Bloodline (Cradle Book 9)

by Will Wight

  Orthos made a sound like another earthquake. “Your sister isn’t as inclined to forgiveness as you are.”

  “If I had been here, I might not be able to forgive them either.” If he had watched the clan turn his family over, maybe he would leave them here to die, but he had enough distance that he was sure he could handle it.

  Dross popped out over his right shoulder. [Don’t worry! Lindon has me to restrain his murderous impulses. And I’ve seen his memories of this place; his clan leaders are reasonable people. We can talk it out, I’m certain.]

  Lindon wondered if he and Dross had watched the same memories.

  Eithan leaned over at a new angle, judging distance with his thumb, and then swiped another slash of green salve onto Orthos. Lindon didn’t even think there was a wound there.

  “Yerin and I can go to the Wei clan,” Lindon said as he rolled up the map. “We still need people to visit the Holy Wind School, the Golden Sword School, the Li clan, and the Kazan clan. Eithan, why don’t you assign people to those?”

  “Hmmmmm…I don’t know, I might just want to lounge here in the very lap of luxury.” He poked a thin cushion with one hand, shuddered, and remained standing. “I don’t see why I should bow to your authority.”

  Lindon suppressed his irritation. He didn’t want to waste time dealing with Eithan’s sense of humor, but at the same time, he did need Eithan’s help.

  He pressed his fists together. “Apologies. It was only a request, not a command.”

  “Ah, that’s disappointing. Yes sir, I would certainly be more motivated if I knew that you were backing me with your authority. You don’t need to be a Sage to see—”

  Lindon held up a hand. “I understand.” He didn’t know if Eithan wanted to see how far Lindon had come or if he just wanted Lindon to dance to his tune, but he clearly wanted a demonstration of Sage powers.

  Lindon had been looking for an excuse to practice anyway.

  He focused his attention on one of the empty mugs on the shelf, gathering his concentration until only the mug existed. Finally, when it felt like he was pushing through a screen to something deeper than reality, he commanded the mug.

  “Move.”

  The mug disappeared from the shelf and appeared on the table in front of him.

  He sank down into his chair, taking a deep breath. Exercising his willpower like that didn’t leave him physically exhausted exactly, but rather mentally drained. It took intense concentration, and tired him accordingly.

  “And hence he earned his title,” Eithan said gravely. “To this day, legends speak of the Cup Sage.”

  Orthos only had to stretch out his head to reach the table, and he examined the mug curiously. “So this is the power of a Sage. What else can you do?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I plan on doing thorough research after we leave.”

  Eithan pulled a watch from his outer pocket and checked it. “The ladies have yet to return, so it seems that we have a few minutes free.”

  Lindon wanted to test out the scope of his authority, but this felt like a waste of time. Surely there was something else he could be doing to work toward the evacuation of Sacred Valley. Then again, if he could figure out how to open portals or other equally miraculous Sage abilities, that might be its own solution.

  He moved his eyes to Dross. The spirit nodded eagerly.

  “Just a little,” Lindon allowed.

  He focused on the mug again, finding it slightly easier the second time. This time, he wanted to transform the mug into something else. Not anything too complicated, like a living thing, but something similar enough that it might actually work. Maybe a bowl.

  He pictured the mug flattening out, widening, taking the new shape in his mind. His will tightened.

  “Change,” Lindon ordered.

  The mug rattled slightly.

  Eithan, Dross, and Orthos all leaned closer and examined it.

  “I see,” Eithan said. “You have changed it to a different mug that is identical in appearance. Clever.”

  Lindon squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the sense of exhaustion to pass. “That one doesn’t work, Dross.”

  [I’ll check it off the list. We can’t change its shape. Boom, there it goes. Gone from the list. Now how about color, can you change the color?]

  Lindon started to focus again, but Eithan waved a hand in front of his eyes to stop him. “I’ve heard it said that all Sages can accomplish with their authority whatever they could accomplish without it.”

