who’d fallen would be safe, thanks to an Iron body or simply the luck of the fall.
The Akura Truegold looked at him strangely. “Regrettably, we have to leave. The Sage told us to prioritize our own lives at the first sign of the Titan’s approach.”
Some of the other Golds had already begun flying away, but she glanced to the Patriarch and his family. “We can take a handful with us,” she said. “Including you, of course.”
Ziel was already watching the nearby Patriarch and his family give orders and instruction. The column behind them stopped, as most people Ziel could see stared at the golden sky in horror, and their four children clustered around their mother’s knees.
He could guarantee they, at least, were safe. But if everyone saw the Patriarch’s family flying to safety, there would be even more panic.
“Make the offer,” he said to her in a low voice. “And please, don’t leave without taking some of them with you. Emphasize families with children.”
The Truegold woman reached out to a construct strapped to her wrist. “I’ll call them back. But once we fill our clouds, we’re leaving.”
“Good. Don’t take chances with a Dreadgod.”
Ziel settled wearily down on his own cloud, shutting his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see the Titan’s tinted sky.
“You can lead the way,” she said. “We’ll catch up to you.”
“I’ll stick with them a while longer. Don’t know how far they’ll make it without me around.”
There was a long pause before she said, “Yes, Archlord.”
“I’m not an Archlord,” he said automatically.
Though, he realized, his channels hadn’t felt like they were full of needles when he’d tossed out so many techniques in a handful of seconds. That wouldn’t make him an Archlord, even outside—he’d settle for being as capable as an Underlord—but it was a cheering thought.
Or it would cheer him, once there wasn’t a Dreadgod looming overhead.
“Of course, Archlord.”
She was mocking him. He cracked one eye, where the Truegold woman took a moment from staring worriedly at the western horizon to give him a brief smile.
She was young, if she still had the spirit to needle him with the Wandering Titan bearing down on them. Although, now that he thought of it, she couldn’t be more than five years younger than he was.
What a difference a life made.
“What’s your name?” he asked, for the first time.
“Akura Shira, Archlord.” So a close enough relative that she got the clan name, but not close to the head family. Otherwise she would have been named after one of their virtues, and she probably wouldn’t be stuck at Truegold.
“We were introduced when I was assigned to you,” she went on.
“Yeah, but I wasn’t paying attention. Stop dragging your feet and get out of here, Shira.”
Her brow creased in worry, and she looked from him to the clouds flying away, now with small Kazan families in tow. “If you don’t leave now, you’ll miss the cloudships.”
“Don’t worry, I know better than to stick around.”
Surviving one Dreadgod attack was enough for a lifetime. The second he saw an inch of the Wandering Titan’s tail, he was gone.
Until then, he could afford to wait for a little while.
Yerin reappeared a long way from where she meant to end up.
She generally recognized the spot. She was in between Mount Yoma to the north and Mount Somara to the east, in a grove of those purple-leafed orus trees. She wasn’t too far away from Orthos as he led the natives from the Fallen Leaf School to Heaven’s Glory, as she felt his presence. She’d be able to pinpoint him if she could focus her perception for a real scan.
The problem was, her Moonlight Bridge wasn’t supposed to miss.
Every time she’d used it before, she had just imagined where she wanted to end up, and the Bridge had taken her there. This time, it was off. Why?
Might be because I’m falling to pieces.
She had arrived on hands and knees, heaving air into scorched lungs, every breath coming out with a cough. Her whole body felt weak, her spirit ached, and she saw the trees only through a haze of pain, tears, and fury.
The Moonlight Bridge hadn’t worked quite right ever since they’d crossed the border to Sacred Valley. It took more out of her than it should.
Lindon had speculated that it was drawing on her willpower to make up for the authority that was being suppressed by Sacred Valley’s script, but he was just guessing.
Didn’t mean he was wrong. But it meant that she was lost