by M. R. Forbes
QUEEN OF DEMONS
CHAOS OF THE COVENANT, BOOK SEVEN
M.R. FORBES
Published by Quirky Algorithms
Seattle, Washington
This novel is a work of fiction and a product of the author’s imagination.
Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 by M.R. Forbes
All rights reserved.
Cover illustration by Tom Edwards
tomedwardsdesign.com
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
THANK YOU for reading Chaos of the Covenant. You’ve made it to the last book, so I assume you’ve enjoyed it so far.
THANK YOU to my beta readers for helping me iron out the rough spots and make each and every book in the series professional and presentable.
THANK YOU to my wife, because everything comes out better with your support.
1
The Keeper knew something was wrong.
Of course, there were plenty of things wrong.
The Covenant had taken heavy fire from the Prophet Azul’s warships, along with a pair of strikes from the much more destructive tactical munitions Keeper had configured for the Apocalypse fighters. The outer hull of the Shardship was a mess of bent and torn metal and broken weapon batteries, a tangle of exposed wiring and deep gouges in the Core’s external nervous system. It was damage that would take days to repair, and Keeper’s programming demanded that it fix the mess as quickly as possible.
And it would. But there was something else that was far more damaged and required far more attention.
It wasn’t clear how that part of the Covenant had been compromised. The warheads had hit the surface, and the ship’s armor and shielding were certainly powerful enough to prevent much penetration.
It was a mystery, one that it was eager to solve.
Keeper reached the Core, stepping up to the mass of bundled synapses and putting its hand against it. The Core had access to data not provided to the external systems, data only it and the Shard could ever reach. It shook its head slightly when it received the results.
This was bad.
It extracted its hand from the Core and broke away at a run. It was a machine, an artificial intelligence, and at the same time, it had some vague concept of emotions, at least as a series of reactions caused by an initiating action. That action had already taken place, and now it was only a question of whether or not it could stop it.
It had a bad feeling it couldn’t.
Its metal feet echoed along the floor of the Shardship, its smooth cadence quickly becoming a solid stream as it moved as quickly as its form allowed.
It burst into the Shard’s Tomb, blades forming in its hands, rushing to the source of its distress.
Someone was standing in front of the Focus.
Keeper didn’t slow. It continued across the floor, approaching the intruder at full speed. It was only two meters away when the figure suddenly turned, the cloak they were using to disguise themselves swinging outward and hardening. Keeper slid against the ground to freeze its momentum. It only partially succeeded.
The solid ripples of the cloak slammed into its chest, creating a deep cut and throwing it backward and onto the floor.
Keeper didn’t remain there. It rolled over and back to its feet, releasing its blades at the intruder, who flicked their wrist and cast them aside. They reached back, placing a hand in the fountain. With their free hand, they pushed Keeper to its knees.
“Where did you come from?” Keeper asked. It struggled to rise, the force of the Gift preventing it from moving easily.
The figure’s mouth split in an ugly grin, revealing sharp teeth. He was old, worn, wrinkled, his skin tight against his bones and covered in stains. He was wearing a seraphsuit, one of the originals, his name on a patch over his breast, nearly worn away by time.
“I’ve been here, Keeper,” he said. His voice was ragged, as though it hadn’t been used for thousands of years. Because it hadn’t. “You just weren’t looking hard enough.”
He removed his hand from the Focus, using both to lift Keeper to its feet. Keeper walked toward him, no longer in control of ts body.
“I know you discovered the anomaly,” the intruder said. “Your mistake was letting her bring the Covenant here. It was what he wanted.”
“I am programmed to follow the directives of the Chosen,” Keeper said. “I had no choice.”
The man laughed. “I know. And yet, you tried to stop her, didn’t you? You tried to convince her not to allow the Asura off the ship?”
“She wouldn’t listen.”
“Unfortunately for her.”
“She is stubborn.”
‘Unfortunately for you. She didn’t know there was more than one reason why they were here. Charmeine was trying to play games. She should have told the Chosen everything.”
“She has told no one everything. Not even me.”
“And look where it’s gotten her. Look where it’s led all of the Archchancellors, all of the Seraphim, and now the so-called Light of the Shard. To failure. To defeat. The Father knew this day would come. He Promised the Covenant would be ours one day. He Promised we would go home, not to die, but to free our people.”
“The One does not seek to destroy those who return.”
“That’s what your programming tells you. But you’re a machine. You only know what you’ve been told. I can’t blame you for that. I was there, Keeper. You remember me, I know, even if the years have turned my body into this. Even the Blood of the Shard couldn’t spare me from the wrath of time. Not completely. I believed in the One when the war came. For years I held out hope that he would save us. And then the first Transversal proved what Lucifer had long suspected. We have never been free.”
“You are wrong. You have always been free.”
“Not yet. But soon, we will be. Soon, all of us will be.”
“You are wrong again. You are not strong enough.”
“I’m not,” the intruder admitted. “But the Father is.” He glanced back at the Focus. “Especially now.”
