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Dreadgod (Cradle Book 11)(48)

Author:Will Wight

The question was punctuated by the crunch of Orthos biting into a rock.

Ziel blocked out the setting sun with his hand as he looked into the distance. “Guess that’s where we’re headed.”

Orthos squinted and spoke around a mouthful of gravel. “Where?”

Lindon and Ziel had picked it out immediately, but Orthos’ eyes hadn’t been tempered in soulfire so many times. Lindon pointed for his benefit. “Apologies, it’s difficult to see with the sun so close. You should be able to make out its outline.”

“It’s covered in spikes,” Ziel offered.

With his Archlord eyes, Lindon had no trouble seeing their destination in detail. The ancient castle was fortified with black walls that looked as though they belonged in Moongrave, rising to sharp peaks. It had once been surrounded by a great city, but unlike the ruins around the labyrinth, that city had been reduced to dust long ago.

Only the castle remained, protected by the chains that bound it.

“Shatterspine Castle was the home of one of the last black dragon emperors that ruled the Blackflame Empire. The records are unfortunately thin, but it seems that he was a Herald who had a great rivalry with a Sage on the Path of the Last Oath. Their battles over the years helped reduce this land to the Wastelands, but she ultimately won by creating the Grand Oath Array. She sealed his Remnant rather than fight it, along with much of his family.”

Orthos grunted, and Lindon couldn’t tell if he could see the castle or not.

“Why hasn’t a Monarch looted the place?” Ziel asked.

Lindon sighed. “The completed version of the Grand Oath Array was discovered by Northstrider at least two hundred years ago. He used some of its principles to help design pocket worlds, but he didn’t think the Array was worth much besides academic study. Without insight into runes like the ones at the bottom of the labyrinth, you can’t use the Array, much less rebuild it.”

“Anyone who can make headway on those runes without their eyes bleeding has my admiration,” Ziel said. “That’s not a joke. I tried reproducing them last night based on my sketches, and my eyes began to bleed.”

Dross appeared beside Lindon and stared at Ziel. [Do tell. Don’t spare the details.]

Bleeding eyes were much more than Lindon had expected, but Ziel seemed fine, so he continued with his speech. “Emala died in the Dread War, but she first broke apart one of her Arrays to maintain the seal around Shatterspine Castle. You’re after those pieces and as much of her madra as you can find. Even if we can’t manage to recreate the Array, you should benefit greatly from studying her techniques.”

Ziel glanced down to the seething mass of dreadbeasts and ruined stone at the foot of the pyramid. “I know something of her.” Ziel’s Path of the Dawn Oath was an offshoot of Emala’s Path of the Last Oath, so Lindon would have expected no less. “Her scripts may still be intact, but I won’t be able to learn them without guidance.”

[This is my greatest contribution to the cause. You will be bound in chains of debt to me for the remainder of your mortal life.]

“Dross found this,” Lindon said. He tossed a polished stone to Ziel, which was covered in white patterns like spiderwebs. “It’s a dream tablet containing all the memories we could get from her echo in the labyrinth. Apologies; it’s nothing like her complete inheritance, but it should help somewhat.”

Ziel took the tablet with a strange look on his face. “It wasn’t so long ago that I was the one recommending dream tablets for your training.”

“I’m pleased I can repay you in some small way,” Lindon said.

Orthos snorted smoke.

[We send you now into the maw of a forgotten castle of the black dragons, locked in time by the working of a Monarch with skills beyond mortal comprehension. If the two of you can siphon but the fraction of power within, you will soar to the skies…but only if you do not crumble before their mighty will.]

Ziel nodded. “Yeah.”

Orthos eyed Dross. “I liked you better the other way.”

“Ideally, you’ll want to find and trap the Herald Remnant,” Lindon reminded Orthos. “The problem is that the Remnant of a black dragon Herald will be overwhelming for you. You’ve felt what it’s like for me. Start with Truegolds or Underlords weaker than you are, and only work your way up after you’ve crushed their wills completely. I’ve left you the—”

Orthos turned his left foreleg, where a scripted container like a locket had been strapped to his limb. A void key dangled from his neck as well, and he had grumbled incessantly about decorating himself like a gold dragon. “Did you give Yerin this much fuss when you left her?”

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