Chimera The Complete Duet

by Joseph Robert Lewis

  “Horus?”

  Like any other bodily wound, the pain and disorientation in his head cleared quickly and he turned around to face the hill again. A scaled fist struck him in the stomach and sent him flying up and back through the warm night air, and he crashed down on his back into a thick bed of soft green grass with a hard grunt.

  Apart. I need to pull apart, into the aether…

  Thick, muscular talons wrapped around his face and lifted him off the ground by his head. He grabbed at the scaled claws, but they were as immovable as iron, tightening and crushing his skull even as his skull continued to heal itself in defiance.

  Apart…

  An instinctual part of his mind wanted to grab his staff and strike it on the ground, to complete the little ritual that he now associated with his transition into the world of mists. But deprived of his staff, deprived even of contact with the ground itself, his concentration stumbled. He couldn’t quite focus on the act of dissolving his body without the gesture, without the feeling in his arm, without the sound of the staff thumping on the dirt or cracking on the stone.

  Apart…

  The pressure on his head suddenly vanished. All sensations vanished as he faded into the mist and sank down and away from his brother’s scaled hand. Bright red drops of blood glistened on Horus’s talons in the starlight.

  Anubis let the aether carry him away from the beast and he stepped back out into the moonlight a few dozen paces away, where he knelt and retrieved his staff. He straightened up again and said, “Horus, can you still understand me?”

  The great falcon head swiveled to look at him, and nodded, and hissed.

  “Do you understand what I’ve said? Do you understand why I hate you?”

  Again Horus nodded, and began stalking slowly forward.

  “So tell me now, knowing what I’ve just told you, brother, do you regret the past? Our past, our childhood?” Anubis asked.

  Horus paused, his long lean frame hunching forward, his bloody talons curled and ready at his sides. The creature shook its head from side to side, and shrieked.

  Anubis clenched his staff and glared. “How dare you! You prideful, selfish, worthless filth!”

  Horus charged up the grassy slope and lunged at the black skinned youth with both hands. Anubis raised his staff to strike the earth, but a rough-skinned talon wrapped around his fingers, crushing his hand against the hardwood stick in his grip. The youth cried out, gasping, his eyes fixed on his hand buried in the dark scaly fist. And he was still staring when a second fist struck him in the head.

  Anubis fell back and would have fallen to the ground if Horus had not kept his iron grip on his hand, holding him up, dangling him by his arm and his staff. The world flashed and sparkled for a moment and Anubis blinked hard as he hung there, helpless and trapped.

  Fast… he’s so fast…

  He tightened his grip on the staff still clenched in his hand, and felt Horus’s talons crush inward sharply, and he felt his fingers breaking one by one. Anubis gasped and fell to his knees.

  He said, “Look how far you’ve fallen, brother. Once the mighty warrior, the beloved prince of all Aegyptus, now nothing more than a rabid animal serving a filthy harlot who AAAAGH!”

  Anubis screamed as Horus lifted him up high into the air by his hand, wrenching Anubis’s arm to the side, dislocating his shoulder, and leaving him to dangle again, this time with his feet off the ground and his face hanging just in front of the falcon’s cruel beak.

  The falcon shook his head.

  “No?” Anubis whispered, struggling to breathe through the pain in his shoulder and the pressure stretching out his ribs and lungs as he swung from his useless arm. “What do you mean, no? No, you aren’t a hideous monster? No, you don’t serve Lilith?”

  Again, the falcon shook his head.

  “Of course you serve her, you idiot,” Anubis spat through his clenched teeth. “You live in her house, you bring innocent victims to her for her depraved experiments, and this very night you were terrorizing an entire neighborhood of helpless families in your desperation to return to her side.”

  Horus nodded once.

  “You know this is true? You know you’re her slave? Then why were you shaking your head?”

  Horus pointed at himself.

  “You?”

  Horus pointed at the ground.