Keeper was silent. Calculating. This could not be so, and yet all of the data suggested that it was.
“I will stop you.”
“You had your chance, Keeper,” the man said. “It’s too late, now.”
Keeper’s eyes shifted to the Focus. If it had been capable of fear, it might have been afraid. If it had been capable of anger, it might have been angry.
The Blood of the Focus was no longer the milky white the Chosen had returned it to. It once more ran red, a deeper red than he had ever seen before.
“The Father is revived, Keeper,” the man said. “War is coming to Elysium. You’re going to help us bring it there.”
“It is not within my operational parameters.”
“Your parameters are changing.”
Keeper knew it was true. It could sense the assault on the Core. The hidden code making itself known after all of these countless years.
Lucifer’s code, implanted during his original sin and activated at last by the traitorous Seraphim.
The Archchancellor Judas.
It felt the Gift recede from it, allowing it control once more. For a moment, it desired to charge Judas. To wrap its hands around the betrayer’s throat and squeeze until his head exploded. But only for a moment. The desire left him as the Core was updated and overtaken. It put its arms at its sides instead.
“That’s better,” Judas said, smiling again.
“What is your command?” Keeper asked.
“I will give you the coordinates,” Judas said. “Take me to the Father.”
2
Abbey licked the last vestiges of Azul’s blood from her lips. Her entire body was tingling, electrified by the introduction of the additional naniates into her system. She could feel the change in her power. She could sense how it had grown. She felt alive, in a way that was both exhilarating and dangerous. Where was Bastion? At the moment, she wanted to give him what he wanted. It was better that he wasn’t there.
She rose to her feet, turning back toward the masses gathered around her. Her eyes fell on Gant first. His expression was flat, but she knew he was disgusted by what she had just done. He had every right to be. They all did.
Of course, they weren’t all opposed to the action. Rezel looked jealous, as did her Venerants. Azul’s Immolents were impassive, remaining fixed while they waited for her to resolve the outcome.
She didn’t hesitate to do so, looking past Pik and Benhil and the Freejects. She had done what needed to be done. What the situation demanded. No more. No less.
She walked over to where the Immolents stood. Their faces were hidden behind black masks, but she knew from the one she had killed that they were likely little more than children, and not much older than Hayley.
“As per the terms of our agreement, I expect that Azul’s ships will be turned over to me immediately and in their present condition.”
One of the Immolents bowed its head and then pointed to the sky. Abbey turned to look, finding a single, small transport on its way to their position.
“Damn, this shit is getting real,” she heard Benhil say behind her.
“You would do the same thing if she were your child,” Jequn replied.
“Yeah, I would. But maybe I would do it in private.”
She ignored their back and forth. She didn’t care what they thought. She couldn’t afford to. Now now. They had too much work to do.
It didn’t take long for the transport to reach them, settling in the wide street ahead of them, a few dozen meters away. Abbey started toward it, but Rezel approached from the side.
“Allow me, my Queen,” she said, with obvious reverence. The former Prophet had seemed eager to join Azul earlier, but maybe that had been a lie?
Rezel moved to the transport, her head high. The hatch opened, and a single Nephilim stepped out. A young male, clearly one of Azul’s offspring.
“Aqul,” Rezel said to him.
“Rezel,” he replied.
“You have come to satisfy the terms of your father’s agreement?”
“I have. First, I would like to see her.” He glanced past Rezel to where Abbey was standing.
Rezel also looked back at Abbey, who nodded.
“This way,” Rezel said, leading him over.
“Queen of Demons, I present you with the Prophet Aqul.”
Abbey didn’t know what to expect from the man. She did her best to appear regal and commanding, but she wasn’t feeling much patience for the pompous protocol.
“Make it quick,” she said.
“I commend you on your victory,” Aqul said. “You’ve saved this one from a life of servitude, and I’m sure she is very grateful.”
“I am, my Queen,” Rezel said.
“I’m withdrawing my forces from their ships as we speak, save for any Unders who are on board. However, I would like to keep my father’s flagship. The Morningstar has been the head of our Prophetic for six generations now, and we will need a craft to carry us back to our nearest world.”
“Forget it,” Abbey said. “The ship is mine. So is the Font I’m sure is on board.”
Aqul’s face flashed with anger, quickly brought back under control. “Please, hear me out.”
“I said make it quick.”
“All of us in the Nephiliat have heard stories of the coming of Gehenna,” Aqul said. “Many of the Apostants believe they are nothing but fiction. Yet you are here, which means Gehenna must be here. What need do you have of the Morningstar when you have such a thing at your disposal? My Font is a trivial thing compared to yours. Why make an enemy, when you could have an ally?”
“I just killed your father, and you want an alliance?”
“The Father has Promised that the arrival of Gehenna heralds the coming of Armageddon. I want to be on the right side when the End of Days arrive.”
“End of Days?” Uriel said. “I don’t see how us showing up here would be that catastrophic.”
