[He’s calling for help,] Dross said.
Lindon felt the same thing.
Orthos and Little Blue spread out. Blue whistled sadly.
“Just when we were getting along,” Orthos said. He cracked knuckles and snorted smoke from his nose.
“We still can,” Lindon added. “We don’t have anything against you, Gryth.”
Gryth rolled his jaw as though chewing on something. “Uh-huh. Keep your energy still for me, Lindon. We’ll get this sorted out.”
“You understand my concern when I feel weapons moving closer. I don’t want to start out on the wrong foot, but I will defend myself.” The crowd had cleared out quickly, and steel shutters were slamming closed one by one over the windows of nearby buildings.
Gryth’s expression grew colder. “We don’t want to kill you, but don’t push it. Resisting will only make things harder. We’ve taken in Monarchs before.”
“Have you?” Lindon murmured.
Hostile intention locked onto him from several angles as two flying metal vehicles crested nearby buildings. He felt them target him, their attention crawling over his skin like points of heat.
Launcher constructs—or whatever they were called on this world—filled with power and activated.
Lances of orange light slammed into floating shields. Three Shells of the Titan orbited Lindon, and while these foreign weapons were powerful, they couldn’t break through a Dreadgod defense.
Orthos’ eyes flared red. “Those were not meant to capture.”
“You can’t tell me you think that would have killed him,” Gryth said. He rolled his neck. “That was a warning shot. Last chance.”
“I would be happy to leave right now,” Lindon said quietly.
Gryth snorted and tapped a device strapped to his wrist.
Circles of alien script appeared around him, ringing his body. Mechanical weapons, like launcher constructs made of metal, slipped out of a pocket space to target the three of them.
Lindon’s sense of them was strange. The machines didn’t run on madra, so it was hard to tell how powerful they were. Their energy seemed no stronger than an Underlord’s, but he still felt a clear sense of threat.
So, in an unknown world in the face of an unknown threat, he summoned his armor.
Scales of the Weeping Dragon poured over him, crackling with lightning. Wavedancer and its eight clones shone blue-and-gold as they spread out behind him. Three black shells circled around him, a vast white halo covered his head, and a cloak of liquid blood spilled from his shoulders.
He hadn’t been sure what effect the Dreadgod weapons would have on a world with no vital aura, but he found it was still dramatic. The shuttered windows squealed as though the metal were under pressure, dust blasted out from Lindon’s feet, and the air howled away.
The flying vehicles activated their propulsion constructs, struggling to stay in place. Gryth gritted his teeth as he braced himself against the pressure, but his feet slid backwards in the dirt.
[He’s calling for help,] Dross said. [I can’t understand the words, but it’s definitely a call for help.]
Make this quick, then, Lindon thought.
In a second, it was done.
Little Blue and Orthos flew up to the metal vehicles. Blue dodged a laser and slapped an Empty Palm through the entire carriage. Its power failed and it began to fall, though she caught it and drifted it down to the top of a nearby building.
Orthos was less gentle. He took a hit from the orange light, slapping it away with one hand, and then gutted the vehicle before tossing it to the ground. The pilot survived to crawl away, fortunately. Lindon didn’t want to start killing people when he’d accidentally shown up in their city.
Lindon, meanwhile, had reached out to grab Gryth by the throat.
None of the man’s defenses had mattered in the slightest. The script-rings swirling around him shattered like spun sugar, and several other less-visible defenses crumbled in the face of Lindon’s authority.
“I’m still willing to leave,” Lindon said through his helmet.
Gryth was pale, squirming in Lindon’s grip, and Lindon loosened his grasp so the man could speak. “We can still work through this! Planetary Security is coming, and they’ll hear you out as long as you haven’t killed anyone!”
As though summoned by Gryth’s words, a new power bloomed in Lindon’s awareness. His gaze shot to the sky, where a white sun had begun to shine through the clouds.
[That’s bad!] Dross warned him. [That’s bad news!]
“Is that Planetary Security?” Lindon asked Gryth.
Gryth shook his head as best he could while still stuck in Lindon’s grip. “That’s a Silverlord. I didn’t know there was one in this system, I swear. You can’t fight them. Just go along and we can both survive, all right?”
From those words, Lindon couldn’t tell if Gryth expected to die at Lindon’s hands or the Silverlord’s, but it sounded like the value of a hostage had passed. Lindon released the man and began rising into the sky.
“I’ll see if they’re more willing to talk,” Lindon said.
With Orthos and Little Blue flanking him, he drifted up and above the clouds of Kareia, where he got another surprise: a secondary sun hung low in the sky, dim and bluish. Or maybe it was a very bright moon.
The Silverlord was a woman with long, straight, black hair and wearing a circlet of gleaming silver. She tapped a black dagger against one palm, and the head of a giant raven hung over her shoulder.
Not an entire giant raven. Just its head. It ended at the neck, leaving Lindon to wonder if its body was invisible or if it was something like Dross.
The Silverlord looked him over. “Did Zakariel send you?”
“I wasn’t sent here. I ascended from Cradle.”
“Yeah, it’s a mess up here. No telling where ascensions will end up anymore.” She tapped the dagger against her palm once more. “You must be confused. Pack those weapons away and we can talk.”
Lindon took a deep breath. That was a gleam of hope on the horizon.
[At least she’s reasonable!] Dross said.
Gryth had been reasonable at first too.
Lindon pulled out Suriel’s marble and held it up. If Gryth could find it, she could too. Might as well come out with it now. “Pardon, but how much trouble is this going to get me in?”
She shrugged. “Depends. Where did you get it?”
“One of the Abidan gave it to me while I was still in Cradle. I didn’t know anything about your conflict up here, and I never intended to get involved.”
“Did you get a name from that Abidan?”
Lindon considered his response a moment before saying, “Kiuran of the Hounds.”
The raven’s head over the Silverlord’s shoulder gave a harsh caw.
“We’ve gotten off on the wrong foot if you’re lying to me already.” She pointed at him. “Try one more time, all right?”
Lindon only knew the names of three Abidan, and he’d thought Kiuran would be the least offensive. He didn’t know what effect using Eithan’s name would have, so that left him with the truth.
“Suriel gave it to me,” Lindon said.
The Silverlord scratched the side of her neck with her dagger. “Do you know what that means?”
“Not fully.”
“Means I’ve got to take you with me.” The Silverlord was still casual, but she suddenly radiated an air of menace.
Lindon’s heart pounded. He didn’t know what Silverlords were capable of, but he could sense a strange similarity to the Void Icon around her. Like there was a deep, dark emptiness behind her from which he could not escape.
His Dreadgod weapons reacted to the threat. The air screamed around him, lightning crackled across his armor, and the world slowed as Dross increased his perception speed.
Then something else seized his attention. A sudden explosion of energy out of nowhere. It came in a blaze of blue light, and this power created rather than destroyed.