Little Blue rang out a question and pointed to the ship. She was asking how powerful Lindon thought she and Yerin could become.
Lindon glanced to Yerin and saw she was considering the same thing. “As strong as you want,” he admitted. “If Yerin can learn Phoenix techniques, she’ll be able to absorb advancement like I can. And the more developed you are, Blue, the more of my power you can handle.”
Little Blue took a deep breath and gave another ringing nod of determination.
Yerin’s red eyes shone as she looked down on the spirit. “Guess we’re in. But I’m going to be firm as fresh iron about one thing: once I learn what I can, I’m stripping the Hall down to their bones. I’ll sleep easier if every chipped scale and chair cushion is in my void key.”
“I like that plan better,” Lindon said. “I wish we could try it first.”
Orthos chewed on a remaining piece of apple stem and looked to Lindon. “And what about you?”
Lindon scratched the side of his neck. “Dross still needs work. He’s my biggest advantage. And I can continue to explore the labyrinth, since I’ve barely unraveled a few threads. I’m convinced there’s something buried there.”
Yerin nodded along. “Yeah. So where are you really headed?”
“Moongrave,” Lindon admitted.
Helpfully, Dross projected an image over Lindon’s head. A massive book of shining violet madra, its cover spinning with elaborate scripts.
“Mercy has been forbidden by her mother to come join us. So Dross and I are going to her.”
“And?” Yerin prompted.
Lindon wished he could give her the full answer. If he really wanted to rid the world of the Dreadgods, that meant going up against the Monarchs. Including Malice.
But there was another, equally true reason, and this one he could explain.
“We think we can modify the Book of Eternal Night. Pride gave us a look at his, and I’ve been inside Mercy’s not too long ago. If I can get a closer look, and especially if I can get the Monarch’s notes on them, I think I can set Mercy up to use her entire Book. She might be the fastest to advance out of all of us.”
As the others absorbed that information, Lindon stretched out his pure madra and activated the lights on the ceiling again. Dross banished his projections.
“If everything works as we hope, we should be able to help the Monarchs fight against the Dreadgod in only a month or two. By this time next year, with a little luck, we could be taking down a Dreadgod ourselves.”
“And you know how to kill them?” Ziel prompted. That had been the main point of delving into the labyrinth at all.
“I do,” Lindon said.
But I don’t know how to do it without the Monarchs wiping us out, he thought.
Ziel held his hammer upside-down and ground its head into Lindon’s floor. That new flame of determination was still bright behind his eyes. “Then I’ll be there,” Ziel said.
Lindon had an easier time getting his parents to wear the protective constructs than he’d expected.
His mother was as curious about their composition and function as he’d known she would be, and his father grumbled about them and expressed some skepticism. Neither of them really understood what the Silent King was, though they did react when he described it as a peer to the monster that had destroyed the Valley.
Still, Lindon’s father had accepted the protection with minimal complaint. That was progress, as Lindon saw it.
The only one left that the Silent King had threatened was his sister, Kelsa. And he knew where he could find her.
Even with the fastest cloudship, Serpent’s Grave was a long trip from Sacred Valley, but the labyrinth’s branches stretched far. Transporting himself from one end to the other was just a moment of focus and an exercise of his authority.
He veiled himself when he approached the city; he didn’t need to sneak in, but if Cassias or one of the other influential sacred artists in Serpent’s Grave sensed him coming, they would make his visit into an event. He didn’t have the time to spare for that.
The Twin Star Sect, it seemed, had grown since he’d last seen it. There were now as many two-colored star banners around the city as those of the Arelius family, and he saw plenty of people in their robes of pale blue and dark, burnt orange or red.
A few recognized him on sight and saluted him, and he waved to them but didn’t stop. The streets buzzed with tension, so he suspected they had heard of the Dreadgods’ awakening, but they still weren’t in any danger. There was little he could do to help them at the moment.