Lindon saw a faint hope in Yerin's eyes, and it reflected what he felt himself.

She sat up straighter. “Will this...”

“Heal you? I'm afraid not.” He didn't sound terribly concerned. “Damage to your lifeline is not so easily cured. What it will do is get you back into fighting shape quickly...and more than that. It will contain excess aura that you can do with as you wish; feel free to feed it to whichever spiritual parasite you’d like.”

He swept a hand toward the tray. “Eat, my child! Eat and grow strong.”

How much power is in that meat? Lindon asked Dross, watching Yerin tear a chunk off a bone with her teeth. He had passed out the first time he had tried a bite of Silverfang Carp meat.

[A little less than in the Carp, but still a deadly dose,] Dross said grimly. [She’s in for seizures, organ failure, paralyzing pain…]

Lindon tensed, but he held himself back when Eithan looked calm.

Yerin took another bite. Then another. Then she took a sip of elixir-laced water.

[...unless she has a stronger body than you did, of course. Then she’ll be fine. You’re very tense right now; you need to relax.]

Lindon accepted a plate of his own, which was less than a quarter the size of Yerin's, and dug in.

Eithan sidled up next to him, whispering into his ear. “By sheer coincidence, I have also stumbled upon a gift for you.”

Lindon edged away from him. “Please don’t whisper like that.”

“I wasn't talking to you. To your purple friend.”

Dross slid out of Lindon's spirit, materializing in his floating one-eyed form. His mouth—full of tiny fangs—moved when he spoke, even though he spoke in the mind and spirit as always. [For me? Oh, that’s flattering.] He glanced from side to side. [It’s not food, is it? Not that I don’t appreciate food, but I don’t have a stomach, that’s all. Or a digestive system of any kind.]

Eithan flourished his arm in a grand gesture. “This is too humble a place in which to present your gift, but not to worry: I will bring you to the proper stage!”

Dross made a disgusted sound. [Where am I supposed to put a stage?]

Chapter 12

Mercy had worked hard to find a spot to herself. The land around the Blackflame capital was packed for miles, and she didn’t want to go too far from Yerin. She ended up worming herself between medical tents, sitting with her back against a pile of supplies.

She spread a cloth beneath her so she didn't have to sit directly on the mud, draping another over her head to keep off the rain. Cold water still seeped through, but it was as dry as she was going to get without taking up space in one of the tents.

She cradled Harmony's axe in both hands, eyes and perception fixed on the feast happening only a few dozen yards away.

Yerin was seriously injured. She needed to advance, or she would die. Mercy yearned to help...and there was one thing she could do to make a difference.

But she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Mercy consoled herself with the thought that surely, Yerin wouldn’t need her help. She would reach Underlord soon, and everything would be all right.

Guilt pricked Mercy like a thorn. For the sake of her own selfishness, she was leaving a friend to suffer.

A silver-and-purple owl fluttered down to land by her.

“Are you after him because he killed Harmony?” Mercy asked quietly.

“He or that beast of his left him to die,” the owl responded in Akura Charity's voice. “They sealed the exit.”

Another thorn pierced Mercy's heart. Before they had reached the island, she'd had no idea that anyone in the Akura family would be anywhere near Ghostwater. Even if she had known, there would have been nothing she could do about it. But she still felt somehow responsible.

“Was it my fault he was there?”

The owl flapped up to land on something invisible in midair...and then the veil was lifted, and Akura Charity stood with the owl perched on her shoulder.

She wore the ordinary, even rough, clothes of a peasant worker. A cloth belt tied around a brown dress, with a rag to keep her hair back. With her spirit so thoroughly veiled, she might have been a young Lowgold servant.

“If you hadn't left the family, it's possible you would have been sent in his place,” the Sage told her. “But it's also possible we would have sent him to gain experience on his own. You didn't need any help to reach Underlord.”

No, she had needed help, just not in the same way Harmony did.

Mercy looked to Charity. Her 'aunt' was actually her grand-niece, but the Sage was so much older that she had always referred to Mercy as a niece. Mercy felt more comfortable with this arrangement. It would have been too strange to have a woman a hundred and fifty years older than her call her 'Aunt Mercy.'

“Are you all right?” Mercy asked. Harmony was Charity's grand-nephew. She had watched him grow up. It must have gouged out her heart to be right there and unable to save him.

Even though the Heart Sage should have absolute control over her own thoughts and feelings, she was still human.

Charity looked away, revealing an unusually troubled expression. “Lindon could not have stopped me from saving Harmony. Nor, I think, would he have wanted to. I could not see into Ghostwater clearly at the end, but I believe it was Harmony that pushed their conflict to the level of a feud. You know he could be...competitive.”

Harmony had shattered a statue and denounced her publicly, breaking off their engagement when she had defeated him in swordsmanship in front of a crowd. It had been embarrassing, but also a relief.

Harmony had not lived up to his name.

“Someone stopped you?” Mercy asked. Who even could?

“I suspect Ghostwater's owner is still alive,” Charity said grimly, and Mercy's eyes widened.

Northstrider, the legendary dragon-eating Monarch. He had been a walking myth since before Mercy's own mother had risen to power.

“Poor Harmony,” Mercy said. She hadn't liked him much, but she had known him. She didn't want to think of him locked in a crumbling world.

Charity nodded. “Whoever was at fault, the Blackflame boy still intervened with the Akura clan. He needs to know that he cannot get away lightly.”

Mercy held out the axe. “Take this back. Please stop sending the Seishen Kingdom Underlords after him. That's not teaching him a lesson, that's just cruel.”

The rain running down Charity’s face made her look more real than she often did. More mortal. She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Do you think I am a cruel person?”

“No, I don't mean that. But...I think you can be, if you want to be.”

“I did not send young Meira and the prince after Lindon as a punishment. I am finding the best competitors for the Uncrowned King tournament. Eithan Arelius' two apprentices are the most appropriate opponents for the two Seishen Underlords. It will push them all forward, resulting in a net gain for us. Indeed, it has already done so.”

Mercy's guilt turned to anger. “Yerin was badly hurt.”

“Advancing will heal her. I cannot imagine a better incentive to reach Underlord quickly.”

Mercy was familiar with Charity's Book of the Silver Heart. It contained seven techniques of shadow and dreams, so Charity lived in a world of abstractions. Of thoughts and visions. Her plans were so far beyond Mercy that Mercy could never comprehend them, but she tended to lose sight of other human beings.