by Will Wight
“It’s perfect,” Lindon said in a rush, forcibly cutting off Dross. He bowed as deeply as he could. “My sincere gratitude. I cannot thank you enough.”
[Something I’ve noticed about you,] Dross said to Lindon from inside his head. [You’re so agreeable once you get what you want.]
“Thank me when you come back alive,” Charity muttered. “It will take some time to arrange the cloudships, and my father is about to ascend. The earliest we can leave is tomorrow morning, so in the meantime I will put you to work. Disembark your cloudship and return to the tower. Dress for a formal occasion.”
Lindon chafed at the delay, but ultimately this should save him time. If it meant two dozen more cloudships with which to evacuate the population, then he could wait.
Charity rubbed at the center of her forehead as though to soothe a headache. “Now, do you have any other business with me?”
If he said he did, Lindon thought Charity might transport him to the bottom of the ocean. “Apologies for taking up so much of your time, honored Sage. We will see you tonight.”
She waited a moment longer, purple eyes looking him up and down. “You’re a Sage yourself now,” she said at last. “Even if you have a long way to go. Call me Charity.”
Mercy sputtered while Lindon tried to formulate a response, but the Sage didn’t wait.
In a fold of shadow, Charity vanished.
2
The cold weight of Lindon’s wintersteel badge hung against his chest as he stood witness in the trial.
This room in the Akura tower of the Ninecloud Court had been shrouded entirely in shadows. The edges were totally black, creating the impression that the circle of people in the center existed in the one well-lit island in a sea of endless dark.
Purple eyes glowed in the darkness, all filled with rage, all focused on the three figures bound and kneeling in the middle.
Meira, Underlady of the Seishen Kingdom, looked largely unharmed. Her gray hair, unfitting for her age, hung messy behind her, but her skin was untouched. Her pink flower Goldsign shone over one ear.
Her eyes were weary, fearful, and resigned over the gag that trapped the entire lower half of her face. It was a contraption of metal and scripted leather, and it suppressed almost as much power as the halfsilver cuffs that encircled her wrists.
An older man, built like a noble bear, was bent and bound next to her. Unlike her, he bore obvious wounds, with blood trickling from his salt-and-pepper hair to stain his short beard.
King Seishen Dakata breathed heavily through his nose, obviously trying to keep up a breathing technique, but Lindon had seen the Akura Overlords carrying him in.
They had not been gentle.
In the worst shape by far was Dakata’s remaining son, Seishen Daji. One of his eyes was swollen shut, his clothes were torn and looked to be somewhat burned, and instead of handcuffs, both his arms were wrapped in halfsilver chains. That had to be spiritual agony.
He wore no complex scripted muzzle, but had a dirty rag stuffed in his mouth to gag him. While he trembled in fear and pain, Lindon would call his expression sullen, even defiant.
Whatever fate the Akura family was about to decide for him, it would be no worse than he deserved.
Akura Charity stepped forward, her young-looking face cold as usual. “Kingdom of Seishen. You stand accused of conspiracy to assassinate members of the Akura head family.” She pulled a scripted spike from a void key and held it up.
It resembled a long tent stake made of stone and ringed with runes, and Lindon had seen it before. It was the spatial anchor Daji had tossed into Lindon’s team to summon the Blood Sage. Leading directly to their deaths.
The anchor would be dangerous to carry around, lest someone else use it to teleport into their midst, except that Charity had sealed off the runes with scripted straps. Only once the straps were removed could the device be used again.
“A trusted witness testified that one of you used this device to summon assassins,” the Sage continued. “The traces of madra remaining in the script have aspects similar, possibly identical, to your Paths.”
Seishen Dakata looked to his left, and the horror that slowly crept over his face was enough to tell Lindon he was innocent.
Because his son surely wasn’t.
Meira’s eyes drifted shut, and she heaved a deep sigh.
Charity continued to speak quietly. “Your guilt is beyond doubt. We are gathered here to decide the extent of that guilt and the severity of your punishment. Your fate lies not in your hands…nor in mine.”
