This was no deception, she knew it was true. Osiris was precisely the sort of person to horde knowledge. Even now she recalled his tears as the original library of Alexandria burned. Of course, the destruction happened in stages, between accidents and invasions. An odd thing, knowledge. Men who’d sworn to never fight, who’d been branded everything from old, broken, or cowards, didn’t think twice about plunging into flames to save some ancient tome they valued. With cries of “humanity must know,” or “this book will change the world,” they threw away their lives—only to have some of those books used to enslave or further spread ignorance. Yes, knowledge was an interesting, and dangerous, thing.
But would the files be there? She’d heard the internet archives were copies of the entirety of the searchable internet, but what if the files were in the deep web?
She shook her head at the absurdity of her thought, then stopped herself, self-consciously checking to see if the others had noticed her internal struggle. Thankfully, they all seemed to be wrapped in their own thoughts. Not surprising—this was their world after all. And for all of them, it was the first time they’d returned since being cut off years ago. They had to wonder about others who’d been left behind—or those who didn’t survive.
But her own thoughts returned to the files. Deep web? No, he would never allow his notes to become so obscure. They’d questioned his research methods—and justifiably so—but he never wavered in his desire to make history accessible. If only she’d paid more attention years ago. Her last contact with him involved a myriad of questions about Delphic prophecies and her time amongst the Nords. Old, mad, Herodotus, trying to piece together the true history after thousands of years. She’d answered his questions and then dismissed their conversation within minutes of its end. A little more attention—more time spent in the world instead of playing at being part myth, part imaginary friend—and this information would be accessible in her mind.
“We’re here,” Marie said, breaking the group from their collective revelries. “Where should I park?”
“There,” Adrastia pointed toward the parking lot of the University of Alexandria. “It’s the least conspicuous spot and all we have to do is cross the street.”
Marie made a left into the lot, parked, and killed the engine.
“Was it just me, or did anyone else notice the lack of patrols that whole time?” she asked.
Adrastia was out of the car before anyone could reply, making her way across the street toward their final destination—the Biblotheca Alexandrina.
The architects intended the main exterior wall to look like a sun rising over a beautiful pool. They’d carved words in numerous scripts from around the world. It was meant to be a thing of inspiration, a beacon of light for the enlightenment of humankind. Quarter-moon light splaying across the wall made it look far more sinister. Instead of being inspiring, the shadows playing over the carved words made the various shapes crawl and slither like nightmare beasts waiting for prey.
The others jumped from the car in pursuit.
“Adrastia,” Jason called in a harsh whisper. “Are you insane? What if there’re patrols?”
She ignored him and walked across the street without any attempt to conceal her presence.
They bypassed the front entrance and made their way around the side of the building, working toward service entrances.
Adrastia stood aside from one door and motioned with her hand that Jason should work his magic.
He popped the lock, and they all filed inside.
Jason grabbed Adrastia’s shoulder.
“Seriously,” he hissed, “have you decided just to try and get us killed? That was some stunt just strolling across a major road without even checking for patrols.”
Adrastia shrugged his hand away.
“Marie was right, there have been no patrols. None since the first-and-only one we saw in Al Burj. And I doubt they were a true patrol, they were just doing wide circles, waiting to see if the car was gone.”
“So either Osiris is making things easy for us, ensuring he fulfills his end of your bargain…”
“Or he’s trying to lull us into thinking that way before sending a large assault force after us,” Adrastia finished.
“I’m starting to doubt we’re ready for this,” Jason said. “We only prepared for a certain amount of resistance.”
Adrastia walked away from him, toward the main library.
“We won’t know,” she called over her shoulder, “until it’s all over.”
“Whoa, look at this place.”
They’d entered the main concourse area. Caelum’s mouth hung slightly ajar as he took in the eleven cascading floors of books and reading areas.
“Shelf space for eight million books, a conference center, several other smaller specialty libraries, four museums, four art galleries, a planetarium and even a lab for restoring old manuscripts,” Adrastia recited. “A palace dedicated to enlightenment.”
She scanned the floors and then looked back to the sloping skylight.
“We should go to the lowest level,” she suggested. “It’ll reduce the chance of us being seen from the windows.”
“It also means we’ll be cut off from the exits,” Jason said.
Adrastia did not respond, just made her way down the stairs.
“I don’t think she likes you,” Brandt said.
“The feeling’s mutual.”
Jason knelt down, running his hand along the floor, then inspected the walls separating each level as well.
“At least she wasn’t wrong about the construction of the place—lots of concrete in here, Brandt. I think our exit strategy is good.”
Brandt stretched out his arms, locked his fingers, and pressed them forward into a loud crack.
“Oh, I can do that and a whole lot more.”
“Good. Marie, patrol the perimeter. Caelum, head to higher ground—you’re our sniper.”
Jason took the steps two at a time, catching up with Adrastia at the lowest level.
