Lyra burned with anger. Her veins bulged as she surveyed the bodies around the plaza. Even the knowledge that the soldiers were not dead did little to calm her fury. She knew that they very well could be dead if Kaltara deemed it necessary. As her eyes moved over the soldiers rising from the piles, they landed on the headquarters of the Imperial Guard.
“You need demonstrations?” Lyra shouted. “Is that what is required for you to finally think about the God you are defying? Fine. Observe this.”
Lyra’s arms extended fully as she brought them together to point at the headquarters of the Imperial Guard. Tremendous power surged through her arms, her fists bulging, and the skin of her arms rippling viscously. She closed her eyes briefly as she felt the power surge from her combined fists. An invisible force sped across the plaza, distorting the air as it passed.
The force blasted into the front of the three-story building. The large entry doors disappeared, as they were smashed into the building. The sound of an explosion rocked the plaza as huge clouds of dust and stones flew out of every window of the building. Soldiers in front of the building scrambled to get away while others rose and watched in wonder. The debris stopped flying out of the windows, but the building groaned loudly as cracks appeared in the stone walls. The nearby soldiers moved back further.
Suddenly, the headquarters of the Imperial Guard collapsed. The walls all caved inward, and the roof fell on top of them. Within seconds, the building was nothing more than a rubbish heap, a pile of stones and broken columns. A huge cloud of dust rose high over the city.
Colonel Zanta watched the display of power from the steps of the Imperial Palace. He cringed inwardly about approaching someone with such power, but he recognized that someone had to take control of the situation or blood would flow through the city. He marched into the plaza and held his arms high as he rotated in a circle.
“Imperial Guards of Okata,” shouted the colonel. “I am Colonel Zanta, head of the Monitors. Your presence as soldiers in this plaza is no longer required. If you wish to remain as citizens of Okata, you may do so, but I will not tolerate any further moves to harm the Star of Sakova. If you wish to fulfill your duty in a military manner, guard the walls of the city.”
The colonel continued further into the plaza until he stood a few paces away from Lyra. They stared at each other for several moments. The colonel tried to calm his fear, and Lyra tried to suppress her anger.
“I suppose that you are the Star of Sakova?” asked the colonel.
“I am, Colonel Zanta,” Lyra replied. “Is the Katana being brought to me?”
“Along with his council,” nodded the colonel. “I demand that whatever transpires here, it be a fair hearing.”
“It will be as fair as the citizens of Okata will allow,” replied Lyra. “Bring the Councilors out.”
The colonel nodded and signaled to his men. While they were carrying the Katana to the plaza, Lyra cast a spell to clear the dust from the skies overhead. The citizens began trickling into the plaza. Lyra waited patiently.
On the other side of the Imperial Palace, seven figures emerged from an old potters shed in a rundown garden.
“Come with me, HawkShadow,” urged Cherri. “We need to change clothes at my house. Both of us will stand out too much if seen on the streets.”
“StarWind and SkyDancer should join you two,” offered Temiker. “Too many Monitors would notice them.”
HawkShadow and the three Sakovan women moved out of the garden together. Ukaro watched them go before turning to Temiker.
“I am quite impressed with your illusions,” complimented the Chula shaman. “You must teach me some of them before we part company. I can understand the basic principles of the duplicates you conjured in the garden, but how did you disappear when the five illusions were dropped?”
“I didn’t,” smiled Temiker. “All six were illusions. I was already hidden behind another illusion in the far corner. We must hurry to the plaza. I want to be there in case Lyra needs help.”
Ukaro nodded and pulled a hood over his head as the trio exited the garden and merged with the flow of citizens streaming towards the plaza. They split up as they joined with the crowd. Temiker frowned as he entered the plaza and saw Lyra standing in the center. There was no blue cylinder surrounding her. He glanced at the destroyed building and noticed that the Imperial Guards were keeping their distance. Several paces in front of the Star of Sakova was a small band of Monitors, led by Colonel Zanta. Just in front of them was the frozen Katana and blindfolded Councilors. Temiker removed his hood and moved through the crowd so that he would be as close to Lyra as possible.
“Welcome back, citizens of Okata,” Lyra said loudly as the plaza filled to capacity. “Before you are the leaders of Omunga who have decided in the past the course of your nation. I have already told you of the deceit and treachery they have foisted upon you. Now you shall hear what they have to say for themselves. Colonel Zanta, please remove the blindfolds and gags from the Councilors.”
The colonel issued orders to his men who cautiously removed the blindfolds and the gags while being careful not to touch the magical garrotes. The Councilors blinked and looked around the plaza. Several of them gasped when they saw the ruins of the headquarters of the Imperial Guard. Others stared in disbelief at the frozen statue of the Katana. None of them spoke.
The Star of Sakova raised her arm and pointed at the Katana. A streak of light flashed between them and the ice dropped away from the Katana. He shook his head and wobbled slightly as he regained control over his body. As he realized where he was, his first action was to raise his arm and point at Lyra threateningly. His eyes narrowed and his lips moved, but nothing happened. The Katana’s brow creased in frustration as he struggled to get off his magical projectile.
“Cease,” ordered Lyra. “Your magic is worthless against the power of Kaltara. The more you try to harm me, the greater your pain will be.”
“Kaltara?” spat the Katana. “He is nothing to Vand. Your Kaltara was defeated at Vandegar.”
The people in the plaza were confused by the speech. They had no idea who Vand was, although many knew that Kaltara was the god of the Sakovans.
“Vand fled from Vandegar,” retorted the Star of Sakova. “I know he plans to return and bring his vast horde of armies with him, but that is not something that concerns you any longer. Who are you?”
“I am Larst,” spat the Katana. “You may kill me, but that act will not save you or these pitiful people.”
“I will have the truth from you,” demanded Lyra as her arm rose once again.
A streak of blue light shot from Lyra’s fingertip. It struck the Katana in the chest and spread rapidly until his body was covered with dancing blue flames. The Katana howled an inhuman scream, as his skin appeared to peel away from his face. His features contorted, and Colonel Zanta fidgeted as if he would intervene at any moment.
“Stand fast, Colonel,” advised the Star of Sakova. “The magic is not killing the false Katana. It is revealing his true identity.”
People gasped as the Katana doubled over, holding his face with his hands. Lyra waited patiently. Eventually the screaming stopped, and the Katana rose upright. His face was a mask of defiant rage, but it was not the face of Larst. Many in the crowd, including the Monitors and the Councilors, recognized the man as the historian who had spent so much time with First Minister Larst.
“Who are you?” demanded Lyra.
“I am Karnic,” spat the false Katana, “favored aid to the god Vand. Little good this knowledge will do you. Your lives are about to turn to dust. Rejoice in your little victory and prepare to die.”
“He is yours, Colonel,” declared Lyra. “Ask the people what they want done with the false Katana who has ruined their lives.”