by Chris Fox
8
Emotional Baggage
Jordan’s shoulder blades itched from all the eyes as he strode up the thick red carpet now leading into the central chamber. These people had been busy. Tapestries showing fanciful but not very accurate depictions of Isis dotted the walls, covering the golden glyphs Jordan remembered. He blinked, realizing that wasn’t the only thing they’d covered.
During the battle to wake the Mother, Jordan had been on the wrong side. He’d tried to stop Blair, and the resulting battle had done catastrophic damage to this room. The tapestries covered the walls where the worst of that damage lay, and he could still see a few pockmarks in the stone, probably from stray rounds.
“This way. please,” Leti said. She rested a gentle hand on Jordan’s arm, guiding him to the steps of a small dais that had been erected next to the central obelisk.
Priests and priestesses had gathered in a semi-circle facing the dais, though every head was turned to study him as he made his way through their ranks. He read a mixture of curiosity, fear, and outright hostility. So many emotions, and he had no idea what he’d done to cause them—other than existing, and having the key to this place.
“Brothers and sisters, I’d like to introduce Ark Lord Jordan. He bears a sacred connection to this place,” Leti explained. She paused, her large eyes scanning her companions. Most seemed to respect her, though not all. A few gave her the same hostile look they’d hurled in his direction. Leti squared her shoulders, speaking again. “Eldest sister Elia attacked the Ark Lord, and he used his powers to place her into the cells on the lower levels. He asked me to gather you all here to discuss his arrival, and what it means for us going forward.”
Leti gave him a weak smile, then stepped off the dais. She moved to stand with the others, watching him expectantly. Jordan looked around at the assembled faces, considering his words carefully. He wasn’t an orator. He was a soldier. There was no point in pretending to be what he wasn’t, so he’d be what he was, without apology.
“The Ark is of enormous strategic value in the war Isis began. It will be necessary to humanity’s survival on this continent, and I was entrusted with the access key by the Mother herself,” Jordan began. It wasn’t strictly true. The Mother hadn’t given him the key—he’d taken it from Steve’s corpse—but she’d certainly prefer him having it over that smug, arrogant fuck. “It’s my job to find every champion on the continent, and weld us together into a cohesive fighting force. To do that I’m going to need a lot of help, help some of you may be able to provide. Since I realize that you may find working with me difficult, I’d like to clear the air. Why don’t we start with your questions, and then we’ll get to mine.”
Several priests shifted uncomfortably, adjusting robes or clutching something very much like prayer beads. One man finally stepped forward. Mid-forties, salt-and-pepper hair. Average height, with the well muscled physique common to every werewolf.
“I am called Adam. My title in this temple is eldest brother. We are led by eldest sister Elia, yet you’ve usurped this place and locked her away. Why? What could you possibly hope to gain? Please, if you wish our cooperation, free her immediately.” The man’s words were impassioned. Jordan had seen zealots before, but this guy had definitely drunk a double helping of the Kool-Aid.
“Sure,” Jordan said. He concentrated, linking with the Ark again.
Far below, the light bridge activated, and a very irate Elia appeared near her companions in a flash of brilliance. She lurched, barely catching herself before finding her balance.
“Here’s your eldest sister,” Jordan said. “As for what I hoped to gain in imprisoning her, your sister tried to tear out my throat. I don’t enjoy being attacked, especially without provocation.”
“I had provocation,” Elia snapped. Her eyes blazed, and Jordan felt her bracelet activate. Energy infused her words. He didn’t understand what the thing did, but he could feel it affecting him. The shaping affected the entire room, faces going slack as they listened to Elia. “You profaned this most holy place. You invaded it, claiming that the Mother is dead. Your heresy is unwelcome, invader. Leave this place, or we will resist you.”
“And here I was having a nice day for once,” Jordan said, heaving a sigh. Elia clearly had no grasp of what an Ark Lord could do. He doubted any of them did. “Listen. I don’t want to pick a fight, but if you attack me again I will put every last one of your furry asses in a cell.”