“I can’t promise you’ll find this useful,” she said without taking her eyes from the screen. “But I’ll give you a copy. There’s a laptop back on Asgard for you to access the information.”
Jason suppressed the urge to interrogate her as to when she visited Asgard again. In fact, he’d found himself doing nothing but having to suppress around her. He kept reminding himself it was foolish to hold a grudge about her betraying him and Gwynn to the Valkyries. After all, that might be the only reason he was alive. Maybe he would’ve died in that crossroads town. And she had saved most of his team…no, his friends. He tried to let that debt seep into his muscles, to loosen them and calm the storm in his gut. Her actions were questionable, but several people he cared about owed her their lives. Wasn’t that enough?
“You have questions?” Adrastia asked.
He hadn’t seen her eyes leave the screen. Even as she spoke to him her fingers continued to rush in a fluid stream over the keyboard.
“Seven years ago, in the bleed through, you left a note to Gwynn that said you would explain your actions.”
She nodded.
“Yes, I did. The letter was addressed to Gwynn and meant for his eyes. I don’t recall promising you the same thing.”
Jason’s fist clenched.
“Are you still angry about it, even after everything that has happened since?” she asked.
Jason took a long breath.
She saved Brandt, Marie, Jackson, and Caelum. She didn’t have to, but she did. Breathe. Breathe.
“I guess, it’s because I haven’t seen you. I thought I’d put a lot of things behind me. But maybe it was just because I didn’t have to deal with them.”
She stopped typing. Biting her bottom lip, her eyes narrowed, studying him.
Adrastia turned back to the terminal, her focus and fingers returning to her task.
“I can’t explain it to you fully,” she said. “What I can say is I have some…insight, similar to Sophia. I
couldn’t fight the sense Gwynn needed to arrive on Asgard. I’m sorry to say, but you getting caught in that was just bad timing.”
“You mean you’re an oracle?” Jason asked.
Adrastia chuckled.
“No. I wish I could see things that clearly. I…just have a sense of how things should go. Again, I can’t explain it all—“
“Or you mean you won’t.”
She sighed.
“I would, but Gwynn deserves those answers first. Not,” she jumped on the word to prevent Jason from interrupting, “because you are less deserving, but because the answers impact Gwynn far more. Please just believe I never meant for you to come to harm. It was a risk giving the two of you to the Valkyries, but I felt it was necessary.”
“Did you know what would happen? Did you know Gwynn would cause the Cataclysm?”
Adrastia’s tongue darted out, moistening her lips.
“No, I didn’t. That was a possibility I never…expected.”
Jason took a step closer to her.
“Would you have kept him away from Asgard if you’d known?”
The steady rhythm of her fingers stumbled and fell silent.
“I…I don’t know,” she finally replied, and resumed typing.
Jason took a moment to turn his attention to his team. Marie moved in blinding speed along the entrances and windows, stopping under cover long enough to bring a set of binoculars up and scan the direction she faced. Caelum had climbed all the way to the eleventh tier, his eyes following Marie, assuming she would signal his target. Brandt seemed to be inspecting the structure, trying to calculate how much damage he could inflict without bringing the whole thing down on their heads.
“I’m surprised you haven’t asked the question bothering you most,” Adrastia said from behind him.
He turned to find her jade eyes focused on him.
“And what’s that?”
A slight smile curled around her lips.
“Where have I been these past seven years? I mean, it has to be part of the reason you don’t trust me. I can see they haven’t been happy years for any of you. Reversing the situation, I’d be wondering “if this woman cares and is on our side, why hasn’t she been helping us?””
Jason willed his body to stay relaxed—the tremor of frustration and anger made it difficult.
“So are you a mind reader now?” he asked.
She took a quick glance at the computer screen.
“Forty percent copied,” she reported, returning her focus to him. “No, I’m not a mind reader. I’ve just spent enough years around people that I read them pretty well. Besides, like I said, if our roles were reversed, that would be my question.”
“And is it one you will answer?” Jason made no attempt to keep the snark out of his voice.
Since her return, Adrastia’s eyes and smile spoke of a gleeful mischief—it had been one more thing pissing Jason off. It melted away now, wax exposed to a sun-like flame. Beneath the illusion was emptiness—her eyes hollow, a reflection of a void within her.
“I’ve been inside the Veil,” she answered.
“For seven years?” His voice was thin, nearly choking on incredulity. “That’s impossible.”
Adrastia looked like she might cry. Instead, she turned back to the computer screen.
“Eighty-seven percent…And yes, it should be impossible. You know the funny part?” her laugh lacked humor. “It seemed longer. Much longer. For all I know, I wrestled Cain and chased him through the Veil for a thousand years. I intended to do it until the end of everything.”
