by AB Bradley
My magic. Of course. Where in all the hells was Sander? “You think you know the answers, Caspran, but you don’t. Your High King has lied to you, like the Six lied to us. Gods have a funny way of doing that with mortals. You don’t even know the truth of who the Serpent really is.”
Caspran snarled, and his silvery shards floated from the sands into a halo behind him. “The Serpent doesn’t lie to me. My master would never—”
Iron laughed. “He does! I feel sorry for you, alp. You think you’ve known the truth all along, but all along you’ve been a pawn. You’re nothing. You know nothing.”
“Tell me then.” Caspran’s shards accelerated their spin. “Tell me what you know…”
“You want to know the truth?” Iron stepped forward and lifted his jaw. “Sol is the Serpent, yes, but he isn’t alone. He never was alone. In Rosvoi, the Six came to me and told me their shame. In Rosvoi, they told me the story of how they cast their brother out. He is the Seventh Serpent, Caspran, not because there are seven others of his kind, but because he was one of seven. The circle was shattered long before the Godfall. It shattered before your Sun. It shattered before the First. It shattered on the sunrise of creation, when they cast their brother out because they feared the darkness in him.”
Caspran reared back. “You are full of lies—”
“He had six brothers and sisters, Caspran! You know it’s true. Why would I lie here at the end? One was a father who was loyal above all else. One was a sinner, lurking in the shadows.”
“No! He is not one of them. You are a child of lies, Fireborn.” The shards whirred so fast wind billowed around the alp, tossing his silvery hair into wild tendrils framing his hateful face.
Iron lifted his chin. “One was a lover, kind and gentle. One was an innocent, a shining child immortal.”
Red flushed Caspran’s cheeks. “It can’t be true. My master would tell me if he shared their blood!”
“One was a counter who remembered all things.”
“Shut up, Fireborn.” The alp’s shards spun so fast now they formed an unbroken silver circle. “SHUT UP!”
“And one was a mother, who loved so much she burned!”
A flash of silver zipped from Caspran’s halo. A line of fire traced across Iron’s cheek. Wet oozed to his jaw and dripped rosy droplets on his collar. Iron swallowed and stepped forward. “You’ve spent your existence hating the Six. How does it feel knowing you serve the Seventh? He’s not greater than them. He is them.”
Madness collected in a hurricane behind his jeweled eyes. “You are nothing but lies,” Caspran said as his razor rejoined the others. “My…my master would never lie to me.”
Iron gripped Fang in both hands and locked his elbows. There facing death, he closed his eyes. If there is any power of the Six left in the world, hear my prayer. I have seen the poison that anger brings. I have witnessed the slaughter that vengeance makes. I blamed you for it, and rightfully so. But I can’t hate anymore. I won’t go to my death bitterly. I’ll go to it defending the ones and the world I love. I forgive you. Please, forgive me too.
Iron opened his eyes. His rage softened beneath a tranquil tide. Wind gusted through the desert, but this time it did not come alone. Five figures appeared in the swirling grains behind the alp, their bodies cloaked in ghostly smoke.
Vigal grinned and stepped forward, the X scarred over his face warping with his silly smile. Round Gil laughed and slapped his swollen belly. Fiolle nodded and winked. She was stiff as a soldier even in death. Thip took a dramatic bow, pinching the hem of his hat in respect as he straightened. Lastly, Ayska stepped forward. I love you, she mouthed. Thank you.
Quickly as they came, the breeze took them from him. Iron didn’t weep or sob or shudder. No, he squeezed Fang’s grip and smiled.
“Why do you laugh?” Caspran asked. “I’ve got no more time for your lies. Your friends approach and I have some blood to spill. Say goodbye to your friends.”
“I’ll say goodbye to you, Caspran, because I’m going to kill you before you touch them. I hope you drown in oblivion for eternity.”
Iron and launched himself at the alp. Caspran shrieked, flinging his deadly shards like silver comets.
Each second stretched into an hour. Sand hung around Iron like fat snowflakes. He closed his eyes and thought of Sander’s teachings, the endless days and long nights perfecting Shade Stride as his master made wisecracks and droned on about grand adventures that probably never happened. Iron snickered, and his feet spun lightly on the sand as his body whirled like the wind. He slashed Fang in an arc before him and thought of the father he loved more than any other.
