Wolves of the Tesseract Collection

by Christopher D Schmitz

  Charobv whirled around within the darkened cab of the dead vehicle and squinted at the missile’s lock systems. They firmly held the massive explosive to the launching rail which was supposed to guide the ballistic device to its target.

  Panic gripped Kreephast and he yanked on the door handle—it held fast, locked by the truck’s burned out electronics. He pulled his blaster pistol, which had also been drained, but worked as a club and he beat the window in vain, trying to break the bulletproof glass as the boosters fired. Thrusters spat fire and the missile tried to launch.

  Charobv and Kreephast howled in terror as the weapon’s fiery plume pushed the truck across the road fifteen feet, groaning against the locked rail which twisted and bent under the force and suddenly the missile reached the end of the sequence.

  The truck’s cab could withstand repeated gunfire, but it was not rocket proof.

  ***

  Shjikara glanced at his timepiece as the hovering anti-grav sled settled to the ground just outside of the Veritas’ walled grounds. He exited the shuttle flanked by four of his guards who had detailed knowledge of the monastery’s advanced security systems. Few knew it, but aside from the Royal castle and its Chamber of Secrets, guarded by the line of the Architect King, the Veritas possessed the second largest store of eldritch artifacts and those powerful items could not remain unguarded for long.

  He reached into his pockets as he walked through the outer cloister and grasped the carved spool and it's skein of red thread; it would soon find its way into the high priest's vault. Shjikara gave friendly, albeit less sincere, smiles to the refugees who had rehomed to his highlands beyond the once verdant plains surrounding the main castle grounds of the Royal City. The lush geography had nearly recovered from the horrors Nitthogr had unleashed upon it.

  Once within the quiet hallways of the abbey where only the Veritas were allowed, his guards fell back and went about their business of maintaining security. Shjikara wandered towards his private chantry knowing that the other four heads of the disciplines would find their way back to the priory after supervising the departure of the planeswalkers. Besides the sparse crew he kept in reserve, Shjikara had sent everyone else to help curb the threat of Akko Soggathoth.

  The leader turned the darquematter spool over in his grip and felt its power. It was potent enough to allow its wielders to use gates that were closed by the celestial phases, making it one of the more powerful and dangerous items as it could alter the expected nature of reality.

  Shjikara arrived at a heavy, unassuming door built into the side of the mountain. Only he could open the sacristy vault alone—in his absence, it took the four combined heads of the different orders within the Veritas. With nobody else in the monastery grounds, he left the door ajar.

  The door unlocked with his key and swung open to reveal shelves of artifacts. Shjikara allowed himself a little pride in his collection, which rivaled that of the Chamber of Secrets, and placed the spool upon a numbered, blank space upon a shelf. He took a seat and opened a heavy codex which he used to catalog the sacristy's artifacts.

  Engrossed in the writing, Shjikara jotted notes about how it came into his possession, the item's abilities, and a brief description. Finally, he closed the tome with a meaty thud and looked up.

  Startled, Shjikara yelled out, "You!" The priest leapt backward even as the door slammed shut, locking out any help that might have been nearby. He staggered onto feet that had gone rigid and unfeeling; they slid on the polished ground like skates on ice and he shrieked as his legs and then his waist turned to stone.

  “My master bids you welcome. He sent me here on this mission which even I don’t fully understand,” the trespasser hissed.

  As Shjikara’s arms and shoulders began solidifying, his terrified face locked in horror, but his eyes and hands were the last to turn. The intruder jammed a burnished runestone into the priest’s hand and then shut it into a fist so that it solidified inside.

  “This will allow one stone figure freedom—but it will not be you,” he laughed.

  Basilisk watched the transformation take hold as Shjikara fully solidified. His spy had continued to pay off with critical information.

  The tarkhūn took nothing from the room, though several items caught his eye to tempt him. The Dunnischktet—a herald of Sh’logath—had made it into the very heart of the Architect King’s most ardent religious caste but he made no move against them except what his master had instructed of him.

