Golden fissures appeared on Legaba’s surface. They spread and connected until they formed a web that ensnared him in immobile agony. Legaba lay helpless, netted like some gigantic fish. Or like a spider snared in its own web. Of his Children, there was no sign.
Almovaar cast a final, disdainful glance at his vanquished foe. Then, in a blinding burst of incandescence, he vanished from Legaba’s grim Realm, leaving only his net of golden fire behind to dispel the darkness.
Deities cannot die. Immortality is both their blessing and their curse. But they can be made to suffer – as can their worshippers.@
7
Like Legaba, Jass Imbiah sat at the center of a vast web. She confidently wove its strands from her place on one of the many ships that crowded the harbor of Khambawe. She monitored and controlled the movements of her fighters and jhumbis. Her huangis, some of whom remained with her on the ship while the others were positioned in other sea-craft and in the city, had easily held the negligible ashuma of their Matile foes in check.
For a fleeting moment, the more-potent magic of the Tokoloshe had caused Jass Imbiah some concern. But the Tokoloshes’ numbers were too few, and the ashuma Legaba continually poured into Jass Imbiah was more than enough to offset the minor threat the Tokoloshes’ magic posed.
Although the Uloan ship rocked gently, Jass Imbiah remained motionless, eyes staring straight ahead, face composed in a mask of concentration. In the depths of those dark eyes, however, the huangi gathered around her could detect an ember of triumph that was about to burst into an all-consuming incandescence.
Khambawe was burning. Its people were dying in droves. Jass Imbiah had tested the power of her Matile counterpart, Jass Gebrem, and found it sadly wanting. She had taunted him to demonstrate her contempt, then unleashed the full magical might Legaba had invested within her.
Now, as Legaba had promised Jass Imbiah’s ancestors, Retribution Time had come. Soon, the mainland would belong to the Uloans ...
Jass Imbiah went rigid. The huangi tensed in anticipation. They believed Legaba was about to ride her a final time, imbuing her – and them – with the final measure of ashuma needed to ensure victory.
The huangi were wrong in their assumption. But Jass Imbiah could not tell them that, or anything else. She could not tell them Legaba was ... gone. One moment, he was as much a part of her as her bones and blood; the next he had vanished like a ray of sunlight cut off by a cloud. And in an awful burst of insight, she realized that the cloud would never pass, and Legaba was gone from her forever.
She longed to cry out in protest and despair. But she couldn’t. The moment Legaba left her, another presence filled her in his place. It was the adversary Legaba had revealed to her on the islands after the message from the mainland had arrived.
In her last instant of life, Jass Imbiah attempted to shout a warning to the huangi. But no sound escaped her throat. Instead, her mouth stretched across her face in a rictus that caused blood to drip from its corners. Her eyeballs bulged in their sockets. Her nostrils flared to an unnatural width.
Then, before the horrified gazes of the huangi, Jass Imbiah’s body imploded, as though her skull and bones had suddenly turned to water. Like a burst bladder, her body collapsed within her robes. Her remnants stained the floor of the ship’s cabin.
And the huangi stood alone ... powerless... helpless ....
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The End of the Uloans
1
Waves of sorcerous potency streamed through Jass Gebrem. Blue radiance enveloped his body. His transformed abi shone like the most brilliant of all the Moon Stars. In that blaze of light, he could barely make out the features of Kyroun, who remained at his side. The Amiyas and Believers who surrounded them were little more than blurry shadows that blended with the background.
Within the Oneness, Gebrem, Kyroun and the others had witnessed Almovaar’s victory over Legaba in the Spider God’s Realm. And they had seen the demise of Jass Imbiah, as well as the resulting panic among the suddenly powerless huangi and their followers. And they knew that although the battle had shifted in their direction, it had not yet been won. There was more that needed to be done if Khambawe was to be saved.
No longer did Gebrem feel helpless to do it. The greatest amount of ashuma he had ever managed to summon was as nothing compared to the magical strength that now flowed through every fiber of his body. His ancestors must have known power like this, he thought, when they held sway over half of Abengoni ....
This, he exulted, is how it must feel to be a god!
Kyroun came into focus, then. The Seer’s face bore an expression of reproach, if not disappointment. And Gebrem immediately understood the reason for that reaction. Matile were dying in the streets, and here he was, reveling in personal power rather than concentrating on how he would use it to defeat the Uloans. A sudden shame flooded through him. Perhaps he did not deserve this gift from the new god ...
Then Kyroun spoke inside Gebrem’s mind.
I had similar thoughts when I was first granted this power, my friend. There is no need for shame. There is only the need to do what has to be done.
I understand, Gebrem said.
The Leba reached out. His hand closed around the glowing shaft of his abi. At the moment, he had neither plan nor strategy to save Khambawe, only the raw capability. But the moment his fingers touched the abi, he was given the knowledge of what he should do.
And, with the help of the others in the Oneness, he did it.
2
In the burning, blood-soaked streets of Khambawe, no one noticed the coming of the blue mist ....
The Uloans, sensing victory within their grasp, pressed inexorably forward. They
