that they were charging. “Let's keep-”
The mul was interrupted by a loud whoosh, and a large sphere of black haze appeared in the
air. It hovered there for a moment, then gently settled onto the ground and began forming
the shadow of a slender woman.
As it drained from the air, the dark fog left a winsome sorceress standing in its place.
She had waves of amber hair spilling over her shoulders, and her skin was as dark as
ebony. Her eyes had no pupils and glowed like blue embers, while wisps of black shadow
slipped from between her lips whenever she exhaled.
“Good timing, Sadira,” Rikus said, accustomed to seeing his wife arrive in this manner.
Like Magnus, she had also visited the Pristine Tower. As a result, she had been
transformed into something the mul did not understand-and that he was not entirely sure he
liked.
Sadira slipped past Rikus and Magnus. “I see only seven giants,” she said, kneeling on the
ground. “I thought there were eight.”
Turning back toward their attackers, Rikus saw that his wife's conspicuous arrival had
caused the giants to stop and reach for more boulders to throw. The mul was not surprised,
for even the dullest warrior would recognize Sadira as a sorceress and approach her with
caution.
Rikus pointed at Tay's prone form. “The eighth is lying over there.”
“Good.”
Sadira turned one ebony palm into the sky. Rikus was surprised to see the signet ring of
her other husband, Agis of Asticles, glimmering on her finger. Before the mul could ask
where it had come from, a string of mystic syllables flowed from the sorceress's blue
lips, and a wave of pulsing red energy sizzled into the valley floor. The glow fanned
outward from her fingers in a brilliant flash. Stone and sand began to melt into a hot,
viscous mud, sending yellow wisps of acrid smoke curling into the sky.
The spell swept out to Yab and his company. Screaming in terror and confusion, the giants
sank to their waists in the mush. The boulders they had been grasping turned to liquid and
drained from between their fingers. Then the whole field gradually hardened into a
steaming orange plain as smooth as glass. The titan wearing the patch roared in anger and
began to pound at the lustrous ground, but the stuff was as hard as granite and showed no
sign of cracking.
Sadira withdrew a ball of yellow wax from her pocket and began working it between her
fingers. Rikus knew from experience that she was preparing some sort of fire spell.
Rikus laid a hand across her wrists. “How long will your first spell hold them?”
“Until the sun goes down.”
Rikus nodded, for it was the answer he had expected. Sadira's powers lasted as long as the
sun was in the sky, and generally so did any spell that she cast during the day. There
were exceptions, however, so he had thought it wisest to check before making his next
suggestion.
“You might not want to kill the giants,” he said. “They seem to know something about Agis
and Tithian. They also claimed that the Dark Lens was stolen from them, and that if we
don't give it back, something terrible will happen.”
Sadira's eyes flashed a deeper shade of blue. “Do you believe them?”
Rikus shrugged. “I didn't have time to ask many questions,” he said. “But I don't think
we'll solve anything by killing this bunch. The giants will just send more warriors to
recover the lens. We'd be better off to convince them that we don't have it.”
Sadira considered this for a moment, then nodded. “We'll talk with them later,” she said.
“But I must return to Tyr now. The warder had just opened the chamber doors when I
received Magnus's message, and I should be there.”
Rikus nodded. “We'll stay here.”
Sadira shook her head. “You're needed in Tyr, to lead the legion out of the city,” she
said. “Return as quickly as you can. I'd take you with me, but the spell I must