Her pained growls turned into laughter once again. “A cheap price for the Temple of Rising Earth.”
The Ninecloud Court voice echoed over them all, this time sounding stern. “By the power of Luminous Queen Sha Leiala, we have restrained you. You are still our guests, but do not take our Court lightly.”
Sha Leiala? Lindon thought.
[Monarch of the Ninecloud Court,] Dross explained. [Do you not understand how to pick up on context clues?]
What about Sha Miara? Lindon asked. Suriel had taken him to her coronation two years before.
[Never heard of her.]
Xorrus bared her fangs in a smile as the light of the Ninecloud Court dragged her backward. “I hope your sister will give my granddaughter some competition.”
Fury turned back to his ship, letting the light pull him away as well. “I don't think it matters. What do you think, Charity?”
Charity, cool as ever, inclined her head toward Xorrus. “I'm sure she will do your family proud,” the Sage said, “before the tournament ends and I kill her myself.”
Xorrus struggled against the light, snapping her teeth, but she was still pulled inexorably away.
As the dragon vanished, and Fury and the Sages withdrew their spirits, Lindon finally drew a deep breath and stumbled to his feet. He was still digesting everything he'd heard, but there was one encouraging fact among them: Xorrus had never mentioned the Blackflame team.
[That's good news!] Dross said. [Maybe she didn't think they were worth her time to kill! Unless she did kill them and just didn't think it was worth mentioning.]
Mercy returned, propping herself up on the staff of twisted black madra she called Suu. She panted as she spoke. “Sorry! I got stuck under the pressure. Did you hear what they said?”
“Sopharanatoth,” Lindon repeated. “Isn't that...”
Mercy nodded. “Yerin and I fought her after you killed her younger sister in Ghostwater. I coudn't tell for myself, because I was too weak at the time, but rumor says she's supposed to be strong.” She caught her breath for a moment and then added, “She might be favored to win.”
A Herald’s granddaughter had a personal grudge against him, and she was one of the strongest in the tournament.
[I wish I could say I was surprised,] Dross said. [Oh, wait, I could lie.]
We'll have to watch her fights, Lindon thought.
[How will that help us when we're avoiding her and letting someone else beat her?]
We want to beat her early. If he could beat her, he could weaken her influence and make it harder for her to get revenge and keep the Blackflame Empire out of dragon hands.
The rainbow light around Fury faded, and the Ninecloud servants in rainbow robes streamed out from the dock to usher the Akura clan inside. Lindon noticed they did their best to keep even their eyes from landing on Fury.
The Ninecloud voice echoed once more, “Now please have a pleasant stay in the Ninecloud Court. If there is any convenience you wish, allow us to serve you. Enjoy our hospitality within your tower for the next fourteen days, and then the tournament begins!”
Chapter 9
Yerin’s master had owned several paintings. He didn’t put them up anywhere, he just pulled them out every once in a while to admire them. Passing over the Ninecloud countryside was like flying through one of those paintings.
The trees had pale white bark and the leaves were of every bright color. Thousand-Mile Clouds were born naturally here, so they floated all around, some as big as islands. Vines and bushes spilled over their edges, or clusters of houses, and winged horses and tiny cloudships filled the skies.
The capital city shone in the distance, glittering like a handful of jewels that spread across the entire horizon.
"Ninecloud City," Eithan said, "one of the largest cities in the world. Capital of the Ninecloud country, home to the Ninecloud Court. In the distant past, they were named by the same culture that named the Blackflame Empire. Among their virtues was a certain philosophy: why use many names when you can recycle the same one?"
Their half-repaired cloudship crawled across the sky to the point that Yerin wished she could get out and push. The jeweled city looked as distant as the sun that rose behind it. "Will we be making it by noon?"
"Noon in three days, maybe," Eithan responded. "If we hope to make it to the opening of the first round in a matter of hours, we have no choice but to trust in the mercy of a greater power."
Naru Saeya chewed at her bottom lip. "I could fly ahead. Unlikely I'd make it by noon, but I could perhaps make it to the city borders by nightfall."
"No point to that," Yerin said bitterly. "Might as well keep limping along. The closer we get, the better our odds that some Herald takes mercy on us and scoops us up."
Still, as the sun rose, Yerin stood at the bow of the ship and stared into the distance. She hoped, she wished, she prayed to the heavens, and she kept her perception wide open. They were competitors in the Uncrowned King Tournament, one of the biggest events in the world. Somebody would come for them.
When the sun burned straight overhead, she knew the heavens were deaf.
One of the crew walked up to Naru Saeya, telling her they needed to set down so that their scripts could restore their cloud. Here, it would be dozens of times faster than back home, but that would make no difference. They might as well take a whole day.
Yerin dropped to the deck, leaning her back against the railing, finally letting her spirits sink to the depths. Here she had lost her chance to measure herself against her master, to compete with Lindon, to see how she rated against the best in the world. And it was all because she couldn't get there in time.
She consoled herself with the knowledge that the tournament stretched over months. At least she would be able to watch the matches.
Somehow that made things worse.
She had tucked her head between her knees and shut off her spiritual perception when someone nudged her shoulder. She stretched out a sword-arm and jabbed it at him, sure it was Eithan. But he caught the limb and said her name in a low voice.
"Yerin. I think you ought to look up."
Annoyed, she glanced up. A shape flew toward their ship, a blur of hazy white madra. She stretched out her senses and felt a blend of ice and sword madra. The feeling of a wintersteel blade.
Yerin shot to her feet, brushed herself off, threw her hair back from her face, and nervously adjusted the sword on her belt.
"If I'm not mistaken, that's your friend," Eithan said.
The shape had now resolved itself into the form of a woman with long white hair, flying through the air after them with no cloud to support her, but Yerin didn't need to see to recognize the madra.
"Is that the Sage of the Frozen Blade?" Saeya asked excitedly.
"Cheers and celebration for us." Yerin inhaled deeply, evening out her breathing.
The last time she had seen the Winter Sage, Yerin's master had delayed their engagement indefinitely in order to take Yerin northwest. On a quest to train her and potentially learn to keep her Blood Shadow under control.
Min Shuei had...not taken it well. Yerin didn't think she'd ever met anyone who wore their emotions as openly as the Sage of the Frozen Blade. Yerin had once seen her cry because a rainstorm was too beautiful.
She would have known immediately that the Sword Sage was dead, so Yerin had felt no pressure to carry the news herself. In fact, she had hoped that she wouldn't see the Sage again for as long as possible. From the first moment that the Sword Sage had taken Yerin back to the Frozen Blade sect, the Winter Sage had never approved of her.
Yerin did not expect that to change.