Eithan was blinking back tears, which caught Lindon off-guard.
“What…” Eithan cleared his throat. “What should we do, Lindon?”
“I’ve been sensing something in the labyrinth,” Lindon said. “It feels like echoes of other sacred artists, and I suspect it’s a phenomenon of hunger aura.”
A look passed over Eithan’s eyes that Lindon couldn’t identify, but the Archlord nodded. “I know what you mean.”
“Can you lead us there?”
“If our captor cooperates.” Eithan powerlessly kicked the wall.
“If I’m not mistaken, that would be a great place to train. If the three of us can’t help Mercy, at least, advance, then we have no right to all our titles. I suspect we could learn something as well.”
“And if it ends up to be nothing?”
“Then we drag as much power out of ourselves as we can before we run out of time,” Lindon said. “Then we move.”
Eithan nodded, and a delighted twinkle returned to his eye. “I’m just happy to be part of the team.”
Lindon had also once dreamed about fighting side-by-side with other sacred artists as an equal, but he wasn’t about to mention that now.
“Then let’s go,” Lindon said. He moved to pick up Ziel, but Yerin was still holding onto him.
“Two and a half seconds,” she said into his outer robe. Then she reached up, red eyes blazing, and dragged his head down for a kiss.
She released him and he took a breath.
“Two and a half more,” she said, and kissed him again.
When she finally released him and picked up Mercy, he had to catch his breath. He very carefully did not look at Eithan.
17
Mercy woke up coughing, with the taste of pine sap in her mouth.
“Sorry,” Yerin muttered. “Not aiming to drown you.”
Yerin tossed aside a bottle that Mercy was certain had held a healing elixir only seconds before. Before the bottle could shatter on the floor, Lindon caught it with his hand of flesh and tucked it away into his coat.
His right hand hung limp and broken at his side, which caught Mercy with a rush of memory.
She looked frantically around, and aside from Ziel looking burned, they were all healthy. And alive.
They were all ragged and beaten, but she let out a heavy breath of relief. She shivered when she considered how close they had all come to death.
If Reigan Shen hadn’t been so drained of his power, he would have eaten them alive. And if he wasn’t notorious for playing with his prey. Akura Malice would never have let them live. They would have died for the sin of standing in a Monarch’s way.
At the thought, she realized they were in a totally different room of the labyrinth.
It was a long, narrow oval with a trench at the bottom only wide enough for one person. Mercy was looking down on it from a slope above; the entire room funneled into the trench.
“Where are we?” she asked.
Yerin crouched next to her. She wore an expectant smile and her red eyes glowed; she looked like Uncle Fury when he had an idea that he would have described as “Really fun.”
Mercy had a premonition of disaster.
“Training,” Yerin said with relish.
Lindon gave Mercy a look of concern. “Are you feeling all right? The construct was stable, but we had to accelerate your healing.”
“Better than new!” Mercy said happily, though that wasn’t exactly true. Her madra reserves were still low, and her channels were strained from the destruction of her bloodline armor, but her body was safe.
She remembered Lindon covering for her—twice, no less—and wasn’t sure whether her gratitude outweighed her embarrassment.
On the one hand, he had saved her!
On the other hand, he had had to save her. She was dragging them down.
Eithan leaned around Lindon, giving Mercy that smile that suggested he could read minds. “Reigan Shen is on his way to the bottom of the labyrinth, where we suspect he intends to use the Dreadgods to kill the remaining Monarchs. We’re going after him.”
Mercy’s breath quickened as she calculated. Could he do it? Of course he could; he had to have been planning this for months, and it matched up with what Fury and her mother had already suspected him of doing.
Did her mother know what he was up to? If not, could Mercy bring her some kind of proof? Only another Monarch could stop Reigan Shen; she was certain of that after facing off against him herself.
Then the impact of Eithan’s words fully penetrated the exhaustion of her recovery.
“You’re going after him?”
“We’re going after him,” Yerin corrected. She circled her pointer finger around the group. “All of us.”
Ziel gave Mercy a dead-fish look of exasperation. “I had the same reaction.”
“But…you’ve seen…I can’t…” It was surprisingly hard for Mercy to admit that she couldn’t match up to someone, even when it was patently obvious. She hadn’t thought of herself as a prideful person, but here she was.
Lindon crouched in front of her. “We think that, with our help, you can.”
Mercy searched his eyes and found rock-solid confidence in her. It was both flattering and very intimidating. Could she live up to that?
“You will be as clay in a master’s hands!” Eithan said, clawing at the sky. “We will mold you into a weapon that—”
Lindon raised his hand, and Eithan cut off. Mercy was surprised the Archlord had allowed himself to be interrupted by his student, but he looked oddly pleased.
“What do you think, Yerin?” Lindon asked.
Yerin snorted. “If she’s kept up with us this far, she’s going all the way.” Then she gave Mercy a wink.
Mercy’s eyes filled with tears, and she threw an arm around Lindon and Yerin. It was hard to speak around tears, but she mumbled something about her thanks and how she wouldn’t let them down. The words were incomprehensible, even to her, but her feelings poured out of her mouth.
Eithan popped up with a grin. “You know, I can’t help but notice that we’re wasting—”
Mercy grabbed him and pulled him into the hug too.
“Oh. Hmm. This is nice.”
It was Lindon who finally pushed back, straightening his outer robe. “Apologies, but we actually are limited on time. The sooner, the better. And I think we have this technique figured out, but it takes me and Dross working together.”
Dross spun out, still wearing his tiny black crown. He gave the trench a glare. [For now! But soon, I will have my full power restored, and then I will operate greater devices than this!]
“Yes,” Lindon said. “Of course.”
Mercy wiped her face with her sleeve, trying to stop sniffling long enough to focus. “All right. What’s the technique?”
“It’s a hunger Ruler technique.” Lindon looked over the room with admiration. “I never thought it was possible, until Dross and I found this room in the labyrinth. But it brings out...I suppose they’re echoes, or Forged imitations, of people the labyrinth has fed on.”
“Demonstration!” Eithan cried, and Lindon didn’t need any more encouragement. He eagerly placed his hand against a script panel on one side of the trench.