A hard thunk struck the blade as one of Caspran’s shards exploded against the sword. Hot sparks washed across Iron’s cheeks, and the weapon vibrated violently. His feet moved in tune to the Sinner. Sin was a necessary thing but not necessarily evil. He could sin to save, sin to comfort, sin to learn. Sin gave the world its rough edges and forced mankind onto better paths.
Even with his eyes closed, he sensed another two shards racing his way. His feet planted into Loyal Stance, and he was back on the deck of the Scarlet Widowmaker, listening to Ayska hound him about his clumsy footfalls that kept slipping back into Shade Stride. Her touch, her smell, her smile, they burned against his heart.
Iron swung Fang in a figure eight, and two thuds rang against the steel. Embers singed his knuckles as sweat rolled down his temples.
His feet pounded sand; his lungs burned with each breath. Three shards whistled toward him. Iron came to the balls of his feet and pressed two fingers against the flat of his blade, swiveling Fang until it formed a narrow band between him and his enemy. Nephele loved this position the most. She whispered the secrets of the Gentle Dance, a woman who couched her tender heart in smirks and sharp words. Raised high and brought low by the Serpent Sun, she thrived like a single rose in a desert. Rage could not take her. Death could not scare her. Somehow, she found her way through darkness.
Iron lifted to a foot and pirouetted. The flat of his blade caught all three shards and sent them flying.
Caspran’s raging scream gave Iron hope. He sensed four daggers shoot out next. Four. A man should fear four. No man could possibly defend against so many weapons at once—but a foolish child might. A child who didn’t think, who simply did, because in his imagination the hopes and dreams of the world were born.
Iron bent his knees and leaned forward, Fang clutched in both hands. He inhaled, remembering those days in the desert with Batbayar, a priest who lived in his enemy’s shadow waiting for the day Iron would come calling. Iron hated that damnable reed the Kerran lashed against his cheek whenever he miss-stepped, but he smiled at the memory anyway. Fang slashed in a furious X, and in a succession of four quick dings, the razors thudded into the sand.
I have only one stance now, he thought, opening his eyes.
Caspran stood a few yards away, mouth parted in an O of surprise. “How…how did you destroy them? They had the Serpent’s magic. They…they could not be ruined.”
Iron took another deep breath and locked his elbows, pointing Fang at Caspran’s heart. Just a little while longer. Stall—he had to stall. “Maybe…” Iron threw his shoulders back. “Maybe they know their master then.”
Caspran’s eyes widened into honeyed moons. “What?”
“You know the answer, Brother Caspran. Now accept it.”
The alp’s hands formed quivering fists while his fanged teeth formed a white wall. “The Serpent is wise. He desires you for some greater plan, not because you are him.”
“Seems like your god keeps secrets from you, just like all the rest. You’re not special. You’re not much of anything.”
The alp had no words for Iron. Good. Keep playing with the frayed threads of his sanity.
“That’s the greatest lesson you’ll learn before I kill you,” Iron continued. “Your master wants me because he isn’t whole. For the Serpent Sun to rise, the Serpent needs both halves of his hea
rt. A shame you didn’t know. I guess the Serpent didn’t even trust the mighty alp with the truth, huh?”
Caspran’s entire body trembled as his head shook. “What—what are you saying?”
“Two titans ruled the First Sun. Two titans! Freidon ruled the North and hated the Six. Asgeron ruled the South and loved them. Freidon hated Asgeron for loving them, so he started the first war. He started it! That’s who your stupid fucking Serpent is—half a god so consumed by hate, he’d destroy everything just to destroy the other gods. After he’s done with us, he’ll kill you too. The only way to kill a god is to forget them, and the only way to forget them is to destroy what they’ve created. You have to see that. The Six will never die while you and I live.”
The alp’s lips slowly sealed. He glared, unblinking. The madness behind his eyes bubbled to the surface. A tear slipped down his cheek. “No…That’s—that’s not…”
I’ve broken him, Iron thought. He deserved it. The truth is better than any sword to the chest. His gaze flashed to Fang. Almost.
