A silver-edged black arrowhead appeared hovering over his palm. It looked fairly ordinary to Lindon, but the aura of the entire world twisted and fluctuated as all seven Monarchs reacted.
Rather than watching them, Lindon looked to the center of the arena. Eithan, on his knees, stared at the arrowhead with an intensity Lindon had never seen. His smile was long gone.
The messenger smiled at their reaction. “Long ago, the founder of House Arelius created this weapon which he called Penance. It is a penance for its target and, unbeknownst to most, its creation was an act of penance by its creator.”
The House Arelius crowd gave a shout, but Eithan’s gaze was glued to the arrowhead.
“He made the right choice, ascending to the heavens, and he brought this weapon with him. Now we return it to the place of its birth.”
The arrowhead drifted up, flashing black and silver. “Penance was made with a singular purpose: to kill. That is what it does, and nothing less. It can be used to kill one being in this world without error. This, children, is the power of life and death.”
For the first time, he looked to the Monarchs, and he didn’t bother to look respectful. His sneer covered his face and infected his voice. “No doubt you will squabble for this, but the results of this tournament are now guaranteed by my master: Makiel, the Hound. No competitors can be added or withdrawn, the rules must be upheld as before, and Penance will not function for anyone other than the rightful champion. If you break the rules, you will be judged. If you kill or punish the champion for possession of this weapon, you will be judged. Tread carefully, for the eyes of heaven see all things.”
The eyeball on his shoulder shone brightly, spinning to pierce each Monarch.
None of the kings and queens spoke a word. Not even to agree. Now none of them looked so self-assured anymore. Even Reigan Shen scowled through his white mane, goblet forgotten.
The heavenly messenger looked down on the competitors, and his smile was gentle again. “Fight hard, children, and do not let fear hold you back. Instead, let desire drive you to even greater heights. You are the future, and the Hound values the future above all else.”
Lindon stared at the arrowhead. The messenger held a life in his hand. Anyone’s life—a Sage’s, a Monarch’s.
Even a Dreadgod’s.
[Whoever gets that won’t have an arrow,] Dross whispered. [They’ll have a target. Everyone in the world will be after them.]
Even if the heavens protect them from reprisal? Lindon asked.
[Heaven is a long way away. Humans are right here.]
When the world began to glow blue again, Lindon lunged for Yerin, but he was swallowed up. Only a breath later, he stood in the center of a bright-tiled hallway, exactly where he had been taken. A nearby Truegold woman in Akura colors fell to her knees and started muttering.
The Spirit Cloak sprang up around Lindon, and he started to run.
Yerin was now in danger. Whatever the heavens said, the Monarchs and their champions would do anything for a weapon like the arrowhead. He had to gather everyone they could trust and stick together; keeping Eithan and Mercy and Yerin in the same place would be the best way to keep them safe.
And he had to tell them they couldn’t win.
Out of fear of a Monarch’s reprisal, he hadn’t even told his friends Sha Miara’s true identity. The time for that was past; they had to know they were competing against a Monarch.
He had almost reached the end of the hallway when a black-scaled hand shot out from nowhere, grasping at his throat. With the impossible grace of the Spirit Cloak, Lindon dodged.
The hand landed anyway.
It was like a hammer slamming into his neck. He crashed to a halt, choking and gagging past the sudden pain in his throat, his technique dispersing. He sagged to the floor, looking up through watery eyes.
A huge man, at least Lindon’s size, now loomed overhead. His clothes were mismatched and ragged, open at the neck to reveal the rock-hard muscles of his chest. Wild hair spilled down his back, and his face was unshaven, but his vertically slitted golden eyes glared down on Lindon like a king passing judgment.
[Master…] Dross whispered.
Northstrider spoke only two words.
“Who’s Dross?”
THE END
Cradle: Volume Seven
Uncrowned
Lindon’s story continues in…
WINTERSTEEL
Cradle: Volume Eight
Available soon!
Head over to www.WillWight.com to for new releases, book-related merchandise, new stories, and probably other things maybe I guess. Who knows?
Also check out The Will Wight Store , in case you want a T-shirt or find yourself burdened with too much money!
Bloopers
Makiel’s viewing lens flickered to life, a purple-edged rectangular screen that could show him anything in existence.
[Target found: the Soft-Serve Sorcerer, a wizard whose ice cream will make you scream! Beginning synchronization…]
Grumbling, Makiel lifted his remote control. He pressed a button and his Presence blinked. The view on the lens changed.
[Target found: Wedding Wars, wherein fifteen newlyweds charge at each other with maces and shields. Beginning synchronization…]
Makiel pulled out a second remote. “The Vroshir! I’m trying to watch the Vroshir!”
The view in the lens fuzzed to static.
[Target not found. Have you tried changing the input?]
Makiel threw his remotes to the ground.
~~~
The door slid slowly open, revealing the floor and letting in…silence and darkness. No screaming crowd. The shadow aura was thick, shrouding much of the arena, forming a barrier to keep him and his opponent isolated.
When the door lifted fully, the shadow aura didn’t stop him from seeing all the way across the arena, where his opponent saw him at the same time.
Not Sophara.
Little Blue.
Lindon looked in confusion as the six-inch Riverseed charged him on her tiny legs. “What’s going on?”
Little Blue pulled out a knife.
~~~
Something the Winter Sage said caught Yerin’s interest. Was it Sacred Valley itself that had opened the Sword Sage to the attacks of mere Jades? Yerin had always assumed it was the poison. But if there was something about the place...
“Hang on,” Yerin said, “how could a bunch of Jades kill the Sword Sage?”
Nearby, Eithan frowned. “That’s a good question. I wonder why no one has ever asked that before.”
~~~
Pride held out the crown. “This is for you.” He glanced to one side. “I suggest you take it quickly. It hasn't been long since I won it.”
Lindon stood still, watching him.
[It's an imposter!] Dross said. [Get him!]
Lindon’s dragon breath burned off Pride’s head.
~~~
“Oh, you wiped out the Rising Earth sect?” Fury’s tone was light, even conversational. “I see, I see.”
Fury dropped the boulder and pulled his hands back behind him, gathering energy between his palms.
“KAAAAAAAAA…” he shouted. Blue light grew brighter and brighter between his hands.
“MEEEEEEEEE…” The light was blinding, and Lindon could sense the spiritual pressure. Whatever Striker technique he was about to release, it could obliterate the whole city.
“HAAAAAAAA…”
A Forged box of rainbow light dropped around Fury, so dense that Lindon couldn’t see through it.
“Enough of that!” the Ninecloud Soul said nervously. “You want us to get sued?”
~~~
A pillar of rainbow light beamed down from the ceiling, Lindon’s prize suspended in the center: a string of letters and numbers.
“…what is it?” he asked.
The Ninecloud Soul sounded shocked. “I…I can’t believe what I’m seeing. This is a gift fit for a Monarch: a code for Rebel Galaxy Outlaw by Double Damage Games, available now on the Epic Games Store!”