But the idea of possibly seeing Samara’s ring in the distance as they traveled by filled him with a strange excitement.

When the darkness lifted, they were standing on the dune of a strange desert. The corner of a building stuck up from the sand alongside a startled-looking creature bigger than Lindon. It resembled a cross between a mole and a lizard, and when it saw them—or maybe when it sensed Fury—it clawed its way rapidly down into the dune.

Lindon felt power radiating from above him, and he looked up.

Miles across the desert, huge green stalks rose from the sand. They stood higher than Elder Whisper’s tower back home, and at the top bloomed massive flowers supporting what looked like cities.

If they hadn’t been under such a time limit, Lindon would have wanted a closer look. Mercy shaded her eyes to stare at the flowers and made noises of amazement.

Fury stretched his arms up and yawned. “Okay, let’s get on with it. Who’s got a cloudship?”

“I have been reliably informed that mine is one of the fastest in the world,” Eithan said. He swept his arm in a grandiose gesture, and a gold light manifested over the sand next to him. It looked like the Remnant of a ship for a moment, until it solidified into the real thing.

It was a sleek and opulent ship, made of dark polished wood and outlined in gold, and it looked sized to carry ten or fifteen people. The cloud beneath it was a bright white-gold, and the prow was carved into a snarling lion of white and gold.

“The decorations leave something to be desired,” Eithan observed.

Fury gave him a sidelong glance that Lindon would have called disgusted. “At least you’re good for something.” Then he leaped aboard.

Lindon had never heard Fury speak in a less than friendly tone to anyone but an enemy Herald. Mercy noticed his surprise and sighed.

“He doesn’t like anyone who gives up. For any reason.”

“I got his mother’s permission, but that doesn’t mean getting everyone’s approval.” Eithan shrugged. “Ah, well. I have nothing if not confidence in my likeable demeanor.”

Lindon suddenly worried if Eithan would survive all the way to Sky’s Edge.

The trip would take almost nine hours, which surprised Lindon. That wasn’t much faster than when Charity had taken him to Sky’s Edge before.

But, as Dross reminded him, there was a significant difference between transporting two people and four. If Charity had been the one to send them instead of Malice, it might have taken them an entire day to arrive.

For the first few hours, Fury napped as Eithan lurked nearby and made continual comments about how nice the weather was and how it would be a shame to sleep the day away. At one point, Fury tossed him off the side of the ship.

Lindon cycled the Heaven and Earth Purification Wheel until he could stand it no longer. Then he worked on his armor as Little Blue ran around the deck, which ended when she almost pitched over the railing. After that, he kept her in eyesight and chatted with Mercy.

Eventually, the topic turned to their purpose in Sky’s Edge.

“I was surprised to see that Fury made it to see your match,” Lindon said. “I thought he had to stay and keep the Abyssal Palace Herald in check.”

Mercy idly extended a String of Shadow and watched it flutter in the wind. “Everyone is playing by the rules for now because of Penance. If a Herald kills all our Lords, he’s made himself a prime target if we end up with the weapon.” She gave a heavy sigh. “But you can’t lean on your enemy’s restraint for long, so we still need to be back before the dragons get there.”

She was more subdued than usual, and Lindon knew she was thinking about her loss.

But he’d been wondering about the dragons’ strategy. It was too expensive to transport a whole flight of dragons through space, so they would be making a trip across an entire continent.

And…why? They had nothing to gain from the Dreadgod. They couldn’t even kill Fury, in case Yerin won the tournament and decided to get revenge by using it on their Monarch.

So what were they thinking?

When he asked Mercy, she gave a deeper, heavier sigh. “It’s like Northstrider told us: dragons would rather burn a field to the ground than give their enemies a bite to eat. Or however he put it. They have nothing to gain, but as long as we’ll lose out just as much, they’re happy to do it.”

That seemed unsustainable to Lindon. They had to gain more than they lost or their faction would never grow.

But Malice and Fury had been fighting the dragons for centuries, so they knew the nature of their opponents. There were more factors at play here than he could know.

Mercy gave a third sigh. The deepest and heaviest of them all.

Dross was concerned. [Do you think she’s having breathing problems?]

Even Little Blue scurried up to lay a hand on Mercy’s knee and let out a worried cheep.

“It’s difficult,” Lindon said, “watching and not being able to affect anything.”

Mercy patted Little Blue with one blackened finger. “I had my chance. And I just…” She spread her hands and mimed dropping something.

“We still have Yerin.”

Truthfully, Lindon understood how she felt. He hated leaving his fate in the hands of others. But if it had to be someone, at least it was Yerin.

“That shouldn’t be her responsibility. It’s mine.”

Lindon had intended to lighten the mood, but he couldn’t help but saying, “You made it further than I did. I think I could have beaten Calan Archer or Brother Aekin, but I don’t know if I’d have been any good against anyone else. I could never have beaten you, for instance.”

That should encourage her, but it was also honest. She had fought far beyond her level.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “Did losing hurt you that much?”

“Oh, no, apologies, I didn’t mean to suggest that.”

“Aren’t you the one who fought an Underlord prince as a Truegold?”

Lindon hadn’t meant to make this about him, and he tried to backtrack, but she kept talking.

“I’m surprised to hear you say you could never win against someone, that’s all. If I asked you to punch a hole in the sky, I thought you’d say ‘Apologies, it might take me a few years.’”

Was that how she saw him?

Eithan and Northstrider had both encouraged him to think about himself from the perspective of others, so he probed a bit deeper. “I don’t see it like that. I try to do whatever I can, or whatever I have to, but even I know that sometimes there’s no way to win.”

Mercy released Little Blue and turned to look him in the eye. “Says who?”

The heavens? Lindon thought. Reality? Whoever decides what ‘truth’ is.

That would have been too rude to Mercy, so he didn’t say it aloud.

When he didn’t respond immediately, she continued. “You look different when you’re fired up to win and when you’re not. Did you know that? Usually your face is like this.” She scrunched up her eyebrows and firmed her jaw into an intense stare. “And then when you give up, you look like this.”

Her head drooped down and she used her fingertips to pull her lips into a frown.

Little Blue fell over laughing. It sounded like bells in a high wind.