Ultimately, there wasn’t much else Lindon could say.
“You do have my apologies, for what they’re worth,” he said again. “If there’s anything either of you need from me, call my name. I’ll hear you.”
Both of them nodded slightly, but didn’t otherwise respond. He supposed that was the best he could hope for.
Lindon shot up into the air on aura of wind and force, then flew over to join Yerin. She waited for him on the former site of the Heaven’s Glory School, just outside the Ancestor’s Tomb, and she had already gathered Orthos, Ziel, and Little Blue. When she saw Lindon, she gave him a grim smile.
“Caught me a message from Mercy. Looks like it was headed to the closest of us two. You want to see it?”
Yerin leaned against Orthos’ shell as she held up a construct that resembled an inky black fish. Orthos snorted smoke.
Little Blue, on top of Orthos’ skull, made a sound like crashing glass.
Ziel barked a humorless laugh. “Yeah, of course it’s from Malice.”
Lindon played the construct so that everyone could see it. Mercy’s image appeared, earnest and packed with emotion. Her hair was tied back, and her cheekbones were so sunken it looked like she hadn’t eaten or slept in weeks.
“Lindon. Yerin. I saw what happened today. I don’t know if I’ll be able to see you in person…”
With every word, Lindon’s fury grew. He felt as though he could hear Malice’s laughter echoing in the background.
When Mercy finished speaking, Lindon cracked the construct and it crumbled instantly to dust.
Orthos chewed on a mouthful of grass. “Tell me again what’s really happening.”
“Hunger aura doesn’t happen naturally,” Yerin said. “It only shows up when there are Monarchs who stay too long. If they all went away, the Dreadgods would get weaker and weaker and eventually die.”
“But where does hunger aura come from?” Orthos asked.
“Do I look like the Blood Sage to you?”
“We need to make the Monarchs ascend,” Lindon said. He could discuss the truth with anyone who knew, so Yerin’s explanation had loosened his lips. “But if they ascend first, it will take years for the Dreadgods to die. Years with no one to stop them. So we need to get strong enough to kill the rest of them.”
“The rest of them,” Ziel repeated. “Except for the Silent King. The one you killed. The Dreadgod you killed yourself.”
Lindon cleared his throat. “The Monarchs did most of the work.”
“Oh. Never mind, then.” Ziel gave him a pointed stare.
Inside the Ancestor’s Tomb, Lindon looked around at his team. “Did you all succeed in your assignments?”
[We know you did,] Dross whispered to everyone at once. [He just wants to see it.]
Orthos opened the void key Lindon had provided and Remnants spilled forth, black dragons of dark red madra that snarled and prepared to wreak havoc.
Until Lindon stared at them with black-and-white eyes. They slithered back inside.
Orthos grunted at them. “I have one Archlord black dragon Remnant, two Overlords, six Underlords, and fifteen Golds. And one cowardly Herald.”
From behind the others, Noroloth’s Remnant peeked a head up. “May I say something?”
“No,” Orthos said.
The Herald Remnant had been bound so that its power was restricted, which just barely allowed Lindon to fit it into Orthos’ void key with the rest of them. If it had resisted, it could have broken the restriction, but then Lindon would have torn open the space and hauled Noroloth’s spirit out bodily.
Which the Remnant was very eager to avoid.
“Will that be enough to get Orthos to Archlord?” Lindon asked Dross.
[Mmmm…given time. If he can subdue all their wills. And if you’re willing to donate a little madra, and a lot of soulfire.]
“That’s Orthos taken care of,” Lindon said. “Ziel.”
“Got it.” Ziel cracked the scripted container at his waist, and silver light spilled out along with a powerful will. He shut it quickly. “You’ll have to tell me if it has enough authority for you.”
“It does,” Lindon said. “Pardon me.”
He walked up to Ziel, close enough that the man’s horns almost poked him in the forehead. Most people would have backed up a step.
“What are you doing?” Ziel asked flatly.
“Looking,” Lindon said.
He felt something in Ziel’s spirit, and…yes, he thought he saw a glimmer of understanding in the depths of Ziel’s eyes. So Eithan hadn’t been making it up after all.