Charity continued examining him as she rested her hand on the owl. The owl, too, stared fixedly at him.
“How many better prospects do you imagine there are?” the Sage asked. “You must know that you caught my grandmother’s attention. She instructed us to tie you to the family, and this would be the easiest way.”
[Wow, marriage is easy! I had always imagined a lot of nonsense building up to it, but this is nice and fast. You should do it.]
Lindon focused on watching dew bead at the end of a huge leaf so that he didn’t have to keep staring into piercing purple eyes. He declined as graciously as he could. “Apologies. I doubt I can live up to your expectations. I have never interacted with Grace as anything other than a teammate.”
“You will become a significant power in the future,” Charity said. “It is in our best interests to tie you to our name as early as we can. As for Grace’s personal feelings, while I intended to propose this issue to her, she brought it up first.”
For a moment, Lindon had a hard time believing that. But the Sage would have no reason to lie.
Then he couldn’t help but be flattered. More than he would have expected.
He understood the reality of Grace’s position: she saw him as a good prospect that her family would accept and that she could get along with. He had no illusions about his own charm.
“I am honored,” he said honestly.
“Good. We would also like to avoid the possibility of any…missteps…on your part. We are aware that the only young women you have spent significant time with are Yerin and Mercy, and we would like to act before you develop too much attachment to either of them.”
Lindon studiously examined the dew-spotted leaf.
“Mercy cannot afford any distractions until she reaches at least the peak of Archlord, at which point she will make her own decisions. And Yerin is not a member of our family. Yet. But we will be doing what we can to change that.”
“I appreciate your honesty,” Lindon said automatically.
“Yes.” Charity waved a hand, dismissing her owl. “Now, I would appreciate some from you.”
While Lindon couldn’t detect any clear change in her expression, somehow she seemed more relatable. Less like the Sage of the Silver Heart, and more like Mercy’s aunt.
Or, technically, Mercy’s ancient niece.
“I am genuinely flattered by the offer,” Lindon said, “but I am interested only in Yerin.” That was uncomfortable to say out loud, so he tried to soften the statement. “Presuming she feels the same way. I would like to try, at least.”
Charity folded her arms. “I knew we had waited too long when I saw your reservation at the Sundown Pavilion.”
He gave an awkward laugh that he didn’t feel. “Ah. My apologies.”
“None necessary. If you’re serious, you should strike sooner rather than later. Yerin has become one of the most eligible young women in the world.”
Lindon tried to imagine Yerin’s reaction to a stranger asking her for a stroll in the moonlight.
He couldn’t picture it going well.
“Pardon if this sounds too proud,” Lindon said, “but I don’t think that’s my greatest concern.”
When Charity made the final jump to the Ninecloud Court, she told Lindon to expect that they would emerge at the end of the cloudship dock.
So when he ended up inside a familiar gray, simply decorated room with Northstrider standing in the corner, Lindon was caught off guard.
At first, Lindon thought Charity had brought him to Northstrider as the result of some secret deal, but the Sage spoke in a flat voice. “Monarch. You could have summoned me.”
“I did,” Northstrider said. “Now I dismiss you.” His muscular arms were folded, and he stared into the walls as though watching something far away.
“We are allies. We may as well be cordial to one another.”
He slowly turned to regard her with his draconic gaze, but if he meant it to be intimidating, it didn’t seem to work. Charity met him evenly, impassively, without any disruption in her madra that Lindon could sense.
“Very well,” Northstrider said at last. “Thank you for your assistance. You may go.”
That didn’t sound too cordial to Lindon, but Charity accepted it, as she bowed. “Of course. Lindon, I will speak with you later. And I will relay your greetings to Mercy, Yerin, and Eithan.”
With that, she stepped into shadow and disappeared.
Dross spun out onto Lindon’s shoulder. [Sir! It’s been too long! I mean, not too long, unless you think so.]
The black orb appeared in Northstrider’s hand. “This time, I would like you to attempt some simulations, to show me the true extent of your predictive capabilities.”
[Of course! Of course, delighted to. I remember exactly—]
“Begin.”
Instead of pushing his way in, this time Dross was absorbed straight into the center of the black sphere, leaving Northstrider and Lindon together.
Before Lindon could say a word, Northstrider spoke. “You used my technique.”
Lindon immediately worried that the Monarch might disapprove, but pride in his accomplishment won out. “Gratitude for your guidance. It took me great effort to separate the powers from one another.”
“Has Dross helped you overcome the effects?”
Lindon quickly realized he must be referring to the burden that absorbing power put on his body and spirit. “Dross has been invaluable in helping me to separate memories, but my madra channels are still not quite as resilient as I would like.”
He studied the Monarch, hoping that Northstrider would take the hint and gift him with a set of Diamond Veins. Then Lindon wouldn’t have to use the treasure he’d bought from the Sky’s Edge battlefield.
“Your madra channels. Good. If you continue to use it on the battlefield, you could reach Overlord in a matter of weeks.”
“Gratitude, but I am not certain I have the insight to advance to Overlord. I have much yet to learn.”
“But you have investigated the Overlord revelation yourself.”
It wasn’t really a question, but Lindon nodded anyway. “It seems to be based on seeing yourself clearly, as the Underlord revelation was. I read a theory that Underlord requires meditating on the past, Overlord on the present, and Archlord on the future. But pardon me if I am incorrect.”
Northstrider ran his spiritual sense through him, keeping it on him until Lindon found it hard to breathe. “That is the path for you,” he said at last, and Lindon took a deep breath when his perception lifted. “Consider yourself as you are now. What is the nature of the will that drives you? What principles guide your madra?”
He tapped the black orb, in which Dross still swam, and then nodded to himself. “Yes. That is the way.”
Lindon bowed as he committed the words to memory. “Gratitude, Monarch. I hope to one day repay you for your wisdom.”
“You may soon have the chance.” Northstrider darkened, scowling but not at Lindon. “The Ninecloud Court has announced their support for Reigan Shen. Leiala would never have allowed it. She hated him almost as much as he deserves.”
Lindon thought back to Eithan’s fight and wondered if it was appropriate for him to speculate. “Is…is that Eithan’s fault?”
“It could be Miara’s immaturity, but the Ninecloud Court is far from the Blackflame continent. They have nothing to risk from this experiment, but they will provide little support to Shen either. The more pressing issue is the Eight-Man Empire. They are looking for an excuse to throw their weight behind one side or the other.”
“I thank you for sharing your wisdom.”
“I’m sharing so that you may understand,” Northstrider said sharply. “You will return to the Dreadgod battlefield, so you should know. Right now, a flight of dragons is poised to cross the continent and head to Sky’s Edge. They are held back by Heralds in the Wasteland, but those Heralds have no allegiance, even to me. They will bend with the wind. And they look to the Uncrowned King tournament to gauge the direction of the wind.”