Aetherium (Omnibus Edition)

by Joseph Robert Lewis

  “Lilith!” Asha grabbed her by the shoulders from behind and hurled her away from Gideon.

  The woman in blue rolled across the floor, but quickly rose to her feet and brushed at her dress. Her rough, scaled hands tore the delicate silk. “Damn. I liked this dress.”

  Asha leapt at her again, crushing her against the wall. She slammed her left forearm against Lilith’s chest to hold her still and then reached for her throat with the gleaming red claws of her right hand, but a black scaled hand caught her wrist and held her still.

  “What the devil are you?” Lilith asked, her expression shifting between curiosity and the strain of holding her away. “Where did Gideon find you? Or did Bashir make you? Did he make you to be a weapon just to kill me?”

  “No one made me,” Asha said quietly as she pressed harder and harder on Lilith’s fist, her ruby claws edging ever closer to the woman’s throat. “And Gideon didn’t find me. I found him. He’s not the one who came here to kill you. I am.”

  “Oh, I see.” For a brief instant, Lilith’s grimace became a playful smile. “I see. You’re a goddess, like me, and he’s your little toy. Oh, how delicious. How wonderful to find a kindred spirit!”

  Asha slammed her claws forward but the woman ducked and Asha’s golden fist crashed into the wall, crumbling the stone into dust and pebbles.

  Lilith shoved her back and strode across the room. “I know just what to do with someone like you. Maybe I can kill you, and maybe I can’t. But I can definitely take away your toys.”

  “Get away from him!” Asha leapt again and drove her shoulder into Lilith’s back, knocking her down to all fours. She circled around the woman in blue and stood over Gideon, her ruby claws raised to meet the next assault. Lilith stood and strode forward again, a look of black hate in her eyes.

  “Stop! Please, both of you, stop.” Omar stood up, one hand pressed to his ribs where he had collided with the edge of the table. He placed one hand on Asha’s arm and gently but firmly moved her back to the other side of Gideon so that he now stood between the soldier and the beast.

  “No,” Asha said. “I didn’t come here to talk, or even to punish her for her crimes. She’s a cancer, and I’ve come to remove her from the world.”

  “I know you did.” Omar tried to smile at her, but could only wince. “But I can’t let you kill someone, even her, because of what I set in motion all those years ago in my arrogance and stupidity. Because if you do, then I’ll have turned one more healer into one more killer. And I can’t have that. I can’t watch that happen. Not again. So please, don’t.”

  Asha stepped back from him, wondering at the endless pain in his eyes. She nodded.

  Omar turned to the beast in the blue dress, and held out his empty hands. “Lilith, come here, please.”

  She was only a few paces away, and she swept up to stand before him, face to face, and she stared down at him with a cruel smile. In a husky, mocking voice, she said, “What now, old man? I’m as immortal as you, and stronger, and faster, and smarter. Are you going to try to convince me to live like you? To spend eternity serving others instead of myself? Are you going to appeal to my heart, to my true nature?”

  “Yes, I am.” He reached up slowly with both hands and cupped her face, and then gently leaned forward and kissed her, pressing his lips to hers, moving his lips and tongue slowly at first and then more vigorously.

  Her scaled hands rose, one slipping around the man’s waist and the other around the back of his head. She moaned softly.

  Asha stared at them.

  What the hell is he doing?

  By tiny degrees, Omar arched his back. He moved one hand around to the small of Lilith’s back and pulled her close, pressing her belly to his, pressing her hips to his. And he continued to lean back, pulling her chest onto his as he tasted her mouth. She closed her eyes, and moaned again. And then Omar leaned back a bit more and fell, and Lilith fell with him, her eyes opening for a fraction of a moment as they plummeted toward the floor, arms wrapped around each other, mouths pressed tightly together.

  In that brief moment, Asha saw Lilith’s eyes open and flash with fear.

  Fear, and lust.

  Omar’s back fell squarely on the flat side of Gideon’s sword and his flesh vanished in a flash of flames and cinders, leaving Lilith to crashed through his charred bones onto the blade, and disintegrate in a brief roar of fire. And then they were gone.

