Indeed, one of the memories he glimpsed was a three-man group of Archlords who had bickered and betrayed one another after finding a treasure. Only one survivor had escaped, forever spiritually scarred, to leave a dream tablet behind.
Yerin noticed the same thing, because she grimaced. “Can’t say I’m blind to why my master went in on his own. Not that it’s a shock. My hair would have fallen out if he ever worked with a team.”
“Look at the last memory.” It had stuck in Lindon’s mind, clear enough that it was like Dross had replayed it for him.
A man with short, blond hair and a cropped golden beard sat behind a desk, speaking to the person leaving the memory. There were few thoughts attached to it, only his appearance and his words.
His looks—like an older version of Eithan—and the lightning crackling behind his blue eyes had made Lindon assume at first glance that this was Tiberian Arelius.
“You have the backing of House Arelius to study the labyrinth,” the Monarch in the memory said. “But I expect you to keep that quiet except at great need. I cannot trust any Sage or Herald under a Monarch’s protection, and I’m certain you understand why.”
“That’s clear as new glass,” said the man leaving the memory, and his casual drawl made Lindon think of Yerin. Lindon wished he’d recorded more of his thoughts, because this had to be a personal record of the Sword Sage himself.
“Since you’re going deeper into the labyrinth than you planned, you might consider taking a team. Just be sure you’re only bringing people you trust.”
The Sword Sage laughed. “I was going alone before I heard a word from you. If you’ve got a list of people who can keep up with me, can be trusted, and are itching to run off across the world on my say-so, I’d love to see it.”
Tiberian’s posture sagged, and he rubbed his forehead. “I take your point. If I had so many subordinates who were capable, trustworthy, and unified in purpose, I would have no need to employ you. But please, don’t risk yourself. My advisors and I are simply testing a theory. We should have many years left before this becomes urgent.”
“Wouldn’t that be a treat,” the Sword Sage muttered.
Lindon could see when the memory faded from Yerin, because her eyes focused and she scowled into empty space. “Well, isn’t this a nest of snakes?”
“We’ll need a good plan,” Lindon said. Based on his quick glimpse, it felt like half of those who had gone into the labyrinth had failed because of a lack of information. “But first,” he continued, “I think we should take a quick look inside.”
“Not going to get our faces bitten off for a peek, are we?“
Lindon slipped the dream tablet into his void key. With some study, he might even be able to make a partial map out of those memories.
“Let’s find out,” he said.
They left the Sword Sage’s void space open and readied themselves for battle, facing down the circular stone door leading into the labyrinth.
“Open,” Lindon commanded once again.
His working crashed against the door…and fell apart.
Yerin relaxed her grip on her sword. “Try it harder?”
“This part isn’t supposed to be difficult, I’m certain. It’s just the outer door. There are outer entrances that Underlords can open, and some that open themselves at set times.”
Lindon considered for a moment, then spread his spiritual sense out as far as he could under the suppression of Sacred Valley. He received a clear impression of the underground labyrinth; like a turtle that had entered its shell.
“It’s locked down.”
“The Titan, you think?”
“It must be. We’ll have to check with Elder Whisper.”
Lindon stared at the outer door, wondering if he could break through it. It would be stupid to try; even if he succeeded, he would only be exposing Sacred Valley to whatever was inside. But he felt like they had begun a race, only to stumble at the first step.
“Huh,” Yerin said. “That’s a kick to the face.”
Elder Whisper whipped his tails in agitation as he stared at the sealed labyrinth door.
“I have read of this reaction,” he whispered. “And I have seen times when the Nethergate refused to open on time, or when the labyrinth seems to…sulk, if you wish to put it that way. The cause is almost always beyond my understanding.”
“Not so much this time,” Yerin said.
“Yes. One does assume that the labyrinth has locked itself to prevent further intrusion by the Titan.” A white snout turned in Lindon’s direction. “What else could it be?”