Reaper (Cradle, #10)

by Will Wight

He liked being the only sacred artist in the world to fight with a broom. It had style. After reaching Underlord, he grew in knowledge, and insight, and power. He studied the nature of soulfire and proved its connection to deeper truths by manifesting an Icon of his choice in front of a panel of renowned scholars. The Broom Icon.

“You’re not even really a team,” Ziel said dismissively. “You’re not a sect, and two of you are only part of the Arelius clan in name. Mercy’s going to go back to her mother the second she calls, and if you think Eithan cares more about you than about what he can get of you…well. You’re not that naïve.” That might have been going a little too far, Ziel reflected, but it was best that Lindon hear it early. Somehow, though, the chill Ziel felt from the depths of Lindon’s black eyes had deepened. “Anyone who fights a Dreadgod by my side is on my team,” Lindon said quietly.

“Let him kick you,” Yerin suggested. Everyone looked to her—Naru Huan’s face had grown substantially brighter—but she didn’t back down. “You want to show you’re sorry? Let him kick you.” Eithan’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I’m a little disturbed at how quickly you came to that suggestion.” “I dream about it every night.” Naru Huan controlled himself, but Lindon could see that he was holding back excitement. “I would like that very much.” “Well, if I’m not going to defend myself, I would prefer if you took it easy⁠—” He didn’t. The Emperor’s kick contained all the madra, aura, and soulfire of an experienced Overlord. The sudden detonation of air would have leveled Lindon’s house if not for the scripts and his own protection. As it was, air surged out from Windfall for miles, even buffeting some landing cloudships. Lindon watched as Eithan flew as a rapidly vanishing speck to the west. “I think he might make it all the way to Sacred Valley.” Naru Huan clapped his hands and shouted. “Bring me a blank tablet!” His escort of Golds on the neighboring cloudship scurried to obey. Lowering his voice back to normal, the Emperor spoke to Lindon and Yerin. “I need to record this memory while it’s fresh. I can never forget this.” Indeed, he looked like he’d been injected with a good night’s sleep in an instant. Kicking Eithan. Lindon would have to try that.

Then the bush shook, and Lindon saw Orthos emerge. At about the level of Lindon’s ankle. Orthos snapped up a bee that had crawled along the ground too close to his mouth. “Don’t give me that look. My spirit is as strong as ever.” Lindon knew that. If it hadn’t been, he would have sensed the change immediately. But now Orthos was the size of an ordinary turtle. Maybe a baby one. Lindon was having trouble reconciling the sight, but Little Blue wasn’t.

Lindon walked back to Windfall, feeling very peculiar. He was also certain that, if Dross were around, he would have joined the other two. If Lindon wasn’t careful, he was going to end up with some sort of reputation as a Sage who kept tiny pets. Unless, he thought, he had such a reputation already. Lindon shuddered.

The Archlord landed gently, as though he’d merely stepped off a stoop, but he still clicked his tongue in disappointment. “Were you trying to land on me?” Cassias asked. “I was going to land on your shoulders. Then I was going to make a joke about how it was your turn to hold me up, but now it’s dead.” “That doesn’t sound like a very good joke.” “Well, the moment’s gone, isn’t it? You ruined it.”

Orthos had already hopped off of Lindon’s shoulder and started munching at a defunct hammer. “Stop that,” Lindon said. “That could be a thousand years old.” Orthos met Lindon’s eyes and deliberately took another bite.

he immediately checked the entire room. By looking to Eithan.

“Good thing it hasn’t attacked us yet!” Eithan shouted. It immediately attacked.

“You’ll catch up,” Yerin said confidently. “And until you do…what’s so bad about letting me carry you?” Orthos burned so clearly with the resolve to improve himself that Yerin could practically see it. Mercy’s eyes welled up, and even Ziel gripped his hammer a little harder. Yerin felt a smile tug at the corner of her mouth. Not only did she have friends along, but she was in a position where she could protect them. Ruby would be just as happy as Yerin was.

“I consider the things I’ve given you to be the best investments I’ve ever made.” Lindon straightened up and pressed his fists together, bowing over them in a sincere salute. “Gratitude, master.” “You know, you never call me that.” Eithan ushered Lindon out of the Soulforge, though Lindon kept shooting longing glances backwards. “It’s probably for the best. I don’t want status to go to my head.” “I’m not sure I can pay back an investment like this.” “Oh, you can start paying me back once we’re out of Cradle. My investments are long-term.”

“Better to move quick than wait to die,” Yerin muttered. She sheathed her sword and spread her arms wide. “Come here, everybody. Family hug.” Ziel walked over to her, still dull-eyed as ever. Even Orthos hopped from the ground to land on her shoulder. Mercy’s eyes sparkled as she joined, wrapping everyone in an eager hug of her own. “I never thought I’d hear you say those words!” Yerin was a little thrown off at how easily everyone had joined her. “I’m about to carry you.” “I know,” Mercy said, squeezing Ziel with one arm and Yerin with the other. “It’s still nice.” Yerin held on to everyone and leaped.

He moved to another dream tablet as Yerin was pulled away from it. She had a troubled look on her face. “This is your ancestor, Eithan?” Eithan ran a hand over his head as though wishing for longer hair. “The first of my House, yes.” “I’d pick you over him six times out of five.” Eithan blinked. “That may have been the kindest thing anyone has ever said to me.” “Don’t let it swell your head,” she muttered. “This inspires me to compose a poem!”