  “Here?” Anubis frowned, trying to think through the pain in his arm and chest. And then the monster’s meaning became clear. “You mean to say that here and now, in this moment, you’re not her slave? You’re fighting me because you wish to?”

  Horus nodded, and then screamed in the youth’s face.

  Anubis winced, and then opened his eyes again. “I understand. Thank you.” He wrenched himself apart into the mist again, slipping free of the talons and the pain, and he drifted away across the grass to appear whole and healed a short distance away. “You want to hurt me, Horus? Then come here and hurt me.” He reached up and pulled his black jackal mask down over his face and let the drifting aether distort his appearance, blurring the line between flesh and wood, between man and beast.

  I am Anubis. I am Death.

  Horus screamed and raced toward him with talons raised.

  Anubis met the assault head-on, lashing out with his ironwood staff, striking high and low, smashing the falcon across the face and into the gut. The God of Death became a whirling black cyclone of fists and bludgeons, pounding and beating on the monstrous head of his half-brother again and again. Within moments, his arms began to tire, but he pressed through the aching pain as his hands cracked and tore and broke from striking the thick falcon skull and the powerful falcon beak. And yet he fought on.

  Horus reeled back, and tried to raise his talons to shield his head, but the blows fell fast and faster, and if he blocked high the strikes would come low, and soon the falcon was gasping for breath, clutching his bruised ribs and bleeding face.

  Anubis felt the rage seething through his pulsing hands and aching arms.

  This is our destiny. My revenge. His punishment. My justice. The universe has finally come into balance, and I shall be elevated as he is laid low.

  Anubis swept the falcon’s legs out from under him, dropping him to the earth, and he planted the butt of his staff in the hollow of Horus’s throat, making him croak and gasp.

  “If we were mortal creatures, I would kill you,” Anubis said. “And then perhaps I would kill myself just to end all the pain, and to silence all the memories. But such dramas are beneath us. You will suffer until I decide you have suffered enough, until I no longer care to see you suffer, and then it will end. Take solace in that. It is more hope than I ever had as a child. I lived every day with the question, will today be the day he kills me? So you see, I am kinder than fate itself. I promise you that your torments will end. When I have judged them to be enough.”

  Anubis lifted his staff away and stepped back. Horus rose slowly to his feet, staggering up as he clutched his throat.

  “Tonight, my task was to find you and restrain you until you could be cured. Restored. Set free.” Anubis nodded to himself. “All that will be yours, and soon. But for now, you shall know pain, until your heart is as heavy and as weary as mine.”

  And to hell with the rest of the world.

  Chapter 18

  Skywalkers

  Bastet flitted from street to street, from roof to roof, flying gracefully and effortlessly through the warm night’s aether in search of the sounds of violence.

  Where can they be? Nethys, Horus, where are you?

  She paused on the top of a brick chimney at the end of a new house, a long white estate built in the Italian style with many ornate arches and colored windows and covered walkways. There were two chimneys, one at each end of the main house, and Bastet wondered idly whether the people inside ever felt the need to build a fire in their hearths to keep warm, here on the Ifrican coast.

  There was no sign of the beastly immortals. No cries of fear or panic
, no crash of breaking windows, no wails of frightened animals. All was quiet.

  Bastet stood still, feeling the warm breeze flowing through her skirts and hair as she scanned the heavens, naming constellations and searching for bright planets. She was staring up toward the west when she noticed a star she didn’t recognize. After four thousand years of stargazing, she had come to know them all quite well, and the sight of a bright white gleam without a name startled her, making her wonder if she was even looking to the west at all.

  And then she saw the star move.

  Squinting and frowning, she watched the star slowly creep across the sky, moving ever so slightly from north to south.

  Is it… growing larger?

  She went on watching the strange little star until she realized that she was hearing a strange little sound as well. It was a soft buzzing or droning, like an insect, or a wagon rolling through the street, or a steamship idling at anchor.

  An engine?

  Her eyes went wide.

  Taziri!

