“Then you are a very earnest messenger,” the Matriarch said, “but still perhaps an enemy. Enough. I have heard everything I need to hear, and I will make my own decision.”
With that, the leader of the Li clan strode away.
Mercy knelt in the dirt, frustration and helplessness twisting inside her.
She felt a building tide of madra, and looked to the side to see Kashi, the Truegold commander of her Akura troops. He was a conscript from Akura lands, not a member of the clan, and he was ganglier and more awkward than a stork.
He had drawn a pair of swords, which crackled with silver madra, and there was deadly ice in his eyes as he looked on the enemy wall.
“With your permission, Overlady, I can have her on her knees before you in ten breaths or less.”
“No, that would send entirely the wrong message. We’re here to help them.”
“Then let’s help them,” Kashi said. “Whether they want us to or not.”
Mercy pushed herself to her feet, brushing off her knees. “They’ve seen the signs of the Dreadgod’s coming. They’ll leave.”
“Forgive me, Overlady, but we can’t wait for them to come to a decision. If we can’t start evacuating them now, then we won’t have enough time to get them out.”
“But she was right that we can’t push her into a decision. We can afford to wait until tomorrow.”
Tomorrow the Matriarch would see reason, Mercy told herself. Rushing would only ruin negotiations. The Titan was more than a day away; they would see it coming long before they ran out of time.
She kept telling herself that instead of chewing the Goldsign from her hand in frustration.
Jai Long sat with Jai Chen in the corner of a tiny cloudship. It was hard to call it a proper cloudship at all, actually; it was more of a raft on the back of a Thousand-Mile Cloud.
They were part of a small fleet of these…cloud-rafts, some of which had been brought by the Akura Golds, though most had been confiscated from the Fallen Leaf School. They were designed to work in this low-aura environment, and as such were painfully slow. Jai Long often considered leaping down to the ground and running.
But down there, he would run into trouble. Up here, at least he had an escort.
They were returning to the Heaven’s Glory School—and the eastern exit from Sacred Valley—with a team of forty Akura Golds, a few dozen old or wounded exiles from the Wei clan…and Eithan Arelius.
Who would not leave them alone.
He drifted at their side on a dark blue one-person cloud that he had surely brought himself, and no matter how Jai Long steered his own raft, he couldn’t escape.
Jai Long had managed to dodge or bluntly ignore all the Underlord’s questions up until now, but Jai Chen wasn’t helping. She chatted with him easily, she and her dragon spirit.
“You’ve cared for your bonded spirit well,” Eithan observed. “Have you named it?”
“We call him Fingerling,” Jai Chen said, looking a little sheepish. “He started off the size of a finger, and he loves eating small fish. It started as a nickname, but then it just…stuck.”
The pink, serpentine dragon trilled proudly at the sound of his name. It undulated through the wind on Jai Chen’s shoulder and gave Eithan a haughty look.
“I quite understand. In the original language of my homeland, ‘Eithan’ also means ‘tiny fish.’”
She leaned forward. “Really?”
“No. It means ‘embodiment of impossible perfection.’”
Jai Long didn’t believe that either.
“Speaking of my homeland, I seem to recall that you were able to use a version of my bloodline power. Can you still see things through strands of madra around you?”
Jai Long shifted, trying to get his sister’s attention to signal her not to answer the question. Eithan was pushing them, questing for their weaknesses. The less she told these strangers, the better.
“Only if I concentrate,” Jai Chen said happily, and Jai Long cursed his own failure. He had raised her to be too trusting.
She gestured to her dragon. “He’s better at it. If he really tries, he can see things over a mile away.”
“Then he is very talented,” Eithan said, and the sincerity in his voice convinced Jai Long that he must be lying. Of course, Jai Long thought the same about every word from Eithan’s mouth.
The Underlord inclined his head to the pink dragon, and Fingerling preened under the attention.
“And how about you, Jai Long?” Eithan asked. “I hear you’ve been having quite the adventures here in Sacred Valley.”
Jai Long had known this was coming, and he had an ironclad defense ready.
“Not by choice. I have nothing left to do with the sacred arts. I’m done.”
If he made a vague statement, the Arelius Patriarch would interpret it however he wanted. Jai Long would leave no doubt: he wanted nothing to do with the world of sacred artists anymore.
Eithan nodded along as though he understood. “A wise decision. Who needs to sprint from advancement to advancement? Stay as an Underlord, I say.”
Jai Long had to keep himself from snorting in disdain. Eithan had made it to Underlord young enough that he would almost certainly reach Overlord one day, especially considering how strong he was and how many resources he had access to. There was no way he would be content as an Underlord.
Eithan snapped his fingers. “You’re not an Underlord yet, are you? But you made it so close. Surely you’d want to stay somewhere with stronger aura for a while, just to see if you could take that last step.”
“I would not dare to take the leap to Underlord so lightly, Patriarch Arelius.” He hoped his tone would shut Eithan up, but if it didn’t, he could stonewall the conversation all day.
In fact, he had been tempted to go stay outside Sacred Valley for a few months, to test himself and see if he could reach Underlord.
But that temptation was nothing weighed against safety. And Sacred Valley, while not exactly welcoming, was at least filled with weaklings.
“Patriarch Arelius?” Eithan repeated. “We’re old friends at this point, Jai Long. By all means, relax.”
“If you insist.” It would be wiser to keep his mouth shut, but Jai Long saw the opportunity to strike back. “You must be proud to have trained another Underlord so young. Perhaps he’ll even reach Overlord soon. Isn’t the dream of every master to be surpassed by their student?”
Jai Long had known enough Underlords. They all said they wanted their disciples to surpass them, but every time someone showed greater talent than theirs, they erupted out of wounded pride.
That should be enough of a jab that he would get to enjoy some discomfort on Eithan’s face, but not enough that he’d display open anger in front of all these Akura Golds.
Instead, Eithan’s eyebrows shot up.
“Underlord? Haven’t you heard? Lindon’s a Sage.”
This time, Jai Long did snort in disbelief. He didn’t say anything, but his contempt should be clear. Joking around was one thing, but Eithan would have to make his lies more believable if he wanted to deceive Jai Long.
But Jai Long didn’t like the look of the smile that slowly widened on Eithan’s face. “Waaaaait a moment. Have you not scanned Yerin?”
He hadn’t, but only because he’d been trying to stay away from Yerin as much as possible. Even if Lindon didn’t hold a grudge—which Jai Long still doubted—the Sword Sage’s apprentice certainly would.
“I did,” Jai Chen put in. “I don’t mean to be rude, but is there something wrong with her? Her spirit was…strange.”
“How so?” Eithan asked, in the tone of a man who already knew the exact answer to his question.
“It felt like her spirit was all tangled up with her body. Like her madra channels had melted into her, if that makes sense.” Jai Chen lowered her voice. “Was she injured? Is that why she’s so weak now?”