The interior of the Mistborne tower was, predictably, not one that radiated luxury. Blue torch sconces cast the only flickering light across its winding hallways that only allowed one the luxury of crouching. Ethan had to reduce his size with a quick [Reduce] cast just in order to follow his Tialax guide.

  Each hallway opened up every now and then into small, individual chambers where the aged members of the Sisterhood sat in quiet contemplation – their rooms nothing but four corners of damp stone and a small mat where the Oneriomancers dreamed.

  As they passed these rooms, they were not greeted. An eerie silence hung over the entire tower like a veil cast over darkness.

  Ethan and his party followed the hooded Tialax further into the tower, climbing stairwells that looked as though they would crumble beneath their weight. As they journeyed, there was little talk that passed between the party. In their own way, each one of them was somberly aware that at the end of this path would be the end of their long journey.

  “This place,” Klax finally said. “How has it stood for so long?”

  “The forebearers crafted it when they ruled this land,” the Tialax told them, pointing to the dragon etchings that lined the walls. The creatures were depicted in dreaming poses, their dreams being drawn as physical things – winding puffs of smoke, rolling waterfalls, screaming heads set above their faces. Around these images the Oneiromancers of the Umbral Order plied their trade just as Lamphrey said they had in the days of Argwyll’s birth: calming the storm of their masters’ minds.

  “They built it with magic known only to them,” the Tialax continued. “And their magic has kept it hidden for all these centuries. When we saw their eventual departure from this realm, they left the keys to unlocking this place to us. And when Jun’Ei came among us, and told us that the fifth Archon would be the last, we knew then why we had been given the choice to open this place once more to the outside.”

  “A screening spell,” Fauna murmured. “One created by a dragon…if only Sanctum had something like that.”

  “If Sanctum had something like that,” Ethan said quietly. “Then we would never have come here. None of this would have happened the way it was supposed to. Isn’t that right?”

  The hooded Tialax did not reply. But Ethan thought he saw her head give a little twitch of agreement.

  After a time, the corridors they traversed opened into a much wider chamber. There were no windows in the stronghold, but Ethan surmised that they must be in the midsection of the tower by now.

  In the wide oval chamber, a hearth afforded heat. Before it sat five other Tialax, each one of them staring into the crimson flames as though transfixed by their warmth.

  They turned their heads as Ethan entered, unfurling his angel wings for the first time and stretching them out with no small satisfaction.

  The eyes of the Tialax did not look at his angel form’s. Instead, they looked into the crimson eyeball of the Demon Hat, nodded once, and then bowed their heads once more.

  “Why…why don’t they speak?” Tara asked, having a liberal stretch by the fire and waving a hand in front of one of the females. “They’re even worse conversationalists than old Lamphrey was.”

  Their Tialax guide gave her reply to Ethan, and only Ethan: “Their minds walk within the realm of dreams – always. Within that world, our lips are vestigial. There is no need for communication with words. They return to the Waking world only to see the Archon for themselves – and to know that it is truly him.”

  “They decide to live in the Lucid World from birth,” Ethan said, nodding to each of the waking dreamers in turn. “I’ve seen this in Lamphrey’s memories. All things considered, it is the highest honor an Oneiromancer can experience. Total immersion in the Lucid state. It also makes them immensely powerful.”

  The Tialax guide nodded once.

  “The only caveat being they cannot bring that power to bear in the real world?” Klax asked.

  “To them, there is no Waking World,” Ethan replied, placing a hand on each of the dreamers to validate that he was here – that their commitment to the dream state had not been in vain. “Their powers are amplified as a result. I’m guessing that’s also how you’ve kept aware of Argwyll’s status over the centuries?”

  The Tialax guide smiled.

  “The Prophet Jun’Ei said that you would know our ways as though you were born a Tialax.”

  “Well, one of your Sisters resides within my being now, after all.”

  The Tialax guide shuffled off to the side of the room, indicating four different passageways at its edges.

  “We have rooms prepared for you and your companions. Your journey has been long, and arduous. If you require rest, now is the time.”

  Tara smirked at the figure.

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  “Do you already know if we’re going to take you up on that offer or not?”

  Once again, the Tialax only gave a little twitch of her ancient head.

  “Some questions must be asked. Some answers must be given.”

  “It’s quite something, alright,” Tara sighed to herself. “A whole tower full of Lamphreys…”

  “Well, let me give you our answer,” Ethan said, rising and cracking his neck like he’d been preparing for this moment for years of his life. Because, in a way, he had been.

  “The time for rest can come after,” he said. “Right now, I need to see it.”

  “No more meandering around Argwyll?” Tara asked. “We’re gonna finish this, just like that?”

  “He’s ready,” Fauna said. “He’s been ready for a while.”

  “And we stand with him,” Klax added with a smile.

  The Tialax fixed him with her stony stare for a time. Then, for the first time since they’d entered, she swept her gaze over the rest of the team, like she was taking in the measure of them all. Then she nodded, once. Slower than before.

  “Follow me,” she said.

  As the party made to do so, Ethan kept step with the small, crooked creature, his gaze taking in her ancient form and shambling gait.

  “What is your name?” he asked her.

  She did not turn as she replied, “It is not one written in time. It is a name that was made to be forgotten.”

