“Apologies, but I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” Lindon said. “Emriss will be fine. I’d be surprised if she doesn’t have her own way out of that prison now that you aren’t watching her.”
Northstrider kept his expression under control as usual, but Lindon thought he saw a flicker of hesitation. Dross cackled with glee.
Of course, Lindon wasn’t being entirely sincere. His primary goal had been to retrieve Emriss, but since it did seem that Northstrider was telling the truth about hiding the entrance to her prison, Lindon pivoted to his secondary objective: Northstrider himself.
“I want you to ascend,” Lindon said.
Northstrider’s expressions were always minor, but this time Lindon read scorn in his face.
“You can kill me,” the Monarch responded.
Lindon nodded. “That’s true. But instead, I thought we’d talk. So before you arrived, I spent some time speaking with you.”
Lindon activated the binding he’d prepared in the labyrinth’s walls.
The younger Northstrider that appeared was very similar to his Monarch self, except of course constructed from gray-white hunger madra. His eyes were not golden, but he had the same stature, the same stony expression, the same ragged clothes.
The hunger echo looked his real self up and down. “You’re still here?” the Sage asked himself scornfully.
“Psychological tricks are not the tool to use against me,” the real Northstrider said.
“You think this is a trick?” Lindon asked curiously. He wondered if the Monarch really thought so. “I’m sure you can sense this is really you.”
“It is a trick nonetheless. My younger self cannot persuade me to ascend.”
“Pathetic,” the hunger echo said.
That word hung in the air a little too long.
One of Northstrider’s eyes twitched, but he otherwise didn’t respond to the echo’s word.
“I’ll tell you what I told Lindon, then,” Sage Northstrider went on. “I intended to gather power until I could force the Abidan to remove the Dreadgods. If this world is their responsibility, they should clean it up.”
Northstrider didn’t respond, but his expression twisted noticeably.
“What happened to me that I would become the one who turns his face from his responsibilities?”
Northstrider’s face returned to its usual stone. The echo continued berating his older self with scorn, but Lindon and Dross could tell what the Monarch was thinking.
He had decided not to be swayed by this. The willpower of a Monarch was nothing to be ignored, even against himself.
That was why Lindon held up a hand to silence the echo for a moment. Even the young Northstrider looked affronted by the gesture, but he begrudgingly stopped in mid-sentence.
Lindon held out a hand to the echo. Just as Northstrider had taunted him by gesturing toward the prison of Emriss Silentborn, Lindon offered him the path to the truth.
“Don’t listen to me,” Lindon said. “Listen to yourself. Your memories are stored here in the labyrinth, but you can take them back with Consume.”
Having mastered himself, Northstrider didn’t give anything away by movement or tone. “Why should I dance to your tune?”
Lindon matched his even tone with a polite one. “Because I don’t have to persuade you at all.”
[Good job not giving it away,] Dross whispered. [If I couldn’t read your mind, I wouldn’t know how nervous you were. Keep your sweat on the inside, that’s what I always say.]
Lindon couldn’t show his nerves, but he was rapidly losing control of himself. He feared the result of a fight with Northstrider.
He wasn’t afraid he would lose. He was afraid of what would happen if he won.
Even now, it was taking a good half his attention just keeping his Dreadgod arm under control. There were no outward signs, but Lindon’s hand raged against the restrictions. It sensed the presence of hunger madra inside Northstrider and wanted to Consume him immediately.
If Lindon did that, he would be taking too much.
He had already gone far beyond his capacity by Consuming the Dreadgods. Taking on too much strength and too many memories, at this point, would only speed up his transformation.
But he wanted to. Northstrider was a reservoir of strength far deeper than the wells he had created in Ghostwater.
It was like burning with thirst and seeing an oasis right in front of him, but trying to hold back from drinking.
Lindon only managed by reminding himself that he wasn’t dying of thirst. In fact, he had already drunk more than he could handle.
But the arm of the Slumbering Wraith always wanted more.
While Lindon’s battle raged internally, he gave nothing away on the outside. Northstrider must have been going through something similar, because he examined his echo for a while before turning back to Lindon.
“What will this prove? It will not change my mind.”
“I’m betting that it will,” Lindon said.
“And if it doesn’t?”
“Then we’ll do things the other way.”
Lindon had no reason to lie here. If Northstrider wasn’t persuaded, Lindon would use force. In the worst-case scenario, he would have to kill the Monarch himself.
His arm struggled against his control at the very thought of killing Northstrider without Consuming him, but Lindon forced it down. He could always Consume some of the man’s power, just not all of it.
In fact, wouldn’t his capacity have increased along with his power? Maybe Lindon could handle more than he thought.
[I don’t like it when you’re having a debate inside your head and I’m not involved,] Dross put in. [If we really do end up killing Northstrider, you should let Yerin do it.]
Lindon’s gut rejected that, even if his head recognized the logic.
“I need your word that you won’t attack me while my guard is down,” Northstrider said. Lindon wondered if the Monarch was just being prudent or if Lindon’s internal struggle had revealed itself.
“I won’t,” Lindon said.
“Swear it.”
“No.”
Lindon folded his arms casually and leaned further back in his chair.
He could attack Northstrider at any time. In fact, it was harder not to do so. Why would he need a distraction?
Lindon let that reality float in the air while Northstrider’s expression cracked into visible anger.
“Fine,” the Monarch said. He strode forward and reached toward the echo of his past self.
Lindon moved in a blink.
Northstrider reacted when Lindon tried to grab his wrist, and their hands ended up striking off one another in a deafening explosion that shook even the reinforced stone walls of the labyrinth.
“What was that?” Northstrider demanded.
“Wrong technique.”
Lindon had received memories of Northstrider’s Consume technique. Dross could model them perfectly. He knew when the man was cycling a different technique.
Northstrider had attempted to destroy the echo under Lindon’s nose.
The Monarch did not respond, but he began slowly moving his madra in the correct pattern. Lindon stepped aside but continued watching.
This time, there was no way out. Northstrider Consumed the echo of himself, which flooded into him in a rush of white and gray.
[I can’t read his mind,] Dross said, [but here’s a simulation of what he’s seeing, based on the memories from the echo.]
Lindon expected a memory, but instead Dross’ eye turned gold and he sported a shaggy mane of hair. [‘Rrgh, I’m Northstrider, and I’m smarter than everybody! I’ll solve this Dreadgod problem! I’ll use their power against them!’]
Northstrider was still in a trance as he sorted the memories, though he could probably hear, so Lindon responded silently.
That was…I do have questions.
[‘Don’t waste my time with questions!’]