  Asha blinked.

  She looked around the room as though waiting for something else to happen, for another creature to appear, for another disaster to erupt. But there was nothing. Dust and ash and cinders swirled lazily through the air, and all was silence except for the crackling and growling of the seireiken. On the floor, two tiny specks of charred sun-steel shone on the stone like oil stains.

  Their pendants. So much for immortality.

  Asha reached down and cleared away the heavy stones from Gideon’s back and legs, and a few moments later the soldier awoke and healed and was himself again. Asha sent the dragon away, and stood beside Gideon in the dancing light of the torches, looking down at the two skeletons still entwined like lovers on the floor.

  Gideon sighed. “I guess it was what he wanted.”

  “It’s not what I wanted,” Asha said. “He shouldn’t have had to die.”

  “Maybe not,” Gideon said gently. “But he did, and it was his choice, and I can respect that. We should honor his sacrifice, not question his decision. It’s over.”

  Asha nodded. “It is over. But too many people had to die to end it.”

  I came here to save him. And instead, he died to save me. He didn’t have to. I wasn’t in danger. I was stronger than her, I know I was.

  So then, why? My soul wasn’t his to save.

  Asha cast one last look around the chamber and listened one last time with her dragon’s ear. She heard nothing. “Come on. There’s nothing left here now.”

  He managed a wry smile and turned to leave. “Time to celebrate?”

  She looked up at him.

  How can he just smile like that? Two people he’s known for thousands of years have just died. He could have died himself.

  She tried to smile back, and after a moment she succeeded. With that one gesture, she felt some of the pain and darkness of the last few days begin to fade. The memories were still there, the pain was still there, but she too was still there. Still alive, with a life before her. “Celebrate? No, no time for that. We still have work to do.”

  Chapter 30

  Asha and Gideon climbed out of the pyramid and back down to the road where they found Taziri and Wren talking and laughing quietly in the shadows.

  Asha paused in the middle of the road and looked back up at the pyramid, a dark pile of stone in a dark cavern that the entire world had forgotten.

  “What’s wrong?” Gideon asked.

  “I don’t know,” Asha said. “After all this madness, it doesn’t feel quite real to think that’s really over, just like that.”

  He nodded. “I know what you—”

  The feathered beast lying in the road behind him snorted and shuddered. Its beak scraped the stone road and its huge legs bent and kicked, and it lurched up onto its feet. The huge predator lifted its blood-painted face and roared at the blackness above them.

  Gideon grabbed his gauntlet and his seireiken illuminated the giant bird of war. Asha hesitated, and then a strange smile spread across her face. She ran past Gideon toward the monster as the dragon came alive within her. It did not hunger in her belly or rage in her heart. It simply slipped over her skin like a soft blanket, wrapping her in scales and claws that shone and glittered in the bright white light.

  Asha leapt into the air with a song in her heart and a light in her eyes, and she drove her fist into the side of the monster’s head. The feathered titan’s skull snapped up and back, and the beast was lifted off its feet as it fell backward, and then it crashed down onto the road. The earth groaned and the dust rose, and Asha landed
lightly on the belly of the predator. She listened, and heard nothing at all from the body beneath her.

  When she dropped back down to the road, Gideon stood there gaping at her. “That was reckless,” he said.

  “I know.” Asha exhaled, washing the dragon away with that simple breath.

  “It was childish and dangerous.”

  “I know. You’re absolutely right.” She patted him on the shoulder as she walked past him toward the shadows where Taziri and Wren waited. “But now it feels like it’s over.”

  The soldier nodded slowly. “Fair enough.”

  Gideon carefully lifted Wren, and they set out down the long, dark highways of the necropolis, and all the way Gideon recounted the events that had transpired with Lilith and Omar.

  Asha watched Wren’s face and saw the sadness in the girl’s eyes upon learning that Omar was dead, but it was a momentary grief. The girl accepted the loss calmly and thoughtfully, and she was quiet for many long moments. But their conversation moved on to other things, to helping the fifty lost men and women waiting by the bonfire, and Wren soon joined in, smiling and saying silly things to make Taziri laugh.

