They discussed the politics of their world for a while, or rather Oliver lectured and the rest of us listened. At one point, I realized we were getting far off track. “Not to interrupt you, but where’s Clay?”

  Tad sighed. “Apparently, he’s trying to recruit adventurers who want to be power-leveled. The idea is to raise them to level 150, which for almost all of them would be an astounding leap in power.”

  “You aren’t sure about it though?”

  He shook his head. “If things go sideways with the Order, Basetown could use the extra firepower. I’ve come to realize that being a leader means accepting the sacrifices that some of your people will be called upon to make. I’ve pretty much adapted to it with the elves, but with members of the general population? Adventurers who think level fifty is high? I don’t know how I’m supposed to be comfortable with making that sacrifice.”

  “Speaking of elves,” Selena asked, looking around, “where’s Crynane? Did she go with the other elves?”

  “No, that would never happen. Her connection to me is through my Void side, whereas the other elves are connected to the Summer Court. As for where she is, she’s down in the dungeon practicing brewing. She hit level 246 like the others, thanks to your efforts and those of Master Samvek, but the elves have a secondary class. She said something about brewing so we had something to celebrate with after this is over.”

  I considered my next words carefully, because they cut to the heart of the matter. “I have to admit that I have a habit of being overconfident, but if you look at our assembled forces, I like our odds against the rank and file of the Order. The elves, Fara, Oliver, and Clay—all are well beyond level 200. Even Tad is over 200, although as we’ve seen he can be even more powerful than his level suggests when he goes all out. As I understand it, his wings increase his power further, and I have yet to see them. Then there’s me, Selena, Samvek, and Urg. Each of us is a match for multiple enemy combatants.

  “I suppose there’s a chance that their leaders are even more powerful, but the four of us are used to taking down bigger threats. Add to that the pair of golems, both powerful and disruptive in their own right. They even have enchantments which make them largely immune to the primary attacks of the Order.” I smiled as I glanced over to where the two silvery creations stood at parade rest. “Plus they look really cool.”

  “Tad might not mention this,” Fara added, “but he placed that same enchantment, Judgment Resistance, on a piece of gear that most of our team wears, other than Clay, as he wasn’t with us at the time. And don’t forget about Lexa. Even if Arbormaris doesn’t join us, Lexa said she can absorb power from her and will come back even stronger. Now, is there something else you wanted to add?”

  I nodded. “From what we’ve learned, we believe that there is an ascendant leading the Order in Basetown. While I know that there are differences between what we’re used to and how the Fey System works, I still worry about that. The last time that I fought an ascendant, I had to use a trump card with a very long cooldown that I won’t be able to count on again.”

  Samvek snorted. It was a little out of character for him, so I gave him a sidelong glance. “Sorry, I know I shouldn’t think it’s funny,” he said, “but I just remembered that doctored footage that made it seem like the hounds were mounting the matron.”

  His comment led to explaining what the Huntsman’s hounds were and retelling the story of my interaction with the Malfon matron. Samvek hadn’t been there, but the vid feeds of the scene had spread across the entire system, at least until Nico enacted his revenge upon the Malfon. I suspected that no one wanted to mention them after that.

  Silence followed for a while. Finally, Tad said, “I can’t say that I’ll be able to capture the peak state I touched upon in the past. That was part of a quest, among other things. Heck, I can’t even awaken people without help from the Ways. Does that make this endeavor hopeless?”

  Most of the time, Tad seemed so confident that I didn’t see him for what he really was—a man in his early 20s who had been thrust into a situation far beyond his scope. It was a position I was intimately familiar with, but thanks to some quality training and time dilation, I’d had better opportunities to adapt and grow. That’s when it hit me. “You know what you need Tad?”

  He shook his head.

  “Training. Maybe with my increased temporal affinity and that Time Pool spell, I’ll be able to create a time dilation that will allow you to get in some quality training before we have to face the Order.”