“You cannot defeat all of us,” Adam roared, shifting into warform. His clothes shredded, tattered white robes still clinging to his grey fur.
Jordan laughed. He couldn’t help it. The idea that these people were going to try to stop him, when they hadn’t even mastered shifting with their clothing…he just had to let it out.
“You think this is funny?” Elia’s words were the opposite of Adam’s, soft as death. “You mock us in the heart of our most holy place. There is only one recourse. Brothers and sisters, slay this man.”
Jordan willed bonds around every assembled werewolf, hoisting dozens of Ka-Ken and Ka-Dun into the air with no more effort than it had taken with just a handful of them. It was frighteningly easy.
“Yeah, I guess laughing was pretty rude. Picking you up without asking is rude, too, and I’m sorry for needing to restrain all of you,” Jordan began again, moderating his tone. “Let me make the situation clear for all of you. Five years ago, the Mother battled Set. Do you know who Set is?”
“The ancient texts speak of Set and his treachery,” Adam allowed, cautiously. “You say that you fought at her side? A simple mindshare can verify that.”
“Great. We’ll do a mindshare. Here, have some emotional baggage.” Jordan wasn’t nearly so skilled at this as Blair, but what he lacked in finesse he made up for in brute force. He pushed his memories to every person in the room.
He remembered the days leading up to the detonation of the First Ark. He remembered being imprisoned in the demonic power armor. He remembered fighting Set, and watching allies die. He remembered the Director’s final stand.
Jordan blasted those memories at the assembled priests in a firehose of information. Shocked gasps and cries filled the room. The transfer lasted for several moments, and when it was over Jordan released Adam’s bonds. The werewolf toppled to his knees, catching himself against the stone. He rose shakily, licking his chops as he stared at Jordan.
“Satisfied?” Jordan asked.
“Clearly Ark Lord Jordan speaks the truth, or the truth as he knows it at least. He did fight alongside the Mother, and what’s more, he is her direct progeny,” Adam said. His words had a profound effect on those around them. They began whispering, and their faces shifted from anger to awed reverence. “Please, Lord. Release us, and we will offer you no resistance.”
“Do not presume to speak for the order, little brother,” Elia snapped, glaring hard at Adam. “I am the eldest, and this place is my responsibility. I will not turn it over to this monster, especially not when he claims the Mother is dead.”
“You saw his memories, Elia. It is the truth as he knows it,” Adam replied. He was calm, and clearly unafraid of Elia. Whatever her bracelet did didn’t seem to affect him. “Jordan did not see the Mother die, but she and her consort were placed in mortal peril against a superior foe. Jordan sees no way in which she could have survived, but then he appears to have no real knowledge of her true abilities. There is no sin in ignorance, Elia. He cannot be faulted for it.”
“He imprisoned me.” Elia’s tone was as hard as ever, but her expression showed that she knew Adam had scored a blow. The others were nodding thoughtfully. “Even now we are held against our will. Are you willing to let this brute assume control of the most holiest of places, without a fight?”
“Is that a fight you believe you can win?” Adam asked, raising an eyebrow. “He bested us easily. Effortlessly. He can do this, because he spoke the truth. Jordan is an Ark Lord. He has the key to this place, the key created by the Mother. I am not su
ggesting we roll over like pups, but I am saying we must proceed carefully. Jordan should be offered respect and understanding, especially if he is willing to continue mindsharing. There is much we can teach him, and much in turn that we can learn.”
“I put it to a vote, then,” Elia retorted. The bracelet pulsed again, infusing her words with…something. “Will we cast this mongrel out, or accept his dominion over the most holiest of places? Choose carefully, brothers and sisters. Our faith is being sorely tested.”
Faces hardened around the room.
“Wait.” Jordan raised a hand to forestall Elia, lowering everyone to the ground. “There’s no need for a vote. I need intel more than anything, and that means venturing out into the world. Leti mentioned New Peru, and that an old friend of mine is the president. I’ll leave, for now. Leti can take me to meet with Dr. Roberts. After I have some answers, I’ll return. When I do, we can have a more formal discussion about the fate of this place. Are those terms acceptable?”