  Basilisk slipped out of the door silently, knowing that Shjikara’s mind would remain fully conscious, but his body locked in an ageless prison. He grinned and closed the door to the sacristy vault, sealing Shjikara within for who knew how long—he only knew that he had obeyed the command of Sh’logath.

  ***

  Immediately after the first combined wave of clerics, military, and elite corpsmen planeswalked Bithia and Sam Jones crossed into Earth. Jackie already stood at the edge of the Crag with her pulse rifle shouldered and pouring lethal energy into the enemy. Caivev’s forces had not been able to mount any kind of effective counterattack after the surprise wave of crippling EMPs.

  Startled by the violence of its noise, Bithia recoiled at the detonation up the hill where a truck-mounted missile erupted with lethal fury. Its mushroom cloud painted the nearby vyrm with a swath of fire that melted flesh and scale.

  Jackie grabbed the princess her by the arm and pulled her towards cover. Vyrm enemies caught between the short range of Tay-lore’s bio-EMP and the further reach of the standard electromagnetic pulse threw aside their deactivated laser tech weapons and changed tactics.

  The enemy scrambled to snatch up the mechanical firearms dropped by General Nyagittari’s troops. Bullets would provide similarly effective force if pressed.

  “Come on, Claire,” Jackie pulled her towards the steep edge of the Crag where they’d have cover. She still didn’t know about her friend’s change—though she suspected something was amiss.

  The Prime’s troops continued bursting through the gate. They rushed up the edge of a nearby washout and into the fray with weapons blazing. They didn’t pause or hesitate.

  Suddenly Zabe dropped over the edge of the overhang, almost as if he fell. He leaned against the embankment and caught his breath while blood leaked from fresh bullet wounds.

  “Zabe, you’re hurt,” Bithia fretted.

  He shook his head. “I’ll be fine in a moment. I just need a second to heal up.” The tears in his flesh slowly stitched themselves together as he took the blaster pistol from Sam who’d carried it for him knowing the EMP would drain the device unless it came with the second wave. “I’m sure that, based on the resistance up top, we must be in the right place. Sam, where’s the old dig site?”

  The archaeologist pointed.

  Zabe looked at Bithia. "Do you sense him? Is Akko Soggathoth there? We've only got one chance."

  The princess closed her eyes momentarily. She opened them and fixed her allies with a fiery look. “He is there—and more—all of his brothers have been awakened and taken shape. We must hurry.”

  Chapter 23

  “Where have you been?” Sisyphus glared at Theera. He slinked back to the group just in time to watch his master break the final seal that bound Akko Sxkakzacros. He released him from its pages and his presence shifted and burbled like a malevolent ball of hovering ink.

  “Not your concern,” Theera hissed. The minion shot his master a sagacious look and received a nod of approval in response. Theera beamed like a happy puppy.

  Growling an insult, the Heptobscurantum’s high wizard let it go—he only knew he wouldn’t want to miss a second of the ceremony.

  The trembling captive nearby screamed and scrambled away from the cultists before pitching headlong as the carnivorous spirit of Akko Sxkakzacros seized him. He trembled on the ground for a moment before rising to his feet with a snarl.

  “Our purpose is fulfilled, then,” the man frowned as if
he’d hoped there would be more. “Let us get on with it.” He pushed down the churning lump of flesh that pushed out from his abdomen as if another creature lived beneath his skin. Akko Sxkakzacros turned and walked towards the giant etching from the Rasthakkan writings.

  “Hold a moment,” Akko Soggathoth stated. “I sense a powerful enemy approaching who threatens the circle.”

  Akko Sxkakzacros bared his teeth as he took his spot and drew his sigil on the floor, snarling at the bonds as they took hold. Two empty spots stood at the bottom two points of the star.

  “I will take care of it,” Caivev said as she reached for her holstered blaster.

  “No,” Akko Soggathoth snapped. “I will do it.”

  “Join the circle and be done with this,” roared Akko Sxkakzacros, shaking his chains. He looked skyward where a roiling cloud framed a clear patch of sky. The center seemed to open into a wholly different realm which writhed with annelid-like appendages. Beyond the chains, the lens cleared to reveal a giant, lidless eye that peered yearningly towards the Temple of Koth.

