Daine stared at Eliud, her lips parting to form a question, but before the words could leave her mouth, Donal beat her to it.
"Let me get this straight," he began, his voice loaded with incredulity. "And, just so we’re clear, I fully recognise that my new Class has a tendency to be a bit... shall we say, ‘glass smashed down to fragments and all the liquid poured away’ about it. So, consider this a ‘take it with a pinch of salt’ moment. But I’m fairly sure I won’t be alone in asking: are you out of your Goddess-damned mind?"
His arms were thrown wide, palms up, the kind of gesture that screamed utter disbelief. His usual snark had transformed into something far more visceral—fuelled by something deeper than just irritation. It was that mix of frustration, concern, and a twist of something darker, like a warning shot from a bowstring pulled too tight. Daine felt the pure anger of it settle between them all, the kind of tension that could snap at any second.
The roar that came into the man's voice took them all by surprise: Josul bounded in front of a wide-eyed Genoes, barking and snapping; Savage puffed up to twice her normal size on Kirstin's shoulder, the girl’s eyes flashing purple as she summoned a Skill; and Daine's hand was immediately on her sword's hilt.
In fact, the only person who did not react was the focus of Donal's rage, who simply smiled back.
"Regularly, sir. But on this occasion, I do think, on this occasion, I have the right of it."
The two men stood there, locked in a silent standoff, and Daine couldn’t help but feel a surge of anxiety.
There was a certain inevitability to all this, though. A truism she’d learned well in the Kingdom: Eliud Vila, the Duskstrider, was a walking disaster waiting for the right moment to erupt. Daine herself had been away on Tour when the whole debacle that led to his banishment unfolded, but the rumours had travelled faster than any messenger. Even with the embellishments added in, she doubted much of the story had been exaggerated.
A Pendragon will do what a Pendragon will do, Old Gant had always said, shaking his head knowingly. And the rest of us? We just keep out of their way.
Daine had never seen a reason to doubt that assessment.
If anything, she thought it more true now than ever.
Watching Eliud, his purple eyes and that dangerous smirk barely concealing a storm waiting to burst, made her worried for what the next few moments would bring.
Yet, to see Donal confront him like this . . . well, Daine was not certain that the outcome would be a foregone conclusion. And, judging by the slight creasing to the corner of Eliud's eyes, her friend shared that thought.
Donal broke the silence. "You propose using a boy - a boy with no Class and no Skills - to open a portal between the Dark God's realm and our own."
"I can do it!" Genoes said defiantly, trying to move past Josul.
The grim man's attention shifted, and a reassuring smile came to his face. Daine saw something of the old Donal in that. "I don't doubt your courage, Genoes. But it is reprehensible for you to be put in that position." He turned back to Eliud. "From what I have read of your Class - and I have read wildly and widely - you have all sorts of portal Skills at your disposal. If anyone should be sending us back, it is you!"
Eliud shrugged. "I was never a fan of some of the more elaborate legends that have bloomed around me."
"That would be a lot more convincing,” Kirstin snorted, “if your Inventory was not full of well-thumbed scrolls called things like 'The Irresistible Rise of the Duskstrider' and 'Eliud: Hero of our Age.'"
Daine smiled at the blush that spread over the mage's face. "To be fair," she added, enjoying his discomfort, "he only commissioned about half of those."
"I feel we are getting away from the point somewhat,” Eliud said, clearing his throat. “What I would say to . . . I am sorry, how would you like me to address you?"
"Donal is fine."
"If you wish. Although that is quite the exotic Class you are currently inhabiting. Are you sure you would not like me to acknowledge you as . . . "
“Do not test me, Duskstrider."
Daine frowned. Was there something she was missing about Donal's warrior-aspected Class?
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"As you say, Donal, as you say," Eliud continued,"Now, where was I? Ah, yes. Portals. As you so astutely pointed out, I am generally seen as an expert in such matters. Need your army dropped anywhere across the Kingdom? I’m your man. Got an assassin who needs to be slipped into a well-guarded castle, no questions asked? Easy. I can do all that and more. However," he paused for dramatic effect, conjuring two small spheres of crackling light in his hands, a thin thread of lightning arcing between them, "my powers are largely realm-dependent. And, unfortunately, the intricacies of ‘reality bending’ are not exactly as flexible as my more mundane talents. It’s a bit like trying to fit a boulder through a keyhole."
As he spoke, the first sphere of light transformed into a miniature representation of their group. With amusement, Daine noted that the tiny version of Eliud was at least half a foot taller than he was in reality.
For such a powerful man, he really was spectacularly insecure at times.