  “You’re forgetting, I can’t gain XP from the dungeon. Well, other than the stream I got as you all were leveling up. That’s granted me a few levels.”

  “Leveling and training aren’t remotely the same. I just happen to know one of the best trainers in the multiverse, and I bet if I ask him nicely, he’ll teach you how to fight and use your abilities to better effect.”

  Samvek nodded, but Tad didn’t seem convinced. “Wouldn’t it be better if I spent time making more magical gear for everyone?”

  “Gear is good. Levels and stats are necessary. But only training allows you to make the most of what you have to work with. Selena and I can take the rest of your people into the dungeon and train them. You’ll even gain some XP from that, but nothing can replace good old-fashioned training. Of course, this is all dependent upon my ability to actually create a temporal distortion for the two of you. I haven’t used the spell yet. There’s a chance I could revert the both of you back to your infant states.” I managed to say that last bit with a straight face.

  Tad’s eyes went wide. “That couldn’t happen, could it?”

  I smiled. “Let’s hope not.”

  Fara and Tad exchanged a glance, with her clearly prodding him to accept the offer. I understood his reluctance. He didn’t want to be a warrior. He wasn’t like me, craving the rush of battle, taking any excuse to fight. He wanted only to create, and was probably a better man than I because of it.

  “Okay, I’m in,” he said, “but there’s something else I want to let you know about that might help. I don’t know how powerful he is, but I’ve got the feeling that it’s more than he’s shown me so far, and that’s saying something.” Tad paused before finally letting the other shoe drop. “You see, I’ve sorta got this pet demon, and after seeing how you were able to get Urg here, I’m wondering if you can find a way to bring him here for longer than his normal limited stays… and help control him. Maybe he could tip the balance in our favor.”

  “Pet… pet demon?” I mumbled.

  Interlude Four: Closer Still

  The Void was truly endless, but it was not directionless. It was taking days for Azuria to figure out how it worked. Intent seemed to be the key. Complex thoughts or visualizations weren’t required. It operated at a level separate from thought. All she had to do was have an intention. A lack of knowledge in and of itself was not a limit, as long as she knew what she wanted.

  That part was simple for Azuria. She wanted to be reunited with her bonded. The tiny woman on her back wanted the same thing. Azuria had almost refused to bring her along, but Talia was persuasive, and Azuria was glad that she’d brought her bond’s mate along. Together, their intention was stronger than either would have been alone.

  Somehow, despite the fact that distance wasn’t supposed to matter here in the Void, it still required time to travel. The mystery of that annoyed her. Dragons preferred things to be simple. This was anything but.

  Still, they had made great progress. She could feel Samvek, feel that she was closer now. They were only a few days away if she had to guess, and she could persist inside the Void. Surprisingly, Talia, as soft as she was, possessed the faintest hint of the primordial about her. It likely had something to do with that man, Silas.

  He was the other problem. The closer that she got to Samvek, the more she felt a pull to another place. Someone was sending out a cry across the Void, asking for Silas to come, along with all those with him, Samvek included. It felt like that cultivator, the one who was nearly as strong as the emperor’s bonded.

  The urgency in the call made it difficult for her to ignore. Perhaps she would even let Samvek know about it once she found him. That was, of course, after she chided him for leaving without her. Azuria shook her head. He was as willful as a hatchling, convinced it could fly before it could do more than stumble around the lair. She would love him and squeeze him and call him Samvek. And if he misbehaved, she would punish him and stroke his fur the wrong way.

  Arbiter Kalix hadn’t heard from the Lawgiver, but that was likely for the best. Until he had something to share, he wouldn’t want to report. By this point, he was absolutely positive that his searches were being blocked. The seers should have been able to pinpoint the supposed fey princeling, but they claimed that every time they attempted to, their spells simply failed.

  There was no way they would have lied to him, so he didn’t think it was that. The Lawgiver hadn’t said it, but at times, he could feel some sort of resistance in this tiny world. He had barely been able to make the transition here as an ascendant. Kalix didn’t know how such a thing would be possible, but somehow, the only true god was being kept away from this world.

