Seven Sorcerers(89)

“Iardu…”

A voice calls my name, confirming my identity. Below us the physical shards of our broken prison explode against the cavern floor. The orange flames of deep-earth fires leap from chasms in the darkness. The titan of condensed magma reclines still on his throne. His size dwarfs our floating spirits. Udgrond’s flesh has darkened, yet it has not completely cooled. Red veins of molten silver gleam across his chest and limbs. His eyes are closed and dark.

How long have we slept?

“Iardu! Awaken, you fool!”

A specter of red-black flame hovers before me. At first I do not recognize it. I turn instead to the three spirits who were entrapped with me. Sharadza blinks at me like a drowsy ghost. Alua’s spirit-self is a figure sculpted of white flame. Vaazhia’s forked tongue darts in and out of her mouth as she raises ethereal claws. She already knows who has freed us. I sense the mingled fury and fear that radiates from the lizardess.

Now I see clearly the pale face at the heart of the ebony and ruby flames. White as bone, and cruel in its loveliness. Eyes that resemble black diamonds in the physical world seem more like empty voids in this ghostly state.

“Ianthe.” I speak her name with suspicion. She is my enemy.

“Who else could have freed you from this fool’s fate?” Ianthe asks. Her void-eyes examine my three spirit companions. I recall our physical selves locked inside my sanctum in the world far above. Through the formless current that connects me to my living body, I sense that it still lives. Therefore, it is likely that my companions’ bodies are unharmed as well.

Now Sharadza recognizes the presence of the Claw. “You?” There is horror in her soundless voice. “Blood-drinking monster! Slayer of innocents! You will never reclaim me.”

Ianthe laughs. “Nor would I wish to, Daughter of Vod. You are less than nothing to me. I come for the Shaper.”

Vaazhia hisses.

Alua forms a globe of white spirit-flame and holds it in her fist like a dagger. The wife of Vireon knows she cannot harm Ianthe in this form, or there would be no stopping her from the attempt. There must be a final confrontation between these two, and it will be terrible. Yet it cannot be here in this forsaken place below the world.

“You freed us from the dream of Udgrond.” I say it to remind Alua of this fact, and because I hardly believe it myself. I do not trust this deliverance, yet I must accept it.

“If I had not done so, you would have lingered here for a thousand years,” Ianthe says. “You always were a Prince of Fools, but this is your saddest folly.”

Ianthe’s words should not sting me, but they do. She is right. I should never have come here seeking to wake Udgrond from his long dream. It was a grievous error born of desperation. This one mistake could have meant the end of everything that I worked long ages to build.

“You have my gratitude,” I tell her, “if not my love.”

“I had that long ago,” she says. “You forgot the pleasures we shared when you forgot your true self.”

“Say rather when I discovered my true self, Claw.”

Her smile is beautiful and wicked.

“I do not understand,” Sharadza says, hovering near to me. “This creature is the enemy of us all. Why has she aided us?”

Alua’s flaming spirit erupts. It rushes toward Ianthe’s ghost-self. “Twice you have murdered me,” Alua says. “I remember now.”

“No, Alua,” I warn her. “Today is not the day to pursue the vengeance rightly owed to you. We are weak in this place, and too far from our physical selves. Ianthe is our enemy, yes, but she has saved us.”

“Why?” Vaazhia spits like a cobra. If she were inside her body, it would be venom rather than mere words. “Why rescue your enemies, Bitch of Khyrei? We will not serve you. Rather put us back in the titan’s prison than ask it.”

Ianthe’s empty eyes focus on Vaazhia’s coiled spirit-self. “We have no time for this, Lizard-Queen,” says the Claw. “You are not in my debt, nor would I ever accept your service. I can see that you serve only Iardu. Has he bedded you to earn your allegiance?”

Vaazhia writhes and hisses. I calm her as best I can. A caress of my astral hand pulls her back. I move between the souls of the three women and that of the Claw.

“Enough!” I say. “How long have we slept?”

“I know not when you first stumbled into this trap like a brace of stupid hares,” says Ianthe. “My far sight found you down here four days after the taking of the Sharrian valley. A mighty slaughter it was. Your Giant-King fell to the blade of Zyung, and your northern legions were decimated. Three days from now the God-King moves his Holy Armada to take Uurz.”