brightening behind him, like the sun coming from behind a cloud. His shadow touched the black-robed man who turned his head in time to see Zanzeroth, his spear tip now inches away.
THE GLOW AROUND Vendevorex shifted, swirled, and coalesced as he mentally positioned the floating particles in the edges of the field. All below looked up, both men and dragons. Vendevorex activated the white plastic disk he’d removed from Hezekiah’s torso. Stamped on the outer edge of the plastic were the words, “Voice of GodTM.”
“I AM VENDEVOREX!” he announced. His amplified words boomed like a clap of thunder and the din of voices beneath him lessened. He swooped within the sphere of light that surrounded him, careful to maintain the motionless illusion that he had created. Vendevorex had grown to a hundred feet in height, his eyes bright with flame, lightning playing about his outstretched wings. He decided on a last second improvement to the illusion, and suddenly his claws became the blue-gray of hardened-steel as they grew as long as swords. “HEED ME, O DRAGONS! DROP YOUR WEAPONS, OR FACE MY WRATH! THIS BATTLE IS OVER!”
“THE HELL IT is,” Pet heard a nearby man shout, and a dozen men joined him in a battle cry. The sound of blade against blade rung all around the platform.
“Sire,” Kanst said behind him.
“I’ve considered your advice, Kanst,” Albekizan said, his voice trembling. “I’ll return to the castle. Make sure your soldiers continue to fight. And kill that damned wizard! Do it personally!”
“Of course, Sire,” Kanst said.
The entire platform shuddered as Albekizan and Kanst leapt into the sky like sparrows before a cat. Alone on the platform, Pet struggled to free himself to no avail.
ALIVE, THOUGHT ZANZEROTH as he heard the wizard’s voice. It was too late to turn back now. His spear struck the black-robed man squarely in the chest. Zanzeroth tilted his wings so that his great speed would cause him to swoop skyward, carrying the impaled human with him. Alas, the human proved too heavy for the maneuver; he was more like a mound of stone than flesh. The spear shaft snapped. The human was thrown to his back by the force of the blow but Zanzeroth’s momentum shifted as well. Instead of returning to the sky, he hit the rooftop hard. He slid across the wooden roof, splinters tearing away his bandages, until he collided with the brick chimney. His breath exploded from him in a pained cry.
“DRAGONS!” Vendevorex shouted.“RETURN TO YOUR BARRACKS AT ONCE! FEAR MY VENGEANCE!”
Alas, the dragons didn’t seem to fear his vengeance as much as he’d hoped. Below him, the fighting resumed once more, though the dragons now fought more defensively as the humans surged against their ranks. To stop fighting was to risk death. But perhaps there was another way to stop the battle. Albekizan had taken flight, as had Kanst who flew straight toward the illusion. If he could slay them here, in full sight of the troops, the war would be won.
Kanst reached the edge of the illusion and struck with his spear, then spun off balance when the blow connected only with air. Vendevorex knew he’d never have a better chance. He shifted his concentration to his hind-talons, allowing the illusion around him to crumble as he formed a boiling ball of the Vengeance of the Ancestors. He hurled the flaming orb toward his target.
Kanst recovered from the missed blow much faster than Vendevorex would have guessed. The general turned, steadying himself on outstretched wings, just in time to face the flame that raced toward him. He then did the worst thing possible from Vendevorex’s view. He thrust his chest forward, straight into the path of the flame, allowing the deadly plasma to splash against his iron breastplate.
Iron. The one thing the Vengeance wouldn’t burn.
ZANZEROTH SHOOK HIS head to chase away the stars. There was the faintest vibration on the boards beneath him.
Move.
He rolled aside as the axe sunk deep into the wood where he had rested. He kept rolling, tumbling from the roof’s edge, letting the rush of wind catch his wings. He pushed himself higher into the air, noticing Vendevorex attacking Kanst. There was no time to give thought as to why the wizard was still alive. He wheeled in the air, bringing himself around once more toward the roof. The man stood, his axe tightly gripped in both hands, his legs braced, his eyes fixed upon Zanzeroth. Zanzeroth passed over the rooftop well beyond the man’s reach as he freed his whip from his belt with his tail, placing it in his rear talons.
