Ghostwater (Cradle Book 5) Page 6

  His yellow glare cut through the water, and his spirit released its full power like a crashing tide. He had to use half his madra to hold this Ruler technique in place, but the rest of his spirit was focusing itself in his palm.

  In only a breath of time, he'd either spear her like a fish or fill this water with his madra and dissolve her. Maybe both. But his rage couldn't compare to hers.

  Which made her drop her guard.

  Yerin's relationship to her unwelcome guest had changed in the last week. It was free now, but she'd shown it whose sword was sharper. It was quieter, but she couldn't shake the thought that it was smarter now too. It had been a caged wolf before, and now it was a lurking killer, biding its time.

  And now it slipped its collar.

  The Shadow boiled out of her, a mass of blood madra that stretched out of her back and formed into a copy of her swimming by her side. The Blood Shadow wasn't an exact reflection; it looked almost like a Remnant version of her, built of all sharp, jagged angles and covered in red paint. Two thin arms stretched from its shoulders and flattened into blades, matching her own silver Goldsigns. It carried no sword, but its fingertips sharpened into points.

  She tried to restrain it, but it had already passed her control. At this second, they wanted the same thing.

  The Shadow melted, oozing out of the water globe and falling toward Bai Rou. It didn't care much for anything that would hold a regular body back. Madra would have stopped it, but normal water did about as much good as a screen umbrella.

  Bai Rou pushed his technique toward the Shadow, and this was more than just a fistful of rain. It was a stream of Amberwell madra that coiled like a dragon, diving at the blood spirit. It cut right through the Blood Shadow's left arm, which sent a spike of pain through the parasite. Yerin could feel it, but she wouldn't say it hurt her. It was more like hearing about someone else losing an arm.

  The Blood Shadow took the injury as the cost of doing business, turning its fall into a lunge without a care.

  The blades on its shoulders struck like a pair of scorpion stings, carrying Striker techniques with them. Its Rippling Swords were stained red, carrying as much power from blood as from the sword.

  She hadn't known it could do that.

  Any other time, she would have been disgusted and horrified to see her Path of the Endless Sword techniques used by this creature, but now...now she just wanted Bai Rou to hurt.

  He slipped to the side, feet sliding across the waves as though he stood on slick stone, dodging the first at the same time as a burst of yellow madra dispersed the second.

  Her Blood Shadow landed on him.

  It clung to him like a monkey to a tree, driving its clawed hands and its Goldsigns into his body. He twisted his head, pushing blades aside so he took everything on his armor. But Skysworn armor was famous for a reason.

  Green light flared within the plates, and a pulse of emerald wind madra blasted out from him, shoving everything away. The Shadow was thrown backwards, splashing into the ocean.

  But he'd tried to split his concentration too many ways. His Ruler technique fell apart.

  Yerin dropped as the water around her rained back down. Cycling underwater was like trying to push gravel through your channels, so she hadn't bothered using any other techniques while she couldn't breathe. Her lungs were on fire, but that wasn't even close to the top of her mind.

  And she'd never released her Flowing Sword. The blade shone like a silver star in her hand, a bonfire of madra and aura. It carried power like a Truegold's weapon, and she was about to see how it stacked up against his armor.

  She angled herself to fall next to him, raising her sword for a strike. He was just turning away from the Blood Shadow, his perception sweeping through her spirit with a shiver. She gave a cheer in her heart; he was too late. She had him.

  Then a black spear pierced her through the chest.

  She'd set her eyes on Bai Rou, so she had no warning until she felt the hot pain beneath her collar. A black point, thin as a finger, stretched from her robes.

  Her lungs seized up. Her spirit fought against the dark madra passing through her, which was a contest her spirit easily won. The black branch dissolved within a second, but it had enough to disrupt her techniques. The power blew away from her sword like dust on the wind, and she splashed into the sea.

  The pain vanished when the madra did, and she touched her skin with her fingertips. No wound. It didn't even feel bruised.

