Blackflame (Cradle, #3)

by Will Wight

To the nameless minions who give their lives in my books to make the heroes look better. We will always forget you.

“An Iron child in these woods should have no more pride than a mouse, no more courage than a rabbit. But you have your eyes on the future. You stare only at your goal far away, so you miss the traps before your feet.”

“This is a lesson for all sacred artists, not just Soulsmiths. A snake who tries to swallow an elephant will only choke.”

“Before we return, tell me what you have learned today.” “I am careless. I overstep myself, leaping forward when I should progress slowly and carefully.” “Mm. So long as you have learned.” He didn’t tell her what he had really learned. He would have caught the Remnant’s approach if he were Jade. And she, a Highgold, had swatted it like a fly. That was the real lesson: if you were powerful enough, you could accomplish anything.

With a new family at his side, Jai Long marched to destroy his old one.

He never glanced at anyone else, whether they bowed or not, and many of the strangers looked relieved by that fact. Lindon knew better. Eithan didn't look at them because he didn't need to.

But in my humble experience, you cannot wait until you are stronger than your opponent to fight. Sometimes the game is rigged against you, and your only option is to flip the board.”

“If you don't feel like you're going to die when you're training, then you're doing it wrong,”

After about an hour, he slowly opened his eyes. …to see Eithan peeking in through a crack in his door. The first few times Eithan popped up unexpectedly, Lindon’s reactions had been entertaining enough that the Underlord kept trying to catch him off guard. But you could get used to anything if it happened often enough. “What can I do to serve the Arelius family?” Lindon asked, rising from his bed. Eithan had done so much for him already, the least he could do in return was ignore the Underlord’s…quirks.

He touched his forehead and nodded. “Well then. A good night to you.” The door shut behind him. And then immediately opened again. Eithan poked his head back in. “You’re going to keep cycling, aren’t you? You’re not going to slack off while my back is turned?” “Your back is never turned,” Lindon said, voice dry. “And don’t forget it.” Eithan widened his eyes, staring at Lindon intently as he slowly shut the door.

With very little surprise, he realized Eithan was telling the truth: the two courses were virtually identical. It would be a relief if he ever caught the man in a lie instead of a half-truth, bluff, or exaggeration.

“You're teaching a child to wrestle by locking him in a closet with a wolf,” Cassias said. His tone straddled the line between polite subordinate and stern caretaker.

“You really want him to fight against a former Jai clan heir? Still?” It wasn’t technically proper to question the Underlord, not even in private, but Eithan had never been one to lean on propriety. Besides, dealing with him was a trial that would stretch anyone’s manners.

“There’s an old saying about asking forgiveness rather than permission,” Eithan said, “but the essence of it is, ‘I’m going to do what I want.’”

Lindon bowed, accepting what little compliment there was. After weeks of working with Eithan, he'd started to realize exactly how high the Underlord's standards were. If he used a technique to blow a hole in the moon, Eithan would ask why he hadn't taken care of the sun, too.

Lindon couldn't help a pang of sympathy for the Arelius family elders. Or “branch heads”—whatever they were called here in the Empire. Trying to prop Eithan up as a puppet leader seemed like trying to saddle a whirlwind.