Seven Sorcerers(109)

The Almighty was indeed coming to meet the Giant-King face to face one last time.

Be patient, came the voice of Ianthe in Sungui’s head. She knew that voice was heard by all the coven. Wait for my signal. Until then, serve your God-King.

Joining her brethren in the sky above the doomed city, Sungui waited.

One by one, tiny stars erupt in the purple sky above the gate. Surrounding our group of seven as the dreadnoughts surround the city, a thousand silver-robes appear inside globes of condensed light. They are the size of Men, so to us they are but a swarm of fireflies. Yet only when the last of them appears does Zyung manifest himself before us, accepting Vireon’s challenge.

The unspoken rules of Zyung’s response are clear: We are not to interfere in this final duel, or his High Seraphim will pelt us with their brilliant destruction.

Giant-King and God-King face one another yet again.

Today Vireon defends a living city, not a haunted ruin.

The Giant-King strides toward Zyung, whose flaming blade ignites from the center of his fist. The Conqueror says not a word. He will let his power speak for him.

Vireon’s blade arcs forward, a bolt of lightning against a pillar of flame. There is thunder, and black clouds swirl above the swarm of dreadnoughts. Wind blasts the battlements of Uurz. The gigantic blades howl and collide again.

The Flame of Intellect leaps upon my chest. I sense the presence of Ianthe and Gammir among the legion of Old Breed who watch this contest of titans. They, too, await the perfect moment to strike. Yet all eyes are focused on the two colossal combatants.

The dust along the gate road leaps as the great blades connect. Vireon steps away from the burning blade and parries a downstroke. Zyung moves very little, yet his arm is a leaping cobra with a tongue of flashing fire. Vireon’s steel begins to smoke from the touch of the burning blade.

Giant-King circles about God-King, and Zyung swivels to keep his eyes on Vireon. His arm knows no weakness or fatigue. He deflects Vireon’s every blow and thrust. His flameblade singes Vireon’s eyes, leaving a cut across the Giant-King’s cheek that steams and sizzles. Vireon feints to avoid the next blow and locks his left hand about Zyung’s right wrist. The flaming blade vanishes, only to reappear in Zyung’s left fist. It turns Vireon’s blade away and slips upward to catch the Giant-King in his left side, running him through. Zyung withdraws it instantly. Steaming blood spills from the hole above Vireon’s hip, spilling down his bronze legs. A more central thrust would have ended the duel at once.

Vireon staggers but does not fall. His blade rises to protect his neck from the flaming sword’s arc. The two blades are locked now, emitting sparks and black smoke. The eyes of Vireon and Zyung are also locked. A third deadlock: Their free hands have come together, fingers entwined in a crushing grip.

“Vireon!” calls Sharadza. “Vireon!”

It is too late. Stellar flames from Zyung’s eyes blast Vireon in the face. The Giant-King howls, losing his grip as his iron-dense flesh melts away from the skull beneath it. Zyung spins his flame-blade and takes off Vireon’s right arm at the shoulder. Then the burning weapon arcs upward and sideways, cleaving off the Giant-King’s head.

The great crown of iron and sapphire falls free of the head as it tumbles. Vireon’s smoking skull never meets the earth. Zyung catches it in his free hand. Vireon’s blade falls to join his crown. Yet before either of them hits the ground, the Conqueror’s voice rings out. The towers behind us tremble.

Vireon’s head is a mound of white salt in Zyung’s palm.

The flaming blade extinguishes itself. Zyung’s hand touches the chest of Vireon’s headless body, which has not yet fallen. It becomes an icon of white solidity now, a great effigy of salt that holds its shape as if wrought of pale marble. Zyung casts his fistful of salt–Vireon’s pulped head–across the salted body. The scattered grains adhere to the body’s surface like thistles in a hunter’s cloak. Yet the head does not reform. Nor will it ever. The Conqueror will either consume the salt himself when the siege is done, or give it to his Seraphim to imbibe.

Sharadza cannot find a voice to cry out. Alua stares at her salted husband, tears of white flame drizzling from her eyes. Her mouth is open, but like Sharadza her scream has not yet begun.

All at once it begins. Here is the signal the armada has been awaiting: the Giant-King’s death. Orange flames pour from the sky-ships, washing across the ramparts of Uurz into the streets and gardens beyond. The wails of burning Men and Giants rise on currents of stifling air.

The Feathered Serpent leaps at Zyung with Vaazhia at his side.

Sharadza and Alua advance screaming with spear and flame.