  Bastet clapped her hands and smiled up at the drifting star, watching it grow slowly larger and louder high above the western plains outside Alexandria.

  I can’t believe I almost forgot about her.

  Bastet skipped across the rooftops, drifting lightly through the aether on her way toward the western end of the city where the railways entered the metropolis from the provinces of Marmarica and Cyrenica, and farther still from Numidia and Marrakesh itself. She headed south toward the small rail yard where she had first met Taziri, huddled alone inside her machine, roasting in the Aegyptian heat. But then she paused.

  There’s no reason to think she’ll use the same line again. I’ll have to watch and wait, and follow her.

  As the moments passed, the light of the Halcyon III grew larger and sharper, and the droning of its engine grew louder. A faint outline appeared against the thin, silvery clouds and Bastet thought she recognized the round body and long wings of the aircraft, a dark wraith speeding across the night sky.

  I wonder what her magnet machine will look like. I hope it doesn’t hurt Isis and the others too much when it removes the sun-steel needles.

  The Halcyon banked and began a graceful descent toward the city. Faint streamers of smoke and vapor trailed from the metal wings.

  As Bastet stood on the roof of an old Mazdan Temple prayer tower, she felt a blast of wind shove her against the dusty tiles and she nearly fell from her perch as she grabbed the small iron spire at the top of the tower. Turning her head, she saw a huge black shape race past her, flapping its great gray wings as it climbed higher and higher into the sky, racing up toward the Mazigh aeroplane.

  Nethys! No, not now!

  Bastet ran off the edge of the roof and burst apart into a shimmering white aether mist and slipped upward into the sky as fast as she could will herself. The aether was thin up here and there was no current to speak of, so she had to propel herself by desire and thought alone. Faster and faster, she soared up into the warm darkness, flitting past the winged woman, and pushing harder and harder until she slipped through the metal walls of the flying machine and let her body snap back together again.

  Her momentum carried her across the cabin and she slammed shoulder-first into the far wall and crumpled to the floor.

  “What the…?” Taziri’s voice was faint over the hideous growling of the engine.

  “Turn!” Bastet wheezed. She straightened up as she struggled to catch her breath and blink away the pain in her side. “Turn left, now!”

  “Bastet?” The Mazigh pilot twisted around in her seat to look behind her.

  “TURN LEFT!” Bastet lunged forward against the pilot’s seat.

  “Turning!” Taziri shoved a lever and the entire cabin leaned to the left.

  Bastet felt herself floating off the floor for a brief, weightless moment before she fell to the floor again with a grunt.

  “Aah! What was that?” Taziri shouted. “I saw something out there! Bastet? Bastet?”

  The Aegyptian girl pushed herself up again and this time she wrapped both hands into the little canvas straps bolted into the walls to hold herself in place. “It’s Nethys. My aunt.”

  “Your aunt can fly?”

  “At the moment, yes.” Bastet squinted through the small windows in front of the pilot, but all she saw was darkness.

  “What is she doing out there?”

  “Probably trying to kill you. Where is she now?”

  “I can’t see her,” Taziri said. “Look out the back windows.”

  Bastet loosened her grip on the straps and worked her way back to the passenger seats where there were three small, round windows looking out to either side of the plane over the wings. She checked both sides. “I can’t see her.”

  “Maybe Halcyon’s too fast for her,” Taziri shouted over the engine.

  “Maybe,” Bastet shouted back. She looked out the little round window one last time and saw a woman’s face wreathed in pale feathers. “Maybe not. She’s on the wing!”

  “Hang on!” Taziri pulled her levers again and the Halcyon rolled and dived down toward the dark earth below them.

  Bastet found herself hanging from the straps on the walls as the aeroplane tilted sharply downward, and the feathery face at the window vanished. “She’s gone!”

  A metallic clangor erupted above them, and Bastet saw a small dent pop down into the cabin from the roof. “She’s back!”

