“He was a master of destruction madra,” Orthos said from across the room. “Some of these techniques could teach us more about Blackflame.” Lindon realized Little Blue was missing from his shoulder, and she and Orthos had found a dream tablet that even they could view.
Ziel firmed his two-handed grip on his hammer. “I like learning from my predecessors more than most, but I prefer to do it when we have more time.”
Lindon glanced over to the commotion in the hallway that he’d been ignoring. A Forger technique from the Tomb Hydras was actively clashing against Eithan’s layer of scripts. Forged glowing fangs snapped at a barrier of blue-white madra, which flashed into existence every time they attacked.
There were half a dozen sets of jaws attacking, and as Lindon watched, another joined them. The barrier was going to fall soon.
“Can we pry out the dream tablets?” Lindon asked. It would be a real tragedy if they couldn’t milk this room for everything it was worth.
“Not unless we can break the walls,” Eithan responded. Once again, Lindon suspected he could do that, but it would cost him. And he certainly wasn’t willing to flagrantly spend energy and attention with a powerful enemy in the next room.
He sighed. It seemed they really did have to take care of this enemy first.
“Oh, this one!” Mercy said excitedly. “Look at this one!” She pointed to a shimmering purple gem embedded under a set of lines that had once been etched into the stone, but time had wiped away.
Lindon flicked through it, but it wasn’t as cohesive a memory as the others. It was just a series of impressions, thoughts that Ozmanthus had meant to pass on.
Once, it had been a map of the labyrinth.
Dross!
[I have compiled the information, but much of the memory is faded, as this environment lacks a way to replenish dream aura.]
Any information was better than none. And as the labyrinth shifted seemingly at will, a “map” was more like an understanding of the patterns that governed its changes rather than a physical layout.
But there was one thing that stood out even more to Lindon. The wall showed an X scratched into the bottom of what had once been a diagram of the labyrinth. It marked the lowest room.
Ozmanthus’ exact warnings and instructions had faded over the years, but his emotions remained. He urged those that would come behind him to make their way to that room.
That was where he had left a test. And a prize for any who proved themselves worthy.
“Eithan, I think—”
Eithan heaved a heavy sigh at Lindon’s excitement. “What you’re thinking is correct. I formed my reputation with Tiberian on my insight into the first Patriarch’s memories, so I understand him better than anyone still alive. He left a Soulsmith inheritance here.”
Lindon’s heart raced.
“Not his complete inheritance, you understand,” Eithan hurried to assure him. “He left this one behind long before he ascended. But it is still the legacy of a Soulsmith without peer. If you can win its approval, it would be invaluable.”
Lindon clenched his fists. This was what he’d been waiting for.
The outer layer of scripts shattered, and Lindon finally turned toward it with impatience. This was an opponent that deserved his full attention, but it would be tragic if he couldn’t find his way back to this room.
Still, he was filled with renewed motivation to proceed. “It’s death madra. Can we get rid of it from here?”
“Not with the aura as weak as it is,” Ziel put in. “Ruler techniques would be best for such a big target.”
Lindon nodded. Mentally, he went over the constructs and dead matter he had prepared. How could they clear this with the least expense?
“This is going to cost us,” he finally said. “We’ll try to spread it out—”
He was cut off by a roar that shook the entire labyrinth and a flare of spiritual energy. The Forger techniques pushing against their defensive scripts vanished.
Everyone readied weapons.
“Here it comes!” Yerin shouted.
But nothing did.
After a moment of waiting, everyone turned to Eithan. He closed his eyes and extended his awareness.
“It’s tricky to get much here,” he murmured. “But I don’t think its attention is…”
Eithan trailed off, and his jaw hung open for a moment. Then his eyes snapped open.
“Run,” he ordered. “Lindon, we need a hole in the wall. Right here.” He pressed his hand against the wall in the opposite direction of the Tomb Hydras.