  [Oh, that’s clever!] Dross said. [Very memorable saying, very snappy. Too bad it’s, you know, wrong.]

  “I can’t re-open a portal with my madra,” Lindon pointed out.

  “Ah, yes, let me clarify. There are things that any Sage can do, and then there are things that only you can do, with your Icon and your unique relationship to that Icon. I thought it might be prudent to start with the things that any Sage could do.”

  Lindon watched the mug as though committing it to memory might help him somehow. “Pardon, but I couldn’t transport the mug directly from the shelf to the table without my authority.”

  “I can,” Eithan said, rolling up his sleeves. “Let me show you.”

  His smile dropped and his eyes sharpened. He held out his hands, focusing his will.

  Then he grabbed the mug, lifted it, and placed it on the other end of the table. “Behold!” he cried. “I have transported the cup!”

  Dross applauded furiously.

  Lindon spoke his own thoughts aloud. “So I get the same end result, but skip the process.”

  “That’s exactly right.” Eithan sounded somewhat surprised.

  That was an intuitive connection, but it felt right. There was something missing, though. Charity had opened portals and brought techniques to life. Northstrider had brought back the dead. Those weren’t things he was capable of doing without authority.

  One step at a time, he reminded himself.

  There was a large jug of clean water by the door, where a Fallen Leaf Copper had left it for them. “With my hands, I could fill that cup,” Lindon said.

  Eithan gestured for him to go ahead. Orthos craned his neck to get a better look.

  Lindon concentrated. This seemed to take more of his willpower than before, encompassing both the mug and the jar of water. Finally, when he could clearly picture water filling the cup, he spoke.

  “Fill.”

  Water appeared in the mug.

  Lindon’s vision faded.

  He found himself lying on his back only seconds later, staring up at the wooden beams on the inside of the ceiling. Orthos radiated concern, and Dross curiosity.

  Eithan was taking a sip of water.

  “That obviously took more out of you,” Eithan observed. “Do you—ah, this is crisp. Very refreshing. Do you know why?”

  Lindon struggled to stand up, and he felt like he was speaking through a mouthful of cotton. “It’s refreshing because it’s still cold.”

  The water was most likely melted snow, and there were scripts around the jar that blocked heat.

  “Ah, no, I meant ‘Do you know why you struggled more with that working?’”

  “I had to split my focus.” He was working largely from instinct, but his will had encompassed both the mug and the water. That had made it more than twice as hard.

  “Correct, but there are other factors at play as well.” Eithan took another sip of water and then placed the mug back down. “Try emptying the mug.”

  Lindon shook his head. “Apologies, I’m too weak. I’ll try again tomorrow.”

  “I highly doubt you will find this so exhausting.”

  Eithan must have a point. He always did. And despite feeling like he had just completed a hundred complex mathematical equations while performing a delicate Soulsmithing operation, Lindon was still ecstatic about getting some kind of grasp on his Sage abilities.

  He could try a little more.

  He gathered his focus and spoke the order: “Empty.”r />
  The water vanished from the mug.

  Lindon braced himself to fall again, but he felt nothing. He had ordered the water as easily as he might order a pet. Concentrating to gather his willpower was still a bit tiring, but the actual command had taken almost nothing out of him.

  He understood why immediately, and it was like a light dawning in his mind, revealing an entirely new world of possibility.

  “It’s in line with my Icon.”

  “And it’s something you were capable of doing on your own,” Eithan pointed out. “Emptying a vessel is well within the concept of the Void, and pouring water out of a cup is simple for anyone. Also, you in particular could have burned that water away with Blackflame. Therefore, very easy.”

  Lindon peered into the jug. “Did the water return?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I suspect it did, because when I thought of emptying the cup, I thought of pouring it back into the jug. But that means all I really did was move water from one place to another. So why was that easier than moving the mug?”