“Iron!” Sander’s voice pierced the sky.
“Master!” Iron exhaled and danced back, rotating around the alp until the others came into view. Wind pressed Sander’s wild hair against his brow. Nephele and Sigrid trailed behind with Batbayar near the rear. Kalila came last. Her dull eyes fixed on her sister’s corpse, her lips mouthing something Iron couldn’t understand.
A flash of movement brought him back to his enemy. Idiot!
Caspran’s fist slammed like a battering ram into Iron’s chest, and once again he flew over the sands. This time, instead of the desert catching him, Sander did. Iron groaned at the pain flowering in his chest but quickly found his footing. Warmth from Fang ebbed from his hand into his ribs, and then the ache faded.
Sander’s eyes frantically searched his own. “Gods be damned, boy, don’t you go running off like that. The swifts pushed us back. He let you through, but not even Batbayar’s gourds could punch a hole in those flying rats.”
“Ayska’s gone, Sander.” Iron slipped to his feet. His chest throbbed from the strike, and the world blurred. “She died trying to stop him. I—I tried to stop her, but…”
Sander’s jaw tightened. “The circle is broken.”
“The circle is broken,” Iron repeated.
“This does not bode well for us,” Sigrid stated.
“We fight still.” Batbayar cracked his knuckles. “We fight for all innocents of the Third Sun.”
“All is not lost until the last one falls,” Nephele said. “We are with you until the end, Iron.”
Caspran stood before them, bent and heaving, his head cocked to the side. Iron saw the break in the alp’s eyes. The truth had done more than imbalance the priest. It had sheared what few threads of sanity moored Caspran to this world.
“You’ve all failed miserably, yes, yes you have.” He raked his fingers down his face, the nails leaving scratches on his snowy skin. “Hahaha! You’ll all die now. Hah! You’ll die, and I’ll bring this boy to my master despite his blasphemous words.” He raised a hand, and more shards wormed their way from his clothes.
“Ayska! Ayska!” Kalila skidded to her knees and grasped her sister’s corpse, wailing, sobbing, rocking.
Caspran sneered and pointed a hand at the woman. “First this brainless moron dies. You champions of the Six can watch. How about that?”
Iron whipped around and met his master’s eyes. “It’s time. Hold my oath fulfilled. Hold it fulfilled now!”
“Forgive me for not doing this sooner. Please don’t hate me, Iron.”
“Father, I could never hate you.”
Sander beamed a proud smile. “You are released. Show them, Iron. Though the circle is shattered, show them what my son can do.”
The chain around Iron’s heart disintegrated.
A wave of light exploded from Fang and smashed against Caspran’s shards, sending them careening into the sands. Iron bolted in the blast’s wake in a blur of flesh and wind. He skidded to a halt between the alp and Kalila, brandishing the sword at his enemy. “You will not harm her.”
Caspran reared back like an angry cobra. Fang’s light reflected in his wide, amber eyes. “You wield the Fang of Asgeron? But how? You cannot wield it. It is lost!” He rubbed his palms together and flashed his brows. “No, no, it’s all a human trick. So he has magic left. Hahaha! The High King warned me of his power.”
“You’re broken, Caspran,” Iron said.
“You have a wise master to keep your treasures so well hidden. No matter. No matter at all. The Serpent’s power flows through my blood.”
“Mine as well.” Smoke rose in tendrils from Iron’s arms and legs. He floated a hair above the sand. His clothes billowed in a nonexistent wind. “Go to Sol. Tell him I’m coming for him. You’re done here.”
Caspran cackled as the Six’s champions slowly surrounded the alp. Seeing the circle walling him in, Caspran recollected himself and wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. “Without you? That’s my death then and not yours. No, you’re coming with me. All these others will die of course, but you will come. I’ll make you watch. Oh yes, I’ll make you watch like I made you watch the others.”
“You might have broken the circle, but I’ll fight you Caspran, and this time it you’ll see my real power. It won’t be so easy to get to them if you have to go through me first.”
“It’s easier than you think. Look for yourself!”