“Let’s see how formidable you are without that axe,” he said.
The hunter climbed higher in the air then wheeled once more, diving straight at his opponent. The human raised the axe, preparing to strike. At the last second Zanzeroth pulled up as the human swung his axe forward. With a flick of his hind claws the whip snared the axe-shaft, ripping it from the man’s hands.
KANST COULD SEE the look of consternation in the wizard’s eyes. He hurled the heavy spear he carried in his rear claws. Vendevorex folded up his wings and dropped from the spear’s path, then, spreading his wings once more, vanished.
“Damn!” Kanst shouted, flying to the spot where the wizard had just been.
“Lose something?”
A sudden weight on his back sent Kanst listing sideways. The wizard had latched onto him, securing himself with his tail around the general’s waist and his claws on each of his wings, the only large expanse of Kanst’s body not protected by armor. In horror, Kanst watched flames burst from his exposed skin. The air rushing over his wings pushed the flames rapidly along their entire length.
The weight on his back lifted as Vendevorex released him. Waves of excruciating pain swept over Kanst’s mind but failed to wash away the realization that he was going to die.
But not alone…
He swung his tail about, hitting the wizard’s leg. He constricted his tail with all his strength. Vendevorex struggled, but to no avail, as Kanst jerked him closer and clamped his rear claws into the wizard’s shin. Then Kanst simply closed his blistered wings to his side and fell. The wizard’s wings couldn’t support their weight. The ground was a long way down.
ZANZEROTH LANDED, BRANDISHING the axe. The weapon was heavy, even for a dragon, and slick with red- brown gore. Zanzeroth felt his hunting spirit stir at the familiar scent of blood and excrement. The black-robed man charged across the roof toward him, as expected. Zanzeroth was ready. He pushed his tail around in a rapid arc, catching the man’s legs while he was still two yards away. As his foe stumbled forward the hunter struck, bringing the axe down hard in the center of the man’s back, severing the spinal cord. His foe fell to the roof, face-first. Zanzeroth relaxed. That had been easier than expected.
Then the human’s arms thrust forward, grabbing Zanzeroth’s ankle. Zanzeroth was startled more by the movement than by the pain of the man’s incredible grip. How could he fight with his spine severed?
With a grunt Zanzeroth swung the axe against the man’s elbow, severing the arm. But the hand that held him didn’t release him. In fact, it squeezed harder still. With a sickening snap his ankle gave way and Zanzeroth toppled.
The human rose to his knees. Zanzeroth felt panic rising in him and struck out in fear, swinging the axe with one talon and landing a solid blow against the back of the man’s head. His opponent ignored the blow and rose to his feet.
Zanzeroth sat up, getting into a position to better defend himself. The hand that held his ankle released him, and scratched its way toward the blood-soaked man, who casually lifted it and placed it back in its proper place.
“What are you?” Zanzeroth muttered.
“His name that sat on him was Death,” the man said in a squeaky, hollow voice. He straightened the brim of his hat before advancing on Zanzeroth. “And hell followed with him.”
VENDEVOREX COULDN’T BELIEVE Kanst’s will. Even with his wings engulfed in flames he wouldn’t release his grip. Vendevorex beat the air but to little avail. The general’s armored weight was too great. He was being dragged down into the crowd of humans below. From the corner of his eye he could see Hezekiah on a nearby roof, and Zanzeroth sprawled before him, looking seriously wounded. If only he could stay in the air long enough to guide the path of his descent, he could reach the artificial man who was more than capable of prying Kanst free.
With a mighty effort he turned toward the rooftop. As he stretched his wings to their fullest to slow his descent, something in his shoulder snapped from the strain. They plummeted earthward.
ZANZEROTH SAW THE ball of flame that had been Kanst blazing toward the roof. The unkillable man stepped
