Jai Long's breath came faster. He'd known the Patriarch was reaching the end of his lifespan, but if he said five years, that meant it was more likely two or three. The old man had always been one to exaggerate facts for his benefit.
“Even with the spear?” Jai Long asked politely. For his sister’s sake, he resisted the urge to laugh in the Underlord's face. There were hundreds of thousands of loyal Jai clan members, and he couldn't find one among them who measured up to Jai Long.
He hoped the regret burned.
“The spear is a wonderful tool, but a tool is all it is. Advancing to Underlord requires an element of insight, of inspiration, that no weapon can provide. Increasing and purifying your madra will take you to the limits of Gold, but no further.”
The old man spun the spear at minimum speed, agonizingly slow, but every motion fluid and perfect. Centuries of training engraved their habits deeply.
Neither Gokren nor Jai Long made a single sound between them. Every second he wasted was another breath for them to live.
“If any of my elders could replace me as Underlord, they would have already,” Jai Daishou said as he danced with his spear. “The Ancestor’s Spear will not allow them to bridge that gap. I once had many possible successors, and one by one, they have failed me. So I come back to you…with my help, you could be Underlord in another year.”
A tiny hope joined anger, despair, and humiliation in the war inside Jai Long's heart.
“You will only guard the clan in my absence, of course, you will not succeed it. You are a stopgap measure, a deterrent to keep the jackals at bay until a true heir can be raised from the Path of the Stellar Spear. Swear your soul to my control, utterly and completely, and you are a tool that can be used.”
He came to a stop, swung the spear up to rest on his shoulder, and looked down on Jai Long. Waiting.
“My sister,” Jai Long grated out.
“As the only sibling of our clan guardian, of course she will have access to the very best treatment the Jai can produce.”
Jai Long inclined his head. “On my soul and my power,” Jai Long said, “I swear to take no action against the Jai Patriarch or the Jai clan, to follow the orders of the Jai Patriarch absolutely, and to act always in the best interests of the Jai clan.”
His soul tightened, restricted by his words, but a true oath always had two sides.
Jai Daishou spoke immediately. “In return, I swear on my soul and on my power to protect Jai Long and Jai Chen as my own children, so long as their loyalty remains true.”
This was a flimsy shield, but a shield nonetheless. Far more of a protection than he and Jai Chen had ever had on their own in the wilderness.
All his madra tensed, as though a knot had been tied around his soul, but then the sensation eased. Jai Long let out a breath.
Though a voice in his head cursed him as a coward, he shook with relief. His concern for his sister had drowned out everything else, but he hadn’t wanted to die. At least living as a Jai clan dog would lead to a cure for Jai Chen.
Jai Daishou tucked the Ancestor’s Spear under one arm. “You’ve gotten enough use out of this. It won’t raise any Underlords, but I can always use more Truegolds.” He glanced down at Sandviper Gokren as though regarding something he’d tracked in on the tip of his shoe. “Now then. That was sensitive information you just witnessed.”
A cloud darkened Jai Long’s relief. He had been so focused on the discussion that it hadn’t occurred to him to think about their audience.
The Patriarch crooked his finger, and Jai Long staggered to his side, pulled up by a compulsion so strong it was almost physical. “Underlords may be blessed by the heavens, but we are far from saints. When it becomes necessary, we must dirty our hands.”
The old man clasped his hands behind his back and turned toward the light disappearing over the peak where the sun had died. He said nothing else.
Jai Long gathered his madra and looked down at Gokren. The Sandviper’s skin had paled, and there was fear in his eyes.
Fear and resentment. He had never seen his son avenged.
“Let him swear loyalty,” Jai Long said. It was a stretch of his luck, and Jai Daishou might strike him down for sheer impudence, but he had to try. It was the least he could do for the man who had risked the existence of his sect to follow him here.
The Underlord half-turned and showed Jai Long a cold smile. “Exercise your own judgment and do as you wish. But I will not be burdened by the weight of extra oaths.”
Jai Daishou turned his back again, long metal strands of hair swinging behind him. “But hurry,” he said. “I have a task for you.”
Jai Long spoke before the Patriarch could change his mind. “Sandviper Gokren, I swear on my soul and on my power that I will have you executed…if you repeat a word of anything that happened here today, or betray us to our enemies.”
Gokren brightened, straightening his back. “On my soul and my power, I swear not to divulge a word of your conversation with the Jai Patriarch, nor to provide any information or assistance to your enemies. I offer my life as forfeit.”
The oath tightened, and Jai Long bowed to the Jai Underlord’s back. His role now was to wait for instructions.
“Eithan Arelius’ disciples are challenging the Blackflame Trials,” Jai Daishou said.
Since the fall of the Blackflame family, their Trials had been used to train students from many Paths. Those with the proper access keys could activate the Trials even without Blackflame madra, and the course would challenge any Lowgold, not just one on the Path of Black Flame.
The Naru clan only permitted a handful of disciples to use the Blackflame Trials each year, but the Arelius family kept the course defended and maintained. It made sense that they would have access, though using the Trials without permission sounded unwise.
Most Underlords would never defy the imperial family, but Eithan Arelius…
“The Arelius Patriarch acts on his own whims,” Jai Long said. “Unless…is one of his disciples a descendant of the Blackflames?”
If so, that was truly chilling. A new sacred artist on the Path of Black Flame would be a scandal to shake the Empire.
Jai Daishou turned back and regarded his descendant with scorn. “Certainly not. The only Blackflame they have is that insane turtle, and he’s too old to form a contract. But the truth is bad enough. If Eithan Arelius thinks it is worthwhile to risk Naru displeasure by opening the Blackflame Trials, then he must believe his student has a chance against you.”
Jai Long tried to fit that information into any form that made sense, but failed. Wei Shi Lindon was an Iron. Even if they fed him scales instead of food and elixirs instead of water, they could at best advance him to Jade. If the heavens themselves descended on his behalf, perhaps he could make Lowgold. Jai Long wouldn’t retreat from a duel with ten Lindons.
“I will not risk a future Underlord in a duel that the opponent has any chance of winning,” Jai Daishou said calmly. “That would be an absurd gamble with nothing to gain: you earn us no respect if you win, and endless shame if you lose.” Gokren’s face twisted in rage, but he bottled it up before he got himself killed.
“Patriarch, I am far more than—” Jai Long began, but the Underlord cut him off with a smug smile.
“I have another plan. Recruiting you was my final step, and now we can begin.” He turned to walk away, gesturing for Jai Long to join him.