  Her fury surged again, and she twisted in the water, pushing madra back into her sword. Her core was all but empty, with only scraps left, but she'd go at Bai Rou with her teeth if she had to.

  A black tendril, like a burnt tree root, wrapped around her. She slashed it away, but three more replaced it, cradling her and hauling her back through the waves. She struggled, but she wasn’t far from shore. The branches pulled her back to shore, and she rolled onto her feet, pushing her way free.

  Mercy stood there panting, covered in sand, her ponytail undone. The dark madra extended from her oil-gloved hand. She had taken his side.

  Yerin cycled the last of her madra through her weapon, preparing the Endless Sword, but Mercy released her own technique and collapsed back onto the sand, panting. “That’s…harder than…it looks,” she said through labored breaths.

  The Blood Shadow faded to red light, which streamed out of the ocean and into Yerin’s back. It slid into her spirit, coiling around her core weakened and unsatisfied. Yerin felt about the same.

  She paced to the side, keeping her sword on Mercy and her perception locked on Bai Rou. He hadn’t moved. Why?

  Mercy’s staff lay next to her, the eyes of its dragon-head glowing violet, but she didn’t reach for it. “We can’t fight each other,” she said quietly.

  Yerin gave a weak, angry laugh. She reversed her sword, plunging it into the beach an inch from Mercy, but the Akura girl didn’t flinch.

  “We? You’ve buried me.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “You think he’ll let me walk away now? That’s my one chance gone.” Yerin stood over Mercy, rage and the frustration of failure boiling inside her.

  Mercy held up her hands, showing them empty. “I thought we should be more worried about them.” She pointed both hands up at the sky.

  Since the portal vanished, Yerin had kept her spirit locked on Bai Rou. Now, she finally noticed the rest of the world.

  A golden cloud hovered only a hundred feet over them: a Thousand-Mile Cloud big enough to hold several houses. How had they not seen that when they arrived? How had they not felt the ones riding it? In her spirit, they shone like burning lamp-oil.

  One of those questions was answered as another veil dropped on another side of the island. Its presence felt wild, savage, eager for battle. A thousand beasts roared along with the rising power, shaking the forest. Winged creatures took to the sky in a cloud.

  But she could understand veils. She didn’t understand how the air could part only a few yards from her, revealing a towering black castle that stretched from the beach into the forest. It cast its shadow over her and Mercy both. It looked like it had been dropped from the sky, with half-crushed trees emerging from its foundation, but she didn’t hear the crunch. Had they been like that all this time, and her eyes had been tricked?

  The whole palace was surrounded by a smooth rectangular outer wall, its only visible opening a pair of tall, spiked gates. From behind those gates, Yerin sensed darkness, fear, and endless despair.

  Veils continued to drop all around the forest, so powerful that she was sure some of these forces had to contain Underlords at least. From the far shore, she felt a familiar feeling of nauseating slaughter: a Blood Shadow. Maybe more than one.

