Lindon pushed against the willpower, freeing his own motions enough to bow and speak clearly. “I do not wish to be your enemy.”
“Then watch yourself. When you are a Monarch yourself, only then will you understand the burden we carry.”
Northstrider turned, and the watery world was stripped away like a painting torn from a wall. Lindon felt space twist as the Monarch vanished, leaving Lindon aboard his cloud fortress hanging in the sky over Sacred Valley.
[He doesn’t usually give warnings,] Dross observed. [He is more merciful than we deserve.]
Lindon regretted giving so much of his real thoughts away. It would have been more prudent to pretend to be completely under the Monarchs’ command, and then to pursue his own research against the Dreadgods on his own time.
“Even so,” Lindon said aloud, “we learned something.”
They had determined for certain that Northstrider wouldn’t leave Cradle unless forced.
So Lindon had to force him.
Northstrider slid through the Way, which somehow felt more distant than usual, emerging only when he felt that he’d arrived.
Ninecloud City spread out beneath him, a collection of bright jeweled towers in every color. They reminded Northstrider of candy: dyed bright colors to attract the attention of children, and devoid of substance.
Now, the entire sky was black with clouds, and rain pelted everything in sight—except Northstrider—in a constant deluge. The city shimmered in a rainbow hue, its protective constructs engaged.
As dragons of living madra rained from the sky.
The Weeping Dragon’s Striker techniques fell in the millions, tiny serpentine dragons of crackling blue-gold storm madra. They writhed like worms as they reached the ground, shooting off to seek the nearest target with spiritual power. As they fed, they would blight the countryside like a swarm of locusts.
Northstrider looked up to a bright nine-colored star that shone through the clouds. He flew up to join Sha Miara, blasting through the living techniques with his body. The tiny dragons broke when they hit his skin, and he paid them no heed.
The youngest Monarch was shrouded in bright madra that shimmered in every color, shrouding her from even his eyes. The disguise was shaped into the general outline of a woman, meant to deceive people into thinking that Miara’s mother—Sha Leiala—was still alive.
In the last few months, the Sha family had begun to seed the rumor that Leiala was about to abdicate her rule to her daughter. They must have felt that Miara had grown enough to handle the public burden.
If she survived the coming conflict, she would be worthy of her throne. And Northstrider would make his judgment on the matter clear.
He couldn’t see her real face without stripping her disguise away, but he knew what she would be watching, so he arranged himself to watch the same direction.
A serpent’s coils broke the ocean of clouds. The sapphire scales shimmered with their own internal light, and though the Dreadgod was hundreds of miles away, it still appeared titanic.
Northstrider rolled his neck before his body could tense up. The Weeping Dragon had struck him a great blow, enough that most of the world had thought him dead for many years. He could still feel the lightning scorching him as it fed, trying to tear his soul out from his body.
It was the closest he had come to a true death since reaching Monarch.
“How long can the city defenses hold?” he asked Sha Miara.
“A few weeks.” The disguise covered her voice as well, but he heard the quiver of uncertainty in her tone. “Less, if it attacks in earnest. Would you…ahem. We would be eternally grateful for your assistance in this matter. You would be handsomely rewarded.”
Northstrider didn’t have to focus on his perception to feel the Dreadgod’s power, which rolled through the storm, dominating the entire country at once.
“I am not its opponent anymore,” he said. There was no shame in that. The prisoner in the labyrinth, Subject One, had died. Its power had been distributed among the other Dreadgods.
Not long ago, a Monarch might have been able to kill a Dreadgod. It still would have been a legendary feat, but within the realm of possibility. What stopped it from happening was the cooperation between the Dreadgods…and the knowledge that while one remained dead, the others shared its power.
Sha Miara shuddered at his words, though she must have expected his answer. She had the memories of her ancestors. “I will petition the others, then.”
“The others,” Northstrider repeated. The only reason he was free was because he had no territory to defend. “If not for Emriss Silentborn’s power and preparations, the Everwood continent would bow to the Silent King before moonrise tonight. The Bleeding Phoenix flies for Iceflower, while the Wandering Titan remains on Ashwind. The only continent not facing invasion is Rosegold, and you have a better chance of asking the moon for help than Reigan Shen.”