That had been Dross’ contribution; another fact he’d learned from Northstrider’s collection of memories.

“That’s Northstrider,” Pride said.

“I’m not saying I can perform as well as he can, but it does show that I won’t wake up the Titan.” That had been one of Lindon’s primary concerns. “I’ll be like a flea, and I will be taking only the smallest possible amount, even for me.”

“I don’t know,” Mercy said doubtfully. “I don’t see why you’d take the risk.”

Ruby spoke up from her position clinging to Lindon’s left arm. “What’s life without an edge of risk?”

Mercy shook her head. “Ruby, that is just uncanny. You sound too much like Yerin, it’s twisting my brain.”

“I want to take the risk because I think it will benefit my sacred arts,” Lindon said, steering the conversation back on track. “But we could all benefit. I can read my target’s strongest emotions and memories, so we should be able to get a sense of the Wandering Titan’s goals.”

That was why Northstrider did it, after all. Dream oracles could suggest when and where the Dreadgods would attack, but they were always vague and subject to change.

The Monarch of the Hungry Deep preferred more specific, immediate information.

“Hmmm….nope,” Fury said at last.

He flopped back onto the warm tiles, crossing his arms behind his head like a pillow.

Ruby’s Goldsigns slipped out, stabbing Lindon in the side. “You mind giving us a notch more than that?”

“Uncanny,” Mercy muttered.

“Sure! Lindon doesn’t understand where the real danger is. Yeah, the enemies probably won’t stop a single Underlord from walking right up to the Dreadgod. Their own Underlords were doing it now and then. I let it happen because even if they attacked full-force, there’s nothing they could do to make the Titan notice.

“So Xorrus won’t murder you, and the Dreadgod probably won’t crush you in its sleep, and even if you drink so much of its madra that it would pop you from the inside, your arm would break before you were hurt too badly.”

Fury had already shut his eyes, but he cracked one open to look at Lindon. “You have to wrestle with the wills of the people you drain, don’t you?”

“It’s never been a problem. The less I take from them, the less I have to fight them for control.”

“Yeah, you’re underestimating the will of a Dreadgod.” Fury’s eyes closed again, and he settled back against the tiles. “Even the smallest, tiniest, little grain of it will leave you drooling on the floor. Trust me and drop it.”

Lindon supposed a Herald would know best, but he hated to give up just like that. This could be the key to his revelation. And how many more opportunities would he get to learn directly from a Dreadgod?

“There should be a solution. I believe I could prepare myself, or create some kind of filter—”

Fury cut him off. “Okay then. Why don’t we see how you do, huh?”

Spiritual pressure pushed down on Lindon. The phenomenon was nothing more than the spirit recognizing superior power, but he’d seen some people—like Eithan—use pressure as a focused weapon.

Though Fury still lay with his arms crossed behind his head, his attention pushed in on Lindon from every direction. Ruby was shoved away, and even his madra moved sluggishly in his channels.

“It’s harder than people think,” Fury went on. “Everybody thinks they can…” One eye opened. Then the other eye.

Then he was standing opposite Lindon. “Hey now, you’re pretty good.”

Lindon knew this was just a test, but he still felt like the Herald was underestimating him too much. This was nothing like the weight he’d felt from Northstrider.

Fury rolled back his sleeves. “I’m going to go a little harder, so don’t blame me if you forget how to breathe.”

The pressure redoubled, and this time Lindon had to grit his teeth and push against it. It felt like forcing the Heaven and Earth Purification Wheel, or like when he’d tried to keep Dross away from Northstrider.

“Mercy, you were right!” Fury shouted. His eyes were shining, his hair dancing in the wind. “This is fun!”

“Uncle Fury, no!” she shouted.

Even Pride yelled at him to stop, and Ruby dove at him, pulling a black sword from her soulspace.

They were all shoved back, and the burden on Lindon increased once again.

He was being squeezed in the fist of a giant, and he strained for every ounce of power and concentration to push the closing walls away from him. Dross was yelling at him, but Lindon’s consciousness was a blur, his entire being narrowing down to his struggle to push.

Then it was over, and he took in a long, shuddering gasp.

He was on his knees, sweat running down his face onto the tiles. The setting sun hadn’t moved, so at least he hadn’t lost much time.

[Only a few seconds, but…are you…I mean, I couldn’t even move.]

“Well, when you’re wrong, you’re wrong!” Fury said cheerfully. “Let’s give you the night to recover and then you can head out in the morning, what do you think?”

Ruby leaped at Fury, but he shoved her down with one hand.

“Gratitude,” Lindon forced out.

He couldn’t wait to go lie down.

Fury started fumbling in his pockets. “Oh, right, I just remembered. You guys must have heard by now that Yerin won again, right?”

Mercy cheered, though she’d heard from Ruby already, and the last knot of worry in Lindon’s chest loosened.

“Aha! Got it. Here, you should look over these.” He tossed a pair of dream tablets to Lindon. “Records of the round. Make sure you share! And then hand them over to Justice when you’re done, he was looking for them earlier.”

Dross, Lindon thought, and the spirit connected to the tablets eagerly.

[Mmmm…delicious memories.]

Dross memorized both tablets in seconds, and though Lindon wanted to view them himself, he would have to do it when he wasn’t about to collapse. Dross could bring the experience up for him anytime, so he handed the tablets to Mercy after only a few seconds.

When he got back to his tiny, cramped room tucked away in the back of the fortress, he was surprised to find that Ruby immediately followed him inside.

[No, go away!] Dross shouted. [Shoo! Don’t eat Lindon!]

Lindon very much doubted that was her intention. For one thing, she was munching on a haunch of roasted meat that she must have snatched on her way down.

But she also didn’t act like she had any hostile intentions toward him. He might say it was the opposite.

She finished the meat, tossed the bone aside, and sat on the edge of the bed. The cot was barely big enough for Lindon, and the room contained nothing else aside from a rug and a small shelf.

He was afraid of where the conversation would take him if he spoke to her, so instead he turned and opened his void key.

Little Blue, who still sometimes surprised him with how tall and bright she was, stared at Ruby from within.

Blue ran out of the storage space, chimes ringing in a warning.

Ruby scooted up on the bed, farther from the Riverseed, pushing her back against the wall. Lindon couldn’t tell if she was afraid of Little Blue or trying not to hurt her, but he scooped Blue up anyway.