  They found the refugees huddled around the dying embers of the bonfire that glittered red and gold with cinders and hot coals. They all appeared calm and ready to leave, and most could walk unaided, so together they moved on down the dark road through the city of the dead, guided by the gleam of Gideon’s sword. It was a slow procession, but a calm one, and even those who were afraid of the dark, who flinched at every sound and clung to their fellows, learned to smile nervously. Some of them even sang.

  Eventually they reached the tunnel and began to ascend, and then they reached the surface and began to climb out. Night had fallen, and the black sky shone with stars and moonlight. And there by the fountain stood Isis, Horus, and Bastet. The immortals led the strange and weary procession a short distance down the road to a large hotel, which they had rented out in its entirety for the night.

  For hours, Asha sat by the fire and cleaned cuts and stitched wounds and washed away blood, until everyone was whole, and everyone was fed, and everyone found someplace warm and safe to sleep. She fashioned a splint for Wren and made her some tea to ease the pain and help the girl sleep.

  And then, whenever one else had been taken care of, Asha slept.

  When morning came, Asha’s patients began to leave one by one. Most of them had only been missing for a few days, or weeks at most, and they were eager to hurry home to their families. By noon, every last one of them had come down from their beds, eaten breakfast, thanked Asha and Gideon profusely, and left.

  Gideon sat down across from Asha. He turned his chair around and rested his chin on the back of it. “It feels strange, knowing that they’re gone. Bashir and Lilith, and Set and Nethys. The world feels different. Smaller, somehow.”

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “Do you think you’ll miss them? Mourn them?”

  “Probably not. I wasn’t close to any of them,” he said. “Still, it is strange.”

  A door opened at the back of the room and Taziri helped Wren hobble out on her cane to sit by the fire and rest her leg on a pillow. And a moment later, Isis and her son came out and sat with them. Bastet appeared as well, stepping lightly through a thin cloud of mist, and sat down on the floor facing the fire.

  “So,” Taziri said.

  Asha smiled. “So.”

  “What’s next?” the Mazigh woman asked with a warm light in her eyes. “Angels? Demons? Armies of the dead?”

  “Already did that,” Wren said. She smiled, but the smile faded. “I’m sorry to say it, but with Omar gone, I think the world will be a much quieter and safer place. It’s a pity he had to die now, of all times. His one regret still lingering, his last desire in life left unfulfilled.”

  “And what was that?” Asha asked.

  “To atone for his mistakes,” the girl in black said. “To undo what he had done.” She glanced nervously at the three Aegyptians. “To unmake his creations.”

  Isis nodded, her eyes stern and sad. “I understand. And I agree. It was a bold vision he had once. And it was a great effort, even a noble undertaking. But the grand experiment has long outlived its purpose, and so have we.” She reached up and removed the slender chain from around her neck and placed a pair of sun-steel hearts on the table in the center of the group. “Mine, and my husband’s. I’ve had it for centuries. I didn’t trust him not to lose it,” she said. She sighed and looked at her son.

  Horus said nothing as he took off his own pendant and placed it beside his mother’s and father’s. The youth’s face remained etched with grief and pain, and he kept his lips tightly sealed as though not willing to trust himself to speak.

  Bastet smiled shyly up at Taziri and then at Gideon as she took off her necklace and set it with the others. “I get to grow up now?” She looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time, marveling at the wonders of furniture and firelight.

  One by one, all eyes turned to Gideon. The soldier pouted a bit as he ran his thumb down the edge of his jaw and studied the bits of gold on the table. “Well, who wants to live forever anyway?” And he tossed his in with the others.

  “And mine.” Wren slipped the eight silver bracelets from her wrists and leaned over to set them on the table. The sun-steel wires on each of them shone with dark gold. Then the northern girl with the strange ears pulled off her right glove to reveal a ring on her finger, a ring so small and thin that it was barely more than a circle of wire itself. “Can I keep this one? It’s not Omar’s. It belongs to my people. It houses the souls of my teachers. And frankly, I don’t know if they could handle being set free.”

