To the eye, this arrow resembled the last. Its shaft was made of the Silent King’s bone, as before.
What really differed was the arrowhead.
The arrow was tipped with a curved black triangle that had a sharp steel edge. It emanated a wisp of death madra and an overwhelming will to destroy. Its silence reminded him of the shroud that had passed over the world when Eithan had broken his black marble and revealed himself as Ozriel.
And for good reason.
Penance may have been a one-of-a-kind, single-use weapon, but Ozmanthus Arelius had left many prototypes scattered throughout the world. Lindon had been disappointed to find them missing from the labyrinth, but it turned out they weren’t all gone.
Three had been hidden.
Lindon controlled the bow, took aim, and focused on Reigan Shen.
“Kill him,” he commanded.
Then he released the arrow.
Reigan Shen was already gone. The second he’d sensed the power of Penance, he had fled through space. Some of his portals started to close without him there to sustain them, though many of his defensive measures remained in place. No doubt he intended them to slow Lindon down.
The arrow still flew, joined by a flock of copies. Where the illusions met defenses, the defenses were erased. They vanished like popped bubbles.
Until the true arrow reached the place where Reigan Shen had disappeared.
It vanished too.
As Reigan Shen ran from one prepared spatial anchor to the next, he reflected on how correct he had been.
As he’d suspected, Eithan Arelius had left his apprentice a weapon. Of course he had left behind something to kill Monarchs. Something to kill Reigan himself. Ozmanthus would never have left an enemy alive.
At least Shen had been wise enough to make preparations of his own.
When he arrived at the first anchor after Sacred Valley, he left behind a script trap and a construct designed to kill Heralds, created a false portal to leave a fake trail, then quietly opened another gateway to his next anchor.
No amateur Sage could follow him through that, regardless of his weaponry. Even if he could, Shen had equipment that could handle the combined attack of a Dreadgod and one of Ozmanthus’ prototypes.
This escape was one to be proud of. If Lindon did chase him, Reigan could drag out the time the human spent outside of the pocket world. If Lindon didn’t chase, returning to his time-warped hideout, Shen could launch another attack.
No matter how much time Lindon had bought himself, Shen could waste it. The existence of these Penance arrows only meant he had to be…careful.
Shen was about to step through the Way again, letting its currents take him anywhere else, when his spirit whispered danger.
A silver plate, embedded in an intricate platinum bracelet around one wrist, activated. It wasn’t a sacred instrument, but an artifact from the order of Abidan calling themselves the Titans.
A blue shield of absolute defense formed behind him, and Shen felt a chill as he spun to face it.
The shield had stopped a single, black-tipped arrow.
Though the arrow fell immediately afterward, its attempt foiled, there were reasons Shen didn’t rely on the Abidan shield for everything. For one thing, he didn’t want others to know he had it. It was his vital life-saving measure.
For another, it wasn’t meant to be used so frequently. He couldn’t restore its power on his own, so it wouldn’t last forever. Also, its use might attract attention from the heavens, which was the last thing he wanted. Especially now. What if Eithan Arelius could feel this?
But he was glad he’d brought it out now. There was no use to emergency life-saving measures if you died while they stayed in storage.
He straightened himself and took a deep breath, soothing his fear. The arrow had been the only thing to follow him. Even its Dreadgod-generated illusions couldn’t track him through space, and Lindon wouldn’t be able to do it either.
At that very thought, Shen felt the Way shift around him. Only then did he recognize how significant it was that the arrow hadn’t vanished.
Lindon didn’t call it back. He moved himself to its location.
The Sage stepped through the Way, his pale right hand pulling back the string and his left hand bracing another arrow. The halo over his head covered the sky like an Icon, and his eyes were circles of white on pools of blackness. He was a monochrome specter, even the badge on his chest white against black robes.
Those black-and-white eyes sighted down another Penance arrow, and Shen felt fear shiver through his bones.
A fresh volley of copied arrows thundered against the blue Titan barrier. The protection was absolute, but Shen still stepped into the Way and ran from the location.
Like a canny tactician luring his enemy into a disadvantageous position.
Not like prey running from a hunter. Not at all.
5
Lindon called the two Penance arrows back to himself and tossed them into his void key. He was breathing heavily, his head pounding from controlling such power.
[I have a projection,] Dross offered. [We could chase him.]
And what are my odds of killing him if I chase him? Lindon asked.
[Not as bad as you might think! But not…stellar, I’ll grant you. Not as long as he has that barrier from the Abidan. Yeah, the odds aren’t too great.]
How long will the shield last? Lindon drew the bow into his soulspace, which was also a more painful process than usual. The bow didn’t want to be stored, it wanted to be used, and it wrestled his spirit at every step.
[Could be exhausted in two or three more shots!] Dross said optimistically. [Or, you know, it could last ten million more years. We have no way to tell. But we can reasonably assume that there’s a way to break it or wear it down, since he’s not an Abidan himself.]
Lindon nodded and reached out to the thin gap in the world where he’d arrived. He pulled it open and stepped through, returning to Sacred Valley. He hovered over the former site of the Wei clan, where most of the wreckage was in shades of white and purple.
“He’ll be back to harass us if we don’t follow him,” Lindon said aloud to Dross. There were tactics they could use, knowing that; they had reduced Shen’s options enough that he had become more predictable, which was an advantage.
[The safest thing would be to stand guard out here. But, of course, that would be doing exactly what he wants.]
Lindon stretched his perception to the northern horizon. The Weeping Dragon’s storm-clouds had come closer. How long had passed inside Windfall? Had it been a whole day yet?
Without him and Dross, the others’ attempts to advance would be much less likely to succeed. They needed him.
He had turned down the time dilation as far as possible so he would miss as little as possible, but Yerin and the others were still experiencing probably ten minutes for every one of his.
That meant he had to hurry and get back, but now that he had driven off Reigan Shen, the number of people speaking his name in the Valley redoubled. Some were only whispering about him, but others were trying to get his attention, and he found it easy to determine which was which.
Each passing second weighed on him, but he would feel guilty if he left with no further explanation.
“Dross,” Lindon said, “I need you to send six messages. Tell them I’m about to summon them.”
[Already done. Should I tell them when?]
“Right now.”
Without any more time to waste, Lindon reached out to the labyrinth and summoned everyone he wanted to talk to.
In flashes of white light, six people materialized next to him.
In midair.
Lindon held them securely with aura, but on reflection, he supposed he should have given them longer to prepare.