Charity’s eyebrows raised. “Victory?”
For a long moment, silence reigned.
Dakata laughed awkwardly. “Of course. We have produced many Underlords since then. Surely more than the Blackflame Empire. You may take your pick of our youth.”
Charity raised one finger on each hand. “This is the current…score, if you would like to put it that way. There is one young Underlord from the Blackflame Empire who has been my choice all along. And I have had my eye on one young Lord or Lady from your Kingdom from the beginning.” She lowered her hands, folding them together. “None of your actions have changed the situation. It remains as it was months ago. There is still no third person at the Underlord level who meets my requirements.”
Daji stepped forward, anger clear on his face, and Kiro knew he had to act quickly before his little brother got himself killed.
“Honored Sage,” Kiro blurted out, “is there nothing we can do to distinguish ourselves in your eyes?”
He had been speaking mostly to draw Charity’s attention away from Daji, but she surveyed him for a long moment. After a second, she produced a folded sheet of paper from nowhere, flicking it toward him. The letter soared gently on the breeze, landing in his hand.
“The Blackflame Empire will return,” the Sage said. “The details are contained within.”
Kiro unfolded the paper. It was a map of the Night Wheel Valley, much more detailed than the one his father had cobbled together, with a single location circled. He read the label, as well as the instructions below.
Then he looked back to Charity, shocked.
She met his eyes calmly. “Send your three candidates to the location I have indicated and follow the directions I have left for you.”
The letter predicted everything the Blackflame Empire would do. As well as the actions of three of their young Golds.
The Sage wanted to see another competition.
“This time,” Charity went on, “I want to see you demonstrate your skills fairly. Hold nothing back. I have only one reminder for you.”
Kiro knew what she was about to say. It was written on the bottom of the letter, in large characters, circled for emphasis.
“You should not harm Akura Mercy,” the Sage said.
The same words were repeated on the paper beneath the map. You should not harm Akura Mercy.
The phrasing bothered him, but before Kiro could question it, King Dakata pounded a fist against his chest and boasted, “We will not let the Sage down!”
Charity looked back to Daji. “Truly,” she said, “I hope you don’t.”
Then, without warning, she faded back into shadow, leaving silence behind her.
The celebration had been ruined. Most of the bound Remnants had fled or quivered in fear, the musicians were too paralyzed with shock and fear to touch their instruments. The guests only murmured to one another, their food forgotten, and Daji clenched his fists in rage on the stage.
Dakata strode over to Kiro, plucking the Sage’s letter from his hands. He read it once, his back straightened, and he read it again.
He slapped the paper back into Kiro’s hands. “This time, you will meet them with our full force. Everything we can spare. You will grind them into dust!” Finally, he barked orders to his servants. “Tell the Soulsmiths I need that new armor finished within the day. We will spare no expense.”
The closest servant cringed. “How many sets must we prepare, Your Highness?”
“Two,” the King commanded, “one for each of my sons. If we have to use up every treasure we’ve gathered since we came here, I want them finished by dawn.”
“Not two suits,” Kiro corrected. He kept his gaze on Meira’s face, drawing from her the strength to correct his father. “Three.”
Her gray eyes widened with shock, and his father swelled with fury. Still, he kept himself fixed on Meira.
“I don’t want you behind me any longer,” he said quietly. “I need you by my side.”
“I will not fail you again,” she swore.
She thought he was giving her the means to serve him better. It was the opposite; he was trying, for once, to serve her.
“You’ve never failed me,” he said.
Between his fingers, he gripped the Sage’s letter tight.
He was the one who couldn’t fail again.
Chapter 16
Just outside the walls of Blackflame City, the Imperial cloudship waited.
It was a hundred paces long and forty wide, with three levels, and it rested on a bed of shimmering jade clouds. Mounted on the back were five scripted tubes that looked like backwards-pointed cannons. Those contained spinning wind constructs that thrummed with an Overlord’s power, and the scripts around them shone green. A brief question of Dross informed Lindon that they were there for propulsion; this was the fastest cloudship the Empire possessed.
Forty-eight of the strongest Blackflame Truegolds were gathered on the deck, as well as thirteen of the sixteen Underlords. Eithan stood chatting with Naru Saeya, who leaned against the railing suppressing a smile. Naru Gwei spoke with a veiled Underlady Lindon didn’t recognize and the Cloud Hammer Underlord, Chon Ma. Four or five of the gathered Underlords stood in a separate group, bristling with pride—those must be the newest additions, who had advanced in the Night Wheel Valley. None of them had less than a full head of gray hair.
Mercy and Yerin stood with Lindon, all wearing their Skysworn armor. Lindon had made some modifications to his, only a few of which were obvious to the naked eye. There were lines of script running down many of the armor’s joints, and the bracers and greaves on his right arm had been removed, leaving his white Remnant limb bare.
Over the heads of the crowd, Lindon spotted Cassias and his wife, moving over to greet them. Cassias was excited that Eithan had made up with the family leadership and wanted to know what had prompted that decision. Lindon had no idea what he was talking about, and said so.
Together, they discussed their situation. Fueled by the Emperor’s power, they were supposed to dash through the portal, head straight to the vault, empty it, and return. The Seishen Kingdom had erected some defenses on the other side, but they were token efforts at best, and the scouts were certain they’d spotted them all.
It wasn’t as risky as it sounded, Cassias assured them. The Seishen Kingdom could not have time to mobilize a force like theirs, and the strongest sacred artist on their side—the King—would be overwhelmed by sheer numbers. If they had an Archlord, this would be suicidal. As it was, they had little to lose.
Lindon understood all that, but he couldn’t help a case of nerves. Yerin’s life was riding on this.
He, for one, intended to attempt advancement as soon as they were on the other side. As for Yerin’s revelation…he knew it would be easier to sense the unity of aura on the other side. Maybe she would have the insight she needed. And maybe they could loot enough natural treasures that they could replicate the aura-rich environment on the other side.
But the hourglass was running down, and Lindon couldn’t think of anything else to do. How could he push someone else toward a personal revelation?
Mercy waved good-bye and headed off to the Emperor—she was to be the native guide on this expedition. And, Cassias informed them, Eithan and Naru Saeya were serving as navigators.
Lindon glanced around to where he’d last seen Eithan and instead found the Arelius Underlord standing not three feet away, grinning at him.
Startled, Lindon took an involuntary step back.
Eithan reached into his robe, withdrawing an object with a flourish: a smoky orb a little smaller than a man’s head. Shapes seemed to eddy and shift in its misty depths.
The Archstone.
Lindon could feel a resonance with the hunger madra in his arm, as though they longed to reunite.