, the only Underlord in the Skysworn, had come already.

  He represented a significant amount of the Skysworn’s total combat strength. Lindon could think of only one reason why someone so important would hunt them down in person: he had decided to be rid of them once and for all.

  “We can talk with them,” Mercy said, though her face was pale and she had started running one hand nervously through her short hair.

  “Run for the town,” Yerin ordered. “They’ll have to fight us in the streets, not rain fire on us from the heavens.”

  Lindon sharply wished he still had his Thousand-Mile Cloud, but he took off running nonetheless. He and Yerin ran side-by-side, and the Skysworn ahead of them slowed their flight, pointing.

  Lindon realized it must look as though they were chasing after the group of escaping families. His breathing came quick, Blackflame madra boiling up behind his eyes, and the nausea in his gut deepened.

  The Skysworn had caught them too quickly.

  He had thought they would at least make it back to a major city, and had a chance to contact the Arelius family before the Skysworn caught up to them. Even if they had been caught, he reasoned, it would be by one squad: a Truegold or two and a group of trainees.

  He had never imagined they would respond immediately and with overwhelming force. Now, they had to hope the Skysworn were interested in talking.

  Lindon glanced back to Mercy, sure she couldn’t catch up to him and Yerin, but she had straddled her staff and was flying on it only a few feet above the grass. Little Blue clung to the top of Orthos’ head, looking terrified, and Orthos glared up at the clouds.

  The Skysworn, of course, didn’t let them make it to the town. One figure pulled up ahead of them and swept his arm in a low arc.

  Wind rose between them and the town, bright green in Lindon’s aura sight, whipping and twisting in a transparent barrier. It was a Ruler technique, gathering up the wind to form a long wall of violent air a hundred yards long and dozens of feet high. Yerin skidded to a halt before she reached it, and Lindon followed suit. The wind-wall tore up chunks of dirt and grass from the ground, blowing them upward.

  Naru Gwei stood twenty feet over them, as firm on his cloud as on solid ground. His arms were crossed over his battered breastplate, his matted gray hair pulled back. One of his eyes was burn-scarred, an old Blackflame injury, and a massive dark slab of a sword had been slung across his back.

  Usually he looked as though he’d been woken in the middle of a nap, but this time his eyes were sharp and locked on Yerin.

  Lindon’s heart raced as the worst-case scenario played out in his head. If the Skysworn launched Striker techniques from their clouds, he and Yerin and Orthos would be forced to defend themselves.

  And while Mercy seemed to have plenty of non-lethal options to choose from, he and Yerin did not. The only technique he could use that would reach the Skysworn on their clouds was his dragon’s breath.

  The Path of Black Flame was not suited for taking prisoners.

  That was why he held up empty hands and tried not to cycle his madra too quickly. The minute blood was truly spilled, this would devolve into a brawl. And there would be no winning that. Not with an Underlord present.

  “Faces against the ground,” Naru Gwei ordered. “Hands behind your backs. Spirits veiled. We’re taking you back for your involvement in the death of Skysworn Renfei and the assault and kidnapping of her partner, Bai Rou.”

  His tone brooked no debate, but Lindon didn’t have to look at Yerin to know that she wouldn’t comply.

  “We would be happy to explain ourselves,” Lindon said loudly. “There’s no need to restrain us, we will come willingly.”

  Gwei gestured, and the four Truegolds began cycling their madra, preparing to launch their techniques. “Faces against the ground,” he repeated, voice harder.

  Lindon spoke in a calm, even tone. “We’re on the same team.” Mercy nodded vigorously in agreement, but Yerin was still crouched with her sword out, her Goldsigns gleaming over her shoulders.

  Naru Gwei’s face contorted. “You turn on Bai Rou, then ask for my trust?”

  Lindon looked to Mercy and Yerin. He’d heard something about this over the last week or so, but he didn’t know what had really happened between them.

  “Just a little scuffle!” Mercy called up. “No one was hurt!”

  Yerin looked from Skysworn to Skysworn, paying special attention to the ones behind her. Lindon expected her to be angry or resentful, but she spoke to him in a calm voice. “If they’re supposed to bury us, why haven’t they gotten on with it?”

  Lindon took that as encouragement, turning back to Naru Gwei. “We will give you a full accounting, I promise. Please, let us talk this out.”

  The S
kysworn Captain unfolded his arms. “We will listen when your spirits and bodies are shackled. Faces on the ground, final warning.”

