Lindon had only seen Emriss Silentborn in the form of a giant tree, but he recognized her immediately. Her skin was dark, like most of her competitors in the tournament, but hers had the consistency of bark. Her hair was made of luminous blue-green vines braided together, and she carried a staff with a blooming diamond flower at the tip.
She wore a look of great sadness, and Lindon couldn’t tell if something had happened or if this was how she always appeared.
Three members of the Eight-Man Empire muttered to one another, and Lindon reminded himself that he technically wasn’t the only one who hadn’t reached Monarch. The gold-armored figures were considered a Monarch collectively, but independently they were only Sages or Heralds.
Only.
The three spoke to one another, but they were focused on Northstrider and didn’t look happy.
Seshethkunaaz, King of Dragons, was in the form of a boy perhaps thirteen years old. He had sandy hair and bright gold eyes, and he sat on the floor, most of his body covered in a filthy brown cape.
He glared at Akura Malice, who wasn’t watching him in return. She lounged on a Forged throne of shadows, purple eyes locked on Lindon.
Mercy’s mother was a beauty out of paintings and legends. Her hair flowed out behind her like liquid shadow, reminding him of her son Fury, and she wore a silken dress of purple and silver. A network of silver chains hung in her hair, dangling a fat amethyst over her forehead. Her eyes were a deeper, richer shade of purple than her descendants, and they rippled with subtle light.
Full, black-painted lips tilted up in a smirk, and she winked at him.
He wasn’t sure if he was meant to be honored or entranced, but he broke into a cold sweat. Further attention from Monarchs brought indescribable risk.
Then again, he had just represented her in the Uncrowned King tournament. If he made a good impression, she might be inclined to reward him.
He bowed respectfully to her, pressing his fists together.
Her smile grew a fraction.
The room’s final occupant was a presence of multicolored light. It was shaped vaguely like a woman, but the rainbow was too bright to make out any features.
The Luminous Queen of the Ninecloud Court. Supposedly Sha Leiala.
For a long moment after Lindon arrived, no one spoke, which gave him plenty of time to survey the room. He wondered what they were waiting for and hoped that his abrupt entrance wasn’t what had delayed them.
Finally, one of the Eight-Man Empire spoke up. “What have you done, Northstrider?” the man demanded.
“Did you promise the Abidan your service?” the Dragon King asked. He was still watching Malice, but he clearly addressed Northstrider. “Is that how you summoned them? Will they restore your champion to his full power?”
Emriss Silentborn gave a great sigh. “The arrowhead will bring only pain and discord, so close to the Wandering Titan’s awakening. For the good of all, we should make a pact between us to use Penance to remove a Dreadgod.”
“Why destroy such a valuable weapon?” Reigan said, watching Northstrider. “I am more interested in the fortuitous timing of heaven’s intervention. It so happens that sixteen competitors remained, allowing Northstrider to select a single-elimination round. Then an Abidan messenger descends upon us when one, and only one, competitor has been eliminated. The very young man that Northstrider has chosen to bring along to this meeting.”
Lindon shivered, but he felt no spiritual weight settle on him.
[Northstrider is shielding you from the spiritual power in the room, I’m sure,] Dross said. Lindon noticed that he didn’t call the Monarch “Master” this time.
Reigan Shen ran a hand across his white-gold beard. “Now, I humbly admit that I do not understand the plan at work here, but to blame coincidence is to strain credulity. Did you calculate all this when you stepped in as judge, Northstrider? Have you deceived us all?”
Northstrider did not step back from anyone. His shaggy head turned slowly from one Monarch to the next until he had met the eyes of all his peers.
“Did I not receive your permission for the arrangement of the fourth round?” Northstrider asked. “Each of you agreed. Each of you bickered and jockeyed for position like children, and each of you gave your word that you were satisfied with the place you had earned.”
“Our lives are at stake,” a woman from the Eight-Man Empire shouted. “We would never have settled for a certain loss if we had known that victory would come with power over life and death.”
Northstrider turned to her and spoke quietly. “Your lives? You think a weapon of the Abidan is cheap enough to waste on one replaceable piece out of eight?”
She bristled with anger, but Northstrider had looked away from her already. “Which of you is so weak-willed that you would doubt a decision you made yourself?”
“If everyone honors their given word, then I have no doubts,” Seshethkunaaz said. “If the tournament proceeds with your rules in place, I will be the victor.”
He looked over to the figure shrouded in rainbow light, who had thus far not spoken.
Sha “Leiala” raised a light-shrouded fist to her mouth and coughed. “We have no problem with continuing the tournament as planned. Quite the opposite. Because of our prior agreement, we were prepared to forfeit all prizes, but now the heavens have prepared one especially for us.”
Her voice was disguised, but anyone could tell how pleased she was.
Which reinforced Lindon’s belief. If Sha Miara was the one he remembered, then she was a veiled Monarch. Though her power was restricted to Underlord, he couldn’t imagine her losing.
“I am satisfied with the matches as agreed,” Malice said, and her voice was as rich as Lindon had imagined.
“We don’t doubt ourselves, Northstrider,” Reigan Shen said. “We doubt you.”
Northstrider took one step forward, and the tower beneath Lindon’s feet quaked. Alarm tightened his throat, though none of the other Monarchs reacted.
“I have given my word to administrate this competition,” Northstrider said quietly. “Do any of you believe I would violate my oath, even if a son of mine was competing? Do you believe that your panel of judges would have been less susceptible to influence than I am? Do you believe that I have outwitted the rest of you and manipulated matters to my own advantage beneath your very eyes?”
Reigan Shen stroked his beard and Seshethkunaaz glared, but no one accused Northstrider of anything. Still, he continued.
“Allow me to set your doubts at ease.” Once again, the tower trembled, but this time it was the resonance of the Monarch’s words that shook the ground. “I swear in the sight of heaven and on the name of Northstrider that I have arbitrated the Uncrowned King tournament without bias and to the best of my ability, and that I will continue to do so.”
Everyone else in the room except Lindon dipped their heads together, and Lindon sensed a great power pass by him and land on Northstrider.
The whole discussion settled one question for Lindon. Malice had allowed the fight between him and Yerin.
Why?
He quickly answered his own question. With two members of her faction fighting, Malice was guaranteed one spot among the Uncrowned. One of her fighters was certain to be eliminated as well, but that would still be a better arrangement for her than rolling the dice twice.