With a halfhearted shrug of his spirit, Ziel activated the alarm script again.
“You can let him in, Dross,” Lindon said.
[I’m just savoring the moment. You know, if I didn’t open the door, he couldn’t get in? That means I, and I alone, have the power to determine his fate. It feels good. What do you call that?]
“Megalomania?” Eithan suggested.
[Oh, I like that word. Let’s go with that.]
A ring echoed through the home again, and this time Lindon manually sent his own madra through the correct scripts.
Below, the door unlocked.
[Everything I do for fun, you just…crush it.]
“Since everyone’s here, we might as well all go together,” Lindon said. He had to admit, the presence of the others was keeping his mind off of Sacred Valley. They left together, meeting Ziel halfway up the stairs.
“…I could have waited for you outside,” Ziel muttered.
A “cloud fortress” was just a type of cloudship designed for permanence rather than mobility. The Skysworn city of Stormrock was technically a cloud fortress, though on a much larger scale. Lindon thought of them as flying islands more than cloudships.
Though he had spent quite a bit of time negotiating extra speed for his. The basic navigation and propulsion systems came standard on all cloud fortresses produced by the Ninecloud Court, but Lindon had found that many of the exact features were up for negotiation. As long as you were willing to give up a few things.
No sooner had they left the house than Eithan asked, “So, first things first: what did you decide to name this place?”
Yerin gestured to Lindon with open hands, offering him the chance to explain.
“Well, the only cloudships we’ve ever spent significant time on were Stormrock and your Sky’s Mercy,” Lindon said to Eithan. “But many of our memories on Stormrock were unpleasant, and we didn’t want to presume to name the island after Mercy.”
“Aw,” Mercy said, disappointed.
“Ultimately, we felt that this place was a result of our good fortune,” Lindon continued.
“And we’ll take all the luck we can scrape up,” Yerin added.
“So we decided to call this fortress Windfall.”
It had taken hours of off-and-on discussion to land on that name, and Lindon was proud of it.
“Eh,” Ziel said.
Mercy clapped her hands. “I like it! But are you sure you want to have ‘fall’ in the name? Seems like tempting fate, you know?”
“I’m just sad that I wasn’t consulted,” Eithan said with a sigh. “Since I own a third of the island, I think I should at least get a vote…”
Yerin’s sword-arms bristled. “You take your third and walk it half a mile off the edge, and you can call it what you want.”
“It’s a good name,” Lindon insisted.
Mercy nodded eagerly. “It is! I’m sorry I said anything, it’s a good name.”
“How about Eithan’s Rest?” Eithan suggested.
Yerin jabbed at him with her sword.
He slipped to the side and regarded her oddly. “You do know I’m teasing you, right? You have to know that at this point. I find this violence disproportionate.”
“Oh, I know,” Yerin muttered. “It just scrapes me raw more than usual. Couldn’t tell you why.”
Eithan leaned in close to examine Yerin’s eyes. “Ruby?” he asked.
“Her too.”
She stabbed at him again, and he danced away.
Most of the open space on Windfall was rolling grassland. Lindon had initially tried to fill in the open space, but he needed the cycling mountain to be far enough away from the house that its aura wouldn’t interfere with any scripts, and Lindon had been more concerned with the inner workings of the cloud fortress itself than the features on the surface.
Their first stop on the tour was the miniature mountain that would serve as their aura source. It resembled a rocky peak of dark stone, but only twice as wide as the house and half again as tall. The top belched smoke and flame, and if Lindon opened his aura sight, he could see the powers of fire and destruction braided together in coils of black and red.
Altogether, it resembled a smoldering volcano, though Lindon would eventually have to replace some of the natural treasures inside to keep the aura balanced.
There was a flat lip of stone beneath the peak, around which the Blackflame aura flowed. It would be the perfect place to sit and cycle, and if Lindon hadn’t been dragging a party along with him, he would have tried it out immediately.
At the base of the mountain, an open cave yawned, filled with razor-sharp silvery protrusions like teeth. The air glistened with sword aura, but as Yerin saw it, her face fell.
“Bleed me, I’m going to need a source of blood aura now.”
“We can find a natural treasure,” Lindon assured her.
“Or just kill a man whenever you need to cycle,” Eithan suggested.
Besides the fields of grass blowing in the wind of their passage, the second feature to catch the eye was a short purple-leafed tree with pale bark emerging from the plains.
“This is an orus tree,” Lindon said when they reached it. “It’s native to Sacred Valley. This one is three hundred and fifty years old, and it was raised in rich aura, so its spirit-fruits are stronger than usual. You’ll get to try some for yourself once we…”
He trailed off as Ziel plucked the lowest-hanging fruit from the tree and took a bite. Lindon hadn’t even tasted it yet.
But it wasn’t as though he had asked them not to eat any fruit. He was the host here; it was his responsibility to see to the comfort of his guests.
“How is it?” Lindon asked.
Ziel shrugged.
As they passed another stretch of open grass, Eithan explained Lindon’s plan to add a Soulsmith foundry to the space. Lindon couldn’t recall ever having mentioned those plans aloud.
Then they came to a crystalline pool, shaded by broad-leafed bushes so tall they were almost like trees.
Little Blue splashed around in the pool, dipping beneath the surface to slide through the water like a fish. Faint blue spirits followed in her wake, spinning and swirling around after her.
She turned and gave a wave as she saw them approach.
“This is an area of balanced natural aura,” Lindon said. “Sylvan Riverseeds are born in places like this, and they’re said to be soothing for the soul.” He could already feel a sort of invisible pressure lighten just by standing nearby, though he wasn’t sure if that was relief from the constant presence of aura or if he was just starting to relax.
“Oh, you made her a little place to play!” Mercy said excitedly. “She’s going to love this!”
Little Blue chirped agreement, but Lindon’s cheeks grew hot.
“I mean, well, yes, but there are practical considerations too. Unintelligent Sylvan Riverseeds can be used in Soulsmithing, and there are certain plants that can only grow in a neutral aura environment.”
Little Blue ran up a bush and leaped into the pool, landing with a tiny splash.
Half a dozen other splashes followed her a moment later, from the handful of pure scales that Eithan had just cast into the water. The lesser Riverseeds swarmed around them, eating the Forged madra one nibble at a time.
“Fatten, my little piglets!” Eithan cried. “Feed and grow strong!”
Popping her head out of the water, Little Blue gave a disapproving peep.
That brought them to Eithan’s third of the island, which Lindon had been looking forward to. Eithan had a single tree and a hut of his own, but most of his territory was covered in cultivated rows of plants of all shapes and sizes. Lindon saw something that he even thought might be an artificial hive for bees.
“So this is where you got the herbs,” Ziel said. “Squeezed them out of the Ninecloud Court.”