a device with the corresponding script to the anchor beneath them, so they had a route back to Moongrave.
But he wasn’t sure he could make it all the way to Sacred Valley, much less come back. And there was no way he could bring back more people than he started with.
Which meant there would be only one reason to go back.
To stall the Titan.
His mother was breathing heavily, a notepad clutched to her chest. “Going back?” A general stir of terrified confusion passed through the Sacred Valley residents in the room.
“Don’t be stupid,” Jaran said, rapping his cane on the floor.
Kelsa slumped into a chair. She looked exhausted, and tears had run tracks in the ash and dust caking her face, but her voice was firm. “It wouldn’t be fair to you to go back. You owe them nothing. In fact, everyone who escaped owes you all their lives.”
Lindon’s sister turned to him, straightened her back in the chair, and dipped her head. “Gratitude.”
Repeated bows and murmurs of “Gratitude” passed through the room.
They weren’t bowing just to him, but to all the outsiders: Eithan, Mercy, Yerin, and Orthos. But those four looked to Lindon.
This was his home. They were only here because of him. And they would go back if he asked them to.
But what was he going to do? Fight a Dreadgod to buy time in the hopes that a few more people might get away? It might already be too late; the Titan may have crashed through Mount Samara and killed everyone by now.
Lindon could theoretically affect a Dreadgod, but theoretically a child with a sharpened stick could kill a tiger.
He had never stopped rolling Suriel’s marble between his fingers, and now he held it up. All this power, he had gained to protect Sacred Valley.
Now, he didn’t know what to do.
For the second time in a day, he gripped the marble and prayed.
I don’t know what to do. Help me.
Unknown Location
The Way
[Report complete,] Suriel’s Presence said.
As Suriel drifted along the blue rivers that made up the basis of all existence, she caught up on the diversion that she had allowed to distract her for the last few standard years: the journey of Wei Shi Lindon.
He had grown faster than she had expected. Faster than most models of him had predicted, though at the time, she hadn’t realized how much Ozriel’s meddling had changed things. Or how Makiel’s alterations would speed Cradle’s destiny.
By all odds, Lindon should have been dead by now, but here he was, debating whether to go back and face down a Dreadgod. She looked forward to his choice.
[The battle with the Vroshir might make it difficult to get further news from Cradle,] her Presence reminded her. [Probability of future delay is very high.]
She considered that. As always, her Presence didn’t speak solely in words, but also in thoughts and impressions, meaning conveyed directly into her mind.
It was reminding her that, the next time she got news from Cradle, there was every chance that Lindon would be dead.
Cradle would be protected even in the most extreme circumstances of the war, so she didn’t fear for the world itself too much. The Vroshir would have to extend themselves on several fronts and sacrifice valuable worlds to penetrate Sector Eleven.
They didn’t work that way. They were bandits, after as much bounty as they could with as little risk to themselves as possible.
The one exception was the Mad King, and Suriel went to face him now.
And she didn’t need her Presence to remind her that it might not be Wei Shi Lindon who died first. Despite all odds and projections, it was a possibility that he might outlive her.
Do you have a suggestion? Suriel asked.
Her Presence had its personality tuned down—she liked conversation, and would have enjoyed a more expressive companion, but she found chatty Presences unprofessional. Still, that didn’t mean the construct had nothing to say.
[Beacon located,] the Presence said, transmitting the image of the sealed marble containing Suriel’s power. Lindon was currently rolling it in his hands, trying to make a decision. [Temporal synchronization possible. Communication possible. Expected delay to final destination: point-zero-four-three seconds.]
Suriel had given Lindon the marble so that she could find him again if and when he ascended. Or possibly when he faced the choice of whether or not to ascend. This was too early, and her Presence knew that.
Then again, that was only something she had decided herself. She hadn’t spoken any sort of oath.
And Lindon had manifested an Icon, even brushing