  Powerless, Yerin dropped to the sand next to Mercy. They had never been alone on this island. They were surrounded.

  ~~~

  The instant the portal was destroyed, Yan Shoumei was overcome with anger. Her Blood Shadow picked up on her agitation and started to flow towar
d the Lowgold.

  It wasn’t just her agitation. Something about his thin, white replacement arm stoked her Shadow’s appetite, which was a complication she didn’t need.

  She remembered herself just in time and pulled it back. Ziel, the horned boy from the Wasteland, was nearby, and she knew him by reputation. He was known to wait on the sidelines for an advantage. The second she struck at the Lowgold, he would take advantage of her distraction and hit her while she was distracted.

  There was no love lost between Redmoon Hall and the sacred artists of the Wasteland. Especially not now, after the Dreadgod’s rampage.

  Instead, keeping an eye on Ziel, she drew her Shadow back into a cloak around herself and began backing away. Contrary to her expectations, he wasn't looking at her at all. He was staring at the broken portal frame with a dead look on his face.

  Maybe he didn't have a gatestone. Shoumei had no doubt that the gold dragon and the Akura did, so if Ziel did not, he might end up as the only one trapped here in this pocket world. If so, she might owe that Lowgold thanks.

  ...though her anger returned when she thought of having to crack her gatestone. Each of those represented days of work from a Sage or better; they were not handed out frivolously.

  It was meant to save her life from a situation of certain death. Breaking it to replace what should have been a free trip home was frustrating at best.

  She backed up until she felt the cool air coming off the wall of water behind her. Ziel was staring at the portal, either lost in despair or in contact with his master. Harmony was cycling still, and thank the heavens for that. He even made her Blood Shadow shiver. Ekerinatoth and the turtle were engaged in battle, while the Lowgold scrambled around to recover something in the sand.

  According to the truce, none of them were allowed to leave this habitat until all six faction representatives arrived. They were still waiting on the young prince of the Tidewalker sect and the delegate from the Ninecloud Court.

  However, without the portal, there was no point in waiting. The treaty had been decided by the higher-ups in each faction, so Shoumei should never violate it on purely her own judgment, but...

  She slipped into the dark water.

  The Sage of Red Faith would applaud her decision. Even if some supervising Heralds could sense what was happening here, they wouldn't blame her when she wasn't the one to break the pact.

  No one followed her, or even noticed her leave. She was free to hunt.

  ~~~

  Ekerinatoth snapped another whip at the retreating dragon-turtle. It cut a satisfying chunk out of his shell, but her opponent didn't turn. Instead, he used that Enforcer technique of his to dash away and follow his human through the bubble of water aura containing the vast ocean of Ghostwater.

  She lashed her golden tail in irritation. A black dragon's Remnant could fetch a pile of high-quality scales if you knew the right buyer, and she did. Its shell would have made a decent decoration, or the foundation for a seventh-grade refinery. That was at least a hundred medium-grade scales. And who knew what was left in that box the human was carrying?

  He at least had that sapphire construct, which she suspected was connected to Ghostwater. If that were true, the Heralds would pay her in top-quality scales. Her tongue flickered out involuntarily.

  She would have had them already, if not for Harmony.

  Ekeri glanced back at the young Akura on the boulder. It singed her pride that she had to restrict her techniques to avoid disturbing a human, but pride was nothing before the reality of strength. She had to admit, she'd never personally seen a Truegold sacred artist with as much skill as this Akura elite. She'd known Underlord-level dragons who didn't put as much pressure on her spirit.

  She almost drooled at the thought of what riches he must be carrying on him. He'd have a void key on him somewhere, which might even contain treasures from Akura Malice herself. Her master would be pleased with her if she could turn over something that embarrassed the Akura clan. He may even bestow his smile upon her in person.

  Ekeri brought herself back to reality. She'd gotten lost in daydreams again, which was a long-time habit of hers.

  Drawing one claw down the wall of dark water, she snapped her tail. Immediately, her two attendants—in their plain white robes—appeared behind her. They were only Lowgold, but their Path was designed specifically to serve leaders like her.

  “Contact the Herald,” she ordered. “Describe to her the situation, and tell her that the others won't be arriving. The portal has been destroyed. I request permission to begin immediately.”

  The two attendants bowed, but before they could do anything, Ekeri's world softened to white.

  “Ekerinatoth of the gold bloodline,” a smooth, overwhelming voice echoed in her very soul.

  This was not the voice of a Herald.

  She fell to her knees in awe, tears hot on her face to hear her name spoken in this voice. “I see you,” he said. “I am with you. You may begin.”

  Ekeri took the time for one last bow, wriggling in the sand to show her deference, and then shot off into the water.