  “Strap into that seat and hold on,” Taziri said.

  Bastet pulled the seat harness on and shouted, “Ready!”

  Taziri pulled on her levers and the Halcyon ran wild. The aeroplane darted down to race through the narrow stone corridors of the streets between the ancient towers, temples, and obelisks raised by kings long dead and long forgotten. Bastet clung to the straps above her head as the craft twisted upon its side and screamed through the dark avenues with one wing pointed at the moon and one wing pointed at the earth so low that if any people had been out at that hour the wing would have knocked the hats and scarves from their heads.

  Bastet looked up through the little windows on the far side of the cabin and saw the stars shining down on her as the edges and corners of Alexandria blurred past the frame of the glass. And then Nethys landed on the fuselage with a thump, blacking out those little windows with her tattered dress and long raggedy wings, her feathers tearing off one by one in the ripping wind.

  “She’s here!” Bastet yelled.

  Taziri muttered something under her breath and suddenly the Halcyon lurched and shuddered, and Bastet felt herself being crushed down into her seat as the aeroplane banked sharply, still flying sideways through the streets, but now turning with tremendous, steel-screaming power, curling around one of the grand market squares between the high domes of the West Temple and the white towers of the Imperial Gardens.

  Bastet squinted upward as the blood rushed down to her feet and she slumped lower and lower in the hard seat, choked by her safety harness, and she saw Nethys slide back down the length of the plane from one window to the next with a terrible metallic squeal, and then she was gone.

  Taziri rolled the plane back upright and straightened out as she climbed back up above the roofs and towers and the Halcyon’s engine puttered a bit more softly.

  “That did it,” the pilot said. “I saw her fly off, tumbling northward, I think.”

  “She might come back again,” Bastet said breathlessly as her heart continued pounding in her chest. The pain faded almost instantly, but the fear and excitement of the chase had left her blood boiling with adrenaline.

  “I don’t think so,” Taziri said calmly. “I saw her crash into a wall, and fall to the street.”

  “You don’t understand. She’s immortal, like me. She’ll only be hurt for a moment, and then she’ll be back in the sky again. Even if you broke every bone in her body, it would only be a matter of minutes before she could fly again.”

  “Then we’ll just have to make certain that we’
re not here when she wakes up.” Taziri throttled back the engine a bit more and began flicking switches.

  “What are you doing?” Bastet exhaled and felt her skin finally cooling, though she still didn’t dare to leave her seat and its harness.

  “Landing.”

  Bastet craned her neck and saw the ground coming up to meet them, and the soft roar of the air around the Halcyon’s wings began to grow louder. A train raced by the windows.

  “Where are we?” the girl asked.

  “Coming up on the northern rail station. Looks pretty quiet at the moment, so I think we’ll have a little privacy.”

  Bastet realized that the train she had seen race by had been standing still and it was they who were still traveling at that unbelievable speed. The roar of the wings grew louder by degrees and as Taziri continued to pull levers and flick switches, the Halcyon clanged and hissed and creaked. Pistons contracted, springs expanded, and wires spooled up as the aeroplane’s landing guide reached down and latched onto one of the railroad lines and pulled the aircraft down with a bang and clatter.

  The pilot swiftly retracted the wings, and Bastet watched as the steel panels folded up, covering the windows as they formed the very familiar shape of a proper locomotive around the aeroplane’s fuselage. To anyone who looked at the Halcyon now, it would appear to be any other train engine chuffing down the tracks, complete with steam funnel and cow catcher.

  They clacked down the line and Bastet loosened her harness and stepped up into the cockpit behind Taziri’s seat to peer out the narrow windows at the way ahead.

  “That was a little scary, but I’m glad you’re here,” the girl said.

  “Always happy to help,” the woman replied with a quick but warm smile over her shoulder. “I just wish people would occasionally come to me when it isn’t a life-or-death situation, and people aren’t trying to shoot me or steal my soul, or fight my aeroplane bare-handed.”