Reaper (Cradle, #10)

by Will Wight

“If there’s anything here, I’m blind to it. And I’m not leaping to fight invisible enemies today, I’ll tell you that. Ask me tomorrow.”

The Broom Icon.

That was the Void Sage.

Seisha looked at the expression on his face and sighed. “I did tell you,” she said.

He lifted his chin proudly, as though being less than a foot long was his life’s greatest accomplishment.

He wondered aloud if maybe not everyone could advance as quickly as he did, even given the chance. Yerin had stared at him for five straight minutes when she heard him say that, while Eithan laughed himself sick and then stored the memory in a dream tablet to share with others. Lindon still didn’t see why it was funny.

Red Faith bit into the skin of his hand, letting the taste of blood and the flow of aura calm him.

[Error: synchronization denied. No access available.] Dross shook himself. [I apologize. That was very strange. I will rely solely on my own memory.]

“Stop that,” Lindon said. “That could be a thousand years old.” Orthos met Lindon’s eyes and deliberately took another bite.

“It’s romantic,” she responded. Jai Long missed a step, but she gave him a confused look. “What? I told you I was interested in you.”

“Hang on,” he said. “The script is diff⁠—” The tunnel entrance vanished.

“You’ll catch up,” Yerin said confidently. “And until you do…what’s so bad about letting me carry you?”

“So much worse,” he mumbled. “So much worse to be small.”

But it’s not like one Herald, it’s more like…” “A bunch of Heralds smeared over some toast,”

She downed another cup of tea. It really was good. It had been Ozriel’s favorite.

“Stop talking and help me!” [She’s happy to be here.]

“You will stand trial for this,” Gadrael warned Suriel. “But for now…” He set his shield and faced the Mad King. “…nothing will touch you.”

“She’s Malice. I am Mercy.”

That was it? An idle thought? What was the revelation?

“Yeah, we fought a Monarch. Got whipped like the slowest mule, but we didn’t die. So there’s a shiny spot.”

“I don’t know that you could quite call it a Monarch weapon,” Eithan said, “but a Monarch wouldn’t be ashamed to use it.”

Orthos had been preparing himself to die with blood on his shell and fire in his mouth,

Orthos began to laugh.

“We,” Lindon said, “will never stop.”

I have a better idea, he thought. Dross laughed madly, and time resumed.

“You’ve got about a breath and a half before I stop being friendly.” “She’s not lying,” Eithan observed. “That was friendly.” Mercy affected a shocked look. “Oh look, it’s Yerin and Eithan! What are the odds?”

“It’s always best to suppress your appetites if you want to have a rational conversation,” Malice murmured.

“I saw a shadow of Eithan Arelius ascending to Monarch. His face was clear, but those of his followers vague. Two Monarchs followed him, or perhaps four. Enough to change the balance of this world, and not in a way that anyone could challenge.”

A moment later, a bar of Blackflame shot up into the sky. “You never know,” Orthos rumbled. “Maybe this enemy can be burned.”

[You did not abandon me, so I have nothing left to fear!]

The marble cracked.

“How are you here? You couldn’t have known!” Eithan hadn’t known. “I always know,” Eithan said.

Something pulled at his gauntlet, and Eithan caught Lindon trying to Consume his power. Lindon coughed and averted his eyes. “Apologies, it’s a…new arm.”