Seven Sorcerers(4)

“Now is not the time,” she said.

Durangshara chuckled, his loose jowls quivering. “Shall we wait until His Holiness hears of this and annihilates us one by one?”

Mahaavar laid his hand upon Sungui’s shoulder. His touch was firm yet gentle, as his lovemaking had been earlier. “A spy among us?” Mahaavar asked. “Let me kill him, Sungui. To prove my loyalty.”

Sungui ignored the tightening of her stomach, the quickening of her pulse. She did not want this. Not tonight. She had hoped this ceremony would turn the Ear to her own purposes. Yet she knew the danger of such a gamble. The Almighty saw all there was to see in his realm, and the only way to avoid his gaze was to hide in the lowest of places, nooks and crannies that were beneath his attention. Hence the Slave Bath, where her listeners stood at odds in the fading steam.

Her eyes narrowed as she leaned toward Lavanyia. An unspoken challenge beamed in the eyes of the lioness. Lavanyia would take control of this revolution before it ever grew to fruition, if only she could recall the truth as well as Sungui. Yet Lavanyia could not. How she must envy Sungui’s retention of identity while all those around her continued to Diminish. Perhaps Lavanyia even suspected that it was Sungui’s double aspect which made her less susceptible to the Almighty’s dominance. The lioness could not control the listeners, so she sought instead to control the speaker.

The moment of challenge seemed endless. Sungui might have turned away, but she did not. Her upper lip curled. A ripple ran across her body beneath the bright vestment. A familiar passion rose from her groin into her stomach, nearly burst from her throat. Her jaw-line shifted, her nose grew hawkish, her shoulders expanded, and the muscles of her arms, legs, and chest swelled. Manhood rose like a granite obelisk, rushing through flesh like angry blood, and she grew somewhat taller. At the same time she drew from the left sleeve of her robe a dagger of black metal, hilt crusted with rubies, blade etched with dread sigils.

Lavanyia did not flinch at the appearance of the weapon.

Sungui’s female aspect was entirely gone. He stood utterly male and defiant amid the circle now. The iron blade glinted like the torch flames dancing in Lavanyia’s eyes.

Mahaavar’s hand dropped from Sungui’s shoulder; he backed away from his transformed lover. Always discomfited by this shift. So locked into the role written for him by the Almighty that he did not even recognize the single nature of one who wore a double aspect. Mahaavar would not kiss, touch, or whisper any gentle words to the male Sungui, though perhaps secretly he fancied the blasphemous idea.

Lavanyia did not blink at all. There was no element of fear on her splendid face. The maleness that had emerged so swiftly drew Sungui toward the lioness with invisible chains. Suddenly Sungui desired her, wished to conquer her stubborn femininity in the way that men have always conquered women.

“Sungui,” insisted Mahaavar. “Let me kill whoever—”

Mahaavar lost his words as the dagger’s blade plunged into his chest. It sank deep, and the hilt slammed against his skin with a meaty slap. He staggered backward two steps, but did not crumble. His eyes fell to the ruby pommel protruding from his breast like a piece of bizarre jewelry.

Sungui stepped forward, placing himself between the listeners and the Ear.

“I had hoped to reach you.” Sungui’s male voice was deeper, heavy with the weight of regret, laced with the poison of pity. In his female aspect he would weep over Mahaavar. Yet now not a single tear escaped his eye. His male aspect was used to tragedy, remorse, and the spilling of blood. It thrived on such sustenance.

Mahaavar’s lips moved but he made no sound. Neither did he fall to the wet stone floor of the bath chamber. He stood bleeding and mouthing soundless pleas. Sungui avoided his eyes, looking instead at the faces of Those Who Listen. Lavanyia did not smile with her lips, but with her eyes. She gloated over Sungui’s remorse. She had driven Sungui to this moment, given him no choice in how to handle Mahaavar’s treachery. As soon as word of their gathering reached Zyung from the lips of Mahaavar, they would all be caught in the trap of the Almighty’s awareness. Hiding their fellowship from His Holiness then would no longer be possible.

I probably could not have turned Mahaavar anyway.

The thought ran through Sungui’s mind as if dropped there, a cold stone rippling the waters of a still pond. His male aspect was forever justifying the cruelty of its actions. This is how Men lived. He leaned close to Mahaavar, who stuttered and trembled. Mahaavar could not fall, nor could he move in any other way.

“I have aligned the metal of this blade with the Ninety Aspects of Higher Being,” Sungui whispered. “Your position in this universe is now fixed, the last shred of freedom left to you by Zyung torn away… until the stars shift themselves into new patterns.”