“I cannot express my gratitude enough, but I admit that I’m terrified. I fear what the other Monarchs will do to those who remain in the competition.”
He didn’t want to voice his full concern aloud, in case Kiuran or one of the Monarchs was listening, but he was even more afraid for his friends’ lives now than he had been before. The Hound was pushing the Monarchs, and whatever protection he promised, Lindon was afraid Seshethkunaaz or Reigan Shen would find a way around it.
Northstrider nodded once. “It is wise not to rely on the intervention of the Abidan. Whatever they say, they act only for their own benefit. Not ours.”
Lindon tried his best not to reach for Suriel’s marble. Had she left him with his memories intact for his sake, or her own?
“But you may put your fears to rest,” the Monarch continued. “The competitors are under my protection. At least for the duration of the tournament, they will be safe.”
He spoke with such absolute certainty that Lindon’s concerns eased, though he did wonder what would happen after the tournament ended.
“Thank you for the instruction, honored Monarch,” Lindon said. “If you’ll pardon one more question…why did you bring me along?”
Northstrider examined him for a long moment.
“I will study Dross again.” He seemed to have ignored Lindon’s question. “For now, I will leave him within you. I would have returned him before either of you were permanently harmed by the separation, but I will allow you to stay together from now on. Clearly you have formed a…symbiosis.”
Relief was more likely to take Lindon off his feet than the wind was. Since he had first seen Northstrider, Lindon had always been haunted by the fear that the Monarch would punish him or dissect him to reclaim Dross.
Lindon bowed. “Gratitude.”
“Now, until I call for you, do not neglect your training. Sopharanatoth is one of the two most favored to win this competition, and she will use Penance on Akura Malice or myself without hesitation. If you wish to influence the situation, you must be stronger.”
Lindon hesitated. “If you will enlighten me, how could I possibly stop Sophara if she wins?”
Northstrider’s eyes gleamed gold. “Training will never let you down.”
“Then…pardon, but…can we win?”
He was afraid to ask too many questions of a Monarch, but he had to know.
And Northstrider didn’t seem annoyed. “The most certain path to victory is to have a fighter representing myself or Malice win the tournament. If we cannot accomplish that, victory becomes more costly or difficult. But not impossible. The only true defeat is death.”
Those words resonated with Lindon, as though Northstrider had given voice to something inside him.
He strode over to the edge of the roof and turned to look back over his shoulder. “I will see you soon, Dross. And Lindon.”
Then he stepped out over the edge and fell.
Leaving Lindon wondering: why had the Monarch changed his mind about Lindon? He had gone from treating Lindon like a patch of mud to answering his questions and addressing him directly. Was he so impressed by Lindon’s determination?
[I told you, didn’t I? He’s a very generous man. And he has a good eye for talent. My talent, anyway.]
He didn’t care about me at all, Lindon thought. Then he came back for me. Was it something you said?
Dross straightened himself up proudly. [That’s what it was. He does value my opinion, you know.]
It was a simple explanation, and maybe it was the correct one. There was no point in making wild guesses.
Lindon looked around at the sloped diamond rooftop. “Now…where are we?”
2
It took Lindon over two hours to climb down from the tower, then find his way back to the Akura building amidst the glistening structures of Ninecloud City.
Dross remembered the city’s layout, but every route they tried was blocked. The streets were in chaos. People poured out of doorways from interrupted parties, cloudships reversed course in midair against the flow of air traffic, and every inn was choked by lines that stretched around the block.
Over it all, the Ninecloud Soul repeated announcements at a deafening volume: the tournament schedule had changed. The second fight in the fourth round of the Uncrowned King tournament was scheduled to take place three hours past dawn in the morning.
That change had shifted the lives of more people than Lindon could comprehend, and the city bustled like an anthill.
He had to consult a shining map projected by light madra on the air, repeatedly use his Thousand-Mile Cloud to get a peek over the crowds, and eventually talk to city security.
The Ninecloud peacekeepers, Underlords all, recognized him immediately.
The Uncrowned King tournament was shared with the entire city. Though this would likely be their busiest night of the year, the peacekeepers took the time to commiserate with Lindon on his loss as they directed him back to the tower assigned to the Akura clan.
“What can you do when they set you up against your own teammate?” one gruff man in a stiff peacekeeper’s uniform said. “Not your fault. If anyone’s to blame, it’s No—” He coughed. “Nobody.”
Lindon bowed and thanked them for their assistance, but his heart throbbed. That wound was still fresh, and a reminder that everyone in Ninecloud City had seen him lose only increased his shame.
[Not just Ninecloud City!] Dross added brightly. [Memories, recordings, and written accounts of the Uncrowned King tournament are being distributed all over the world.]
Lindon had viewed some memories from previous years, stored in the records of the Ninecloud Court.
Still, he didn’t appreciate the reminder.
When he didn’t respond, Dross tried again.
[Ah…I do feel the need to apologize one more time about things with Master. Northstrider, I mean. Master Northstrider. He did say that he wouldn’t have let you suffer permanent damage, so no harm done! Right?]
I’m just relieved we don’t have to be afraid of him.
That much was true, but he couldn’t rid himself of a small grain of resentment. He had warned Dross. Over and over.
But there was nothing Dross could have done when the moment came. The spirit couldn’t have resisted Northstrider.
[Relieved! Same. Exactly the same for me. Well, good. That’s good! We’re both relieved, so that’s a relief.]
Lindon pushed his irritation down. Clinging to bitterness was childish.
He finally made his way to the amethyst spire that hosted the Akura family. One of the rainbow-robed staff led him to a cloud, which lifted him up the side of the building and to a dock outside his floor.
It was late at night by the time he returned, but the entire city was awake.
Yerin and the others would be too.
Lindon made his way to the suite of rooms that had been set aside for the Akura prime team. Spiritual perception was muddled in here—not so much that he couldn’t push through it, but the restriction was a privacy feature, so it would have been rude to do so. As a result, he couldn’t check to see if any of his friends were nearby while remaining polite.
But Lindon knew Eithan.
He activated a scripted card, which resonated with the door to Lindon’s room and caused it to slide open.
Eithan lounged in a padded chair within view of the door. He brushed yellow hair behind him and gave Lindon a beaming grin. “Did the walk clear your head?”
Lindon’s room was the size of any reasonable person’s entire house, and it was like the decorators couldn’t decide between opulent wealth and a natural garden. A river trickled through the center of the room between multicolored tiles, birds chirped from the artfully carved beams across the ceiling overhead, and a living tree in the corner held glowing fruits.