Eithan gasped. “This is an amazing coincidence, because the most efficient way I have to train you requires us to earn a great deal of money. And the most profitable prospect available to us—” He held up a stack of papers. “—is to complete missions for the Skysworn!”

Orthos chuckled. Yerin gave Eithan a flat stare. Mercy looked excited. Little Blue let out a little whistling snore and curled up tighter in Lindon’s pocket.

Lindon asked, “What about the Arelius family?”

He knew that Eithan was restricted by what the family would allow him to spend, but surely the greatest source of funding available quickly would be from the Arelius family.

Eithan cleared his throat. “We're having a temporary disagreement of sorts. Suffice it to say that I do not have the same access to family funds that I used to.”

Lindon didn’t want to pry further, but his heart fell. Without the resources of the Arelius family, advancing would become that much more difficult.

“I’ve come across some good fortune in Ghostwater,” he admitted, though it speared him through the gut to be volunteering his spoils of war. “Works of art I…recovered…from a gold dragon. They aren’t any help in the sacred arts, but Orthos suggested we could sell them.”

He hated to give up money he could use, but if Eithan really knew of a way to advance them all together, then Lindon would contribute.

Eithan clapped him on the back. “Generosity! Truly, the disciple takes after his master. Now, we have to get going! Those sewer spirits won't blow themselves up.”

~~~

Yerin had worked for the Arelius family before, and she'd never say out loud that she missed it. Working for the Skysworn was much the same.

It was nice to have a mission and a purpose that was simple enough to complete. Sewer spirits formed out of corruptive, toxic aura, and grew until they could squeeze their way up into homes, eating pets and weak Remnants. Just had to track them down and dice them up, then track them back to their source. The Arelius family would have to clean up the mess at the center of it all, but the Skysworn existed to keep the peace in the sacred arts world. Dealing with spirits that got too strong was their job.

A few days after that, they chased down a circle of renegade Soulsmiths selling faulty healing constructs. They had hired a pack of Truegold sacred beasts as muscle, so that one ended up getting a little heated.

For ten more days, they recovered stolen weapons, hunted Remnants to replenish their Soulsmith supply, and guarded a farm from a group that the Soulsmith called bandits. They ended up being hungry locals, driven from their homes after the Dreadgod attack, who agreed to stop making trouble in exchange for a crate full of food.

In between everything else, they had to supervise the Emperor's latest decree. He had called every sect, school, and clan that mattered a notch to Blackflame City, and even Stormrock was drifting in that direction. They passed over caravans, cloudships, and processions of sacred artists heading to the capital, and of course a few holds and sects that didn't want to listen.

Intimidating stubborn Truegolds into following orders was a bright spot in her day. Wasn't too long ago that they could have swept the floor with her, and now they had to straighten up their spines as soon as she walked in the door.

Besides, now that Lindon had a proper spirit in him, he had a natural gift for sharp looks. It made her heart warm to see him make a white-haired elder choke using nothing but a black-eyed stare. The baby squirrel had finally left the nest and grown into a...well, squirrels never turned into anything scary. Call it an ancient sacred squirrel.

They had taken their first steps toward becoming a real team, too. Mercy had no problem taking care of Remnants or feeding the hungry, but she couldn't scare so much as a baby kitten. Orthos had no interest in anything complicated; he just wanted to know what to knock over. A turtle after her own heart.

Little Blue...still wouldn't touch Yerin.

That didn't bother Yerin. Why should it? The spirit looked so happy riding around on Lindon's shoulder, pointing out the scenery they passed, scampering up on his head to get a better look.

...maybe she should get a Sylvan of her own.

Everyone was working as a merry team except one. On his own, Eithan could have done as much as the rest of the squad, but he seemed happier to sit back and watch them. He didn't talk to the citizens, he didn't fight, he only pointed them in the right direction and watched.

Lindon didn't say anything, but Yerin could tell it was pushing him to the edge of a cliff. He tried every night to get Eithan to train him in pure madra techniques, but Eithan always said Lindon wasn’t ready.

Yerin couldn't imagine what he was waiting for, but he was starting to get on the wrong side of her, too. What right did he have to treat Lindon like that?

Though she had to admit that part of her was relieved. With Eithan's personal instruction, Lindon might beat her to Underlord.

What if he made it, and she never did?

They flew back to Starsweep Tower, landing and withdrawing their Thousand-Mile Clouds. Yerin still hated the armor, but having a cloud you could summon and dismiss at a thought was pleasing.

“Where's dinner?” Yerin asked, as soon as they hit the pavement.

Lindon carried the papers proving that they had completed their day's assignment—tracking down a pack of sacred bats and 'persuading' them to stop attacking the cloudships that came and went from Stormrock. He would turn the missions in for payment, then join the rest of them.

“Fisher Gesha is cooking for her family,” Lindon responded, flipping through the papers one last time. “She invited us over.”

“What has she got cooking?” Yerin asked. She wouldn't put it past the old woman to boil up a pot full of spiders.

“Apologies, I'm not sure. Crab, I think?”

Crabs. The spiders of the sea.

Yerin looked to Mercy and Orthos, hoping they would have other plans, but Orthos was still shivering on the ground, relieved to get out of the sky. Eithan's Thousand-Mile Cloud was the largest, so he had to haul the turtle every time, and Orthos still hated flying. Mercy gingerly patted the turtle's head, speaking in a soothing voice.

Finally, she turned to her last hope: Eithan. Who was already staring at her with a big grin on his face.

That was never a good sign.

“Why don't the rest of you clean up and head over?” Eithan suggested, slipping an arm between Yerin's Goldsigns and resting it on her shoulders. “I'd like to have a moment with Yerin, if she doesn't mind.”

Mercy agreed enthusiastically and then guided Orthos away, paying no attention to the rest of them. Lindon looked up from the papers, glancing from Yerin to Eithan's arm on her shoulders. Then he turned his gaze to Eithan.

Sometimes it was hard to tell what Lindon's face meant. Yerin couldn't tell if he was waiting for an explanation for an Underlord or if he was glaring. It looked like a glare, but then, it always did.

Eithan pulled his arm back and coughed. “I have a few remarks I would like to share with her. About her training.”

Now that was definitely a glare.

Eithan waved a hand at him. “You know I haven't forgotten you, just go get our pay. We'll meet you at the Fisher's.”

Lindon looked less thrilled about getting the money than he had before, but he trudged off toward the accounts office.