by Chris Fox
“It’s not like you to be so brave, Isis,” Nephthys said, flipping to her feet. She drew a long thin blade, forged from the same black metal as her armor. “You were always the weakest of us, until you adopted that furry form. Even now you’re but a shadow of the true warriors.”
“It’s a good thing she brought one then,” Sekhmet taunted, her golden spear emerging from Nephthys’s throat, silencing the woman. “You talk too much, Nephthys. You always did.”
Then Sekhmet spun back into the shadows. Isis gave a wolfish smile and did the same. “You’re outnumbered, and your husband isn’t here to protect you.”
That last was designed to do more than anger her. She wanted Nephthys to panic. Her husband would feel that, and it would bring Set running.
“You think I need his protection?” Nephthys rasped, her ruined throat already healing. The armor had begun to repair itself as well. That could be a problem. “Come and find out.”
Nephthys spun in a slow arc, shifting on the balls of her feet. It was a warrior’s stance, and it drove home how right the woman was. She’d always been a better warrior than Isis, though Sekhmet was Nephthys’s equal. Or had been anyway. Who knew how strong Nephthys had become during the time the other gods had slept?
A wave of green energy shot from the darkness, competing with the explosions from the artillery falling around them. Nephthys sagged to her knees, but immediately began struggling to her feet. Sekhmet didn’t give her any quarter, gliding forward and ramming her spear through the knee joint on Nephthys’s right leg.
Isis bounded forward and seized the injured leg. She pulled with all her might, and gave a wicked grin when Sekhmet seized Nephthys and began pulling the opposite direction. The leg tore free with a pop and a spray of gore, drawing a shriek of pain from the black goddess.
“You’ll pay for—” she began, but another form emerged from the darkness. Osiris rammed his sword through her breastplate. The weapon pierced the armor with a sickening crunch; before Nephthys could react, pulses of sickly black light began flowing out of her corrupt heart and up the weapon.
“A bit anticlimactic, I know,” Osiris said, gritting his teeth as the flow of pulses came more quickly. “But we’re pressed for time. Just die, so we can do the same to your husband.”
72
On Four Legs
Blair ran fast and low through the mist-coated grass. He moved with a light blur, but was careful not to expend too much energy. He savored the thin trickle of moonlight, though it wouldn’t provide much power before he reached the Ark.
There was no sign of either Trevor or Liz, but he was confident they were lurking in the darkness near him. He wondered for the millionth time why Isis hadn’t given males the ability to use that power, as it left them at a great disadvantage compared to the other supernatural predators he’d battled.
We have other advantages, Ka-Dun. If you wish more stealth, trust in me and I will guide you.
He trusted the beast in the same way he trusted his arms or legs. It was part of him, and he ceded control willingly. There was a rush of heat through his entire body, then something like the change from human to werewolf. This change was different, though. Instead of growing larger, he grew smaller.
Within a few steps he found he had four legs; instead of hands he had paws. His fur was thicker, his muzzle longer. He’d become a wolf, the same way he’d seen Ahiga do all those months ago back on the beach in Peru.
Despite the dire circumstances and impending battle Blair felt better than he had in months. There was something harmonious about the wolf. It bonded him to the land, and he longed to surround himself with his pack.
He loped through the darkness, bounding over a grassy knoll. It carried him to the base of the Ark, near the far corner, away from the fighting. Explosions and gunfire split the night, broken by cries from the dead or dying. He ran low and fast next to the Ark, and not a single demon turned in his direction. They were too busy getting shelled by Mohn’s artillery, or crushed under the orbital bombardment from the Skyhammer.
Blair finally reached the mouth of the tunnel at the wall’s center. He slowed as he approached, carefully peering around the corner. Nothing. At first he thought it curious the place was undefended, but it quickly occurred to him why Set hadn’t bothered leaving more of an internal defense. He was the lord of this Ark, and even another Ark Lord couldn’t do much to harm the place. Unless they had a Primary Access Key. As he understood it, only two existed, and Osiris had theorized that Set possessed one.
That meant Set only had to fear the remaining key, and what were the odds of a small pack sneaking into the Ark with it? Pretty damn high, as it turned out. Blair gave a wolfish grin, trotting up the corridor into the darkness. His enhanced vision allowed him to see, especially with the soft glow from the diamonds set into the wall.
He wasn’t sure he wanted to, though. This place had a stench to it, layered decay that made him want to vomit. Refuse and worse had been smeared on the walls. It was as if this Ark had been inhabited by squatters for a very long time. His lupine senses allowed him to detect every nuance of the stench, and he found himself sneezing repeatedly. It was terrible.
Blair tried not to notice the smell as he made his way deeper into the Ark. He was so focused on his progress that he leapt into the air with a yelp when Liz appeared beside him.
“Sorry,” she whispered. She’d returned to human form, and was peering around at the walls. “What the hell happened to this place?”
Blair shifted back to human form, sighing in relief as his sense of smell returned to normal. Now he just wanted to gag, instead of vomit. “I don’t know. Guess Set isn’t much for housekeeping. Maybe his demons haven’t been housebroken.”
