Seven Sorcerers: Book Three of the Books of the Shaper

by John R. Fultz

  Gammir watched Sungui’s face for a reaction. He knew that something about her was not the same, but he did not understand the nature of her change. Perhaps he sensed this among all of the High Seraphim. Yet Iardu’s gift had not affected the Wolf or the Panther. Possibly they were beyond its reach, as blind cave-creatures are beyond the reach of the sun’s glory.

  “You already know my answer to that,” Sungui said. “I will honor my given word.”

  “Of course,” said Ianthe. “You are anxious to see your homeland again, where you and your cousins will divide Zyung’s empire. The Land of the Five Cities is of little consequence with so many other kingdoms awaiting your rule. I understand this. In fact Gammir and I will help you to smash the Living Empire and reforge it in your own image. Then we will return here to reclaim our own lands. After all, we are immortal, and time is of little consequence to us. Let the people of the Five Cities believe us vanquished for a while; we will catch the next generation of Men unawares and take back what is rightfully ours.”

  Sungui sighed as she watched the ranks of Manslayers file onto the broad decks of ships. At the center of the great circle of dreadnoughts lay the wreckage of half the armada and the bodies of uncounted dead, all withering inside a mountain of white flame. A warm wind blew across the inferno to warm her face, yet there was no smoke rising from this sorcerous pyre. Alua’s mystical flame would burn all night, and in the morning there would be no trace of the invaders left upon the spoiled plain. Only a great, leagues-wide circle of charred earth that would grow fertile and green again within a season or two.

  She imagined the healthy green stalks of the steppe once more taking root in the black, rich soil. It made her long for the purple plains outside the Holy City. Zyung was dead, consumed into oblivion, but the great land that bore his name lived on.

  It must live on. It must not burn like these shattered vessels and their crews.

  In a moment of outward metamorphosis that strangely mirrored her inner transformation, Sungui shifted toward her male aspect. The silver robe rippled about expanding arms and shoulders. When it was done, he turned to address Ianthe directly.

  “I do not think that I–that we–shall break apart the Living Empire after all,” Sungui said. The minds of the High Seraphim were like the lights of the distant city, gleaming about him with a newfound sense of peace and purpose. He saw them as clearly as any message beacons.

  “What?” Ianthe placed a hand on her hip, cocking her splendid head at him.

  Gammir growled low in his throat, like a suspicious mongrel.

  Sungui crossed his hands behind his back and walked the fore-deck to the opposite railing. Panther and Wolf followed him, drawn along by his every word. They ignored his sudden transformation from female to male. It was his mental alteration that concerned them.

  They will never understand this illumination. They are incapable of it.

  “When we absorbed Zyung’s essence, we absorbed also his dream,” Sungui said. “His Great Idea. Call it his Wisdom, if that helps you to understand. We spent ages helping to build his great vision of order and peace. Tending the Tree of Empire, he called it. There are millions of people who benefit from the order we have created, perhaps billions. This was an idea born from long ages of chaos, suffering, and war. Zyung sought to end this plague that afflicted humanity.” He turned to meet the skeptical faces of his listeners. “For it was the same plague that afflicted us… the Old Breed.”

  Ianthe laughed. “The power of Zyung is intoxicating, and it has made you drunk. Gammir and I have relished its potency as well, yet we did not absorb this dream of which you speak. The absence of Zyung’s order–his tyranny to be more accurate–means freedom for those of your kind. Why should you care if this brings chaos to Men, these wretched creatures? Their place is below us, ants beneath the heels of Giants.”

  “You ate of Zyung’s salt as we did,” said Sungui, “yet you did not inherit his dream because you never understood it. You cannot. You are too deeply rooted in your own malady. Like Zyung himself, whose entire being was rooted in the empire that he built, you are incapable of change. We are not. And we have changed.”

  Ianthe offered only silence for a moment. Sungui watched the flickering of stars in the black sky. How had he never noticed their sparkling beauty until this moment? The minds of his fellow High Ones shared this thought, as they had come to share so many things since the devouring.

  Ianthe smiled and placed her arm about Sungui’s broad shoulders. “I see now, Venomous One. You would set yourself above all others as the God-King’s replacement. The Almighty Reborn, a whole new High Lord Celestial who will keep the Living Empire alive in your own name instead of Zyung’s. And do you expect the rest of your High Seraphim to follow you in this? To worship you as they worshipped Zyung?”