  She did not dare to delay the orders of the Monarch of Dragons even a second longer.

  ~~~

  Akura Harmony breathed darkness.

  This habitat was bright, but endless night pressed in from all directions outside. With concentration, he could filter shadow aura from the water outside and draw it into himself, purifying and refining the shadow in his core.

  He was at the peak of Truegold, only a small step from Underlord. His soulspace was filled, and a spark of soulfire waited at the heart of his soul. This sort of ordinary cycling would do very little for him until he broke through to the Lord realm.

  But Harmony was not a man who skipped steps. If he had to wait, he would cycle. When he had a moment free, he would train. When he finished training, he would train some more.

  There were others of his relatives that were closer to becoming Akura Malice's heir than he was, but they were generations older than Harmony. And they might decide to ascend, to wherever it was that Sages and Heralds went instead of staying and becoming Monarchs.

  Harmony intended to face that choice himself one day. And to get there, he couldn't waste a single breath.

  These others had disrupted him with their noise, so he had struck out at them. That was as far as he allowed them to occupy his attention. He hadn’t even bothered to reach out his spiritual perception and scan them; it would be too much of a distraction from his cycling.

  His grand-aunt's voice echoed inside him, though it sounded younger than his own.

  “Begin,” the Sage of the Silver Heart ordered him.

  Without a second's hesitation, Harmony opened his eyes and stood, marching into the darkness. Even Ziel of the Wasteland had departed already, so he was the last to leave. That did not bother him.

  Only the Akura family knew about the true prize at the heart of Ghostwater. While he feasted, the others would fight over scraps.

  He had no rivals here.

  ~~~

  Eithan kept his smile on for the Imperial clerk, trying not to show the woman his irritation.

  “I don't want to inconvenience His Imperial Majesty, of course,” he said. “That's why I'm doing it this way. He requested that I not show up in his chambers anymore without an audience, so I'm requesting an audience.”

  The clerk sniffed. A Truegold woman of seventy, she reminded him of a taller Fisher Gesha; her gray hair was pulled up into a bun, and she looked like she was strict on her grandchildren.

  She sat behind a desk in the Imperial palace in Blackflame City, inside an unassuming office that would have looked more at home in one of the Arelius family's administrative centers. As an Underlord, he was allowed into the palace uninvited, but he was still supposed to request an audience with the Emperor.

  He had expected this part of the process to be simple.

  “During this time of emergency, all Underlords are expected to contribute to t
he defense of the Empire. The Emperor will not see any Underlords unless they have information contributing to the emergency effort, or unless they represent the interests of a major family or clan.” She looked him up and down. “You are no longer the Patriarch of the Arelius family, so you do not have the standing to make such a request.”

  Eithan had known this would cause him no end of trouble. Cassias and his father had taken the title of Patriarch away from him in order to bring him to heel. When the threat of Redmoon Hall was behind them, he would have to make his irritation abundantly clear.

  He calmed himself, focusing on the cycle of his madra. “Ah, I see the confusion. I have information that is vital to the fight against Redmoon Hall. But it is very sensitive. I'm afraid I can only speak to the Emperor himself.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “She said you'd say that.”

  He could have asked who she meant, but he had a good guess. Eithan turned, calling out to the hallway. “By she, I'm guessing she means you.”

  There was a moment of hesitation as Naru Saeya struggled with herself in the hall. After a few seconds, she straightened her spine and walked straight up to the door.

  The Emperor's younger sister was a famous beauty, and she bristled with barely contained energy. Her wings were folded behind her back, and she wore a fan of peacock feathers over one ear.

  Saeya marched up to Eithan without another moment of hesitation. “If you really have information, you can give it to me. I'll take it to His Imperial Majesty.”

  He gave her a deep bow, complete with a flourish of his outer robe. “Your generosity moves my spirit, but I'm afraid I can speak only to your brother.”

  She pushed the heel of her hand against her forehead as though struggling with a headache. “I've been in the city for no more than a day, and I'm back out to the battlefield tomorrow. While I've been here, I've dealt with emergency requests from every sect, school, and family in the Empire. My patience is long dead. If you don't want me to kick you from here to the Trackless Sea, then tell me what you want.”

  “I want a spot in the Skysworn,” he said immediately. “I have two promising students that I believe can become Underlords for our Empire, and I'm hoping to scoop up a third. They're gaining some experience as part of the Skysworn, but I have to be there to guide them personally.”