He held it on Lindon, scanning him for so long that the shivering sensation became somewhat uncomfortable, but his eyes widened with every second. He finally brushed it over Yerin, then bowed deeply over his fists pressed together.
“You have benefited greatly from surviving the outside, young Shi Lindon, to have reached Jade at such a young age.”
Those close enough to hear exclaimed, and even Teris stiffened. Amon’s head swiveled to stare at Lindon.
“May I ask, what news have you come to bring us?”
Lindon had prepared his words in advance. “The earthquakes are signs of a coming disaster. A mad beast powerful enough to destroy the entire valley. We bring help from outside, and a way to flee before the beast arrives.”
Lindon couldn’t name the expression on the Tenth Elder’s face, but he bowed again. “That…is…difficult to hear, young Lindon. Come, present your case to the Patriarch.”
As far as Lindon could recall, he’d never met the Tenth Elder. Elders tended to have better things to do than to meet with Unsouled. The First Elder was only an exception because he had taken something of a personal interest in Lindon from Lindon’s first madra test.
The Tenth Elder led Lindon and Yerin past a network of hallways and a maze of curious, whispering people.
“You fast friends with these elders?” Yerin asked.
“There is one that I think will listen to me.”
“If I had to take a blind stab, I’d say it’s not your Patriarch.”
“He probably hates me.”
The Patriarch of the Wei clan had only taken special notice of Lindon once. It had been when Lindon defied him, then cheated his grandson Amon out of a coveted position in the Heaven’s Glory School.
If the Patriarch remembered Lindon for anything else, it would be disappearing and bringing down Heaven’s Glory on the Wei clan.
[It’s too bad he doesn’t remember getting his heart ripped out,] Dross mentioned. [Wait. That did happen, right?]
Yes, it did.
The invader from outside the world had killed the Patriarch shortly before he’d torn Lindon in half. Lindon remembered it clearly.
Dross gave a sigh of relief. [So that memory is real. I’d thought you said it was. Unless I remembered that wrong.]
Since they’d found out that some of Lindon’s memories of Suriel had been protected, so Dross couldn’t view them accurately, Lindon had gone over every inch and let Dross know what was accurate and what wasn’t.
But Dross continued to doubt. The knowledge that some of his own memories couldn’t be trusted had shaken him.
The Tenth Elder finally stopped and, without ceremony, threw open a perfectly ordinary door.
Lindon had somewhat expected to be beckoned into a great meeting hall, like the Hall of Elders where the Jades usually addressed the rest of the clan.
But this was just a family dining room.
Twelve men and women were inside the room. Eleven elders and the Patriarch. Most sat around a large dining table, though some sat on mismatched chairs or knelt on cushions around the walls.
The Patriarch, Wei Jin Sairus, paced in front of them all at the far end of the room with his hands clasped behind him. He had a mane like a gray lion, and Lindon remembered him as the picture of strength.
Though he’d never thought of it before, the Wei Patriarch of his memories gave him a similar impression to Reigan Shen. Powerful, regal, with the power and mane of a lion.
The Wei Jin Sairus of reality was…lacking.
His face was heavily creased, his build was flabbier than Lindon remembered, and the weakness of his spirit made him feel pathetic. He was considered perhaps the greatest fighter in the Wei clan, but from Lindon’s perspective he was no better than the other Jades in the room.
The Patriarch was speaking as they entered. “…Kazan deception cannot be discounted. While I myself doubt that they can mobilize a boundary formation of this scale, we must be half trusting and twice cunning. We will seize one of their southern fields and test their reactions.”
Some of the other elders had looked around at the opening door, but the Tenth Elder was clearly waiting for the Patriarch to finish speaking so he could introduce the visitors.
An ancient man with a white beard down to his waist examined them carefully. He stood in a corner, as though positioned to watch everyone else in the room, and he had turned his scrutiny to the newcomers.
Lindon didn’t feel any spiritual sense on him, but his stomach churned nonetheless.