Reaper cradle book 10, p.33
Reaper (Cradle Book 10), page 33
“In my last moments, I cast him away, but he will return. Then you will join me in death.”
“Then help me work against him.” This echo would have no control over the labyrinth, but he could still guide Lindon.
“What do you hunger for, young Sage?” Subject One asked, and there was a kind of dark humor in the question. He pointed to Lindon’s arm. “You put my power in your body, so your desire must be great indeed.”
“I am honored that one of your stature would ask about my needs. But I want to grant the wish we share. How do I defeat Reigan Shen?”
Subject One slowly strolled around his own throne. “Yesterday, I tried mindlessly to devour you. But I find that after death, I have control of myself again. At last.”
“Apologies, but I feel that every second is vital.”
“My nightmare is that I have been trapped here only hours, and that it simply feels like an eternity.”
“I hope it is a comfort to know that nightmare is only a dream.”
“Not entirely. Because it means that the destruction I have seen my successors wreak is reality. The countless lives they have destroyed…the great power they have consumed…”
Subject One shuddered, and the white in his eyes flashed, but he re-focused on Lindon. “To foil Reigan Shen, you must know the truth about us. Those you call Dreadgods.”
Lindon sharpened his attention, and even Dross didn’t interrupt. This was the answer they had come here to find. “How do we kill them?”
Papery lips fluttered up into a smile. “I don’t know what the Monarchs have allowed you to know, but it should be no surprise to you to learn that hunger aura isn’t a natural force.”
Lindon nodded, but it was interesting that the conversation had started with hunger aura. Everyone assumed that hunger madra was just a corruption of pure madra that had escaped into the wild long ago.
“It is a corruption of the natural order of Cradle,” he went on. “A manifestation of ambition, of selfish desire. Created by the presence of the Monarchs.” Subject One met Lindon’s eyes and spoke clearly. “The Dreadgods will die only when there are no more Monarchs.”
There was much Lindon wanted to learn here—How was aura created or corrupted? Was there a mechanism that decided which aspects of aura were allowed and which weren’t?—but his time was clearly limited. The white light was steadily fading, and Subject One’s presence grew weaker with every word.
Lindon could put more madra into the technique, but Reigan Shen was growing closer. He couldn’t waste time.
“What’s wrong with the Monarchs?” Lindon asked.
“They are too much for this world. A great weight. Sages like yourself are only half-ascended, which is within the scope of a world like ours. But when your body and your spirit have both grown too great for this world to contain, you must escape to a place that can contain you.”
Dread grew in Lindon’s heart. “Do the Monarchs know this?”
“They must know. It is a fight against the Way to stay in this world at all. And they have stayed not for hours or days, to say farewell to their loved ones, but for centuries.” Subject One bared his teeth. “What do you know of the days before the four great hunger beasts roamed the surface? The four…Dreadgods?”
“Apologies. I’ve never heard of that time.”
“Of course not,” Subject One said heavily. “The Monarchs would control their records. Hunger aura drifted all over the world, and where it moved, all other aura weakened. It corrupted everything; Remnants, natural spirits, sacred beasts. Even humans. Many of them were powerful enough even to threaten Monarchs.”
He took a rattling breath. “We came to this labyrinth as a secure location to perform our research. We were looking for a way to control the hunger aura.”
That was the least surprising thing Lindon had learned so far. Even he had immediately started thinking of all the ways he could use hunger madra the moment he had learned of it, and one hunger spear had allowed an ancestor of the Jai clan to dominate the Desolate Wilds.
“This site was old beyond memory, even to us. We used it as a trap to focus all the hunger aura in the world. Instead of running wild, it would be concentrated here, controlled by ancient seals. We researched fusing hunger bindings into animals, whose power would be suppressed by the great formation.”
He laughed quietly, until Lindon couldn’t tell the difference between laughs and sobs. “We thought we had it under control.”
[He volunteered to take the hunger binding into his own flesh,] Dross said confidently. [The first test subject. Let this be a lesson to you, Lindon: never volunteer.]