  “I would honor you,” he said. “You and your sisterhood have kept your vigil in this place since the beginning of this world’s time itself. When I’m done with Kaedmon, the world should know all your names.”

  As he said this, it seemed that the ancient Oneiromancer’s shoulders sagged just a little bit more.

  “After today, the past shall no longer matter,” she whispered. “Only that which is to come shall have any meaning at all. You mean to rewrite the rules of this reality, Ethan Hawke. Know that even we of the Sisterhood do not know if you shall succeed. For we have seen the same vision that plagues you. And some of us believe that by receiving you, we usher in a gale of darkness that shall shroud our world till the end times.”

  “And yet here you are,” Ethan replied quietly – matching her tone. “Ushering me towards the world’s end.”

  Once again, the Tialax sighed.

  “Judgement is not ours to pass,” she said. “We leave that to the movers of the earth. The builders of nations. The warriors who become Gods and Kings. It is not up to us to determine right or wrong. All we ensure is flow. Time must flow forward. All else is dust in the wind.”

  “If more people thought as you do,” he said. “I think there wouldn’t be a single war made on this earth.”

  For the first time, the whispering Tialax smiled.

  “If more thought as we do,” she said. “There would be no earth at all.”

  She took them up the longest staircase in the tower, passing by a grand library that held more ancient books than anything any of them had ever seen. It took some effort to grip Fauna and prod her onwards – so ferocious was she to pursue the knowledge of spellcraft that must have lingered in those crumbling tomes.

  As they neared the peak, the individual rooms for Oneiromancers were no longer seen. A chill ran through the air up here – as if a presence from the heavens had breathed a cold chill upon the stone.

  And when they finally came to the room at the very peak itself, they knew that wasn’t far from the truth.

  “He feels us,” the guide said as she unlocked the heavy stone door that stood at the top of the winding stairwell. “He watches. He is – preparing Himself.”

  “So am I,” Ethan said. “Well, let’s see him.”

  The entire party gripped their weapons as the sheer cold of the room ate at their bones and chilled their fingers. As their guide undid the final magical lock and pushed the door open, a wind – like a constrained hurricane – whipped at all their faces. A dull echo emanated from the room beyond – like a scream that announced terror. Or excitement.

  But Ethan didn’t hesitate. He stepped through the threshold and walked calmly into the room beyond.

  It wasn’t anything special. In fact, to the untrained eye, it was just another oval chamber set with draconic inscriptions and runic letters. In the center stood a jagged boulder of thick, black hue – a black deeper than any naturally occurring mineral found on Argwyll.

  Just like he’d seen in the dream of Jun’Ei – way back in the depths of Haylock’s prison.

  “This…this is it?” Fauna whispered.

  Ethan stepped forward and stood before the totally unassuming piece of rock.

  “This is it.”

  He was looking at the rock with eyes that showed him more than anyone else in the room saw. Touched by the spirit of an angel of Kaedmon, he saw the lines of power careening round the stony surface of the alien thing. Streams of pure light that leaped out from the rock and cascaded round the room with vibrant, exuberant jumps like practiced dancers in a masquerade.

  He stepped forward and palmed the stone, feeling the power connect to his own. And in a fraction of an instant he felt the presence of a God rush through him. He felt the memories of all of Argwyll, all the Skills that had ever been crafted and distributed among its inhabitants, every birth, every death, and everything that ever was all at once.

  Then he recoiled sharply, as though burned.

  “Not yet,” he whispered. “Not yet…”

  “Ethan?”

  He turned to see Fauna and the others staring up at him, their faces creased with worry.

  To them, he’d just been contemplating nothing but a blank rock. But he – all of them – were in the presence of was the very thing that Kaedmon had been spawned from: Kaedmon’s Cradle.

  Ethan turned to the Tialax guide, who had retreated – almost in fear – to the back of the chamber.

  “Give me some time,” he said. “They deserve to know.”

  The curious blind eyes stared back at him.

  “Do not tarry overlong. Destiny rarely waits. He knows you are here, now. He may try to defend himself.”

  “He’s waited this long. He can wait a little longer.”

  With a nod, the Tialax shuffled out the room, paying no attention to the looks of curiosity passing between Tara, Klax, and Fauna.

  “…so is anyone gonna ask him what the hell he’s talking about or..?”

  Fauna gingerly stepped forward.

  “Know what?”

  She saw Ethan’s lips curl in response. Even though he had a God to face, and couldn’t be sure how the battle would go – somehow this moment was even harder.

  You don’t have to tell them, Sys reminded him. I know you’re going to, but it’s worth saying – you don’t have to. We could end this right now, just me and you.

  I know, Sys. But it wouldn’t be fair.

  He knelt before his three companions and did not sigh. Nor did he hesitate. Now, more than ever, he needed to show conviction.

  “You’ve been with me from the start,” he said. “And without you, I would have never made it here. You’ve done what you all set out to do and more. To ask anything else would be too much. And yet – I’m going to have to ask you all to do one last thing for me: and that’s accept what I’m going to tell you.”

  Their blinking eyes asked the question on their minds. He wanted to savor this image: the three of them as he remembered them. As he’d always remember them.

  “I need to tell you all what I’m going to do once I make Kaedmon’s power mine.”