“I think I could grow to like you,” Dross said. “You know, eventually.”

Half an hour later, as they hiked back up the hallway toward Orthos, Dross sighed. “Well, that was disappointing.”

Lindon carried a full rack of twenty-four filled vials in one hand, and a bucket half-full of glowing purple water in the other. He'd found the bucket in one of the abandoned maintenance closets, and the handle was even scripted so that he could carry it in his Remnant hand without having to focus madra to the fingers.

“I mean, I knew I could hold more information, but I have staggered even myself. I feel like I could swallow another whole room full of information. Did you know that a thunder eagle was a bird? Birds fly through the air, not through the water, I don't know if you were aware. This is a fascinating area of study. Why don't you fly?”

Dross' rusted metal ball was tucked into the waist of his robes, while Little Blue sat on his shell. She kept peering down through the cracks, staring at Dross' construct form, though he didn't seem to enjoy it.

“Oh, she's...she's looking in here again. That's embarrassing. Could you...I mean, if you don't mind, could you please stick to yourself? Yes, thank you. No privacy here, I tell you.”

“You were telling me about the grand work,” Lindon prompted, as the ground started to slope upwards.

“The grand work is the whole purpose of Ghostwater, isn't it? Northstrider built this whole pocket world to find a way to enhance his mind. You know, sharpen it up. He had all the power he could handle, so he figured the way forward was to improve his use of that power. Fight smarter, not harder, as they say. There were three branches of research down here. This was where the Soulsmiths tried to develop an advanced memory construct that could take over some of his mental processes. Total failure. Their memory constructs never grew to be anything more.”

“That room was still full of constructs,” Lindon said. He could only imagine what treasures had filled this place before; if only this facility hadn't been looted, it might have been packed to the brim with Soulsmith research materials.

“Yes, well, after the first few Heralds left, they took everything valuable with them. All the advanced memory constructs, as well as the tools and techniques for making them. After that, they decided that this pocket world was still a good place to train their disciples, so every ten years they send some Truegolds in here for training. I learned all this from those security constructs, by the way. They saw more than I would have believed. And while I was stuck in a well! The world is unfair.”

When he reached Orthos, Lindon knelt and placed everything on the ground next to the wooden chest. Reaching behind him, he pulled out the Eye of the Deep, which was still slowly leaking essence from the crack in the gem.

“Aaaaahhh,” Dross said, “now that's a vessel. Pretty to look at, and only one crack! Luxury. Hey you! You in there! Do you even know what a life you have?”

The Eye, of course, didn't respond.

“This is the key to Ghostwater, but it’s losing cohesion. If you will agree, I could link you to this construct. It should help repair damage to the Eye, give you a better vessel, and expand your capabilities.” Lindon hefted the gem in his hand. “Personally, I’d love to see what a self-aware construct could do with greater powers.”

Dross made a thoughtful humming sound. “That's a taller hurdle than just drinking in more information, you know. I'd need to be bound to the gem just like the original construct. Once I am, though, I don't see why I couldn't show you around. Give you the tour. I'd love to see the whole place myself, to be honest. But you'd need to find a Soulsmith to perform the operation.”

Lindon reached into his wooden chest and pulled out the tightly packed bundle of leather. He untied it, unrolling it on the ground. Soulsmith tools hung in pouches and from loops.

“I am a Soulsmith,” he said.

Apprentice, he added, but only in his head.

“Oh, are you? Brilliant, then! Let's do this!”

Chapter 6

The gates at the front of the black fortress swished open, trailing through sand. Yerin pushed herself to her feet, her empty core making her dizzy.

Bai Rou stomped up to them in his heavy armor. He stayed far enough away that Yerin couldn't reach him. Not that he needed to. She had less fight left in her than a caged rabbit.

Didn't stop her surge of hate and anger at the sight of him. If he hadn't held her back, she wouldn't be out here right now.

Mercy brushed sand from her hair and robes, moving toward the gates. She tripped in the sand, stumbling a few steps forward to the entrance.

An old, balding man in a pressed purple uniform scurried out. When he saw Mercy, he slowed, bowing to her with every step.

“My apologies, Mistress, my apologies.”

Mercy brightened, hurrying up to him. “Old Man Lo! Do you remember me?”

Old Man Lo cringed, dropping to his knees and pressing his forehead to the beach. “I cannot apologize humbly enough, but I am forbidden from answering any of your questions. I can’t be sure what answers might be considered...aiding you.”

The cheer on Mercy's face faded. She looked down. “Oh, that's...that's all right. Don't worry.”

Lo looked like he was about to cry as he stood up. With trembling hands, he brushed himself off, eyes locked on Mercy.

But after a few deep breaths, he'd composed himself and turned to the rest of them. He dismissed Yerin with an up-and-down glance, looking to Bai Rou. “You and your attendant will answer to my mistress. Come.”

Yerin jerked her head to Mercy. “Her?”

Lo acted as though she had not spoken, turning back to the still-open gates.

“Not me,” Mercy said sadly. “We should go in.”

She started walking, but Lo froze. “Ah...please, Mistress, forgive me. Exercise the quality for which your divine mother named you, and have mercy upon me.” He was still facing away from her, which Yerin thought might be considered rude, but he was also trembling. Maybe he was too scared to see her reaction.

“I cannot allow you inside,” he continued. “Giving you shelter, you see.”

Mercy's face contorted for a moment. “I can't even visit?”

“The divine command was...difficult to interpret. We cannot give you assistance, but how could my mere judgment be enough to decide what she would consider assistance? Please spare me and wait out here.”

Mercy slumped, bracing herself with her staff.

Yerin was starting to see a bigger piece of the picture. Mercy's mother, the Monarch who had fought with the Dreadgod, had kicked her out. Without the help of her family.

Seemed cruel. She'd have expected a Monarch to kill a rebellious daughter straight and true, which would be the end of it.

Bai Rou still had not moved, but finally he spoke. “Do you speak for the Akura family?”

Old Man Lo turned to give him a withering stare that plainly said he thought the Skysworn didn't have the brains to rub two sticks together. “The mistress of this castle is Akura Charity, Sage of the Silver Heart. She speaks for the Akura family, your empire of children, and humanity itself. Your hesitation in following her commands will be noted.”