Suddenly Zyung stood upon the foredeck, returned to his usual hulking stature. His eyes reflected the scarlet sunset, and his silver vestment was unspoiled. His deep calm remained intact, as if it were some other being that had grown to monolithic proportions and cast down the King of Giants. His face turned from the tangled battleground toward the Golden Sea, where the rest of his armada sat waiting for orders.
Sungui, Lavanyia, Ianthe, and Gammir bowed low in his presence, as did every man upon the decks of the Daystar. “We hail your great victory, Holiness,” said Lavanyia.
Zyung’s hands were folded at his back. “Send the Lesser Seraphim to cleanse the valley of flesh. Spare the bones of every fallen Man and Giant. I have use for them.”
“It shall be done,” said Lavanyia. She rose to implement his command, but he spoke again before she departed.
“A hundred thousand Manslayers will garrison the valley under your supervision, Lavanyia. Have them ashore by dawn. You may keep one hundred Lesser Seraphim with you as well. The rest of the legions are to remain aboard the dreadnoughts. In seven days we cross the Stormland plain and take the city of Uurz. Tomorrow we raise the new Holy Mountain.”
Lavanyia bowed once more and glided toward the foremost ranks of ships. She would gather the Lesser Seraphim to her by spell, but orders for the Manslayer captains must be delivered in person.
Zyung’s eyes lingered upon the darkening sea. Perhaps he saw all the way across it and past the Outer Sea as well, into the very heart of his distant empire.
“How may we serve you this night, Great Zyung?” asked Ianthe. By we she meant only Gammir and herself.
The Almighty gazed at her and ran his massive fingers across her white mane. Sungui was reminded of a man stroking a lion cub.
“I will have need of you,” he said, “at Uurz.”
Ianthe nodded in a perfect simulation of fealty. She and Gammir departed silently.
“Sungui,” said the Almighty.
“Yes, Holiness?”
“Do you recall my conversation with your other self?”
“I recall every word, Almighty.”
“Then look upon the death lying in the valley there,” said Zyung. “Open your nostrils and breathe deep the stench of it. Taste it on the wind. This is our true enemy. If the stubborn Kings of these Men and Giants had surrendered to order and embraced the peace of submission, none of them would have died today. The Jade King’s isle would still sit above the waves if he had chosen the path of non-resistance.”
Zyung paused to let the import of his words sink deep.
“Do you understand, Sungui?”
“I do, Holiness. I understand your wisdom and your power. Your mercy and your grace.”
“Yet still the seed of doubt grows in your heart.”
Sungui shrugged. “Perhaps to doubt is simply my true nature.”
Zyung smiled then, something he did rarely. His smoldering eyes turned to Sungui.
“Perhaps it is,” said the Almighty.
A Lesser Seraphim rushed across the deck with an urgent expression. He sank to both knees before Zyung and waited for permission to speak. Zyung waved a finger.
“Holiness! The Feathered Serpent! He was confined as ordered in the hold of the Heaven’s Blade, awaiting your attention. Yet… somehow… he is gone.”
Sungui’s anger rose at the incompetence of the Lesser Ones.
“Were there no guards with him?” He spoke for the Almighty.
The man turned his eyes to Sungui, a different sort of fear swimming there. “Two of the Lesser Ones,” he said. “Both have been sent to salt.”
Sungui started. How could such a thing happen in the midst of the armada? Perhaps the battle had claimed the attention of those who should have been focused on shipboard duties.
“Devoured?” Sungui asked.
“No,” said the Lesser Seraphim. “Their salt remains.”
Lesser Seraphim were never sent to salt. They were only Men and thus could be killed, unlike the High Seraphim, who were of the Old Breed and could not. Sending a High One to salt, as Sungui had done to Mahaavar, was only a precursor to consuming his essence. To do this with two Lesser Ones, without even troubling to consume them, made no sense at all. It would have been easier to kill the guards in any of a hundred other ways.
Unless someone with great power meant to mock the High Seraphim.
“You may go,” said Zyung. The Lesser One departed in relief.
“Salted but not devoured,” Sungui said. “Who would do such a thing?”
“The same one who sent me to iron,” said Zyung.
Sungui examined the inscrutable face of the Almighty.
“Who…?”
If Zyung knew the answer, he did not share it.