  Part of Lindon wanted to agree, but he had been locked up by the Skysworn before.

  And he was growing tired of letting other people decide what to do with him.

  “…I’m afraid if we do that, you are going to imprison us again.”

  Finally, the Underlord’s spirit flared. He raised his hand to the sky as though clawing for the sun, and wind aura rose at his command. The air grew rigid against Lindon’s skin, and he felt himself pressed together by wind, stiffening up. Yerin, Mercy, and Orthos were chained in the same way. Orthos seethed, heaving against his bonds.

  “You have no standing to bargain,” Gwei continued relentlessly. “My word is your law.” The four Truegolds descended, covered by Highgolds above them, and began moving toward their captives. Lindon felt a great weight bowing his shoulders, pressing him down. “You have not advanced enough to question me.”

  And that was it.

  Lindon’s fear ignited. When he’d been imprisoned by the Skysworn before, it was for no cause other than his Path. They had never trusted him to work for them, and had treated him like an enemy from the very beginning.

  They had used their superior advancement to push him and control him and keep him locked in a tiny room. If he continued to allow that, it would never stop.

  There had to be an end to it.

  He swiveled his eyes to the side until he met Yerin’s gaze. He had planned to use Dross to send his intentions to her. But as soon as she saw his eyes, her lips curled up into a smile.

  A Truegold man twice Lindon’s age seized his wrist in a gauntleted hand, extending a halfsilver manacle that would seal his sacred arts.

  The Burning Cloak blazed to life around Lindon, covering him in transparent black-and-red flames. Power flooded him, explosive force that demanded to be used.

  For an instant, Lindon struggled against the Ruler technique holding him in place. He was trying to swing his arm back, but it felt like he was pushing against a wooden wall.

  With a shout and a flare of Blackflame madra, he shattered that wall to pieces. Wind rushed out as the technique was broken, and his left fist flashed backwards.

  He hit the Skysworn with the back of his fist.

  The man was a Truegold as well, and he had been on his guard from the beginning. He raised one armored forearm to block, pink light shining out from his Enforcer technique.

  Lindon’s knuckles made contact.

  The Skysworn blasted backwards.

  He tore through the air in a streak of green, his passage kicking up dust, until he tumbled head over heels to land in a pile a dozen yards away.

  Lindon’s hand of flesh stung, so he shook out his fingers, keeping his eyes on Naru Gwei. “I would prefer to talk,” he said softly. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t fight.”

  The Skysworn Captain’s expression darkened. “Take them,” he ordered.

  The other Skysworn attacked at once.

  Chapter 2

  “Dross,” Lindon said. “I need a battle plan.”

  The three remaining Truegold Skysworn surrounded them. Three wouldn't be enough, but four Highgold teammates covered them from overhead, their hands starting to shine with Striker techniques. The Lowgolds were either evacuating the party or protecting the city. The odds were already stacked against them, even if Naru Gwei didn't move himself.

  Lindon needed an edge.

  He braced himself for the world to slow down.

  Instead, a lance of force pummeled Lindon in the chest, shoving him backwards. He twisted to the side as spears of golden light stabbed into the earth next to him, and Yerin slashed a spray of acidic madra from the air. Orthos roared as the Truegolds advanced under the cover of their Highgolds.

  [Not a problem!] Dross said. [Not a problem. Give me a minute or two to gather enough information on their Paths and behavior, so I can model them just right. One hour, max.]

  Lindon had missed his window to strike back, pressured by the Highgold attacks. Now a Truegold was on top of him—a woman with gray-streaked black hair and forward-curving yellow spikes emerging from her shoulders. Her armor had been modified to allow her Goldsigns to pass through the plates.

  What can you do for me? Lindon asked desperately.

  The woman drove her palm toward him, her hand Enforced with shining golden madra.

  [Have you not noticed?] Dross asked, surprised.

  The Burning Cloak ignited around Lindon, a black-and-red haze around his body. He jumped to the side, and the explosive power of the cloak launched him ten feet away. He landed next to one of the two armored Truegolds fighting Yerin, an older man with balls of swirling green liquid madra hovering around his head. He was gathering up a technique between his hands.

  [Oh, this is fun, you're going to like this. By living in your head, I can handle some of your unimportant thoughts myself! Only a few of the smallest ones, but I can keep them from distracting you. You should notice an increase in your concentration and your processing speed, and your reactions should be a little faster.]

