The monk’s face relaxed, and he sighed deeply. I placed the Depthless Dream back into my harness and crouched by his side. Ultin’s chest heaved as he hacked up more of the corrupted fluid, and I cushioned his head against the stone floor.
“Tell me about Tymo,” I said quietly. “What’s his part in all of this?”
“He and Jiven have a shared past,” Ultin whispered. “A bond. The threads of their fate are twisted inexorably together. A blood oath was struck between them, and Jiven called upon Tymo to fulfill it. I see that you hate him for that, Swordslinger, but—”
Ultin shuddered, gasped for breath, and fresh blood flowed from his nostrils. His face trembled under its mask of blood, but he found a fresh reserve of strength and forged on.
“—but Tymo couldn’t have turned from this request. He convinced the Hierophant to re-emerge on this plane. He sent us out to deliver the Orb, but we couldn’t have foreseen what it did to us. There was a brother who stayed in the forest—”
“He’s dead,” I said.
Ultin breathed a sigh of relief. “Then the worst of the threat to Flametongue Valley has passed. With the Broodmother gone, demons cannot enter freely onto this plane.”
“Tymo held us back from the valley,” Vesma said slowly. “He distracted us so that Jiven could escape with this Orb and flee.”
“Fucking bastard,” Mahrai said. “I knew he wanted to keep us in the dark.”
“Does the Hierophant know?” I asked Ultin.
He shook his head. “Our leader is blameless, Swordslinger. His only intention was to follow the guidance of the spirits and train the next Swordslinger on his Path. Tymo used this to his advantage, to shield your eyes from the truth.”
The monk’s breathing shallowed. His face took on a serene expression, and a soft smile crossed his face as he stared up at me. His fingers curled around one of my bracers, and he tugged me closer. I leaned down, and his warm breath washed over my ear as Ultin spoke his final words.
“Tymo is the key,” Ultin whispered. “He has the answers you seek. Please, forgive me.”
The monk’s hand slipped from my bracer, and his body stilled. His eyes stared sightlessly up at the ceiling, and a serene smile transfixed his face in death.
Silence reigned throughout the dungeon for a long minute, and a raging tide of fury suddenly rushed into my blood. Tymo had betrayed his core teachings and used his fellow monks as pawns in a game.
“He must face justice,” Nydarth snarled. “For all the blood he has spilled.”
“The situation may be more liquid than it appears,” Yono chided. “A blood debt is no small thing, Master. Tymo may have his own reasons. And you triumphed, despite Jiven’s best efforts to destroy the valley.”
“If he’s as nice as you say,” I said quietly, “then I’m sure he’ll be happy to explain himself.”
I scooped up Ultin’s corpse, charged my body with strength, and turned to leave.
Mahrai’s golem intercepted me with a shove and took up a position by the door. I spun to look at Mahrai, and she leveled her staff at me with hard eyes.
“You’re not going back, Ethan,” she growled.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Cinder stalked forward to Mahrai and glared at her. “You’re part of this?”
“Say another word, bitch, and I’ll punch you through the wall,” Mahrai growled. “Of course I’m not.” She returned her gaze to me. “You can’t take on Tymo alone, Ethan. He’s too damn powerful, and you know it.”
“We just destroyed a portal into the spirit realm, killed badass minotaurs, and ended the threat to the valley,” I said to her. “Tymo is the only loose end left before we hunt down Jiven Wysaro.”
“You’re running on fumes,” she argued. “He’ll kill you.”
I shook my head. “This has to end, Mahrai. And Tymo is the only one who knows where Jiven is headed. If we don’t find out where he’s going, all of this is just the beginning. He will spawn more of these things if we can’t find him and stop him once and for all.”
Mahrai’s face tightened, and she shook her head. “I’m not letting you leave without us.”
“I’m the only one who can get there in time,” I said. “It took us the better part of a day to get here together. And someone needs to get Cinder and the others to safety. The guild needs to know that Flametongue Valley is safe.”
“None of that matters if you’re dead!” Mahrai suddenly shouted.
Her voice echoed through the dungeon, and she flinched at her own voice. Her lower lip trembled slightly as she glared at me, and I walked forward until I stood three feet away from her. I raised Ultin’s body slightly in my arms to draw her attention to him.
“I made a promise, Mahrai,” I said softly. “I have to go.”
The golem shifted uneasily behind her.
“Mahrai,” Vesma said, “if anyone can do it, Ethan can. Horix couldn’t kill him. Saruqin couldn’t manage it, either. Hamon tried and look how that turned out for him.” She shook her head. “I don’t like it any more than you do, trust me. But you have to believe he can do it.”
“At least let me go with you. Or wait for Xilarion. Or something,” Mahrai said.
“Do you trust me?” I asked.
“You know I do.”
“Then trust me to do what needs to be done.”
“He trained you. He knows everything you do, and more besides.”
“So did Ultin, but that didn’t help the Broodmother in the end,” I said. “Mahrai, you have to help the others. Cinder and Hamon are the last leaders of the clan in the valley. They need to survive to keep peace in the region. I need you to get them back to Wysaro City.”
Her eyes drifted away. “And if I say no?”
“You won’t,” I said. “You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself.”
Mahrai met my eyes again, and she gritted her teeth. “Fine. Go get yourself killed.”
“That’s my girl,” I said.
“She still struggles with her inner demons, even now,” Yono