She extended the spatial anchor to her right, where Mercy hesitated before taking it. She looked from the scripted spike to her aunt’s face…then, with obvious resolve, she seized the anchor.
When she stepped forward, she quivered with a cold fury of the sort that Lindon had never seen on her. “Underlady Meira,” Mercy said, “I will address you first.”
The script on the leather over Meira’s mouth dimmed, but she didn’t speak.
“Swear to answer my questions truthfully,” Mercy commanded.
There was a long moment before Meira’s voice came out, heavy as a tomb door and quiet as a whisper. “I swear on my soul to answer you with the truth and tell you no lies.”
Lindon felt the oath between Mercy and Meira as a distant quiver in the air. He had a whole new set of senses now. He would have to get used to them.
Sometime after Seishen Daji got his justice.
“What do you know of the attempt on my brother’s life, my life, and the murder of three other young sacred artists of the Akura clan?”
It was strange to hear Mercy speak with such gravity and hidden anger, and indeed she looked furious, grieved, and uncomfortable in equal measure.
Meira shook her head, her eyes still closed. “I knew of no plot against you or the Akura clan until this moment.”
“Do you believe it plausible that one among the Seishen Kingdom did carry out such a plot?”
“Yes.”
“You know who it was, don’t you?”
“…I suspect I do.” Meira tilted her head slightly in Daji’s direction, though her eyes were still closed. “I warned you, Daji. I warned you and warned you.”
King Dakata lunged against his manacles, coming up short at the chain holding him to the ground. He screamed into his muzzle, only a muffled sound coming from him.
“Thank you, Meira,” Mercy said softly. “King Dakata, you may—”
The instant the script around the king’s mouth stopped shining, his shouts resolved. “Me! It was me! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you all!”
He shrieked in rage, making a show of fury, even snapping his jaws behind his muzzle as though he wished he could bite out Mercy’s throat, but Lindon was certain the anger was just a front.
It was nothing spiritual or supernatural, no working of madra or willpower. The king’s desperation just seemed more like fear than anger.
Mercy’s hand trembled on the anchor. “King Dakata, will you swear—”
“GET OVER HERE!” He craned forward, growling and pulling against his restraints. “RELEASE ME! I’LL DO IT MYSELF!”
“Swear to tell the—”
“KILL ME! KILL ME, YOU COWARDS!”
“Your Majesty, if you won’t cooperate, we’ll have—”
“I’LL RIP OUT YOUR RIBS ONE AT A TIME! I’LL—”
This time, Mercy cut him off.
By leaping across the room and seizing him by the jaw. Her hand covered in a crystalline purple gauntlet, she squeezed across the muzzle on his face, slowly lifting him one-handed until his eyes were even with hers.
The chain binding him to the floor went taut, pulling his arms back by their manacles until his shoulders looked like they were ready to dislocate, but Mercy was filled with incandescent violet rage.
“Shut up. SHUT UP!” Her breathing was wild, her madra growing erratic, and shadows danced all around the room. “What do you think is going to happen? That I’m going to punish
you and let your son free? What about your kingdom? You think if you take the blame, everyone else goes home?”
He tried to speak, but she shook him violently with one hand. “I want you to go home! You understand me? That’s what I want. I am not here for anyone who doesn’t deserve it. Not even you.”
His muzzle blazed purple again and she shoved him back down, moving to the third Seishen sacred artist in line. Mercy tucked her hands behind her back, and Lindon knew they were shaking.
His heart ached for her. She must hate this.
Ordinarily, Lindon would feel the same way.
But under the circumstances, he could pass judgment on Daji with an ice-cold heart.
“Seishen Daji,” Mercy said, “swear on your soul to tell me the truth.”
“I swear,” Daji said. He licked his lips but gave her a bold stare, as though trying to cover up fear with bravado.
Mercy drew herself up, and the pressure of her Overlord spirit built like a thunderhead. “Say the rest.”
“I swear to tell you the truth.”
