The illusions generated by dream aura, both naturally and as part of the Trial’s intentionally designed mechanisms, didn’t fool him for an instant. He ran through a paper-thin image of a bloody warrior with axe raised, and didn’t flinch at the sound of his mother crying for his help.
He had dissected his share of dream Remnants. They hunted with their spiritual perception as well as some purely mental senses that didn’t translate particularly well to living humans.
Whether they sensed his thoughts or his spirit or his will, they wanted only to avoid his notice.
Dross had been quiet for a while, but he was roused by the lesser spirits around him. [You know, I’ve always wondered what it was like to have someone cower before me. I like it. It’s a lot more fun than being the one cowering.]
The staircase switched directions a few times, but for the most part was a straight shot down the mountain.
Lindon cleared it in minutes, leaping some of the longer sections. He emerged from the fog of pink aura, turning and sighting on the location of the Wei clan. It was close, nestled roughly to the northeast of the valley.
Eithan emerged from the Trial an instant behind him, and Lindon slowed to allow him to catch up.
The Arelius pointed one finger in the direction of Yoma Mountain. “That’s where they headed, but they could have changed course.”
If they really were heading to the base of the Fallen Leaf School, their route would take them past the Wei clan, not through it. Then again, the Heaven’s Glory members hadn’t said they were after the Wei clan, but rather Wei exiles.
Lindon flared the Soul Cloak and pushed his speed.
To his surprise, he quickly left Eithan behind.
Eithan’s Path didn’t have a full-body Enforcer technique, though he had never known Eithan to need one. This was the effect of Sacred Valley’s suppression field.
He was starting to feel some effects himself, but as an Underlord, he would be drained far more slowly than Eithan the Archlord. To his spiritual sense, Eithan already felt more like a Truegold.
Which, he realized, was the weakest he’d ever sensed Eithan.
Lindon cut his speed. He wouldn’t be any good without a guide, though it grated on him to slow at all.
Eithan grimaced. “I’m not used to people slowing down to let me catch up.”
“I don’t prefer it either. Have you found them yet?”
Mercy reached them, flying on her staff, though she lurched and bobbed unsteadily in midair, the aura too thin to support a smooth flight. “Do you know where we’re going?”
Eithan ducked a tree branch that extended over the path. “They passed through here, but it won’t be long before you’ll be able to see farther than I can.”
Lindon had extended his own spiritual perception before Eithan had said anything. Since leaving, he’d kept his spirit wide open.
Orthos’ presence smoldered in the back of his mind.
The turtle didn’t feel any closer now than he had before. Lindon was getting no direction, no clear emotion. It still felt like Orthos was a hundred miles away.
Were they going the wrong direction?
He had to trust in whatever Eithan saw, but he hated how little they knew. What if the Heaven’s Glory Elders had misled them? What if the giant turtle who had fought them wasn’t actually Orthos?
If everything was as it seemed, and a group of Heaven’s Glory fighters had gone after Orthos, then Orthos would be in battle soon. He would give some signal, and Lindon would feel it.
Unless the curse of Sacred Valley interfered with their contract more than he suspected. Maybe Orthos was fighting now, and this was all Lindon could feel.
Dross tried to reassure him. They were doing the best they could with the information they had. But nothing helped his worries.
Until he felt what he was looking for.
Orthos’ presence went from a smoldering coal to a dark, blazing torch. Hot anger covered a layer of cold fear, and it was all suffused with grim determination.
Lindon felt the moment when Orthos sensed his presence too.
Relief. Urgency. Pure joy.
Lindon couldn’t tell where Orthos’ feelings ended and his own began.
And now he had a direction.
“Follow me,” Lindon ordered.
He filled himself with the Path of Black Flame, and the Burning Cloak blasted him onward.
Wei Shi Kelsa had failed everyone.
Heaven’s Glory burned tents and sliced open boxes as they cut their way across what had once been the camp of the exiles that had sheltered her. There were hundreds of them, along with at least a dozen Jades, and they cut down stragglers and those too old or sick or injured to run. There was no mercy, only a burning, golden advance.
This was her fault.
It was her failing that had led her to be captured in Heaven’s Glory. If she had been more skilled in the Path of the White Fox, they would never have been caught. If she were stronger, as strong as Orthos, then they could have won the fight. If she were smarter, she would have stopped them from tracking her back here.
She looked down over the camp as Heaven’s Glory marched onward. Most of the exiles had escaped into the hills at the base of Yoma Mountain. Her father was among them. And her mother.
But they were caught between a tiger and a pack of wolves. The Fallen Leaf School wouldn’t protect them, and this mountain was their home. The best they would do would be to hand the exiles back to Heaven’s Glory.
Her father was with those fleeing up the mountain, but she had stayed back on this hill to watch the attack.
Her three allies—maybe the three most powerful people in Sacred Valley—stood with her. And none of them could do a thing.
Orthos grunted and hauled himself to his feet. The huge turtle’s leathery black skin was wet with his blood. His left eye was swollen shut, he favored his left foreleg, and his spirit was weak. He was running on his last drops of madra, after having practically dragged her back here.
“Go,” the turtle said, his voice like a gentle earthquake. “Hide with the others. I will thin their ranks.”
Jai Chen stepped up on his other side, and her eyes were full of tears. She was a small woman, at least compared to Kelsa and her family, and she looked…soft. In every sense of the word. Eyes, skin, hair, hands, demeanor. Soft.
But she had fought at Kelsa’s side, and soft didn’t always mean weak.
She raised a trembling hand to place on Orthos, but his shell was radiating heat, and she couldn’t touch him.
Her brother spoke softly to Kelsa from within the scripted red bandages that covered his head. “We should head up the mountain to the Fallen Leaf pass. All of us.”
Kelsa grabbed his outer robe and bowed her head. She couldn’t see his face even if she looked up, but she was about to make a shameless request, and she didn’t want to see disgust in his eyes.
“Please, stay and fight. This one begs you.”
Over the last week, she’d seen him in battle. If he and his sister and Orthos chose to fight with her, maybe they could resist even these overwhelming numbers. They could hold a pass, or strike at them and retreat, or…something.
She was already in their debt. They had risked their safety for her, a stranger, and she couldn’t repay them. Now, they weren’t strangers any longer, but she hated to ask for any more.
Jai Long’s voice sounded awkward when it wasn’t cold and distant. “Kelsa, this is…hopeless. Come with us. I promise you, I can get your parents out.”
“…I can’t.”
Kelsa released him and took a deep breath, squaring herself. She looked him evenly in the eyes. “This is my fault.” Behind her, she felt the heat of Heaven’s Glory madra like a wildfire. “I will pay the cost of my choices, but I would be grateful if you would look out for my parents as you leave.”
“Fine.” Jai Long’s icy tone was back. He turned to Orthos. “And you?”