  Eithan waved a hand. “You’re thinking about it like it’s a sacred arts technique. You’re working on a conceptual level now. Don’t cling to literal definitions.”

  “If it’s all a matter of perspective, then I can do anything,” Lindon continued, letting his thoughts guide his words. “I could move the mug by emptying the shelf of the mug. Could I heal someone by emptying them of injuries?”

  That sounded ridiculous, but maybe that was how Sages worked.

  “That sounds ridiculous,” Eithan said, and once again Lindon wondered if the man was reading his mind. “Some of those actions may be in line with your Icon, and some of them certainly are not, but you’ll have to feel that out for yourself.”

  Lindon scooped up another glass of water, by hand this time, and concentrated, ready to try again. This time, he wanted to vanish the water entirely.

  “Empty,” he said.

  The mug stayed full. Something had stopped him.

  Someone.

  He had felt the will working against his, and he recognized it. Lindon looked up to Eithan, who was giving a broad, innocent smile. “How did you do that?”

  “If your will is the only one working on an object, you have complete authority over it. If someone else wants to do something with that object, you must overcome their will first.” He took the mug from Lindon by hand and drank from it.

  “As I am not yet a Sage, I can’t do what you can do. But I can stop you.”

  Lindon had hundreds of questions, most of which could only be answered through practice.

  “Dross, can you model this?”

  [Can I? Of course I can! Accurately? No. I don’t really understand the limitations. We’ve seen enough Sages and Monarchs working, but I don’t know what Icons they have connections to, and you weren’t advanced enough to sense what wills might have been working against them at the time, and also being here in this valley tires me out, and I’d kind of like to start fresh in the morning. Maybe several mornings from now.]

  Lindon couldn’t wait. The sooner he could get a grasp on his abilities, the sooner he could begin thinking of new applications. Maybe new solutions.

  He swept the table clear, moving his rolled-up map of Sacred Valley carefully to the side in case he spilled some water…and then he stopped with the map in his hand.

  The ground shook beneath his feet.

  “A few mornings from now,” Lindon agreed. “That should be plenty.”

  Orthos glanced nervously at the earth aura beneath his feet.

  Eithan cheerily raised his mug. “Plenty of time! I can’t think of a single reason why we might need a Sage in the next few days.”

  Lindon snatched the mug back.

  When everyone had returned and gathered around the table, Dross materialized in front of Lindon. He clapped his boneless arms together, projecting a deafening clapping noise into everyone’s mind.

  [We’re going to make this quick, all right? Just listen to me, I’ll give you your assignments, and everything will go smoothly. Focus…actually, that’s too much, that’s embarrassing. Everyone looking at me. Give me about eighty percent of your attention, that should be plenty.]

  Little Blue, seated on the table, turned slightly so that she was only halfway looking at Dross.

  [That’s perfect, keep that ratio exactly.] He gestured, and a purple light shone over the map of Sacred Valley spread across the table. It lit up Mount Venture, the sacred peak to the west.

  [There are four schools here, one on each mountain, and three clans splitting the valley part of the…valley. The school over here, to the west, is the Golden Sword School.]

  He gestured again, and the purple light indicating the Golden Sword School was crossed out by a red slash. [They’re gone! They’re out. Vanished. Complete ghost town over there.]

  The Fallen Leaf School had several methods of contacting the other schools, and some of the Akura Golds had techniques or constructs intended to spy on far-off locations. They were often slow or blurry because of the suppression field, but they all indicated the same thing: the Golden Sword School had left days ago, if not weeks.

  “Where did they go?” Mercy asked, concerned.

  Ziel sighed. “Anywhere’s better than here.”

  “Yeah, but can a school full of Jades make it in the real world on their own?”

  “They’re going to have to,” Lindon pointed out.

  [Forget them, they’re already dead. Probably. But who cares, really?] Dross waved again, and this time a light shone over the mountain to the south. The Greatfather.