A cold grip clamped over Iron’s heart, and he whirled around. Six shards hovered over Kalila, pointed at her head. Ayska’s sister hadn’t noticed them, huddled and whimpering over her sister’s corpse.
“Kalila!” Iron screamed. “Kalila!”
Caspran’s daggers descended at a snail’s pace toward their target.
Please, gods please, Iron prayed. “Kalila, you have to come back to us.”
Kalila did not respond. The daggers sunk within a few inches of her head.
“I loved her too,” Iron said.
Kalila’s back heaved in a great sob.
“She will live as long as we remember. But we have to survive to remember. We need you to remember, Kalila. I need you to remember. For Ayska—remember.”
The razors lowered within a hair of her skin. Caspran’s cackle filled the sky.
Everything changed then.
Kalila stiffened. Her wide back swelled, but this time something differed about her movement. She lowered Ayska’s body and stared behind her, locking gazed with Iron.
Her eyes, her eyes, the dim flame in her eyes burned an inferno in the night. An energy once hidden beneath a chasm burst forth and dazzled over her dark cheeks. Caspran’s daggers froze, then fell onto the sand. Kalila rose, the crackling fire in her eyes licking her brow without blistering skin. “The circle was broken, but blood and fire sealed it,” she roared. “Forgive us, oh beloved sons and daughters, for hope requires sacrifice.”
No longer was she a simple, gentle giant. The woman before Iron stood tall and strong, her features etched from stone, her chin held high. No longer would she cower in a corner or fear a flock of swifts.
“I don’t understand.” Iron shook his head in disbelief. “But how?”
“Our father knew the Godfall would come, and he knew I would be chosen as the Loyal Father’s champion. He sealed my soul within me to hide it from the alp. Only when the Father’s Lament came to pass would it be free again, and only the Mother’s true champion could do it.”
“Ayska wasn’t delirious,” Iron rasped. “It was you. All along, you were the chosen champion of the Father.”
“And you the Mother’s. All the champions are gathered now, one for each of the Six.” Kalila raised a hand. A ring of white-hot fire crackled around it, and she pointed to Iron. “The alignment is at hand, and the circle is sealed. I am Kalila Masrari, Priestess of the Loyal Father, Daughter who Defends the Defenseless and Handmaiden of Divinity.”
Caspran’s wraithlike shriek nearly brought Iron to his knees.
The alp would still kill them. Iron hadn’t mended the circle, an impossible task with no champion for the Mother.
The alp launched himself at Iron. Kalila’s flames flared, and Caspran seized so hard he collapsed in a writhing mass.
“I hold you, demon,” she spat. “Hound of the High King, you will heel before me.”
“The circle is sealed,” Sander called, stepping forward. A ring of fire surrounded his outstretched hand. He pointed at Iron. “I am Sander Hale, Priest of the Slippery Sinner, Collector of Gold Curiosities and Patron of Pious Reminders.”
Nephele joined Sander and raised a hand crowned by flame. “I can’t believe I didn’t see her in you before, Iron. The circle is sealed. I am Nephele Catrona, Priestess of the Gentle Lover, Patroness of Soft Caresses and Guardian of Unspoken Longings.”
Sigrid raised her hand as flames roiled around her knuckles. “The circle is sealed. I am Sigrid Ostergaard, Priestess of the Coin Counter, Patroness of Forgotten Memories and the Pallbearer of Long Histories.”
“I don’t understand…” Iron retreated a step, keeping the wailing Caspran in view. “The circle’s still broken. I’m not the Mother’s champion. I never was…was I?”
Lastly, Batbayar approached. He clapped his hands together, and flames erupted between them. He peeled his palms apart and pointed a finger cloaked in an inferno at Iron. “The circle is sealed, oh blessed arphanarat. I am Batbayar Opani, Priest of the Shining Child, Herald of Misplaced Purity and Advocate of Beautiful Dreams.”
“But the Mother—I don’t know her stance. I can’t—can’t fight him without it!”
“You do know her stance,” Sander said. “You are the Fireborn Champion. It’s time you see what power slept inside you all these years. Open your eyes and burn as she did. Say the words.”