  That raised troubling questions, but Kalix’s mind couldn’t focus on them. Ever since he’d first been awakened by the Lawgiver, any doubts had passed. Only upon being elevated to an ascendant state had he again felt uncertainties, but they, once more, had passed. The Lawgiver was his god, his reason for existing, and the rightful ruler of all.

  Perhaps this was simply the last dying gasp of the so-called Fey System. They had always neglected humanity, and thus the true god had appeared to bring justice. Kalix felt honored to be part of that, and if he could kill a fey prince, he would be the first in nearly three millennia to do so.

  And, may the Lawgiver help him, he was looking forward to it. He would order the patrols to push harder and sleep less. He needed the entire city covered at all times. Eventually, the enemy would slip up, no matter what protections they had.

  Allanna was torn with emotion. Her partner had already preceded her and was in Basetown now. She didn’t trust the void fey she was going to meet. After all, if the man was willing to betray his own queen, then how could she ever believe anything he said? But she needed his help. His plan of starting his own kingdom on Aerth was sounding better and better with each passing day.

  Mother had made it clear that she would never be the heir, despite the fact that it wasn’t she who’d produced an offspring by rutting with a void fey. How Adrianna was still favored was beyond Allanna, but then again, she’d always had a fairly self-absorbed way of seeing the world.

  The slow boat ride was coming to an end. Three more days, and they’d reach Basetown, thanks to the winds she’d conjured. Her partner was in place, waiting for her. Their deal was simple on its face. Rathmar, the former advisor to the Void Queen, would help her to defeat the ascendant from the Order. With them out of the way, the rest wouldn’t matter.

  After that, she was supposed to retrieve Tad and bring him home to the Summer Court. There, she would receive her accolades and praise, after she spent a couple of days making sure he’d remain loyal to her. It was easy to do with the young, even if they had royal blood. In return, Rathmar was supposed to be given leave to set up his own kingdom here, and Allanna was supposed to convince her mother to recognize it.

  Little did Rathmar know that she wouldn’t be able to deliver, and in truth, she was starting to think a different approach might be in order anyway. Rathmar was barely qualified to be called an ascendant. He was strong enough to help her against the Order, but he would never have had a chance against the enemy ascendant on his own. It would be simple enough to make sure that he was injured in the battle. Then she could finish him off and claim this world for her own.

  Yes, Allanna was starting to like this plan more and more. She might even keep Tad around. As long as he was properly loyal, another fey royal would strengthen their position. He apparently had a knack for making magical items, so with some practice, he might even be able to improve her gear.

  All the pieces were falling into place. She would finally get the respect she was owed.

  Tion pressed against the dimensional barrier. He’d been stuck in the Void between realms for a while, and was trying to reenter real space. Finding Aerth had been simple. It was an old world, perhaps even the birthplace of the Fey System, although those histories remained a bit obscure even with all the tutors he’d had as a child.

  His anger built, and he had to calm himself. He was so close to their son. He would not be stymied now, but this barrier wouldn’t budge. If his mother had tried, she would have been repulsed even more harshly since she was divine tier. He was only a powerful ascendant. But his gear gave him many advantages, as did his bloodline.

  Still, it wasn’t enough. The barrier had become firmer. He cursed himself for not having attempted this sooner. The blasted enemy had managed to get an ascendant through to lead the Order. And according to his beloved, one of her sisters had been sent before the barrier to retrieve Tad. That had turned out to be a blessing. She’d been lazy, more into enjoying life than looking for her nephew.

  Adrianna insisted that Allanna was unstable, and that her getting to Tad would be no better than the Order. Tion wasn’t sure he fully agreed with that, but Princess Allanna was known even in the other Courts for being highly narcissistic. That was saying something in a race of narcissists.