“Definitely,” Adam said, nodding. “We appreciate the courtesy. This matter will be discussed at length, and when you return we can sort out this…misunderstanding. Elia, I assume you have no objections?”
“None.” Elia’s eyes burned into Jordan.
He had a feeling she was going to make a bad enemy.
9
Arrival
The very instant Trevor was conscious of his surroundings, he flowed into the shadows. Beside him, Irakesh did the same. He spent several long moments looking for threats; there were none, but what he saw was disturbing enough to keep his guard up.
The walls were tainted, covered in a chitinous black substance. The substance was unfamiliar, but it reminded him somehow of Set. It smelled faintly of decay.
“What do you make of it?” Trevor whispered.
“I’ve never seen the like,” Irakesh admitted. The shadows around the deathless dissolved, and he crouched next to the wall near the doorway leading from the room. “It’s demonic, without a doubt. But it isn’t any form I’ve seen. It isn’t Set’s work, either. I don’t know who, or what, created this.”
“When you say it’s demonic…can the creator sense us?” Trevor asked. Arks allowed their owners to extend their perceptions, as he understood it. Maybe this stuff could do the same.
“I doubt it,” Irakesh allowed.
Trevor noted the brief hesitation. “I’ll try tapping into the Ark and see what I can learn.”
“Wait!” Irakesh spun, rushing toward him. “Do nothing. Not yet. Interfacing with the Ark will use power, and this stuff might allow whoever put it here to track that usage.”
“If that’s the case, they already know we’re here,” Trevor countered. “They knew the instant the light bridge activated.” He closed his eyes and reached out to the Ark.
Something massive responded. Trevor gained a bewildering array of new senses, but during his time in the IT world Trevor had been forced to learn new things all the time. This was just another unfamiliar operating system. All he had to do was figure out navigation, and he could tap into whatever the Ark was capable of.
Trevor thought about power reserves, and a response came immediately.
“We’re at point-zero-two-percent power reserves. That amount is dropping, and at the current rate this place will go dark in about six more months.” Even as Trevor spoke, he was looking for more data. He willed the Ark to show him the area outside the Ark. “Holy crap. There are three pyramids hovering above the Ark. They aren’t Ark sized, but they’re bigger than a 747. There’s also a small city floating above the pyramids, and it looks like the pyramids are feeding it power somehow. It’s Olympus, though I’ve got no idea how Hades moved the city.”
“What about the Ark itself? Are we alone?” Irakesh asked, his voice rising a quarter octave. He began pacing.
“Checking,” Trevor said. He thought about internal diagnostics, and knowledge flowed into his mind. “Most internal sensors are disabled. Whatever this goop is, it looks like it’s the stuff draining the power.”
“So we’re on our own then. Lovely. Simply lovely. What do you propose we do, Ark Lord?”
Trevor ignored the sardonic tone. He wasn’t surprised that Irakesh’s composure was slipping, but he couldn’t afford to allow the same to happen to him.
“We have no idea who or what we’re dealing with,” he said. “Our first goal is to get more information about whoever’s hijacked the Ark. That means manual recon, so stealth up and follow me.” He flowed into the shadows again, moving through the door and up the corridor beyond.
“Do not be so hasty,” Irakesh hissed from the shadows in the doorway. “We can still retreat. Let us use the light bridge and go back to the Nexus.”
“I told you, this place is bone dry. There’s no way we can activate the light bridge. We’re stuck here. Handle your shit, Irakesh. You said you wanted to live, right?” Trevor didn’t wait for an answer. He continued up the corridor, straining to detect any threats.
As they approached the central chamber, he detected a warbling thrum passing through the walls. It was slightly off, more of a tremble than the humming purr he’d have expected. The Ark definitely wasn’t doing well.
