[The fact that you haven’t learned to count me by now proves to me that you are irredeemable and will never amount to anything.]
Only when Lindon had scanned the next room with his perception and was satisfied that Reigan Shen wasn’t lurking within did he move forward. Eithan had already strolled down, hands in his pockets.
Lindon had to stop his expectations before they rose too high. This should be the deepest room Ozriel had left behind in the labyrinth, which meant that it was likely to hold his Soulsmith inheritance.
He hadn’t sensed anything like that in the room, which didn’t necessarily mean it wasn’t there. The inheritance could easily be inactive, or sealed, or veiled behind a script, or…
His thoughts crashed to a halt when he entered the room.
The chamber had been raided. Ornate, scripted chests stood open, and Lindon could still feel residual power emanating from inside. Powerful treasures had been hidden there, not long ago.
A nearby projection table had once housed a dream tablet, but it was now broken. No one would view the memory again. A shelf full of labels had once held books and scrolls dating back centuries, if not millennia. Every one of them missing. Some had been sealed away to preserve them, and others had been protected so that their power didn’t disturb visitors.
There was another display hanging on the wall that showed triangular indentations—more of Penance’s prototypes would have waited here. They were all missing.
But there was one central feature of the room that Lindon had not overlooked. A shrine against the back wall, holding a cut gem the size of Lindon’s head. From everything Lindon had read, and heard—and from what he could still sense—this had been a Soulsmith inheritance. Ozmanthus Arelius had left the sum total of his Soulsmithing knowledge for future generations here.
The crystal was cracked. Dream madra still leaked from the fissure, dissipating in the air.
With Dross’ help, Lindon could still read a flickering memory here or there. Not enough to form an image; they were mostly impressions, half-formed thoughts, or emotional reactions. They didn’t make a clear picture.
Lindon stared at it.
“I can’t fix you,” he said aloud.
Dross spun out, tiny crown displayed proudly on his head. [What is there to fix? You should be concerned instead that you missed the chance to increase my power!]
“Apologies,” Lindon whispered. He wasn’t apologizing to this Dross, but to the old one. The real one.
Eithan looked around, hands still in his pockets. Lindon didn’t think much of it, but on some level he still found it strange that Eithan wasn’t more interested in records of his ancestors. Instead, he looked almost fond.
“Don’t give up yet,” Eithan said cheerily. “There should still be a way. Reigan Shen, for instance, always carries top-notch loot perfect for any Soulsmith.”
Lindon’s voice was dull. “Gratitude, but I’m all right. It would have been beyond difficult even if I did get Ozriel’s inheritance. By the time I comprehended the techniques and learned to use them, chances are it would be too late.”
“The theory is fairly straightforward, if difficult to execute. You have to realign Dross’ structure in the same manner as before. Something like this Soulsmith inheritance would make it easier, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible.”
“I know that. I tried. I looked. I couldn’t tell what he was like before.”
Even Dross hadn’t remembered what his alignment was. As he’d put it, Have you ever paid attention to the exact order of your own bones?
“There should be small hints in each piece. It’s one of the many areas in which enhanced perception comes in handy.” Eithan shrugged. “I’m always reluctant to tear off a piece of my spirit, but once we get out of here, you could Consume from me and borrow my bloodline legacy. I think you could do it.”
Lindon looked around the room. There was no exit, and he could feel power gathering in the walls. The labyrinth was going to use its trump card, whatever that was.
He was going to have to use the last of his power to blast a way out, and when he did, they’d just leave. Whatever it was that drove him forward, he had just run out.
“Gratitude, Eithan.” And because that didn’t feel like enough, Lindon pressed his fists together and bowed. “Thank you.”
Eithan lifted his eyebrows. “What was that for?”
“I think I understand how you feel, now.” Lindon stared past the broken jewel. “When you’re strong enough to move forward on your own, the only thing you can’t do is bring others with you.”