She visibly struggled with herself for a moment before leaning into him, both fists resting against his chest.

Lindon’s heart pounded in his ears, and he slowly moved his arms around her.

On his shoulder, Little Blue made a questioning noise.

“Yerin,” Lindon tried again, “I’m going to miss you. I want you to go…but I wish we could go together.”

“You know what’s going to be a gem? When the fortress is finished, and we can just leave. Head home, you and me, and we can take our time. Everybody else can go rot.”

If Lindon’s heart had been pounding before, now it felt like he was in battle. He tightened his embrace, and she looked up.

It would be the perfect time to kiss her.

He knew it. He could feel it.

But he felt someone else’s gaze on him.

Even knowing it was a mistake, he looked up, and the Winter Sage’s eyes were narrowed and locked on him.

And behind her, Eithan and the Arelius Sage both watched while wearing the same smile.

Yerin shot a glance behind her and reddened, though this time Lindon suspected he was redder than she was. She backed up, and he released her. “Next round in a month,” she said. “Don’t drag your feet. See you then. Same for you, Dross. Blue.”

Little Blue backed up on Lindon’s shoulder, then took a running leap and flung herself toward Yerin.

The spirit wasn’t strong enough to make it all the way, so Lindon and Yerin both moved to catch her at the same time, but Yerin was faster.

The spirit landed on Yerin’s palm, then scurried up her arm and threw two sapphire arms out to embrace Yerin’s cheek.

Yerin’s eyes welled up.

Eithan stepped up smoothly then, gesturing Lindon aside. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I should have distracted the Sages so that you two could have a moment.”

“So only you could watch us?”

“I beg your pardon! I choose not to watch people quite often. Constantly, in fact. Also, the Sage of a Thousand Eyes can see you anywhere I can.”

So Lindon had heard correctly earlier. He looked back at the woman who looked like she might have been Eithan’s mother. The Oracle Sage, or the Sage of a Thousand Eyes, hadn’t been active since the death of her Monarch. Lindon had heard speculation that she was dead.

She nodded, and Lindon gathered she was confirming what Eithan said.

Eithan drew Lindon’s attention back by growing serious. “Listen, we don’t have much time. The Sages have already waited longer than they would prefer. I’ve spent the last week putting this together for you.”

He handed Lindon a scripted river stone the size of a child’s fist. It shimmered slightly with the light of dream madra.

A dream tablet.

“This includes the basics of the Path of the Hollow King,” Eithan explained, and Lindon shifted uncomfortably.

“Gratitude, Eithan, but…”

He and Dross had looked over Eithan’s records and come up with their own theories about the Path of the Hollow King.

“…I don’t think it quite suits me,” Lindon finished. “Apologies.”

Maybe if Eithan had taught him the Path earlier, then he would have become used to it, but Eithan had waited too long. Lindon would have to abandon or completely re-work the Soul Cloak in order to adopt Hollow King madra. Even the Empty Palm would require reinvention.

Rather than disappointed, Eithan looked unconcerned. “Oh, I’m sure. I didn’t want you to adopt my Path. But my techniques will be inspiration for your own, which will help you. As will this.”

Into Lindon’s hand, he placed a ball of copper plates.

Dross gasped, and Lindon’s mouth almost fell open.

The Arelius technique library.

The Sage of a Thousand Eyes craned her neck as though trying to get a better look, though her eyes had nothing to do with her bloodline ability.

“Yerin!” the Winter Sage called, and Lindon felt a cold tingle run up his arm as Little Blue climbed up to sit on his shoulder.

Yerin glanced back at him one more time as she walked over to her Sage.

Lindon raised a hand to her while the Sage of the Frozen Blade pulled a white-and-silver key out of her pocket. A gatekey, which created a portal to one spot.

[Do you think it’s easier for her to use the key, or do you think she can’t make a portal herself?] Dross mused.

Lindon was wondering the same thing himself.

As Yerin walked through an icy portal, glancing behind her with every step, the Oracle Sage stretched. “All right, that’s time for us too, Eithan. Let’s go.”

“I’ve given you temporary access to the technique library,” Eithan said, his voice low and urgent. “Use it to develop your Paths.”

The Arelius Sage used another gatekey, creating a second portal.

“Do you have any tips for Overlord?” Lindon asked quickly. One of Mercy’s tricks had helped him figure out his Underlord revelation, and Lindon had wanted to spend this last week pressing Eithan for anything he knew on the matter. Only Eithan had spent most of the week sneaking around on a project of his own.

A wind from the portal was starting to tug on Eithan’s outer robe. “Think about the will behind each of your three types of madra. The significance. The intentions. What do they have in common? Is there one purpose that unifies everything you can do?”

Lindon paid rapt attention, but the portal was starting to physically pull Eithan in. It looked like he was struggling against a strong wind.

“Also, think of how others see you. What are you to them? This perspective will help you understand your revelation!”

He spoke faster and faster, trying to get the message out as he was physically hauled backwards across the dock.

As he was halfway through the portal, pushing forward as though trying to escape a rushing river, he screamed, “Remember, Lindon! Remember to visit a barber! A barber, Lindon! Your hair lacks volume and defin—”

The portal closed.

Little Blue gave a brief, comforting chime and patted Lindon on the shoulder.

Eithan had given him plenty to think about, and Dross immediately began giving his own suggestions about hair, but Lindon stared for a long minute into the swirling wind and the passing cloudships.

He stood on the cold dock, feeling very alone.

Eithan flew out from the portal into a plain underground room of packed dirt reinforced with wooden planks. The Sage of a Thousand Eyes stood waiting for him in the doorway.

Only when the portal closed did she say, “That was dramatic.”

Eithan had brushed against the dirt wall, so he swept his outer robe clean. “I regret only that I didn’t teach him the importance of proper hair care.”

The floor was plain dirt with one exception: a scripted stone sticking up about a foot from the center. That would be the anchor, the target the gatekey used to mark this location as a target.

He looked down the long hallway, which was all dirt and wood, lit by flickering scripts.

“Welcome home, Eithan,” the Sage said.

“I see we’re not quite back to our former glory.”

The Oracle Sage gave a halfhearted laugh and started walking. “We can barely afford to use the gatekey. On the bright side, it costs a lot less to maintain a network of underground bunkers than a mansion.”