They emerged into a T-intersection, the last before making the final ascent into the central chamber. Trevor froze.
A rhythmic clicking came from the corridor to the right. He knew Irakesh had enough survival instinct to stay hidden, so he waited. He was thankful he didn’t need to hold his breath, and that he didn’t have a heartbeat to give him away.
Three demons walked up the passageway—two men and a woman. They reminded him of Set, but had bat wings and long tails. All three demons were roughly the same size, and Trevor could sense their ability to shape.
The trio turned and headed up the corridor leading back to the light bridge. One paused briefly, looking suspiciously in Trevor’s direction. One of his companions called out in a language Trevor didn’t recognize, and the demon hurried to rejoin the others. All three continued up the corridor and out of sight.
“Those were corrupted deathless,” Irakesh whispered from somewhere nearby. “I’ve seen their kind before. Given that you saw Olympus above, I’d lay odds we both know who is doing the corrupting.”
“Maybe, but we can investigate that later. We need to keep moving. You lived here for centuries, right? What’s the fastest way to get out? Is there a back route we can take? I have a feeling we’re going to meet heavy resistance if we try to walk out the front door.” Trevor was already moving again, trusting that Irakesh would follow.
“So far as I know, an Ark only has one entrance, other than the light bridge,” Irakesh’s disembodied voice mused. “Still, the Arks possess many secrets. My mother had millennia to learn this one. I am trying to recall if she ever let one slip that could save our lives.”
“Yeah, well, do it quickly.” Trevor stopped. There was no point in going further until they had a destination.
“Mother used to disappear sometimes. She’d do it on the lowest level, near the heart of the Ark. I tried to follow her many times, but the furthest I ever made it was a door two levels above the heart. I don’t know what was on the other side, but I do know that no one else in the Ark was ever allowed inside. Mother engaged the full protections of this place, and more than one foolish lord met his end trying to delve into her secrets.”
“Sounds important enough to warrant a look,” Trevor said. “Lead the way.” He shimmered into view; a moment later, Irakesh did the same.
“Of course, Ark Lord.” Irakesh gave a half bow. They headed up the corridor, moving quietly as death.
Trevor might not like Irakesh, but even he had to admit that his former master made a strong ally. He was both cunning and deadly, and his knowledge of the old world had proven invaluable.
Irakesh began to blur, so Trevor did the same. They zipped up corridor after corridor, making their way steadily closer to the heart of the Ark. The chitinous ichor along the walls n
ever let up, coating everything they passed—until they arrived at a bare door, the only uncovered stone they’d run across.
“I’m guessing that’s it?” Trevor asked, running his hand along the stone. It was warm to the touch.
“It is. I’ve never seen beyond this point, but the fact that this vile stuff doesn’t cover it suggests it might be useful.”
“Agreed. Stand back, just in case.” Trevor raised a hand, and thought about the door opening. A moment later something pulsed—a bit of energy from the dwindling supply. The stone moved silently up from the floor, sliding into the ceiling until the doorway stood open.
Trevor didn’t wait, plunging through and gesturing for Irakesh to do the same. The stone slammed down behind Irakesh. Trevor willed it to lock, and felt power move through the Ark once more. Whatever he’d done had sealed the room again, so—in theory—they were safe on this side.
It was time to find out what they’d walked into.
10
Hades
Hades savored a spoonful of soup, a rich beef broth prepared by his cook. In life, the man had been a famous chef, beloved the world over. That was before Hades had corrupted him, using the demonic taint to eradicate both will and personality. He’d left only the qualities he found of use, which didn’t include the ability to speak or think.
Hades waved his hand, and the cook scurried away; now he could enjoy his lunch in peace. It was something he strived to do daily, a ritual that afforded him time to think—in this instance, about circumstances in South America.
A great deal depended on Nox’s ability to find the Proto-Ark, and Hades wasn’t certain that Nox’s plan to subvert this Camiero was entirely workable. Yet Nox had never failed; as much as Hades detested his underling, he had little choice but to trust his abilities.