  [Holy Wind School, not gone yet, but going. At least there are some smart people in Sacred Valley.] A few images floated in the air, showing the mass exodus of the Holy Wind School. Most of them were carried on the back of a huge floating raft, not a cloudship, that inched its way south.

  “They’ve been trapped here for generations,” Orthos rumbled. “That doesn’t make them idiots.”

  Lindon felt a surprising amount of irritation from Orthos on behalf of the inhabitants of Sacred Valley, which was touching. Lindon rested a hand on the back of the turtle’s head and just enjoyed having him back.

  [Oh, of course, yes. Not idiots. There are two more schools of non-idiots: here at the Fallen Leaf School—] A light shone on the north mountain. [—and the Heaven’s Glory School. The most…wisdom-challenged…of them all. Then, of course, we have the three clans.]

  Three more lights shone in the center of the valley. The Kazan clan to the west, the Li clan to the south, and the Wei clan to the northeast.

  [We need somebody on each of these lights, not counting me, because I’m trapped inside a living skull.]

  Yerin leaned against Lindon’s side like he was a doorpost, arms crossed and Goldsigns fortunately retracted. “Don’t think I’m jumping anybody to say we’re going to the Wei clan. Can’t head anywhere on my own, because I’m two seconds from falling on my face, and Lindon’s been talking about going home since the day we left.”

  Lindon nodded silently. That was the most obvious assignment.

  The violet light over the Wei clan turned into a little picture of Yerin. And Dross.

  [All right, that’s one taken care of. Good pace. Someone will have to stay here—]

  “Apologies, but are you planning on leaving me behind?”

  Dross gave an annoyed sigh. [Anywhere I go, you go. It’s implied. But if it bothers you that much, I can soothe your ego.]

  A tiny model of Lindon hovered next to Yerin. And over them both, like a fat moon, hung an image of Dross. He was much more detailed than they were, too.

  [Now, who wants to make sure the Fallen Leaf School makes it out the eastern exit?]

  “I will,” Orthos said. “The exiles are here, and they know me.”

  And, Lindon knew, the other options required much more flying.

  Little Blue piped up, standing up to her full foot of height and sticking her hand in
the air. Lindon was shocked. She had never volunteered to be apart from him before.

  She turned to look at Lindon, whistling a question, and he nodded. If she wanted to stay with Orthos, there was nothing wrong with that. And Orthos could protect her.

  Then again, she had grown alongside Lindon for a long time now. Maybe she would be the one protecting him.

  [Okay, Orthos and Blue here at Fallen Leaf.] Dross waved his hand and the northern mountain light changed to a model of Blue sitting on Orthos’ shell. [Heaven’s Glory, anyone? Yerin, how about you? You don’t need to go with Lindon, and we didn’t do a headcount of whatever Jades they have left. We probably wouldn’t notice if one or two went missing…]

  He let that temptation hang there in the air, but Eithan had already raised his hand.

  “I would be delighted to secure Heaven’s Glory myself. It’s very important that we hold that exit and soothe relations between the school and the Golds, and you know what they say: if you want something done right, get Eithan to do it.”

  [Done!] The purple light shifted into an image of Eithan sweeping something into a pile. It looked suspiciously like a pile of bodies. [That leaves the Li and Kazan clans for Ziel and Mercy. Who wants which one?]

  “The Li clan!” Mercy said brightly. “I like their name!”

  [Which leaves the Kazan for you, Ziel. You think you can handle it?]

  “I know literally nothing about either of them. Just tell me where to go.”

  [I like you, Ziel,] Dross said. [You’re so…compliant.]

  9

  Ziel took his host of Golds and marched for the Kazan clan territory.

  Well, they took him.

  He didn’t mind his role here. He was saving people from a Dreadgod attack. That was worth his time and attention, so he was more than willing to do it. It’s just that there wasn’t much he could do that his bunch of Akura Golds couldn’t handle on their own.

  That suited him just fine. He would throw his weight around if necessary, but he didn’t need to do much other than be there.