The Dreadgod’s cries became laughter again. “The spirit is right.” Lindon stiffened as he realized that Dross hadn’t just been speaking to him, but Subject One didn’t seem to mind.
“I was afraid not to volunteer. You understand the allure of hunger madra, I see. Endless power.” He gave a humorless chuckle. “We were wrong about virtually everything.”
Black-and-white eyes met Lindon’s. “Hunger, you see, is all linked. It is one force, one entity, one…existence. As I spiraled out of control, so did our four greatest subjects. They escaped, contained as they were on the surface…but I was locked here.”
His attention had drifted off, and Lindon felt the power around him ebb. He had to keep the man focused. “Please, how do I defeat Reigan Shen?”
“Slay the Monarchs,” Subject One whispered.
Lindon froze. “No one but the Monarchs can do battle with Dreadgods.”
“It is the Monarchs who sustain the great beasts,” the Wraith continued. “If they are gone from our world, hunger aura will fade away. And we can finally…rest.”
[Fool. That will take decades!]
“How much damage will the Dreadgods cause without the Monarchs around to contain them?”
Subject One gave a cruel smile. “Try to defeat the beasts first, then. That was what the last generation attempted. It was the most awake I’ve felt in…however long. They crushed the beast of earth, and then they discovered what we did. When one of the beasts dies, the others inherit its power until it is reborn. They become smarter. Stronger. And the hunger takes hold.
“The beasts devoured the rest of the Monarchs, and for a while, I could live through their eyes.”
He stared off into the distance, reminiscing, but only for a moment. Then he returned to reality. “But that energy didn’t last. As a generation of Monarchs passed, hunger weakened. The great beasts had to sleep more often, and never fully awakened. I lost myself to the long dream…until more Monarchs were raised up, and failed to leave.”
Not only was Lindon having trouble reconciling this new knowledge with what he knew of the Monarchs, he was becoming restless. Subject One paced around his throne, looking down at his own body, but Lindon felt a foreign will pressing against the authority of the labyrinth.
“Apologies, but how does this help me defeat Reigan Shen?”
“He seeks to replace me.” The echo touched his chest, where the hole was in the enshrined body. “To devour the devourer.”
Lindon looked to his heart again. “He took your core binding?”
“It will be his path to great power,” Subject One said, and each word dripped with mockery. “Such power.”
Lindon looked to the throne where Subject One had been imprisoned for an uncounted number of years. His spiritual perception moved throughout the endless room, and he recognized that this was the perfect state of the dreadbeasts. Physical and spiritual had been fused seamlessly, so that it reminded him of the Herald’s body.
Subject One suddenly shot forward, his teeth bared. “You stop him by ridding the world of Monarchs! Kill them, banish them, convince them, it matters not! Make them leave! If Reigan Shen becomes me, then he will fade into mortality with no Monarchs to sustain him. If he does not…” His grimace turned into a horrific corpse-smile. “…then the beasts will feed one last time.”
“I will do all I can to stop him,” Lindon promised, and that commitment settled on him. Rather than a promise between him and the echo, it felt like a promise between him and the labyrinth. “But I need a way out.”
“As the first child of hunger, I give you my blessing.” The authority of the labyrinth softened, easier for Lindon to mold. Now he could feel the script-chains controlling the mundane functions of each room. He suspected that if Subject One were still alive, his blessing would have been more effective, but anything would help.
Lindon focused his will and the walls blurred. Another exit appeared.
Now, for the first time, Lindon felt the ancient authority that bound Subject One here. It was a suction even stronger than the hunger aura, a hole that Lindon could sense through the Void Icon. No matter how much power the Slumbering Wraith consumed, it only weighed him down.
Lindon saw the longing in the transparent black-and-white eyes of the echo. Even with the keys to his prison, he had been unable to escape. He had been trapped here, half-awake, controlled by hunger.
And feeding on those who entered the labyrinth.