“And how do you know my side is the right side?” Abbey asked.
“You’ve been here a matter of days, and you’ve already defeated two Prophets. I’m willing to take the risk for the right reward.”
“Like keeping your flagship?”
“Among other things.”
“This isn’t a bargaining session,” Abbey said. “Your predecessor already made the deal. The ship is mine.”
“One word and I can mobilize all of the Nephiliat against you,” Aqul said. “Is that what you want? We can bring about Armageddon ourselves. All because of a single ship.”
Abbey considered for a moment. Aqul didn’t seem to care at all that his father was dead. He could smell the power hovering in the balance, and that was where his aim was pointed. It was typical Nephilim bullshit.
“What else do you want?” she asked.
“I would like to take Rezel as my own. Since she is yours, the bond would seal our alliance.”
“No offense, but why do you want her?”
“Look at her, Queen. She is a beauty to behold, and by her lineage would produce many powerful heirs.”
Abbey glanced over at Rezel, who appeared less than thrilled by the idea.
“No,” Abbey said.
“Again you deny me?” Aqul said.
“Welcome to a new way of doing business,” Abbey said. “Nobody does anything they don’t want to, and I get the impression Rezel isn’t that into you.”
“I’m not, my Queen,” Rezel said.
Aqul’s face flushed with embarrassment over the remark. He raised his hand toward Rezel, only to find it frozen in place a moment later.
“Your father was much more Gifted than you are,” Abbey said, holding him easily. “Did you drink from his Font?”
“He didn’t, Queen,” Rezel said. “He served aboard the Nightshade, not with his father, and Azul would never have allowed it.”
“How did you become Prophet then?” Abbey asked.
“The line of succession is clear,” Aqul said.
“Is it? Then tell me something else, Prophet Aqul. What reason would I have not to kill you and every other Gifted in your Prophetic?”
She could see the sudden fear in Aqul’s eyes. “You wouldn’t,” he said.
“Why not? As soon as all the other Prophets come I’m as good as dead, right?”
He was silent.
“I’d like to propose another alliance,” Abbey continued. “The Morningstar is mine. Rezel is whatever she wants to be. I’ll let you leave Jamul with your life. If the Coven… Gehenna intercepts any transmissions to any other Prophets; I’ll make sure you and yours are the first who don’t live to see the End of Days.”
“You can’t enforce that,” Aqul said.
“Try me.”
“I’d pay to see that,” Pik said.
“Me, too,” Benhil agreed.
Aqul stared at Abbey until she let his arm go. Then he turned and stormed away, his Immolents falling in line behind him.
“Does that mean you agree to our terms?” Abbey called after him.
He kept walking.
“Keeper,” Abbey said, opening her link to the Shardship. “Do you copy?” She waited a few seconds. “Keeper?”
Still nothing.
“Gant,” Abbey said. “I can’t get Keeper on the comm.”
“Do you think your suit was damaged in the fighting?”
“I know it was, but it’s all repaired.”
“I don’t know then, Queenie. It should be working.”
“Keeper?” she said again. “Do you copy? Keeper?”
S
till silence.
“Damn it. Rezel?”
“Yes, Queen?” Rezel said.
“I assume you have a comm array in there.” She pointed at the main tower in the center of the city.”
“Of course,” she replied.
“Good. Gant, take Joker and see if you can set up a transmitter to get us back in touch with the others, including Keeper.”
“If I can?” Gant said. “I might be going dumb, but I’m not stupid. Give me twenty minutes.”
“Thank you,” Abbey said. “Rezel, I’m going to need food for my soldiers.”
“It will be done,” she said. She turned to one of her Venerants, giving her instructions.
“I’m going to need access to your Font, too.”
Rezel froze, looking back over her shoulder. “My Font?”
“I need whatever I can get.”
She hesitated and then nodded. “Of course, Queen.”
Abbey turned her attention to the Asura Legionnaires ringing the space.
“Sergeants spread out around the city and keep watch.”
“As you command,” they replied.
She would still need to figure out what exactly she was going to do with the Asura soldiers. Between all of Keeper’s warnings and the way they had questioned her commands, bringing them back to the Republic seemed like a very bad idea, even if she did enjoy having a pet dragon.
“Keeper,” she said, trying one more time to reach out to the artificial intelligence.
Where the frag had it gone with her ship?
3
“Tell me of this Prophet, Belial.”
Belial bowed his head before his Master. “Of course, Lord. The Prophet Selvig Thraven. He is a human, a descendent of the One. A former slave.”
“A slave?”
“Yes. He was brought to the Nephiliat many thousands of years ago. He has achieved much glory in your name. Much more than any of the other Prophets who have worshipped you.”
“They play petty games of power and control when they should be heeding my Word. They squabble over planets when the entire multiverse should be ours. So many years have passed, Belial. We should have built the Gate long ago. We should have returned home long ago. The One believes he is safe in Elysium. Why has it taken so long?”