  “No,” said Sungui. “My fellow Seraphim and I are equals. I would not subjugate them, nor would they accept my subjugation. I am simply a catalyst, an agent of change. Zyung knew this, as he knew so many things. I wonder now if he—”

  “Enough!” said Ianthe. Her teeth were bared in a vicious grin, the incisors long and sharp as ivory barbs. “You wished for an end to Zyung’s reign, you worked toward this end with my aid, and now you abandon its rewards? Have I wasted my time in serving your cause? I might have taken Zyung’s power for myself!”

  Sungui tilted his head. “That you could not have done without the aid of the High Seraphim and your own enemies, Lyrilan and Iardu chief among them. Zyung’s power was beyond your own. If it had been otherwise, you would not have hidden your subversion from him.”

  Ianthe withdrew from Sungui. The Panther’s narrow eyes were bright with darkness. Gammir leaned against Ianthe from behind, grasping her arm as a child clings to his mother.

  “Then all this was for naught?” said Ianthe. “The Living Empire will remain as it was, except ruled by a Council of God-Kings instead of a single one?”

  “No,” said Sungui. “The Living Empire will remain, yes, but like we Seraphim it will change. Under Zyung it could not do this. Now it shall prosper with new virtues.”

  “New virtues?”

  “An Age of Illumination,” said Sungui, “built upon the pillars of compassion, free will, and independent thought, all tempered by the rule of order. The empire preserves the peace, yet it must also preserve the people. Even the lowest of them must be free to walk the path of their own choosing, to worship their own Gods, and sing their own songs. No more slaves. Zyung’s greatest mistake was his complete annihilation of freedom. Here in the Five Cities men are free to do as they will, yet their Kings and Emperors keep order and peace alive. The peoples of this land are content, full of joy, and blessed with personal liberty. Still they choose to honor their rulers and serve their kingdoms unto death. This is the true path to the Great Society that Zyung imagined but never perfected. The New Seraphim will not be self-appointed Gods. We shall be Kings and Sages and Healers.”

  The minds of the New Seraphim gleamed as bright as Alua’s white flames across the armada. Sungui knew they all had heard and agreed with his words. This was a shared enlightenment. A transfiguration, and a bond like none other. The path to a glorious future.

  “This foolishness was not Zyung’s vision,” Ianthe said. “He demanded worship and fealty. He ruled with cruelty and ruthless might as the Old Breed have always done.”

  “Not all of them,” said Sungui. “The wisest ones have never done so.”

  Ianthe simmered, her taloned fists clenching.

  “Iardu…” She said the name as if it were a curse. “The Shaper has reshaped you fools! Now I understand his blood scattered upon the salt of Zyung. You are under his spell even now!”

  “No.” Sungui stepped close to the Panther. She was beginning to vex him. Yet he had expected this. “Say rather that the long spell of Zyung has been broken by Iardu’s sacrifice. His salted heart has permeated our vision, awakened us like cold water poured in the face of a sleeper. He has given u
s wisdom, an understanding of his own Great Idea, his dream that carved these Five Cities and built this land of wonders. Inside of us the conflicting dreams of Zyung and Iardu have blended into one. The Living Empire will be reborn by this united wisdom, as we ourselves have been. Since you cannot understand this, Panther, bother me no more. You may leave the New Seraphim if you wish. With or without you we sail for home this night.”

  Sungui turned his back to Ianthe and walked toward the middle deck. He must speak with the captain before the long journey home could begin.

  The Panther struck without a sound. She pounced upon Sungui’s back and sank her talons into his neck. Gammir in wolf form snapped yellow fangs as Ianthe straddled Sungui and flipped him over to expose vulnerable belly and chest. Ianthe spat a word of power, and suddenly Sungui could neither move nor speak. His connection to the minds of the New Seraphim had been broken, cut from him as easily as sliced threads.

  Ianthe peered into his face. She was half woman and half Panther now. Gammir’s red wolf-eyes loomed next to hers, which were sharp as black diamonds.

