Even Irons wouldn’t miss a sign like that. Shen flew down the halls of the labyrinth’s upper layer, supported by blue strands of energy emanating from a construct at his belt. The construct wouldn’t last long, but this was the fastest and most economical way of traveling for now.
Subject One’s attacks had intensified, and now there were traps of hunger madra placed in his way, Forger techniques strung across the halls like webs.
If he had been less skilled, he might have fallen for them. But they still slowed him down.
As soon as the pillar of light from the western peak had vanished, he’d put himself on a time limit. And it would only run out faster and faster.
He reached the eastern chamber, buried beneath Mount Samara, and detonated another powerful weapon to carve through the wall. This chamber had been influenced by the Silent Core for hundreds of years, so it should be a trap of powerful light and dream madra.
He could sense that it was, but he couldn’t see anything. Beyond the hole in the wall, he saw only a chaotic jumble of spinning images.
Even his aura sight was useless here, though that had more to do with the suppression field than the complexity of this dream working.
Shen placed a pair of spectacles over his eyes, which should show him the path through this dream formation.
Unfortunately, he saw immediately that this wasn’t a formation so much as a mess. There was no path through; the strong and weak points of the illusion shifted with every second.
So he had no choice.
Reigan focused his willpower again, hating how long it took him, and how weak his authority felt here.
“Flee,” the Monarch commanded.
The fog of deceptive madra and aura parted like a forking river. He dashed through, scooping up the purple-white Silent Core now that he could see it clearly. He had to be quick; there were undoubtedly spirits that had formed inside this environment as well.
He placed the Storm Core on its altar, then ran away as the clouds of dream madra began to flash with lightning.
From this moment, the ring of the mountain ahead would start to change.
This was his last step, and then he could proceed into the true depths of the labyrinth.
Reigan Shen flooded his madra through his flight construct, shattering it almost immediately. Three of the four Cores had been returned to their proper places. Once he placed the Silent Core in the chamber, all of Sacred Valley would change.
No, the world would change.
The messenger constructs finally returned to Lindon. Most were shaped like butterflies of various colors, though some resembled birds, clouds of sparks, or mechanical flying machines.
Some of the faster ones had returned already, but he’d sent them out at roughly the same time, so he expected them to arrive more or less at once.
He listened to each message. Some constructs bore recorded messages from human scouts, others pinged yes or no to tell him if they’d seen what he’d sent them to look for, and still others gave their own rudimentary opinion like a Remnant’s.
When they finished, Lindon summarized the information and brought it to Eithan.
He found the Archlord waiting right outside of Lindon’s house on Windfall.
“You could have deactivated the ward against me,” Eithan pointed out. “Then I would already know what you have to say.”
“Apologies, it…slipped my mind.” That was a lie that fooled no one; Lindon didn’t want to set a precedent of allowing Eithan to spy on his home. “There’s so much activity in and around Sacred Valley, it’s hard to pinpoint anything. There’s a new entrance into the labyrinth, some strange Remnants have popped up with aspects no one can recognize, the orus trees on Mount Yoma have started to wither, a tribe of outsiders from the south came into the valley to conquer but left as soon as the suppression field set in…”
Lindon spread his hands. If he had to rely on notes, he would have waved them in the air. “I don’t know what to look for. There’s too much.”
Eithan frowned into the distance. “Keep going.”
“Dreadbeasts are gathering outside the valley. Some people say Samara’s ring is dimmer, or its light is less consistent. Almost certainly damage from the—"
Eithan cut him off without a word. His entire aspect had become cold. “The ring around the mountain to the east? Did they report a change in color? Sparks?”
“Sparks, yes. One report said the light “crackled” now. But color, I don’t know. We’ll be able to see for ourselves tomorrow, though.”
Windfall had been heading back to Sacred Valley for several days now. Eithan’s premonition was too disturbing to ignore, but he still wasn’t certain it had anything to do with Sacred Valley, or they both would have rushed over.
Eithan extended a hand over the edge of the cloud fortress, and a golden light shimmered. The Bounding Gazelle, his high-speed cloudship, materialized from sparks of gold over the edge.
“We need to see for ourselves. Send a message to Yerin just in case.”
Lindon did, launching a purple-and-white butterfly after Yerin’s spiritual signature. The technique dispersed into the aura, where it would make the journey to Serpent’s Grave in hours instead of days.
Thanks to her Moonlight Bridge, Yerin could meet them anywhere at any time. She had stayed back in Serpent’s Grave to train a new batch of students and keep Mercy company, who was in between jobs for her family at the moment.
Lindon joined Eithan aboard the cloudship as it shot off, leaving the lumbering Windfall behind. He was feeling left behind himself.
“Eithan, what would it mean if Samara’s ring changed color?”
“The suppression field needs a power source,” Eithan said, still icy. “The ring around the mountain should be a side effect of housing such a source.” He was looking westward as though heading to meet a blood enemy.
Lindon picked up on the implication. If it was changing color, that meant the aspects of the power had changed. But the only thing he could think of that might cause that was the Titan’s attack.
“I would find it more alarming if the ring really was fading,” Lindon said. A loss of power to the suppression field might call the Dreadgod back. Or all of them, this time.
Eithan glanced to him, but Lindon followed the train of logic before the Archlord said a word.
“Unless…the power source was altered.” He spun out the scenario in his mind. “If it just ran out of power, we could replace it. But if it changed, that means someone else has already done that. So someone could be messing with the labyrinth from the inside.”
Eithan didn’t respond, but he flooded the propulsion constructs with madra. So much pure madra would make the ship run faster now, but it would dilute the network of constructs that ran it, so the cloudship would require extensive maintenance and repair later.
Lindon didn’t comment. They did indeed need to move faster.
They flew through the night, covering in hours what should have taken them days if not weeks in a slower vessel. Eithan began reporting before the Valley was visible to Lindon.
“Clear distortion in the ring, but I don’t see much change in color. I suspect it may not be as bright as it was. I don’t see the pillar of earth madra to the west.”
“It’s been unsteady since the Titan fed on it,” Lindon reported. “It isn’t unusual for it to vanish for days at a time.”