That did nothing to loosen the knot in Lindon’s stomach. They had agreed to go to the Arelius family first, precisely because they wanted Eithan on their side before they made contact with the Skysworn.

And Naru Gwei, the only Underlord in the Skysworn, had come already.

He represented a significant amount of the Skysworn’s total combat strength. Lindon could think of only one reason why someone so important would hunt them down in person: he had decided to be rid of them once and for all.

“We can talk with them,” Mercy said, though her face was pale and she had started running one hand nervously through her short hair.

“Run for the town,” Yerin ordered. “They’ll have to fight us in the streets, not rain fire on us from the heavens.”

Lindon sharply wished he still had his Thousand-Mile Cloud, but he took off running nonetheless. He and Yerin ran side-by-side, and the Skysworn ahead of them slowed their flight, pointing.

Lindon realized it must look as though they were chasing after the group of escaping families. His breathing came quick, Blackflame madra boiling up behind his eyes, and the nausea in his gut deepened.

The Skysworn had caught them too quickly.

He had thought they would at least make it back to a major city, and had a chance to contact the Arelius family before the Skysworn caught up to them. Even if they had been caught, he reasoned, it would be by one squad: a Truegold or two and a group of trainees.

He had never imagined they would respond immediately and with overwhelming force. Now, they had to hope the Skysworn were interested in talking.

Lindon glanced back to Mercy, sure she couldn’t catch up to him and Yerin, but she had straddled her staff and was flying on it only a few feet above the grass. Little Blue clung to the top of Orthos’ head, looking terrified, and Orthos glared up at the clouds.

The Skysworn, of course, didn’t let them make it to the town. One figure pulled up ahead of them and swept his arm in a low arc.

Wind rose between them and the town, bright green in Lindon’s aura sight, whipping and twisting in a transparent barrier. It was a Ruler technique, gathering up the wind to form a long wall of violent air a hundred yards long and dozens of feet high. Yerin skidded to a halt before she reached it, and Lindon followed suit. The wind-wall tore up chunks of dirt and grass from the ground, blowing them upward.

Naru Gwei stood twenty feet over them, as firm on his cloud as on solid ground. His arms were crossed over his battered breastplate, his matted gray hair pulled back. One of his eyes was burn-scarred, an old Blackflame injury, and a massive dark slab of a sword had been slung across his back.

Usually he looked as though he’d been woken in the middle of a nap, but this time his eyes were sharp and locked on Yerin.

Lindon’s heart raced as the worst-case scenario played out in his head. If the Skysworn launched Striker techniques from their clouds, he and Yerin and Orthos would be forced to defend themselves.

And while Mercy seemed to have plenty of non-lethal options to choose from, he and Yerin did not. The only technique he could use that would reach the Skysworn on their clouds was his dragon’s breath.

The Path of Black Flame was not suited for taking prisoners.

That was why he held up empty hands and tried not to cycle his madra too quickly. The minute blood was truly spilled, this would devolve into a brawl. And there would be no winning that. Not with an Underlord present.

“Faces against the ground,” Naru Gwei ordered. “Hands behind your backs. Spirits veiled. We’re taking you back for your involvement in the death of Skysworn Renfei and the assault and kidnapping of her partner, Bai Rou.”

His tone brooked no debate, but Lindon didn’t have to look at Yerin to know that she wouldn’t comply.

“We would be happy to explain ourselves,” Lindon said loudly. “There’s no need to restrain us, we will come willingly.”

Gwei gestured, and the four Truegolds began cycling their madra, preparing to launch their techniques. “Faces against the ground,” he repeated, voice harder.

Lindon spoke in a calm, even tone. “We’re on the same team.” Mercy nodded vigorously in agreement, but Yerin was still crouched with her sword out, her Goldsigns gleaming over her shoulders.

Naru Gwei’s face contorted. “You turn on Bai Rou, then ask for my trust?”

Lindon looked to Mercy and Yerin. He’d heard something about this over the last week or so, but he didn’t know what had really happened between them.

“Just a little scuffle!” Mercy called up. “No one was hurt!”

Yerin looked from Skysworn to Skysworn, paying special attention to the ones behind her. Lindon expected her to be angry or resentful, but she spoke to him in a calm voice. “If they’re supposed to bury us, why haven’t they gotten on with it?”

Lindon took that as encouragement, turning back to Naru Gwei. “We will give you a full accounting, I promise. Please, let us talk this out.”

The Skysworn Captain unfolded his arms. “We will listen when your spirits and bodies are shackled. Faces on the ground, final warning.”

Part of Lindon wanted to agree, but he had been locked up by the Skysworn before.

And he was growing tired of letting other people decide what to do with him.

“…I’m afraid if we do that, you are going to imprison us again.”

Finally, the Underlord’s spirit flared. He raised his hand to the sky as though clawing for the sun, and wind aura rose at his command. The air grew rigid against Lindon’s skin, and he felt himself pressed together by wind, stiffening up. Yerin, Mercy, and Orthos were chained in the same way. Orthos seethed, heaving against his bonds.

“You have no standing to bargain,” Gwei continued relentlessly. “My word is your law.” The four Truegolds descended, covered by Highgolds above them, and began moving toward their captives. Lindon felt a great weight bowing his shoulders, pressing him down. “You have not advanced enough to question me.”

And that was it.

Lindon’s fear ignited. When he’d been imprisoned by the Skysworn before, it was for no cause other than his Path. They had never trusted him to work for them, and had treated him like an enemy from the very beginning.

They had used their superior advancement to push him and control him and keep him locked in a tiny room. If he continued to allow that, it would never stop.

There had to be an end to it.

He swiveled his eyes to the side until he met Yerin’s gaze. He had planned to use Dross to send his intentions to her. But as soon as she saw his eyes, her lips curled up into a smile.

A Truegold man twice Lindon’s age seized his wrist in a gauntleted hand, extending a halfsilver manacle that would seal his sacred arts.

The Burning Cloak blazed to life around Lindon, covering him in transparent black-and-red flames. Power flooded him, explosive force that demanded to be used.

For an instant, Lindon struggled against the Ruler technique holding him in place. He was trying to swing his arm back, but it felt like he was pushing against a wooden wall.

With a shout and a flare of Blackflame madra, he shattered that wall to pieces. Wind rushed out as the technique was broken, and his left fist flashed backwards.

He hit the Skysworn with the back of his fist.

The man was a Truegold as well, and he had been on his guard from the beginning. He raised one armored forearm to block, pink light shining out from his Enforcer technique.