  Another Highgold Striker technique was rushing toward his back; he could sense it. At the same time, the Truegold man had turned his attention to Lindon, seemingly unsurprised to see him land out of nowhere. He pushed the green liquid madra forward.

  Lindon barely needed to think.

  He spun to the side, catching a spear of golden Highgold madra with his right hand. He triggered the hunger binding for an instant as the enemy's technique made contact with his palm, just enough to destabilize the technique and cause it to break apart.

  In the same motion, he kindled dragon's breath in his left palm, shoving it into the Truegold's newborn technique.

  The gold spear dissolved into essence against his right hand as madra exploded in his left.

  The armored Truegold staggered back, smoke and bright particles of madra essence blasting around him, but the power of the Burning Cloak had already detonated inside Lindon, searing his madra channels. He slammed his right fist into the man's breastplate with the full weight of his body and spirit, red-and-black madra flaring.

  His opponent hurtled away. He slammed into the Truegold Lindon had knocked away earlier, falling on top of him in a pile.

  [Look at that beautiful stack. Couldn’t have done that on your own, could you?]

  Dross was right. The whole exchange had felt fluid and natural, and Lindon’s thoughts flowed like water.

  Not to mention his strength. He'd known the meat from Ghostwater had enhanced his body, but for the longest time he'd had no one to compare to other than Orthos, Harmony, and a bunch of monsters.

  The female Skysworn with the gold-spiked shoulders reached him only then, Forging a hammer of golden force the size of a wall. She slammed it toward him even as more Highgold Striker techniques converged on his location.

  With a burst of Blackflame madra, he vanished.

  He stood in front of Mercy, who had turned her staff into a bow. Had it been a bow the entire time?

  She had an arrow nocked and was trying to track a target, but a tiny pink fireball landed at her feet. She stumbled back, but remarkably didn't lose the arrow. She loosed it at an armored Truegold who had noticed her, approaching with an axe that looked to have been made out of a living tree.

  The arrow stuck in his armor and did nothing.

  But Lindon was there now. He let his Blackflame madra drop, switching to his pure core. This time, the Soul Cloak sprang up around him, a fluid blue-white light. It passed through his body like a nourishing river, and his body responded without thought.

  Since the fight with Harmony, he hadn't had enough time to explore his new capabilities. Between the sacred beast meat enhancing his strength, Dross speeding up his thoughts, and the Soul Cloak guiding his movements, it was like he was in control of a completely different body.

  He stopped the swing of the wooden axe, dodged a Striker
technique, kicked one of the Skysworn's legs out from under him, released a finger of dragon's breath to keep Orthos' opponent off-guard, tore the axe out of the Truegold's hands, dispersed another golden technique from behind him with his Remnant arm, smashed the Truegold with his own axe, then dropped the weapon and grabbed the woman following him by the spikes on her shoulders. She had already started pushing madra into her Goldsigns, but it was too late; Lindon had spun and thrown her with all the power he could draw.

  The two Truegolds landed on the pile one after the other.

  It had felt almost effortless. Like one long motion.

  He was out of breath and his madra channels felt sore, but he spun, looking for the next opponent.

  There came the chime of a great bell, and the four Highgolds—two on the ground, and two still on their clouds—all flew backwards at the same instant, sparks flying from their armor as though they’d been struck by invisible swords. The two in the sky fell, and Lindon launched himself toward the closest one: a girl with lines of crystal tracking down from her eyes like tears.

  He couldn’t know what this girl’s Iron body was. Maybe she would be fine. But he’d worked too hard to avoid killing the others to let blood be spilled now.

  The Highgold Skysworn apprentice flailed in the air, Forging a tower of purple crystal beneath her to try and catch herself. Lindon leapt up before the tower formed, catching her in his arms and landing on the grass. She shuddered in his grip, clutching the front of his outer robe.

  He turned to see Yerin standing beneath the other falling Skysworn. As he was about to hit the ground, she reached out and caught him by his collar. His neck jerked backwards and his heels still slammed into the earth, but he was fine.

  A second later, Yerin dropped him anyway.

  Lindon gently placed the Highgold girl down on the grass…although now that he looked, she was probably older than he was.

  Mercy cheered, and Orthos laughed. Lindon’s pile had already collapsed, three of the four Truegolds having risen to their feet, but none of them attacked.