  “Now I will drink your essence,” Ianthe said, panting. “Not through your salt, but through your blood. The poison of Iardu will not harm me. I will take your place at the head of these New Seraphim. They will follow me again as they followed me in this rebellion. I will take these ships and burn this land to ash like the Serpents of old. Then I will rear a throne of white bones in Khyrei and rule a kingdom of the dead from its seat.” Her talons dug deeper into Sungui’s bleeding flesh. “And when I am done I will come for your Living Empire and tear it to shreds. The dreams of Zyung and Iardu will both die, and only my dream will endure. The dream of Blood and Fire and Suffering. The oldest dream of all.”

  Ianthe’s mouth opened wide, and her fangs sank into Sungui’s neck. There was little pain, but a great sense of violation. Ianthe sucked greedily upon the open wound she had made, pulling the first glimmers of Sungui’s life out in a gush of scarlet fluid. It dribbled from her mouth along her chin and breasts, spotting the golden wood of the deck.

  Gammir’s fangs sank into Sungui’s paralyzed wrist. Now two ragged holes poured out Sungui’s lifeblood and soul-essence together. Panther and Wolf suckled at the torn flesh.

  Where are my cousins? Where is Eshad, Myrinhama, even Durangshara? Why do they not rush to save me from these leeches? Where are Captain Ajithi and his soldiers? How can these beasts slay me here in the plain sight of the surrounding armada?

  Then the truth of it came to Sungui. Ianthe’s magic was hiding her red feast from all those around them, as she had hidden her treachery from Zyung. Nobody on the deck of the Daystar saw this feeding, this act of heinous blood magic, nor did anyone else among the legions or the New Seraphim. Ianthe’s spell had redirected their eyes and their minds.

  How much blood do I have? How much longer until they have swallowed it all?

  A sensation of horrid pleasure twisted Sungui’s body. He thrashed and moaned, but none would hear it. Now, when he finally saw the beauty of life unfolding into a bright future, Sungui wanted to live more than ever. He had hungered for chaos and glory and bloodletting. Yet now he hungered for life itself, and the chance to make it better. To fulfill the promise of Zyung’s imperfect dream by investing it with Iardu’s kindness.

  Stars dimmed in the upper darkness.

  Ianthe drank. Gammir drank.

  Sungui withered.

  Thunder rocked the decks. The dreadnought trembled in the air. A burst of white light and flames filled Sungui’s vision. Two shapes hurtled from the light, colliding with the blood drinkers and tearing them away.

  Ianthe screeched while Gammir howled. Their bodies slammed into the forward mast, which rocked the ship again. Four figures, intertwined, fell to the middle deck while soldiers and crewmen rushed away from them. The Panther’s spell was broken. Sungui lurched to his feet, still bleeding from neck and wrist. On the scorched deck below the forecastle Vireon grasped Gammir the Wolf by his thick neck. His blonde Queen held the White Panther in a similar deathgrip, white flames dripping from her eyes.

  Alua of the Old Breed.

  Sungui knew her name because Iardu had known it. The Panther and the Queen wrestled inside a ball of white flame, black claws raking pale skin, bloody fangs gnashing at Alua’s face.

  Sungui’s limbs were numb. He could do little else but watch the conflict.

  “Unclean beast!” Alua screamed wrath and flame across the Panther’s roaring snout. “Malignant devil! Deceiver! Slayer of Children! Today you pay for your crimes!” Alua’s hands tore at the Panther’s snowy pelt, ripping red chunks of flesh from the bone. They burned to ash as she tossed them across the deck.

  Vireon said nothing as he wrestled with the Black Wolf. His teeth were gritted, his mighty arms clasped tight about the brute’s neck. Gammir was caught fast in the trap of the Giant-King’s strength. The Wolf sprouted leathery wings like those of a Trill, flapping desperately. Yet Vireon’s weight kept him pinned to the deck. His lupine claws tore at Vireon’s chest and legs but could not break the bronze skin.

  The New Seraphim began to float across the railings from other ships, gathering about Sungui to watch the spectacle of white flames and dueling enemies. Durangshara raised his hand as if to cast a bolt of deathlight upon all four of them, but Sungui stopped him with a glance. Durangshara lowered the hand, and the Seraphim observed in silence.

