“You must have seen more amazing things than this with your family,” Lindon said. Lindon had never spent much time watching the scenery, but he suspected that the wonders of a Monarch's home must dwarf these.
“Well, sure, we keep fountains and gardens at home for decoration. But I'm always training at home.” Purple eyes met his. “When you spend all your time training, you don't get to go out and just enjoy things, you know?”
Spent all her time training?
“Forgiveness,” Lindon said hesitantly, “but if you spent all your time on training, then how are you still...” He trailed off. “I'm sorry if it's too personal.”
Mercy looked down at the deck, laughing awkwardly and scratching at her cheek. “That's a little embarrassing, actually. The truth is, I used to be stronger.”
[And now the owl's back! There are so many birds around here. Maybe the bird aura is strong here. I know there's no bird aura.]
Dross drew Lindon's attention up, where he saw the silver-and-purple owl swooping down from the clouds above them.
Mercy saw him turn and followed his gaze. “Is the owl back? Where is it?” She sounded doubly eager to see the owl, almost like she was afraid to miss it.
“It went under the ship,” Lindon said apologetically.
Mercy kept surveying the horizon, gripping her staff tightly. “I'm afraid it might be a...family thing.”
That brought up a thought that Lindon had been avoiding for weeks, ever since stepping out of Ghostwater's gate. He and Mercy had never really talked like this before, and this was as close to alone as they were going to get.
“Speaking of your family, I wanted to—well, I wasn't sure how to bring it up. Do you know Akura Harmony?”
Mercy hurriedly glanced from side to side. “I'm not sure now is the right time to talk about this.”
“I'm afraid I have some...news. Harmony is mmmph.”
Mercy covered up the last word by pressing both hands against his mouth. Her Goldsign, the black madra that she wore like gloves, felt slick and cool.
“Ssssh! Nope! I don't need to hear it! I can guess!”
Lindon tried to tell her he understood, but she pushed harder. “I get it! I understand!”
She was still looking past him, as though desperately afraid of being overheard.
[That's right, I thought she looked a lot like Harmony,] Dross said, fortunately only to Lindon. [I mean, like how Harmony used to look. Not how he probably looks now. Sliced into a thousand little cubes by a collapsing world and left to dissolve in a sea of chaos and oblivion.]
When she finally noticed Lindon's nods, she released him and continued. “It's not as big of a deal to me as you might think. We were only engaged because—”
“You were engaged?” Lindon interrupted. His voice was a little too high.
Little Blue reacted to his surprise, letting out a startled peep.
“It was a family thing,” Mercy said hurriedly. “His branch of the family wanted to improve their status, so they wanted to marry him off to the Monarch's daughter. And he thought the only one worthy of him was...”
She trailed off for a moment and started fiddling with her fingers. “…the family genius.”
The cloudship shook, running across a moment of rough wind, and Mercy pitched over face-first. Only a quick string of shadow tied her to the railing fast enough to prevent her from slamming her nose into the deck.
Her staff—or maybe it was a bow, in the form of a staff—hissed as it clattered to the deck. She scrambled to retrieve it.
Lindon wondered in what area she had been considered a genius. A scripting genius? A refiner? Mathematics? Maybe she was a genius with shadow madra; he wouldn't be able to tell.
“Did Harmony—” Lindon started to ask, but Mercy grabbed her staff and pushed it into his face. The dragon's head on the top glared painfully bright violet light into his eyes, hissing at him from an inch away.
He was afraid to move with the staff so close, and he kept his eyes fixed on the dragon's snout, but behind it he could see movement. The silver-and-purple owl had openly landed on the railing next to them, only a few feet from Mercy.
Its wide eyes stared straight at Lindon.
“Good-bye, Lindon!” Mercy shouted. “It was fun talking with you! I'll see you later!”
The owl continued staring at him as Mercy pushed him away.
Dross spun off his shoulder and back into his spirit. [Some consider owls to be omens of death,] Dross said. [Especially mice.]
~~~
Yerin sat in the cramped confines below the deck of the airship, a sword in her lap, cycling. The aura was thin here, and she was almost wasting her time trying to pull power from the sword, but she would accomplish even less up above.
Lindon, Mercy, and Orthos were up there, but if Yerin spent more than two breaths on the deck, she'd end up drawing swords on somebody.
A few more breaths, and the weak aura finally broke her patience. She gave up and stabbed her cycling sword into the wall, where it stuck, quivering. If she had wrapped her madra around it, the weapon might have split the wall in two.
Cycling wasn't going to do anything for her, and besides, she'd spent most of the last couple of months cycling and running through the jungle. Lindon was back, finally; she wanted to do something, not sit here alone and wait on the mercy of the Skysworn. It was like getting a taste of freedom only to be hauled back by the collar.
She fiddled with the hilt of her master's sword, restless. She wanted to be let out, to go...
To go and do what?
She wasn't sure what she wanted to do, but she couldn't sit here anymore. The fight earlier had gotten her blood flowing. And speaking of blood, her Blood Shadow was as riled up as she was, seething inside her soul. They both wanted a challenge.
She found herself thinking back to the Blackflame Trials, back in Serpent's Grave. She'd had a challenge then, something to try and overcome every day.
And she'd pushed herself forward to meet that challenge. With Lindon.
Images of the fight with the Skysworn rose up in her head. Compared to her memories of him in the Blackflame Trials, Lindon today was like an adult compared to a child. Only a month or so out of her sight, and he'd undergone a heaven-and-earth-shaking change.
He was strong now. Too strong.
He'd given her a brief outline of what had happened to him in Ghostwater, but she still wasn't sure about the details. Whatever had happened, it had rebuilt him from head to toe. And he had kept her from joining him.
She'd always hoped that he would catch up with her one day, but it had happened so fast.
Her Blood Shadow surged inside of her again, and she kept it suppressed with the strength of her madra. It still disgusted her, but it was supposed to be a ticket to great power. It hadn't done much for her so far, but maybe that was her way forward. Her personal Ghostwater.
She shook herself. It wasn’t like her to worry too much about someone else. She should focus on herself and her path to Underlord. That was certainly what Lindon was doing.
A knock at the door shook her back to reality, and she rose with Goldsign blades poised over each shoulder. A quick scan, and she knew who it was, though she was surprised to sense him here.
She felt oddly guilty as she opened the door for Lindon, as though he might somehow have heard her thoughts.
Maybe he was feeling the same way, because he wore an expression like he was smuggling weapons under his outer robe. He looked uneasy, which—on his severe face—made him look like he was plotting a murder. He ducked inside before she could say anything, glancing behind him.