  “I must do this.”

  “You must do nothing! This is your purpose, now come and fulfill it.”

  Akko Soggathoth smirked. “Eldest brother… always trying to tell me what to do.” He began walking away while Akko Sxkakzacros growled at his backside.

  “Enough of these games, trickster!” Akko Sxkakzacros dug his fingers into his own flesh and, with a horrendous sucking sound, ripped free the gurgling lump of flesh at his belly. He hurled the hunk of corpuscle and sinew into one of the two empty circles. A bloody tendril flailed about on the floor as it maneuvered about the area. The grotesque proboscis messily made the mark of Akko Quarnyk.

  Akko Soggathoth ignored his brother, whose organs began tumbling out of the opened cavity wound, slapping the floor with wet sounds; the giant eye above which shimmered with anticipation. Only the last brother needed to take his place for the ritual to continue. "Caivev, you have a shade amongst your forces in Kith?"

  Confused, she nodded. “There is one within the temple.”

  “Excellent. I will need to borrow his shapeshifting abilities.” He turned to Skrom. “Hold my vessel—I will need it when I return so we may continue here.”

  Akko Sxkakzacros scoffed at his brother who could fulfill their dark purposes in an instant if he only chose. The tarkhūn general didn’t seem to notice; Skrom grabbed Akko Soggathoth and the man expelled the black mist which quickly dissipated, leaving the ceremony on hold.

  ***

  The Guardian Corps and allied forces easily drove the enemy armies back into the thick jungles. With the smoking wreckage of the burned up and derelict vehicles well behind them, the EMP wave hadn’t affected the vyrm weapons this far out.

  “I can sense the Brothers’ power growing—like a bright light coming through a tunnel,” Bithia stated. “They must be through the temple gates and deep inside Koth. That’s where they’d hold such a wicked ceremony—we’ve got to go faster.”

  “I don’t think that’s likely to happen, Princess,” Wulftone called over his shoulder, firing his blaster into the trees.

  They were only a couple klicks from the old dig site where the temple lay, but the road that led to it was a corridor of death. So far they’d managed to move down the line, but slowly and only with the help of the giant tower shields brought in from the royal armory which they used to make a series of makeshift, mobile walls to protect against the intense barrage of blaster fire.

  “It’s a freaking gauntlet,” Chira called over his shoulder as he tried to target a few enemies while he peeked around a rectangular shield. The high-tech frames crackled with energy as the microscopically thin force-wall shimmered and sizzled as it blocked the incoming fire he drew. “We will get there—but it’s gonna take time. We’re gonna have to pray it’s soon enough.”

  Zabe scowled. He didn’t need Bithia psychically projecting her thoughts into his mind for him to know what she was thinking. She wore them plainly on her face, and he agreed completely. They did not have any more time.

  “We will take a round-about way and sneak in if you can cause a diversion… and here comes one now,” Bithia said.

  The others shot her a skeptical look, and then the trail ahead of them became a tunnel of fire that burned their forward team of shield holders and scorched the leaves and bracken that upheld the lush, green canopy. Soldiers quickly took their places and reset the shield wall, but they had to hunker together in a tight overlap to hold the line against the napalm-like heat that licked fiery tongues around the edges of the barrier. They couldn’t move the line without scorching the front half of the soldiers, including the princess’s cadre.

  “At least they stopped shooting at us while they’re trying to start this barbecue,” Jackie muttered.

  Bithia shrugged off the others’ incredulous looks. “A tarkhūn firelord. I could sense him coming… those vyrm possessing gifts seem to burn brighter on the astral plane. Caivev must’ve been able to get one from Basilisk and his supposedly peaceful vyrm alliance.”

  Jackie’s eyebrows raised and she racked the action on her sniper rifle. “I’ve got an idea. I’ll take him out as soon as you get out of here.”

  Bithia turned to Zabe. They had to go—and right away. Sam grabbed her arm and looked into her face.

  The princess felt a pang of sorrow—she should’ve thought of him—surely Bithia’s rash course of action would weigh on him.