Intelligent he may be, a prisoner of a tragic story, but Subject One was still a Dreadgod.
The doorway out was open and waiting, and Lindon made a note of its position. He bowed his head. “Gratitude. May I know your name, so that it can be remembered?”
For the first time, Subject One looked troubled. “I’m…I don’t…I don’t remember.”
“I will tell your story nonetheless,” Lindon said.
Then he thought, And I’ll take your arm.
Once he banished the echo, he would have the greatest upgrade for his arm. Just before he did, though, he plunged his authority back into the labyrinth. “My apologies, but my friend was fighting your projection of Ozmanthus. Is he still…?”
“All such projections would be cut off when I died.”
Relieved, Lindon saluted the Dreadgod and bowed. “My gratitude, then.”
He let the echo fade, then the Burning Cloak sprang up around him. He reached for one of the dead Dreadgod’s arms.
[His information will support a divine purpose,] Dross said. [Mine.]
The script-lights overhead flickered, and the hunger aura howled. Even the wind drifted past Lindon, being drawn behind him as though by a huge indrawn breath.
Without Lindon’s approval, the wall blurred.
“Two possibilities,” Lindon said aloud. “Either there’s no power going into the control script, so the entire mechanism is resetting, or…the Monarch found his way back.”
Dross appeared just to sneer at him. [Which do you think it is?]
Lindon pulled the spear Midnight from the haphazard harness he’d made on his back. It was awkward to use one-handed, but the aura was still too thin here, and he had no more suitable weapon.
We’re fighting to run away, Lindon sent to Dross. If you can borrow my authority for the control script, then let us out.
[If you were stronger, I wouldn’t have to do such menial labor.]
Lindon didn’t argue. He was focused on the approaching presence, and wondering how long it would take him to burn through the wall and get away.
Then a new figure appeared at the doorway, striding into the room. “Have a seat, Wei Shi Lindon Arelius,” Reigan Shen called. “Let’s talk.”
22
The light in Subject One’s chamber was thin and gray, and the golden chair that Reigan Shen pulled out of thin air gleamed more brightly than anything else. The Monarch found a mound of flesh that rose higher than anywhere else and perched his chair atop it, so no one was seated above him.
“Apologies for disturbing you,” Lindon said, as soon as he entered the room. “I was only on the way out.”
Reigan Shen sat down and raised a crystal goblet, studying Lindon over the rim. The lion’s eyes were sharp, and the light inside them resonated well with this room. He was a predator of endless hunger, and he ruled over this ancient and ruined kingdom.
His clothes were still worn and stained from months of travel, and Lindon noticed that many of the cases, capsules, and devices strapped to him were now missing or empty. He didn’t carry the orange sword or the thin one anymore, but rather had an axe of weathered stone leaning up against the side of his seat.
And he still didn’t give off the spiritual pressure of a healthy Monarch. By what Lindon could read of his power, he reminded Lindon more of Yerin. A Herald, but spiritually weaker.
That lifted Lindon’s spirits, as there might be a way out of this.
Then again, he remembered the endless weapons Reigan Shen had summoned, and the skill with which he’d fought so many opponents at once.
A skilled wielder could more than compensate for a weak weapon. And Reigan Shen still had Tiberian Arelius’ Remnant, the most powerful weapon of them all.
Lindon had strained the connection to that space past breaking, and it was possible that Reigan Shen hadn’t repaired that connection yet. At least, Lindon hoped so. If he could summon a Monarch’s Remnant, then Lindon was a step away from death.
After examining Lindon head to toe, Shen gestured with his goblet to the corpse on the throne. “I see you met the old man. What did you think of his echo?”
“I had great sympathy for him. He was trapped here for so long.”
“Yes yes, but otherwise. I presume you understand the origin of the Dreadgods better now, unless Eithan already found a way to tell you.”
So Eithan had known. He had mentioned being restricted by oath, and it made sense that a Monarch might have forced him to swear to keep their secrets.