Lindon felt the oath snap into place between the two of them, and he couldn’t deny surprise. He had expected Daji to dodge the promise like his father had done.
Mercy brought out the spatial anchor. “What is this?”
“I don’t know,” Daji said easily.
So easily, and the oath didn’t stop him.
Was it true?
Mercy’s eyebrows twitched, but she went on. “A reliable witness saw you plant this, and then our Archlords stopped you from activating a gatestone. Where would the stone have taken you?”
The fear was leaking out of Daji, leaving confidence. “Home. I feared that a rival of mine would use underhanded tactics to get revenge on me.” He gave an overt glance in Lindon’s direction.
Lindon sensed the bond that stretched between Daji’s soul and Mercy’s. It didn’t tremble.
What’s going on? Lindon asked Dross.
Dross returned an image of himself with both boneless arms spread in a shrug. [Reigan Shen?]
It hadn’t taken a genius to deduce who was behind the attack. The assassins had been openly wearing Shen’s colors.
Still, no matter how certain they were, Malice was the only one who could push a grudge against a Monarch. Malice, and now Fury.
Until he ascended.
It had to have been Reigan Shen that allowed Daji to lie under oath. Not that Lindon had any idea how that would be possible.
But the Akura family hadn’t blindly trusted Lindon because of his long association with Mercy. They’d taken his sworn statement and even read his memory of the event…though as far as they knew, that last part could have been fabricated by Dross.
Not to mention that Lindon hadn’t been the only one on that rooftop. Four others had glimpsed Daji in the vicinity, or seen something thrown to the floor before the group vanished. Everyone here knew who the guilty party was.
Even so, this was only the first stage of the Akura clan’s investigation. It would be long and, no doubt, exhaustive.
Daji’s spine straightened, and he spoke with more confidence. “I know of no plot against the Akura clan, and neither does my father. We are loyal, and we do not deserve this treatment.” He glared at Lindon openly now. “I only know of a plot against us.”
Lindon’s disgust ignited into hot, clean anger.
Mercy’s hand trembled on the anchor. Next to her, Charity’s face was a mask. King Dakata was panting, looking to his son with new hope, as though he hadn’t dared to believe Daji might be innocent. Meira simply looked confused. Confused and tired.
The other Akura around the room glanced to Lindon, and he felt their attention on him. His nerves crawled, and in lesser company, he would have felt their suspicion.
But they hadn’t earned their way into this room on combat strength alone. One by one they surveyed him, then returned their attention to Daji.
Who was trying his hardest to look innocent and hurt.
“If this is about my attack on you,” Daji said to Mercy, “I can only beg your forgiveness. It was so long ago, and I pray to the heavens that you’ll find the…mercy…to forgive me.”
Silence rolled over the room like a boulder.
[Was that…was he making a joke?]
Mercy’s expression twisted in disgust. “So then, you swear to me on your soul that this is nothing more than a personal grudge between you and the witness who reported you?”
“That is the only explanation that would satisfy me.”
“You believe he has accused you falsely?”
“Yes,” Daji spat, but then he wrestled his anger under control again. “I mean, that’s the only explanation I can think of. My loyalty is, and always has been, to the Akura clan.”
Daji turned to shoot another look at Lindon, only to see—too late—King Dakata frantically shaking his head.
Mercy looked to Lindon with sadness in her eyes, but Lindon gave her a grim nod. He saw where this was going.
She regretted the necessity, but he didn’t.
He slowly pushed past some members of the Akura family, limbering up his madra.
“Very well then,” Mercy pronounced. “In the lack of further evidence, this must be nothing more than a personal grudge between Wei Shi Lindon Arelius and Seishen Daji of the Seishen Kingdom.”
As Lindon’s eyes darkened, Daji’s skin paled.
Mercy continued as King Dakata started screaming into his muzzle again. “The investigation into the Seishen Kingdom will continue, but first let this personal grudge between accuser and accused be settled.”
“Seishen Daji,” Lindon said quietly, “I challenge you to a duel.”
