Yerin freed herself from the pile to frown at him. “Never left, did you?”
A red Dross popped out from over her shoulder and waved back. [I missed you,] the other Dross said.
Lindon’s Dross sniffled. [That’s all I wanted.]
Lindon took the moment to compose himself. He had other greetings and introductions to make, but at least those would be more dignified than this one.
Mercy slammed into him just as hard as Yerin had. “Lindon! You’re back! Why did it take you so long?”
He looked over her shoulder to Ziel, whose expression was impassive.
Ziel lifted a hand. “Hey. Welcome back.”
Mercy had already left Lindon to leap onto Orthos.
Lindon tried not to look around too obviously, but he had at least one more long-overdue reunion. “Where’s—”
“Did someone say, ‘Where’s Eithan?’” Eithan cried. He popped out literally from nowhere, his white hair standing in stark contrast to his black armor.
[Not yet,] Dross pointed out.
Eithan beamed at Lindon, holding him by the shoulders and looking him up and down. “Well, well, that’s a fine pair of Icons you have there. Ozmanthus Arelius would be proud, may his name live in eternal handsomeness. And what an aesthetic you’ve chosen! You know I do love bright colors, but there’s something timeless about the stark black and white. We match!”
To his own embarrassment, tears welled up in Lindon’s eyes. “Hello, Eithan. We…I missed you.”
Eithan’s smile shook.
He stayed frozen for another long moment, then he hauled Lindon violently into a hug. “Thank you,” Eithan said quietly.
The embrace continued until Lindon realized Eithan’s back was shaking. The man was sobbing, as Lindon had only seen him once before: when the sky turned black.
He pushed back, trying to see Eithan’s face. “Eithan? Are you okay?”
Tears streamed down Eithan’s cheeks, and he forced a smile. “I just…I wasn’t prepared…to be so proud.” He ruffled Lindon’s hair. “You used my shampoo.”
Involuntarily, Lindon let out a laugh.
“I did it!” Eithan cried. “I have cracked the stone-faced man! It shall go down in history as one of my greatest feats. And look!” He ruffled Lindon’s hair again. “So silky smooth! Such volume! Truly, this is my apprentice.”
Wiping her face clean, Mercy leaned over to Lindon. “Hey, I’m sorry to bring this up so soon, but did you bring us any messages? We had to leave so quickly, and they say we’ll be able to visit Cradle eventually, but it’s been a long time…”
Lindon reached up to a large metal cube hanging from the ribbon around his neck. A void key of his creation, enlarged and reinforced by a generous donation of King’s Key madra from Reigan Shen.
This was far more complex than a normal void key, in addition to being larger and more stable, but it was easy enough for Lindon to control. He reached his perception inside and opened a portal next to what he sought.
A doorway-sized portal opened and Pride marched stiffly out. He held himself up to his full height, the lines of his Goldsign disappearing into elaborate robes.
“I was wondering how much longer you were going to keep—” he began, and then Mercy flung herself into him just as she had into Lindon.
But Pride was only an Underlord.
His body buckled and he flew backwards, and he would have launched into space if Mercy hadn’t snatched him out of the air immediately. “Oh no, I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Restore.”
Pride appeared on the dock, shaken but fully healed. “Did you just forget you were a Monarch?”
“I’m so sorry, I was just so excited to see you!” She flung her arms around his neck, but much more carefully this time. “Is Aunt Charity in there too?”
“Of course not. Someone had to take care of the family.” Pride eyed Lindon. “Someone less grateful than I might say that you took an irresponsible amount from Cradle as it is.”
“I’m glad you’re so grateful, then,” Lindon said easily.
Eithan cupped his chin and peered at Pride. “Underlord? But that can’t be right; you were an Underlord when I left you.”
“Just because the rest of you advance every ten seconds doesn’t mean everyone can. Or should.”
“Nonetheless, the standards of the heavens are high. Don’t worry, though! You’ll be all right with just a bit of training.”
Off to the side, Fury brightened as though he’d opened a thousand presents at once.
“No,” Pride said, “hold on. Wait.”
Fury grabbed his half-brother in excitement. “You won’t believe the training facilities they have here! You’re going to love it!”
“Uncle Fury, st—”
Fury leaped away, toward the planet.
[Have you seen what happens to a person on reentry to an atmosphere?] Dross asked curiously. [Come to think of it, neither have I. Make sure you watch closely.]
“Bye, Pride!” Mercy called.
Yerin leaned into Lindon’s side as though she’d always been there, peering curiously into the opening of his void key. “Got anything with my name on it?”
“As a matter of fact, I have three things,” Lindon said. The first one, at least, he was sure she would like. The other two were…riskier.
From his soulspace, Lindon produced a sword.
Its blade had a core of white wintersteel, carrying willpower to the black metal around it. The edge was a bright, bloody crimson, and the whole thing radiated an endless scarlet light. Its guard was a pair of swept-back phoenix wings.
Yerin’s breath caught, and she reached out for it. “Bleed me, I knew you were bringing it, and I still…What does the binding do?”
[A lot,] Dross assured her.
Yerin ran her madra through it and the blade sang. “Like it was Forged for my hand. Guess it was, true?”
Dross coughed pointedly. [Speaking of which…]
Lindon took out his next, much smaller, gift.
A ring.
It was made of a rare metal resembling silver, but one that could handle the full release of Yerin’s spirit. And it had been set with a small rainbow diamond. Or at least the piece of one; Lindon had carefully removed it from the Queen’s Gift of the Ninecloud Court.
He presented it to her more hesitantly than he had the last. “I know this isn’t…Well, if you don’t like it, that’s all right. But I knew you’d enjoy the sword, and I thought you might want this.”
Yerin’s eyes were wide. She levitated the sword off to one side—carefully—and slid the ring onto her finger, holding it up to admire it in the light.
Eithan leaned over to Lindon. “You know, in some cultures, giving a woman a ring is done when you propose,” he cleared his throat, “a duel. When you propose a duel. In those cultures, this would be a very contentious gift.”
“Not in mine,” Yerin said. She moved the ring to see it from another angle, with Mercy watching over her shoulder.
“Rude of you to decline Lindon’s honorable challenge,” Eithan said gravely.
[You were right, she did like the jewelry,] Dross said. [I thought she would complain that it wasn’t a sword. And isn’t there a third gift?]
“Oh, right!” This was the biggest risk of all, and Lindon moved the void key’s entrance. “Now, I know you didn’t get a chance to say goodbye, so I thought…”
The Winter Sage flew out of the void key, weeping.
“Yerin, I’m sorry!” she sobbed. “I couldn’t help you! There was nothing I could do!”
Yerin looked as though a cat had leaped onto her face out of nowhere, and Lindon reflected that his original plan had been better. He had meant to save this for later, when he could prepare her.
“Surely the Sage of the Frozen Blade wouldn’t leave her sect behind,” Eithan said, as though reading from a script.