“I believe I do have a better understanding of the situation, yes,” Lindon said cautiously.
The Monarch leaned back in the chair. “Well then, I won’t take the long way around. Swear not to spread awareness, or to tell anyone about me, and I’ll let you go.”
There was quiet as he sipped from his goblet.
Lindon feigned delight. “Of course! I’ll swear as you wish.” Dross could tell everyone, and even if he couldn’t, there were surely other ways of releasing the information. But that was assuming the promise would bind Reigan Shen.
But twice, now, Lindon had seen evidence that he could slip the bonds of soul oaths. He was only playing along. “Certainly the Monarch factions already know, though?”
“Everyone knows who matters. If you’re a Monarch, it’s impossible for you not to understand the situation. And for everyone who we think might ascend to Monarch…” He shrugged. “Either they swear, or they don’t make it. You would have to swear this oath eventually, to Malice if not to me.”
Who is he afraid I’ll tell? Lindon wondered. If the Monarchs knew, as did anyone who might advance to Monarch, then he couldn’t tell anyone who could do anything about it.
Dross scoffed. [If the rumor spread, the Monarchs would have to kill those who heard it. Surely that would be a pain. Like sweeping up fleas.]
“I swear not to discuss the relationship between the Monarchs and the Dreadgods with anyone who does not already know, nor to reveal details about Reigan Shen’s actions in the labyrinth, in exchange for my safety and freedom.”
The oath settled lightly around Lindon, waiting for Reigan Shen to answer.
The Monarch studied him again, then drained his goblet. With a faintly regretful sigh, he placed the goblet on the arm of his chair and casually reached for the stone axe.
His spirit flared, and the axe shone as he slashed the weapon through the air toward Lindon. Lines of bladed light flew at Lindon in a net, a complex Striker technique of sword madra, all coming from an Archlord weapon.
Lindon poured soulfire into the Hollow Domain. If he hadn’t been expecting this, he would have been too slow.
The madra crashed into his Domain from sixteen different angles and weren’t fully wiped away, but were weakened enough for Lindon to strike them all down with his hand.
Reigan Shen stood lazily from his chair. “I knew fools never made it to Sage, but I had hoped. You are young.”
“If you weren’t willing to let me go, why make me swear at all?”
“Oaths tend to bind Remnants.” Lindon felt a powerful will surround him, and the air began to stretch and warp. “I suppose I won’t be able to keep yours.”
Lindon reached into space. “Hold!” he commanded. His working went along with the world, which naturally resisted intrusion, so he remained in place.
But it still strained him. No one who made it to Monarch had weak willpower.
Dross snapped a warning as Lindon’s attention faded from the working, and the world slowed slightly as Reigan Shen dashed in, stone axe pulled back for a strike.
Lindon lifted Midnight and used the Soul Cloak. All the strength he could muster went into the weapon, and he didn’t strike for the axe; he plunged it toward the Monarch’s chest.
Monarchs were incredibly durable, but this was still death madra. Lindon was willing to bet his blow would be the deadlier.
Reigan Shen clearly agreed, because he redirected his weapon, striking the spectral green spear aside. Which was when having only one functional arm ruined Lindon.
He could have put twice as much power into the spear, or he could have used dragon’s breath with the other hand. But with a dead arm, he was vulnerable as Reigan Shen released the axe with one hand and jabbed at Lindon’s ribs.
Lindon threw himself backwards, but even glancing force from someone with an ascended body slammed into him and drove all the breath from his lungs. He was hurled back, and while in midair, he begged Dross for help.
[What would you have me do?] Dross demanded. [I told you, I don’t remember him!]
I’ll take any help I can get!
Dross hissed. [Fine. But don’t blame me if I become useless to you.]
His attention vanished from Lindon’s mind. Dross’ body—the ball of dream madra at the base of Lindon’s skull—began to spin.
The spirit was searching his own memories, but he managed to lend some support at the same time. The entire world seemed to sharpen and slow slightly, as though Lindon had finally learned how to use his senses.
