The man and his former Blood Shadow glared at each other as though they’d both rather cross swords than words, but Yerin couldn’t decide which of them disgusted her more.
Redmoon was the twisted opposite of Red Faith. Just like Ruby had looked like Yerin’s own reflection in a red-tinted mirror, the two were twins at their core. But the Herald’s hair was bright red, his skin was tinged pink, and his Goldsigns were two streams of white leading down from his eyes instead of scarlet.
Both men ignored her, focused on one another, and chewed on their thumbs with identical expressions.
“Our minimum goal has been met,” the Sage said. “The Phoenix was released, and its power increased thanks to the resonance with Subject One. With the removal of his core binding, Subject One will not reconstitute for years, so he cannot interfere with us. It is safe within acceptable limits to offer our services against the Phoenix.”
The Herald picked up speaking in the same voice, and though they disagreed, to Yerin it sounded like one man arguing to himself. “And how many of us do you imagine will work against the Bleeding Phoenix? We cannot advance our goals without the support of an organization, and to oppose the Phoenix is to bring the end of Redmoon Hall.”
“Then should we seek support from the Bleeding Phoenix?”
“It is intelligent enough now. We should learn its will.”
“I do not worship the Phoenix as your followers do.”
“Many of our Hall are true believers. And who can blame them for worshiping a greater power?”
The Sage of Red Faith sneered. “It is the act of a fool to hang one’s own fate on the mercy of a Dreadgod.”
The Herald Redmoon mimicked his expression exactly. “Then should we seek the mercy of our jailers, or should we remain imprisoned?”
It was confusing enough to track their conversation, but Yerin had pieced enough of it together to have some idea of what was going on. After Lindon had banished Reigan Shen and the Dreadgod cults from Sacred Valley, Redmoon Hall had separated from the other cults, only to find themselves stuck.
They were pinned between two Monarchs: Akura Malice and Northstrider. Both had warned them, somehow, that they should stay where they were and make no attempt to contact the Phoenix.
The only thing Yerin didn’t understand was why the Monarchs hadn’t just wiped them out. If she had traveled here with Lindon only to find Redmoon Hall reduced to kindling and scarlet smears, she wouldn’t have shed a tear.
Anyway, apparently the Sage wanted to offer their services fighting against the Phoenix, while the Herald wanted to contact the Dreadgod and trade their loyalty for freedom.
Which put Yerin in the very strange position of being on the same side as the Sage of Red Faith.
Though Yerin had done nothing, not even moved her madra, both heads snapped to her at the same time. It was a struggle not to draw Netherclaw.
“Here is one matter even you should see clearly,” the Sage said.
“Agreed,” Redmoon responded. “I will thoroughly record her experiences for analysis and collect madra samples. You—”
“You think I would trust this operation to a Herald?” The air around Red Faith boiled, and he seemed closer to throwing techniques than at any point since entering the room. “My drudge is more qualified to perform this operation than you are. I was analyzing spiritual composition before the Phoenix laid your egg.”
“You are notoriously unreliable,” the Herald said coldly. “If you harm the subject, not only would that cost us her willing cooperation, but we also cannot ignore the threat of reprisal.”
“When have I ever placed my project in existential danger? What about you, who seeks the Phoenix’s favor? What if it demands you turn her over to satisfy its hunger?”
Redmoon hissed but waved a hand. “Conceded. I will trust you this far, but if you betray our project, I will be sure all those in the Hall—and the heavens, if necessary—know who is responsible.”
“I take responsibility for all my mistakes.” Red Sage gave his former Blood Shadow a pointed look. “All of them.”
The Herald didn’t bite the hook, but the air between them was thick. Blood aura seethed around both of their angry spirits.
From beginning to end, Redmoon hadn’t said a word to Yerin. She raised a hand. “Real treat to meet you,” she said.
Then the Blood Sage marched past her, and she followed him.
He led her down a hall to a room crowded with materials that reminded her of the tools she’d seen in the depths of the labyrinth. She hesitated to even set foot in the room, considering the death aura that hovered in the air, but the Blood Sage didn’t consider her hesitation at all.