Iardu lay nearby in the arms of a weeping girl. Lyrilan stood before them, his crown of emeralds slickened by rain. Thunder and lightning tore the sky where ruined Uurz no longer stood. Only now did Sungui realize that the conquered city had disappeared. Dreadnoughts were falling from the sky like dead birds. A dark mountain in the shape of a Man stood with its back to the coven’s feast. A steely whirlwind soared across the sky beyond the titan.
“I have delivered my side of the bargain,” said the Emperor of Uurz. “Will you honor yours? Or stay and be salted like your God-King? Make your choice now: Retreat or Annihilation.”
Before Sungui could find her own voice, Ianthe spoke for her. “We may do what we please, Scholar King. These seven hundred no longer serve a God-King; they rule the Living Empire now. If we decide to remain and devour Uurz as we have devoured Zyung, then that is what we will do.”
Lyrilan’s dark eyes flashed. “Then I will send you all to salt.”
“No!” Sungui shouted. She raised a trembling hand to stay the sorcerer who was also Scholar and Emperor. “We will honor the words of the scroll, as you have honored them. Ianthe does not speak for us, only for herself. We will take our surviving ships and go now.”
Ianthe turned upon her. “You are weak, Sungui. The essence of Zyung should have made you strong. You need not fawn before this overproud boy.”
“Leave us in peace,” said Lyrilan. “I care not what you do with Zyung’s lands, but this land belongs to us. You must never return here.”
“Ianthe,” said Sungui, “we, too, have an agreement. If you wish to conquer the Land of the Five Cities you must do it without the Seraphim. We will return to our side of the world.”
Ianthe laughed. “Your honor is above reproach, Sungui the Venomous. They should rename you Sungui the Honorable. I would return with you now to witness the death of Zyung’s dream, and to revel in the red chaos of its dissolution.”
Sungui was ambivalent. She would enjoy more of Ianthe’s burning passion, yet she would have to endure the icy presence of Gammir. There was no separating the two. Still, the Panther and Wolf were inconsequential in the light of Sungui’s newfound state of being.
It does not matter. We have changed, even if these two have not.
“Your decision is most wise,” Lyrilan said to the Panther. “For if you remain here, it will be as salt in the bellies of Vireon and the Feathered Serpent. Go with these Eaters of Zyung, or hear me speak your true name as you die.”
Suddenly Ianthe was the White Panther again. She roared and snapped at Lyrilan but did not move against him. The dark-haired girl arose to stand at the Emperor’s side. The corpse of Iardu had dissolved into blue smoke behind her.
“Go!” the girl shouted at the Panther and the Black Wolf. Hate swam in her green eyes. “Go and never return!” A blade of starlight appeared in her fist. She struggled to resist using the weapon. How she must loathe Ianthe and Gammir. Sungui felt it pouring off her like a raw heat. Lyrilan put his arm around her shoulders. The Scholar King spoke an ancient word, and he was gone from the plain along with the girl.
Sungui turned to the salty-mouthed figures of the New Seraphim. She raised her white palms to them in a sign of victory. Their eyes met her own. Fresh understanding gleamed there. They had shared her dream of change, seen the eye of the storm inside. Even cruel Durangshara was altered. Only the Panther and Wolf remained the same.
“Let us return!” Sungui rose into the sky and the seven hundred followed her. Panther and Wolf sprouted black wings and joined them. Sungui had promised to leave the Land of the Five Cities to Ianthe, and to give the Living Empire over to her brethren.
She had promised Lyrilan an end to this invasion if his power could send Zyung to salt.
Now she promised herself something new.
We will never be the same.
Alua hovered among the darting figures of the Lesser Seraphim, cracking their spheres with blasts of her white flame. They fell dying to join the piles of wrecked dreadnoughts and bodies below. Vireon snatched them from the air in handfuls, crushing them in his great fists, tiny globes of glass popping into red shards. He waded across the heaps of devastation, his feet smashing dreadnoughts and Manslayers to pulp.
Khama glided between the low-hovering dreadnoughts like an eel, belching lightning and splitting hulls. Vaazhia laughed upon his back, casting spears of flame at the vessels. Khama was pleased to see that they burned far more easily without the protection of their silver-robes.
The Legions of Uurz and Zyung met in a wave of hammering blades and shields. The Giants ripped diving Trills from the sky or hurled spears to impale them. Now Lyrilan and Sharadza appeared above the battlefield, standing on a platform of solid air. Sharadza swelled to the size of an Uduri and leaped to join Dahrima in tearing through the deep ranks of Manslayers. Khama had not guessed Iardu’s apprentice capable of such savage fury. Yet Sharadza had Giantsblood in her veins. To see her wading through a sea of bloodied foes was to understand that she was truly the Daughter of Vod.