The other two prisoners were being hauled away—Meira quietly and Dakata struggling every inch of the way. An Underlady in Akura colors but with no purple eyes waved her hands over Daji, and a complex waterfall of emerald life madra cascaded down over him.
“No!” Daji shouted as his injuries knit together. “Why should I fight him? This isn’t fair!”
Mercy sounded regretful, but she still spoke clearly. “What could be more fair? You’re both Underlords. He has accused you of a terrible crime, for which he has provided evidence, but you insist he is only smearing your good name. Very well. Defend your honor.”
“I don’t have—”
“The Akura clan will uphold the results of the duel,” Mercy interrupted.
Next to her, Charity nodded once.
Daji licked his lips, his eyes flitting around. “I…if I win, I’ll go free?”
“If you win, we will continue our investigation as though Lindon accused you out of a personal grudge, which has been resolved,” Mercy said. Which didn’t quite answer the question.
Daji, though, grasped at the thin lifeline he had been offered. “Give me back my swords. And my armor.”
“Your armor was damaged in your apprehension, and we found no swords on you.”
Lindon’s void key slipped open, the closet-sized door hanging in the air to his right. He sent his spiritual sense inside, summoning a pair of swords, which leaped to him with a quick application of force aura.
“I happen to have found these lying on the ground recently,” Lindon said. “Do they suit you?”
They were, of course, Daji’s.
He tossed them to Daji, who seized one thin sword in each hand. The Seishen Underlord hurled the sheaths off so they clattered to the ground. The Striker bindings in each blade kindled to life, and sparks ran up and down the metal.
“He has accepted his weapons,” Mercy said. “Lindon, you may use weapons of your own.”
Lindon folded his arms in front of him. “Gratitude, but I am as armed as I need to be.”
The lithe, wolf-like Seishen Underlord leaned forward, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, swords held low. He radiated fear, anger. Hunger.
Lindon knew the feeling.
He remembered Akura Grace’s cold, lifeless eyes. Courage’s body. Douj
i’s. Pride’s bloody, beaten form as he swayed on his feet.
Daji had caused all that. If Lindon couldn’t leave for Sacred Valley until the morning, at least this was worth some time.
“Begin,” Mercy said.
A bolt of lightning madra coursed over Lindon’s shoulder, but his fist had already smashed into Daji’s nose.
The Seishen prince blasted backwards, his spine slamming into an old man in the audience.
Akura Justice was an ancient Archlord. Daji bounced off his palm as though he’d run into a brick wall.
Daji’s face was a bloody mess, his nose shattered, and Lindon’s next punch broke his ribs and lifted him into the air.
Outclassed he may have been, but Daji’s body had still been remade in soulfire. He twisted in midair and his sword expanded to massive size with Forged madra. He slashed at Lindon, beneath him, with a blade the size of his entire body.
Lindon’s eyes cooled as they turned to crystalline blue, and blue-white pure madra erupted into a dome all around him. He controlled the expansion of the Hollow Domain so he wouldn’t catch any of the Akura clan in it, but Daji’s technique slid through the dome.
It dissolved like dust in water.
Lindon let the cloud of harmless essence pass over him as Daji fell into the field and his Enforcer technique failed him. The prince twisted to land with his legs beneath him, but Lindon grabbed his ankle.
Daji caught himself with his hands, rather than crashing face-first into the ground, but that wasn’t the result Lindon wanted.
So he lifted Daji one-handed and slammed the Underlord back into the ground.
At first, Daji twisted to kick Lindon’s head with his free leg, but the power Lindon had drained from Crusher still flowed through him. The kick landed like a dragonfly smashing into a window.
Lindon smashed him into the ground again.
Daji kept trying to pull his madra together, but under the influence of the Hollow Domain and the trauma of the beating, he couldn’t form a technique.
And Lindon was holding Daji’s ankle with his right hand.
Whenever it looked like the prince was about to finish a technique, Lindon bled the madra away with the Consume technique and vented it into Daji’s back. The force and earth madra came out like a fistful of bricks.