“Whatever the reason, this place makes me long for a shower,” Trevor said, shimmering into existence next to Liz. “Let’s do what we came to, and get the hell out of here.”
73
Set Arrives
Jordan smiled grimly inside his armor as he stood at rigid attention behind Set. His armor was damaged in so many places now that the entire paper doll in his HUD was lit with red. He was still a prisoner, but if the armor were destroyed he’d be free. All he had to do was watch for an opportunity, and he could probably hasten that destruction.
“Stop your groveling and gather to me,” Set growled at Steve, stepping atop the smoking remains of Object 3. “I will show you the kind of power the other gods only dream of.”
The rest of them moved to the platform, though Steve was the first to reach it. Typical. To Jordan’s immense surprise, a faint white light came from the platform. Apparently it was at least partially functional. The light flared, then washed over the five of them.
There was something like a clap of thunder, then he was elsewhere. His ears were ringing, and his head felt like he’d spent the last six hours drinking shots of Jäger. Or something even fouler.
Irakesh and Steve looked just as bad, maybe worse. It was hard to tell with Wepwawet, as he was enshrouded in armor just like Jordan. Only Set seemed unaffected. His lip curled up in a snarl, as he stared at the battle unfolding before them.
They’d arrived at Stonehenge, near the center of the giant stones. In the distance lay a sea of black, twisted bodies—Jordan guessed they were probably the remains of the defense force Set had no doubt left to prevent his enemies from gaining entrance to the Ark. In the distance, four figures battled. Jordan recognized Isis, who towered over a figure in ebony armor.
“Steve, take this motley lot to the central chamber. Ensure that no one reaches the heart of this Ark. Do this, and I will reward you greatly. Fail, and I will give you to my wife as a plaything,” Set growled, not even turning to see if his order was heard.
Set began to grow, gaining height as he knocked stones out of his path that had stood for millennia. His footsteps thundered on the turf as he began a loping run towards Isis, Osiris, and Ra, who were ganging up on Nephthys. It looked like she was getting the worst of i
t, too. Good on them
“You heard him,” Steve snapped. He waved toward the Ark. “Move, if you wish to live.”
Jordan’s armor started forward of its own accord. He considered resisting it, but this wasn’t the place to make a stand. That should happen when and where he could make a difference.
74
Intercepted
Isis’s wolfish ear twitched, angling toward a new sound—a savage yell of unparalleled ferocity. She half turned to face the sound, careful not to release her hold on Nephthys. The goddess wasn’t thrashing much now, but Isis wasn’t taking any chances. She’d hold her until Osiris finished siphoning her essence.
A figure was sprinting toward them with impossible speed, the type of blur that could only be sustained by the eldest of gods. It would make it here before Osiris could finish his work, and she could see enough of the figure to realize the ebony armor belonged to Set. Their distraction back in London hadn’t bought them nearly as much time as they’d hoped.
“Sekhmet,” Isis growled, meeting her friend’s gaze. “Hold Nephthys. I will deal with Set until she is no more.”
Sekhmet nodded, and Isis released the black goddess. She slipped into the shadows, interposing herself between Set and Osiris. She began her blur, considering as she did so. Was Set using illusion? He could be approaching from an entirely different direction. She studied the grass in his wake, noting both mist and dew evaporated in his passing. It was possible that was illusion. Set possessed enough strength to create one of that size and detail, certainly.
Yet she didn’t think so. Set had been a cautious god in his youth, but age had fueled his overconfidence. He was all too willing to engage his foes if he thought he had the advantage, which he very likely had here. Then there was his very real concern for his wife. Set was an evil, tainted bastard. Yet his affection for Nephthys had always been consistent. If he had anything approaching a weakness, that was it.
Isis braced herself, praying she was right. She blurred as fast as she ever had, pouncing upon Set as he passed her. She wrapped a thick arm around his neck, using her momentum to arrest his. Then she flung him hard to the muddy earth, creating a deep crater with him at the bottom.
She stilled her elation at having been right. It was Set and not an illusion, but now she had to deal with him. Alone, at least until her allies finished Nephthys. Set wouldn’t respond to taunts or threats, not while he was concerned with his wife. The only way to stop him was overwhelming force.
Isis leapt into the crater, seizing Set’s arm and attempting to rip it from its socket. Set merely tensed, and she couldn’t move that arm even an inch, no matter how she strained. Set’s black eyes glared at her from beneath his twisted helm, and he struck back in a fury.
His fist punched through her gut, exploding her innards and spine into the grass behind her. His other hand seized her neck, dragging her face close to his. “It ends tonight, Isis. There is no escape this time, no bringing Osiris back from the dead. I will kill you all, and consume your memories. Before you die, know this, little sister. If you’d not meddled, not created the virus, we’d all of us be dead. This world would be free. Because of your actions, I exist, and every crime I perpetrate can be laid at your feet.”
Isis knew despair then, because Set was right. Had she left well enough alone, had she never entered the Valley of Forgotten Voices, they’d have died as humans. That moment of weakness had created a chain of events that led here, and she had only herself to blame. Yet she wasn’t dead yet.