  The flames burned Ianthe’s flesh and charred the deck, but they did not ignite the Ethus wood. Even if they had, the Seraphim could have stopped the burning with a few words. There was little danger to the ship itself, and Sungui understood the justice that had fallen upon Wolf and Panther. Vireon and Alua had suffered much at the hands of these two fiends. This was the moment where the wronged King and Queen would exact their well-deserved recompense.

  “You burned me to nothing once before, Ytara!” growled the Panther. “Yet I took refuge in your own belly. Have you learned nothing?”

  Ianthe reared up on her hind claws and smashed Alua, who was also Ytara, to the deck. The white flame extinguished itself, except for the fires of Alua’s eyes, which burned brighter now. The Panther raked its black talons across her stomach with a splash of crimson. The fanged maw opened wide enough to snap off Alua’s head, but her swift hands grabbed the upper and lower jaw. The Panther’s fangs hovered a finger’s breadth from her face.

  “I have learned many things,” said Alua. “Including the Bitch of Khyrei’s true name.”

  In that instant the Panther abandoned its attempts to rend Alua’s flesh. It tore away from her and sprouted eagle’s wings from its back, leaping across the railing toward the night sky. Sungui could almost feel Ianthe’s fear from the top of the forecastle steps.

  Alua grabbed the Panther’s whipping tail and slammed the winged beast against the deck. The dreadnought trembled a third time. Alua’s voice rose in a single word loud as a thunderbolt, as if she spoke with the voice of dead Zyung himself. Soldiers and slaves clasped their hands over their ears, so loud was that sound.

  Where Ianthe had been scrambling upon the deck, there now stood a statue of opaque crystal in the form of a winged panther. Alua’s flame ran along its back, and the frozen wings shattered like panes of glass. Ianthe’s essence seethed inside the crystal prison. Alua examined her handiwork as the wounds on her body vanished beneath the power of her flame.

  Vireon held the Black Wolf above his head now. The beast erupted with tendrils of darkness like questing black tongues. They wrapped about Vireon’s limbs, their thorny tips piercing his flesh where claws and fangs could not. With a great cry of pain and indignation, the Giant-King tore the Wolf’s body in half. Scarlet sprayed across the deck, and Gammir’s bones cracked like hammered boulders.

  The Wolf howled as Vireon stood over its bisected form. The black tendrils faded to smoke and the lupine body parts flowed into the shape of a mangled and broken man. Gammir stared up at Vireon with yellow wolf-eyes that had not changed at a
ll. His maimed arms and legs shuddered, his shattered spine convulsing. A gout of black gore burst from between his lips.

  “Brother…” gasped Gammir. “Kill me now. You’ve earned the right.”

  Vireon grabbed Gammir by the neck and lifted him to dangle like a ruined doll. “I too have learned many things, False Brother,” he said. The holes bored into his flesh by the cutting tendrils leaked blood across his stomach and legs. He seemed to feel no pain from these wounds. “I know that you cannot be killed as a Man is killed. You are no longer a Man, but a sorcerer. So are we both now, though spawned by different fathers.”

  He tossed Gammir’s mangled body next to the crystallized Panther. Alua looked upon the wailing Wolf without pity. Vireon walked near and embraced her.

  Gammir spat a fresh torrent of blood across the deck. “You will devour us then. Take our essence into yourselves.” He smiled through his pain. “There is no other way to end us. I welcome this, Brother. Let me become a part of you, as I was never truly a part of your family. Let me be the memory that will haunt you forever.”

  “No, Kinslayer,” said Vireon. “You murdered my brother and my cousins. The Bitch of Khyrei murdered my father… and our daughter. Yet we will not devour you.”

  “You must!” choked Gammir. “Or we will return, and the killing will begin again.”

  “There are fates worse than death for immortals,” said Alua. “This you will discover, Wolf. You will be bound to your Panther forever.”

  A fresh blast of the white flame coursed from Alua’s eyes. It drowned Gammir’s cries along with his shattered body. When the flames faded he, too, was a frozen lump of foggy crystal.

  Alua sang an ancient song. Vireon held her left hand as her right dripped molten fires between its fingers. The crystallized pair smoked and steamed and began to merge. In a few swift moments, a single lump of amorphous quartz lay where the Wolf and Panther had been. It was large as a boulder and murky as the waters of a blood-glutted river.