  Asha gently folded the girl’s hand closed. “I think you can keep that.”

  Wren nodded and slipped her glove back on.

  Gideon looked at the pile of necklaces and bracelets. “So, how do we…?”

  “I can.” Asha collected the little hearts and rings in her palm, and then watched as her skin turned golden and her bright red claws curled around the sun-steel. The metal grew soft and dripped off her hand onto the table top in dull gray drops as thin wisps of aether and smoke rose into the air. “There. Done.”

  “I don’t feel any different,” Bastet said, rubbing her hands together. “I thought I would feel different.”

  Wren grinned. “Trust me, you’ll feel different enough when the cramping and the bleeding start. Welcome to the wonderful world of growing older.”

  The women laughed. Gideon and Horus exchanged pained looks across the table.

  “What about this?” Gideon tapped the armored gauntlet on his right arm. “It’s probably the most dangerous weapon in the entire world. And it’s hotter than any other seireiken. I don’t think it would be safe for you, even with your dragon trick there.”

  “I’ll take it,” Taziri said, hold out her hand. “I can dispose of it safely.”

  “Are you sure?” Gideon asked. “I’m not sure you realize how hot this blade really is. I doubt there’s anything in the world that can destroy it.”

  “Trust me.” Taziri took the gauntlet and set it down carefully beside her chair. “No matter how hot your magic sword is, my plasma torch is hotter. I can take care of it, and dispose of it safely. And actually, I suppose that’s everything, isn’t it? Well then.” Taziri pushed herself up to her feet and picked up Gideon’s gauntlet from the floor. “I have an anxious husband, a talkative daughter, and a hundred ungraded engineering exams waiting for me back home.” She shook Asha’s hand, and then Gideon’s. “I’ll go by Jiro’s place and say goodbye to him, too. He has a few of my tools.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Bastet said.

  “We’ll all go together,” Isis said, patting her son on the knee. “We’re not immortal anymore. We’re going to have to get used to the idea of being more careful, and taking better care of each other.”

  Horus nodded and they stood. The
Aegyptians said their goodbyes, and then escorted the Mazigh engineer out into the bright daylight beyond the inn’s doors.

  For a long moment the remaining threesome sat and looked at each other in silence.

  “You know, when Omar asked me to help him undo all his old mistakes, I thought it would take us years and take us all over the world together,” Wren said as she petted Jagdish in her lap. “I certainly though it would take more than a few days in one city.”

  “Has it really only been a few days?” Asha asked. She stared into the fire, trying to count how many days had passed since Priya had died. She couldn’t tell. It felt like an eternity apart, a life lived by another woman in another land, another age. “Wren, I’m sorry I couldn’t bring Omar back to you. But I stand by my promise. I won’t leave you alone.”

  Wren smiled down at Jagdish. “I’m a big girl. As soon as I can walk again, I’ll be just fine. I won’t hold you to that promise.”

  “Why not?” Asha looked at her. “Don’t you still want to see the world?”

  “Sure.”

  “Do you want to learn new ways to heal people?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good.” Asha nodded at her. “I could use an apprentice. Or at least someone to carry my mongoose and to criticize my outlook on life. Interested?”

  “Very,” Wren said with a smile. “Thank you.”

  “And then there’s you.” Asha peered across the table at Gideon. “You’re not much good in a fight, are you? No weapons at all, and your skills are centuries out of date. You’re not even immortal anymore.”

  “I guess not.” He grinned sheepishly. “But I can carry heavy things, and look intimidating when there are unpleasant people around.”

  “Good enough.” Asha held out her hand. “You’re hired. You won’t get paid, you’ll sleep outside, and you’ll eat whatever we can find on the road.”

  “On the road?” he asked, shaking her hand. “Where are we going?”

  “Everywhere. There are still a lot of people out there who need help.” Asha leaned back in her seat and looked thoughtfully into the fire. “There’s no rush though. It’s a big world. There are still a few immortals and seireikens out there, too. And besides, I hear there’s a whole other temple in Nippon. But then, there’s no need to worry about that. We already know what happens when I find one of these temples, don’t we?”