It was time to go find his new allies.
22
Lindon stood and addressed the others, who had all grabbed seats around the large room at the top of Windfall. He had restored the house through a working of the Void Icon, which had astonished most of the others.
“We won,” Lindon said.
There was a distinct lack of celebration in the air.
Ziel burned with passion, and the words seemed to pass over him like a healing rain, but the others weren’t as excited as they perhaps should have been.
Mercy sat with haunted shadows behind her eyes, still stuck chewing on whatever she’d seen when she floated between life and death. Little Blue nodded at Lindon’s words but didn’t seem to feel that she’d done anything significant. Orthos shifted in his chair, trying to find a comfortable position in his human body.
Yerin was wrapped in so many bandages that she looked ready for burial. Her left eye was covered, and her right showed clear frustration.
“Cheers to us,” she said. “Feeling like a party in a bottle right now.”
Lindon gave her an apologetic look but continued. “We’re injured and tired, but we killed a Dreadgod. And it won’t be the last.”
“Yes,” Ziel said, voice low.
[I don’t know that I like that look,] Dross whispered into Lindon’s thoughts. [He’s too enthusiastic now. It’s scaring me.]
“This didn’t come easily,” Lindon went on. “Let’s take stock of what we’ve lost.”
Mercy’s shoulders drooped. “We lost one of the arrows. I’m sorry.”
[Two, actually,] Dross corrected. [One left!]
She wilted further.
“Sword’s patched up, but it’s not what it was,” Yerin mentioned. “Those Remnants I stole are dust in the wind, and we’re not sharp enough to battle. None of us came out of this with even more strength than when we started. Did we? Did we, Lindon?”
Lindon considered his words. “I have seen some…benefits.”
“This match is unfair. I want to talk to a judge about the rules.”
Suriel was a Judge, and she was indeed the first one to give Lindon his edge, but he decided not to point that out.
Ziel raised a hand. “The Grand Oath Array is in bad shape, unless you can repair it.”
“I think I can, but I’m not certain. Try not to use it for now.”
Ziel shrugged. “Worth it.”
“We now have two Dreadgod weapons,” Lindon said.
Yerin brightened. “You made it already? Walk that out and give it a spin!”
“Dross and I will be testing it in the labyrinth later, if you’d like to watch.”
“What is it? I was holding out for the Phoenix, but I wouldn’t spit on another sword.”
[It is a sword,] Dross allowed.
Yerin’s bad mood about her injuries vanished like morning clouds. “You waiting for sunrise? Let’s talk while we test! Where is it?”
“In my soulspace,” Lindon said.
Something occurred to Yerin. A thought he was hoping she wouldn’t have for a while. She scanned him and then gave him a flat look. “Where you keeping the Bow, then?”
“In my soulspace,” he admitted.
Mercy’s eyes widened. “You’re keeping two Dreadgod weapons inside your spirit?”
“I may have seen substantial benefits.”
Yerin muttered something under her breath. “What’s it going to take for us to catch up?”
[My turn!] Dross said happily. [For one thing, you are all far more effective than ever before, thanks to your access to a mind-spirit of unparalleled knowledge and cunning. As you know, Lindon has become a monster of terrifying proportions, since his body functions like a Dreadgod’s. But this has its drawbacks. He can no longer transport himself except by using the labyrinth, he can’t ascend, he’s gradually losing his body—]
“Dross!” Lindon interrupted. “You were supposed to talk about them.”
The damage was already done. The other five looked at Lindon like he was the one who had been grievously injured.
“You’re gradually losing your body?” Orthos asked. The red in his eyes blazed, and he folded his arms to lean forward. “Why did you hide that from us?” Somehow, he was more intimidating as a human.
Little Blue scowled at Lindon, but what he felt from her spirit was fear.
Yerin’s visible eye was wide, and her hand shook until she gripped it in a fist. “What’s this about you not ascending?”
He spoke to the room, but he focused on Yerin. “It’s not so bad. Once the Monarchs are gone, I’ll just need some time.”
“That’s one twisty word away from meaning ‘we win, or we’re stuck here.’”
[Worse than that!] Dross said cheerily.
Lindon pushed mentally against the spirit. “Dross, stop.”
[The more he gets taken over…]
“Dross!”
[…the more he becomes the Slumbering Wraith. So if we take too long, he’ll—]
“Stop,” Lindon commanded. The world twisted.
Dross’ mouth snapped shut.
Everyone in the room stared at him. Even Dross didn’t look apologetic or angry; he looked smug. He knew he had delivered the message.
“It sounds worse than it is,” he insisted. “Normally, Dreadgods are reborn from their core binding. But there is the possibility that my arm is the biggest anchor for the Wraith left, so if we take too long, I’ll…”
He didn’t want to say ‘I’ll be taken over,’ so he skipped that. “It’s only a possibility. I’m not worried about it.”
[I am,] the red Dross said.
Lindon’s working should have shut all of Dross’ bodies up, but he guessed the red one was different enough from the original that it wasn’t affected for so long.
Given that the information was out, Lindon canceled the working anyway.
“When did you have this fresh new idea?” Yerin asked.
Lindon had really wanted to explain this to her one-on-one. “While you were out. It’s one of the consequences of taking more Dreadgod power.”
She nodded to his words, then her gaze sharpened. “So. How long we have on the clock?”
[With two Dreadgods left? We have a comfortable three, four weeks to get rid of the Monarchs. If somebody kills the Titan or the Phoenix, that brings us to a less-comfortable two or three days.]
[What if they’re all killed?]
[Great question, handsome stranger. If the Dreadgods are all dead—except Lindon, of course—we have a matter of hours to get the Monarchs out of the world before he loses his mind.]
Ziel laced his fingers together. “So we have five targets before we take out another Dreadgod. Northstrider, Sha Miara, Akura Malice, Reigan Shen, and Emriss.”
Little Blue shuddered, and Orthos scowled. “Should you say their names like that?”
“We’re veiled,” Lindon assured him.
Mercy still looked horrified. “But you can’t move yourself. If they show up, you can’t even run.”
“You’re making the situation sound worse,” Lindon assured her. He felt like he had said that too many times in the last two minutes. “I can still move with the labyrinth. But yes, the Monarchs can now outrun me. So I can’t chase them all down and threaten to eat them if they don’t ascend.”
He had intended that as a joke, but no one laughed.
“We know what we need,” Orthos rumbled. “We need Monarchs of our own.”
Dross made an obnoxious alarm sound. [Wrong! We need you to improve without advancing. You know how Lindon had a body sort of like a Herald even when he was a Sage? Like that. We need to make you into half-Monarchs. You won’t take out any real Monarchs like that, but you should be able to gang up and give them a good beating. Yerin’s close to it, aren’t you, Yerin?]