“So overconfident,” Isis choked out. She blurred, willing her body to shift as she did so. Faster than thought, she became a tiny fox, dropping from Set’s grip and rolling back into the shadows. A heartbeat later she’d gone back to wolf form, bounding out of the crater. A third shift brought her back to werewolf form, even as she spun to face Set.
The black god had leapt to his feet, spinning in place as he sought some sign of her. He gave a roar, raising both arms to the sky. A pulse of black and green energy rolled out from him, a mixture she’d never seen before. It burst in all directions, and she was caught in the blast.
The energy was pure pain, but that she could deal with. What filled her with terror was the energy’s residual aura. It clung to her like paint, exposing her in a way no ability ever had. Set had found a way to reveal her in the shadows, a way even more potent than that Blair had discovered.
Set leapt from the pit, stalking in her direction. Isis turned and ran for the Ark, knowing she’d never reach it.
75
The Repository
Blair took his first step into the repository. Words were insufficient to describe what he was witnessing, the majesty and complexity exhibited by the Builders. This stadium-sized room was the pinnacle of an entire civilization—the outgrowth of, he presumed, millions of years of technological advancement.
“Wow, look at the size of the crystal in the center,” Trevor said, walking past Blair to lean on a railing that lined a walkway ringing the entire chamber. “What do you think it’s made out of? It’s too light to be a sapphire.”
Liz walked past Blair as well, stopping at the railing next to Trevor. “I’d guess it’s a diamond from the clarity, but I don’t really know a lot about gemstones.”
Blair finally moved to join them, still struggling to find words. The smooth walls below the railing sloped down to a platform holding the single largest gemstone Blair had ever seen. It had to be at least a hundred feet tall, and could have been two or three times that, depending on how large the room really was. It was difficult to say without anything to give it perspective.
“It’s an aquamarine,” Blair said, absently. The walls leading to the stone were bare, but those leading to the ceiling were covered in gemstones that matched the one below.
“Hey, Blair, I’m guessing that thing is important,” Trevor said, drawing Blair’s attention. He was pointing at a spot along the wall a couple hundred yards away. The railing was broken by a wide platform, with a roughly person-sized blue aquamarine in the center.
“That’s the control locus Isis told me about,” Blair said, trotting along the railing. He needed to focus. This place was amazing, but he didn’t have time to study it. That killed him, as he knew he was witnessing the very thing he’d sought his entire life.
He’d always wanted to know the origins of mankind, and many of those answers lay in this room. Yet if he was successful, in the next few minutes he’d be blowing it up, denying the world of all the precious secrets it contained.
“Better speed this up,” Liz called, darting a nervous glance back the way they’d come. Her wolfish ears twitched. “I hear something behind us. I’m guessing whatever it is, it isn’t friendly.”
Blair blurred down the walkway, crossing the gap to the control locus in a couple seconds. He skidded to a halt next to the platform, stepping onto it as he examined the crystal. There was a sort of socket at the base, one that looked about the right size and shape for the base of the Primary Access Key.
Behold, Ka-Dun. This is the very place where the Mother brought our species into being, the place where she first crafted the virus that gave birth to the deathless. It is here that she became more than a simple woman, adopting the first Ka to become the first Ka-Ken.
Blair extended his hand, summoning the key. He reverently placed the base in the socket with a satisfying click. There was a thrum of energy in the staff, which flowed down into the man-sized aquamarine. The gem began to pulse with light, and the giant counterpart in the center pulsed in time.
He sensed a vast array of data, some of it incomprehensible, but much of it readily identifiable. In that instant Blair understood why this place was called an Ark, and why this room was called the repository. It was a genetic repository, and he was seeing every species this place had ever catalogued. Their DNA was stored here, to be drawn upon by a shaper like him. He could create entirely new life forms, or return ones that had been long extinct to the world.
Yet that was only the surface of what this room could be used for. It tapped into every system in the Ark, and the enormous power reservoir driving the place lay directly under the giant aquamarine.
“Blair!” He heard Liz’s frantic voice as if across a vast gulf. “We’ve got company. Whatever you’re going to do, you need to do it now.”
Blair looked up from the staff, glancing at the entrance to the room. Several figures had burst in, and were charging along the railing in their direction. Several familiar figures. Jordan and Wepwawet were in the lead, then Irakesh, with Steve predictably bringing up the rear.
“There’s no way I can finish before they get here,” Blair said, shifting as he spoke. “We’re going to have to deal with them first, then I can set this place to self-destruct.”
“Guess it’s a fight then,” Trevor said, slipping into the shadows. “I’ll deal with Irakesh. Liz, see if you can keep the armor out of the fight while Blair deals with Steve.”
Blair gave a grim smile, removing the key and aiming it at the walkway. He summoned the same energy he’d used back on Object 3, firing a trio of blue pulses at the lead armored figure. As expected, the armor dodged out of the way—but, also as expected, that left an opening for Liz.
A nine-foot auburn werewolf burst from the shadows, seizing the first suit of ebony armor by one leg and flinging it over the side into the valley below. The second set drew a bead on her, but by the time a pair of missiles corkscrewed from the shoulder launcher she’d already disappeared. They detonated harmlessly against the wall, cracking several of the aquamarines and extinguishing their light.