"In the normal run of things," the Duskstrider continued, "I would be able to blip us from Point A to Point B with a minimum of fuss." The group vanished from one hand and reappeared in the other. "However, within this realm, I find myself . . . geographically challenged."
Daine frowned at that. "Your Skills do not work?"
"They are 'working' just fine, my Lady," Eliud replied, arcs of lightning flaring from his eyes, crackling down to spark at Donal's feet. The display was spectacular, threatening, and entirely lost on its target, as Donal didn’t even blink.
"However," Eliud said. "I find myself unable to identify Point A, as it were."
"You don't know where we are?" Kirstin asked, and Daine noted the way she was cradling her new bow in a far more attentive way than previously. Something had changed there.
"I know precisely where I am," Eliud assured them, with a hint of offended pride. "A Pendragon is never lost—let's be very clear on that. But, as much as it pains me to admit, I seem rather incapable of planting any kind of anchor point here. And, to speak plainly, I am starting to suspect that 'here' might not exist in any…traditional sense."
“Your patron—” he turned to Daine – “does she have anything enlightening to offer us in this place?"
Daine reached inward, calling out to the Goddess. Silence. No whisper, no warmth, just an absence. It was a pattern she had come to recognise. She shook her head, and Eliud’s expression darkened.
“Ah, delightful,” Eliud sighed, folding his arms with exaggerated patience. “Nothing like a god’s silence right at the edge of oblivion. But,” he went on, “I don’t suppose it changes much. Now, if I were a betting man—which, naturally, I am not, as I find betting to be spectacularly unfair on…well, everyone else—I’d wager that this lovely little corner of the Dark God's realm is a bit…shall we say, untethered from time.”
Genoes looked up, brow furrowed, clearly curious. "Untethered? Like… a kite?"
"Precisely," Eliud said, giving him a small, amused nod. "Though, in this case, imagine a kite flown by a particularly chaotic deity with very questionable motives, and the string... well, it may not actually exist."
“Perfect,” Daine muttered. “A god’s loose kite string—just what we needed.”
"That would fit with my understanding of such things, too,” Donal said. “Whilst the manipulation of time's eddies may be more associated with the Goddess, it has been documented that the Lords of Misrule and the Dark God possess a similar capacity. Thus, it would seem appropriate for this realm to exist outside our normal perception of time."
Daine thought Eliud looked less than delighted with the contribution. "Well, yes. Thank you for that. Well, what this means is that my myriad of portal Skills find themselves to be functionally useless without a stable point of origin. And if this realm is nothing else, it is certainly not stable."
As if in answer to Eliud's words, the Keep shivered, the stone corridors appearing to tremble.
"So where does Genoes come in?" Daine asked when the tremor passed.
"Well," and Eliud beamed, "this is where it all becomes very interesting. Whilst it appears that my Class and its attendant Skills are rather 'real world' aspected, our little powerhouse here seems to have no such restrictions."
"You said it yourself, he doesn't have any Skills!" Donal protested. "All he can do is copy what you are showing him!"
"Imitation is the most sincere form of flattery I have always found, dear sir. And what better Skills for Genoes to recreate than one that will be able to get us home?"
"I understand how to do it," Genoes said, craning his neck to look up at Donal. "I don't know why, but I can see what Eliud wants me to do, and my . . . my mana just responds." His eyes flicked upwards, and a frown appeared on his face. "It wants me to create a Skill called
Eliud nodded. "Yes, that's what I would be planning to use. And, forgive me, you can remember the shape of the Skill without needing to formalise it into your Core?"
"Yes," Genoes said simply. "It would be quicker to have a name for it, I think, but I can recreate the steps."
The boy's eyes glowed, and a swirling circle of yellow light appeared against the wall behind them. Through it, Daine could make out the peaks of the Bloodspires.
"And he doesn't need an anchor point?" Donal said, a note of wonder replacing the gruffness of his tone.
"Not as far as I can tell. Genoes seems to . . . to exist in this realm in a way the rest of us do not."
At those words, Daine saw a look pass between Donal and Eliud that she did not like much. She had spent nigh-on thirty years on Tour, and one of the first things she had learned - and had been reminded with regularity - was that nothing good came from secrets.
"What is it?" she asked.
Another look between them. "Sirs, I mean this was all due respect, but regardless of whatever esoteric powers you might both possess, I am firmly of the opinion that I am more than capable of boxing your collective ears. If there's something you think we need to know about this plan, then you need to speak it."
Surprisingly, it was Genoes who answered. "They're worried that although you will be able to pass through the portal, I might not be. If I'm linked to the Dark God's realm in some way, they think I might be . . . I don't know how to describe it."
The Goddess's voice suddenly chimed in Daine's head.
Shadowbound. It may well be the boy has become Shadowbound. I am so sorry.