Jason couldn’t look away from her. His friends told him how she shifted to various forms, all the while claiming to be some of the most powerful figures from history. Regardless of whether those claims were true, she had taken down a Veil beast by herself—she might be the most powerful Anunnaki in existence. If she had intended to hold Cain for eternity, the only way she could’ve failed was if he was even stronger. How could any of them defeat such a monster? He wanted to ask, to confirm his greatest fears, but the distance in her eyes kept him silent. Ansuz had been inside the Veil for maybe a few minutes, and it had changed every one of them. What would seven years do?
Adrastia leaned down, pulling two USB sticks from the computer. Once they were free, she started tapping away at the keyboard again.
“I have the information,” she said. “I’m trying to cover my tracks, so they have a harder time figuring out why we were here.”
Jason walked back to the railing and looked up to Marie.
“Anything?”
She flashed him a thumbs up—All clear.
He didn’t know how much worth this information of Adrastia’s would be to Fenrir. He was counting more on her followup promise. If that didn’t come through, he’d consider this trip a failure.
“Do you guys hear that?” Caelum asked.
Jason looked up, catching dark shapes moving into position above the angled glass roof.
“Shit!” he cried. “They’re coming through the roof.”
A soft thump, thump sounded as small packages fell and clung to the glass.
“Charges! Take cover.”
They all dove, covering their heads as a series of pops sounded, showering glass down on them.
Ropes dropped through the holes accompanied by strafing machine gun fire covering the descent of troops.
Brandt snapped chunks of concrete from the walls, launching them like shotgun sprays toward their attackers.
Bodies fell from the sky, their descent even and odd because they remained tethered to their ropes. They hit the ground with a combination of a thud and a series of snaps.
Caelum let a volley of arrows fly from his position on the top level bringing down more soldiers. One of his arrows struck the tail rotor of one of the copters, delivering a satisfying plume of black smoke causing it to veer away from the fight.
Marie sped up the wall and along the remaining beams of the ceiling, weaving up and over through the shattered panes of glass, slicing through ropes and flesh as she made her way to rendezvous with Jason.
“Are you done?” Jason asked Adrastia.
“We’re good.”
She stood from the computer and shut it down.
“That was too easy,” Marie said, arriving at Jason’s side.
“Agreed,” he nodded. “Head up to the roof and get eyes on all sides. We need to start firming up our exit strategy.”
“But she hasn’t shown up yet,” Marie said.
Jason nodded grimly. “I know. But it’s too easy to get boxed in here.” He shook his head ruefully. “This is going to get messy.”
As Marie proceeded to the roof, Adrastia came from behind and gripped his shoulder.
“We knew this would happen. I’d go so far as to say we counted on it.”
“I know. But we could only guess how Osiris’ forces would respond. You won’t abandon us, will you?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“I told you, I’m on your side. You can count on me.”
“Good. I don’t know what you’re capable of, so I’ll leave it to your discretion how best to help.”
A sincere smile touched her lips.
As she passed, she took his hand and pushed one of the USB drives into his palm.
“Will I even know what to do with this?” he asked.
Adrastia shrugged.
“I guess that depends on how much stock you put in prophesy.”
Jason looked at the USB drive. Prophesy? It suddenly felt heavier.
Adrastia didn’t wait for a reply. A scythe materialized in her hand.
“I hope this goes well,” she sighed. “I don’t want to destroy another library in Alexandria.”
She slung the blade over her shoulder nonchalantly and hopped toward the higher levels with balletic grace.
Marie seemed to materialize from thin air at his side.
“There’re gunboats in along the shore to the North, three helicop
ters incoming from the east and I saw some activity in the conference center across the plaza.”
Jason nodded.
“Any indication of Anunnaki?”
“If I had to guess?” Marie shrugged. “Probably the ones in the conference center. I think the first attack was a test. They seem to be keeping the strictly military personnel as a barricade to keep us from running.”
“Give me your hand,” Jason said.
He put the USB into her palm.
“If things go sideways, you take this, you run so fast you’re nothing but a gust of wind, and you get it back to Fenrir.”
“But—”
“No buts,” he cut her off. “I know we’re all friends…no, family. But if we can trust Adrastia, and what you’ve all said about her is true, then whatever this drive contains is important. I don’t pull rank often, but this time, I’m telling you—this is an order.”
Her eyes burned with defiance.
“Fine,” she growled between clenched teeth.
Jason knew she’d keep her word. Regardless of how much she disagreed, they’d only survived this long by following a form of command. Every one of them knew it, and so none would break the chain.
Jason shook his arms, as if it might dispel the increasing tightness in his shoulders. Seven years since he’d seen her. What would she be like? And would she be able to forgive him? The fate of an entire world, maybe all the worlds, hinged on the answer being ‘yes.’”
“They’re coming,” Marie announced. “And she’s with them.”
Here we go.
§
From across the pavilion, the Eternal Winter watched from the conference center.
Terrorists from Asgard had no place on the Pantheon’s world. Still, their abilities were commendable. The speed of their counter-attack after the roof shattered demonstrated experience and cooperation. This was not some group of fanatics banded together recently, they were a team—and a team of powerful Anunnaki.
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