  “Listen,” he said. “I know you’re Bithia—but you’re also my Claire-bear. Be careful; you’re my daughter, regardless.” Sam pulled her into a hug for a few quick seconds, squeezing a few tears out of Bithia.

  “I’ll be okay,” she promised.

  Sam turned to Zabe. “They’re obviously expecting us to come from the main approach where the door is. If you can, get around the backside and to the top of the pyramid. There should be an access chute that will lead all the way down to the heart of the temple. We always thought they were ventilation shafts—and it’s not important, now, whatever they were—but you can use them to get inside undetected. You know what they look like?”

  Zabe bobbed his snout. Wulftone had shared his experiences from Antarctica.

  “Good. We’re all counting on you, son.”

  Zabe nodded again. He scooped up Bithia and dashed into the trees, sprinting through the trees with uncanny speed and using his animal senses to guide him through the dense growth.

  "Alright," Jackie said as soon as they were gone. She grabbed a fistful of Wulftone's fur as she adjusted the fit on Respan's visual scanner and pulled him close. "Give me a boost, big guy. I've got him in my scope." Even through the blanket of roiling black and orange flame, the tarkhūn's presence made a solid blip on the brow-mounted reticle.

  The lycan crouched and let her crawl into a seated position on his shoulders. She shifted her butt and leaned over his furry head.

  Jackie planted a kiss on the top of his snouted. “Alright—go!”

  Wulftone stood tall and let Jackie see over the fray. She grimaced through the heat, snapped her sights up to her eyes, and pulled the trigger. Her single shot rang out and the fire suddenly stopped.

  ***

  Zabe and Bithia could hear the violence erupting in the forest as they looped around the area. It had been mostly excavated and they scrambled over trenches and obstacles that would deter and bottleneck the army on the road, but the lycan passed them easily.

  Finally, they reached a massive trench which had been dug out to reveal the sprawling girth of the ancient site. Wooden walkways, bridges, and stairs eased movement for the diggers.

  The intruders avoided those easy paths and stuck to the cover of the foliage until they’d arrived at the rear of the pyramid. They crept over the lip of the trench and kept well away from prying eyes as they worked their way through the heavy machinery used to clear away the soil.

  “There it is,” Zabe said, pointing towards a
kind of stone stairway carved into the backside of the pyramid. It would lead them all the way to the top of the pyramid and it was tucked away from the prying eyes of the defending forces.

  Suddenly, Zabe staggered and fell to his knees under the weight of some unseen force. His body shifted back to its human shape. He couldn’t seem to differentiate between the waves of emotion that suddenly overcame him: despair, fear, nausea. A horrendous buzzing rose up in his ears and shot his heart into overdrive as if his insides suddenly filled with a million writhing cicadas.

  “We can sense you!” The chorus of voices echoed through his mind; they dripped with condescension and villainy. “Every thought is laid bare before us!”

  Zabe’s mind replayed a million thoughts and all in an instant: every inadequacy, every embarrassment, each regret and sorrow. His mind crippled his body as the vyrm psychics toyed with him.

  Warmness flooded his body and Zabe grinned. “I don’t think you are prepared for who I brought: someone who knows all that stuff already and loves me anyway.”

  The vyrm hissed and Bithia stepped into the light. “You three think you can challenge me?” She blasted a ripple of psionic energy and the trio of Lichs staggered out of their hiding places between the heavy equipment.

  Anger radiated off of her like a corona as Bithia walking unafraid towards the three scaly clerics. Zabe could feel their hold weaken as she pumped them full of her willpower, the astral equivalent of her flexing psychic muscles. She easily overmatched them and they fell to their knees, swaying inconsolably. Their eyes rolled back in their skulls and blood trickled down their noses as she burned their essence away.

  As Zabe scrambled back to his feet, the psychics collapsed into the dust with brains reduced to pudding. She hadn’t given them an option for surrender; there was no time for that.

  Bithia’s eyes burned as intense as he’d ever seen them. “They should’ve sent at least four times as many if they wanted to stop us.”