Lindon put the Dreadgod to their backs and directed all his power to propulsion.
Their fortress shot forward.
Scripts inside manipulated aura to control air and gravity, preventing the inhabitants from pitching over at the sudden acceleration. He followed one of Charity’s owls due east, chasing silver-purple tailfeathers.
He felt like he’d bared the back of his neck to a hungry tiger. It could strike at any second.
Sweat trickled down his back and his forehead, and he kept his eyes flicking between the window to the front and the projection of the Titan behind them. It didn’t seem to be bothered by their presence, maintaining its hunger technique, but they wouldn’t be out of danger until they were many miles away.
Charity stayed behind, next to the portal, as purple cloudships emerged one at a time and streaked after Lindon.
The Heart Sage floated in place with her shield raised, vigilantly watching the Dreadgod. It wasn’t long before half the cloudships had emerged from the portal, trailing behind them like ducklings.
Lindon’s fear started to fade into exhilaration. They’d made it. They were okay.
Then, in an inexorable tectonic shift, the Wandering Titan stood up.
Madra cycled through the Dreadgod’s body, and in the same instant, their cloud fortress was buffeted in midair. The protective scripts screamed as they resisted an invisible assault, the projection construct fuzzing into chaos so that Lindon could no longer see what was behind them.
They were under attack.
It took all of Lindon’s spirit to steady their flight and recover their path. He couldn’t believe they’d survived one hit, but that certainly wasn’t all the Dreadgod could do. That must have been only a glancing blow.
When the projection construct recovered, it showed them the Wandering Titan again.
It had turned a bit to its right, taking one long, slow stride that crossed the entire space where Sky’s Edge had once stood.
Lindon’s breath came in tight gasps.
The Dreadgod hadn’t noticed them at all.
Shields of purple-and-silver madra faded from where Charity had protected the string of ships behind them, but for one cloudship, even her power hadn’t been enough. It was a pile of smoking rubble on the ground below as though the Titan had swatted it out of the sky.
But the Wandering Titan had done no such thing. It had only cycled its madra for a brief instant. That was no more threatening than taking a breath.
They had taken casualties from the Dreadgod doing nothing.
Lindon felt the lost lives of the unknown Akura Golds settle on his conscience like a lead weight. He hadn’t known anyone on the cloudship’s crew, but they wouldn’t have been here if not for him.
As they flew into the distance, leaving Charity watching the colossal monster behind them, the tension slowly deflated. In its place was only cold dread.
No one spoke.
There was really nothing to say.
4
Miles of countryside slid by beneath their fortress, but not fast enough for Lindon.
If he took Eithan’s cloudship, he could reach Sacred Valley much faster, and he’d considered it. But that would mean abandoning the Akura cloudships to defend themselves.
While he and Eithan and Yerin could handle anything they might run into on the way, the Golds might be in trouble without their help. They were under his protection, so he wouldn’t leave them.
No matter how much he wanted to run ahead.
It was possible he could prepare the people of Sacred Valley for the arrival of the cloudships if he arrived first, but it was equally possible they wouldn’t listen to him on his own. There was little he could actually do to help without the fleet of Akura cloudships.
Home seemed to linger in Lindon’s head, as though he could feel Sacred Valley burning like a signal-flare in the distance. He even felt Orthos’ presence more strongly than usual, so the turtle must be in the western Blackflame Empire somewhere.
Orthos’ spirit only made Lindon’s impatience worse. Was Orthos all right? Was he in the path of the Dreadgod? Would he be able to make it away in time?
Lindon had very little need to direct the fortress once their course was set—they were simply making a beeline for Sacred Valley. But he still left Dross at the controls just in case.
[I will take this responsibility as an honor and a privilege. Don’t worry about anything! Think about it as if you yourself were still…oh hey, I don’t know that mountain. Should we stop for a minute and check it out? Just a second, honestly.]
“Stick to the course.”
[Right, yes, of course. Sticking to the course. Unless there’s a really good reason not to.]
Lindon almost took over the panel again.
He needed something to distract him, so he turned to Yerin. “I haven’t had a chance to take a tour of the fortress yet. How about you?”
“Sensed it, haven’t seen it. Let’s walk it out.”
That brightened Lindon’s mood. He wasn’t certain he would be able to enjoy himself with the destruction of Sacred Valley looming over him, but at least a tour with Yerin was something to look forward to.
He felt Eithan’s presence before the door to the second floor swung open, and Yerin was already yelling. “Not a candle’s chance in a rainstorm.”
Eithan slowly edged around the door, so they could see one eye and half his grin. “We could say that I’m taking my own tour. Separately, just…right behind you.”
“Do you really need a tour?” Lindon asked. “Can’t you see everything from here?”
“I can. Everything. Always. But the others aren’t so lucky.”
At first, Lindon assumed he meant Ziel. The word “others” only penetrated when Eithan let out a pulse of pure madra that was clearly a signal.
Shadow madra eased its way free as someone dropped a veil. “We made it!” Mercy cried from downstairs.
“Couldn’t tell you why that needed to be a surprise,” Yerin muttered.
Eithan beamed. “Isn’t it more fun when you don’t know?”
Mercy rushed up to the second story, immediately leaning on Suu to give them an apologetic bow. “I’m so sorry, I wanted to warn you, but Eithan’s message said he wanted it to be a surprise…”
Lindon was more than happy to have Mercy along, but he remained a little puzzled. “Apologies, Mercy, but doesn’t your family need you? Not that you aren’t welcome aboard!”
“You can have Eithan’s spot,” Yerin agreed.
Mercy rubbed the back of her head and laughed awkwardly, in a manner that reminded Lindon vividly of Fury. “Yeah, well, Pride made it clear that he doesn’t really need me around. With Uncle Fury gone, there’s a lot to be done, but I just…I told Aunt Charity they’d have to get along without me for a few days. This might be my last chance to go out with you all, you know? I want to see it through to the end.”
To the end.
At a certain point, Mercy was going to have to separate from the rest of them. She had responsibilities to her family that the rest of them didn’t.
But he was still glad she’d delayed that moment again, so she could be with him when he put Suriel’s vision of the future to rest. When he settled everything, once and for all.
He dipped his head in a silent apology, but next to him, Yerin snorted.
“Last chance? You think they’ll haul you back from spending time with the youngest Sage and some kind of tiny Herald? Your mother’s going to shove us down your throat until you’re sick of us.”
Mercy ran over to throw her arms around Yerin’s neck, but Lindon’s attention was grabbed by a bright ring. It didn’t sound like a bell so much as the resonant sound of a script activating.
“I believe Ziel wants in,” Eithan put in, though Lindon had already sensed the same thing.
Dross activated a projection construct, showing the image of Ziel slumped at their front door. A gray cloak hung from his shoulders, and he was leaning with his forehead against the doorframe, his emerald horns digging into the wood.