Waybound (Cradle, #12)

by Will Wight

When Lindon had sensed her straining, he had thought she was pushing herself to scrub Orthos’ spirit. Instead, Orthos was standing over her, taking up most of the Blackflame training cave and bellowing encouragement. “A dragon does not hesitate!” the turtle roared. “She decides her goals and she seizes them! A dragon does not surrender!” Little Blue’s scream was a high, piercing whistle, and she briefly swelled to half Lindon’s height. Then she compressed herself back down to about a foot tall, and a cloud of blood essence rushed up and out of her.

“I’m going to transfer everything I can to you, but it’s not just madra. There’s still willpower and memories left in the spirit, and traces of blood and life essence. I’m going to send it to you and help you separate it all, but you’ll have to endure and control it on your own.” [Not everything, of course,] Dross pointed out. [We’ll start with about forty percent of the mental power, because you don’t have me. Your brain is like…have you ever filled an eggshell with so much egg that it cracks from the inside?] “No,” Orthos said. “No one ever has.” [I find that unlikely.]