  A small voice next to him spoke. “Great Master, may this one be of service?”

  Tion had felt the creature’s approach, but it was insignificant and presented no threat. Honestly, he was surprised that it even had the temerity to speak to him, yet he stayed his hand from obliterating the creature as a way of releasing some of his tension. “What is it, little demon?”

  The minuscule creature reeked of brimstone, even here in the Void. Its pudgy body gave way to pointy horns and a mouth of sharp teeth, and a spaded tail stuck out of a rather bulbous butt. “If Great Master wishes to pass the barrier, you simply need to be summoned. That will provide enough assistance to bypass the dimensional barrier.”

  Tion was angry again, although he knew it was because of how helpless he felt. Fey weren’t summoned. That was a game demons played with mortals. They might be distant cousins long removed from when both races were primordials, but they had very little in common today. Demons were chaos for the sake of destruction and suffering. Fey were chaos for the sake of growth and change, although admittedly there hadn’t been much of that under the current administrations.

  “Okay, humor me. How would I go about getting summoned?”

  Freydis sat with her hands folded on the small table, fingers still, posture perfect, and let the silence do the work it always did. The chamber was not large by the standards of gods, but it had been chosen for its symbolism rather than its scale. Winter did not need vaulted ceilings or blazing braziers to feel powerful. Winter only needed time, and time was her birthright.

  Across from her, Simari’s gaze was fixed somewhere just past Freydis’ shoulder, as if staring at a concept instead of a person. The Void Queen looked as she always did, composed, beautiful, and distant, yet there was a tightness at the corners of her eyes that Freydis hadn’t seen in millennia. On Freydis’ left, Ajasanna refused to sit still, tapping her nails lightly against the tabletop and shifting her weight with the restless energy of a midsummer’s morning. But the Summer Queen’s smile was sharp, her warmth edged, and the air around her carried that faint promise of a wildfire waiting for the right spark.

  Ajasanna broke first, as she always did. “We shouldn’t be meeting at all,” she snapped. “Not here. Not like mortals whispering in halls. We should be on Aerth. We should be dealing with this ourselves.”

  Simari’s voice was soft, but it cut cleanly. “Yet for all your bluster, we can’t go there. We’ve been barred. You know that. Why yearn for the fruit you can’t reach?”

  Ajasanna’s hand slammed down and a ripple of heat rolled outward before she reined it in. “We have administrative privileges,” she hissed. “We are the system. We represent its authority.”

  Freydis tilted her head and let the words settle. “And yet for all that I agree with your words, Aerth remains barred,” she said. “It is not only sealed to us, but to all divine-tier travel. Even ascendants are blocked out now, except those who have already made it through.” There was a quiet accusation in her words, but she didn’t press the point.

  Saying it aloud made the truth feel worse. Freydis had tested the boundary herself, pressing her will toward Aerth with the careful finesse of a ruler who knew the consequences of forcing locks. The system had pushed her back without anger, without negotiation, without even explanation. It had felt like a door that refused to recognize her hand.

  Simari finally looked directly at Freydis. “The system would only be blocking us if it is seeking to maintain some type of balance. You know that we’ve never fully understood how the Lawgiver rose to power. The system has shown itself capable of operating outside of our wishes. Perhaps it has found something else worth protecting.”

  Ajasanna leaned forward. “We don’t answer to the system,” she said, though her tone lacked conviction.

  Freydis held her gaze, calm as snowfall. “Don’t we, though?” she replied. “We always have, even when we pretended otherwise. It has always been that way, since our ancestors forged the original compact and built a home around the Remnant. The system is the structure that holds our Courts in place. If it decides Aerth must remain sealed, then our will is irrelevant, unless we are willing to break the foundation on which we have built the Courts themselves.”

  That silenced Ajasanna for a moment, which was no small accomplishment. Freydis let the quiet stretch, tasting it, measuring what it did to the others. Winter knew the value of pauses. They revealed impatience. They revealed guilt.