by Chris Fox
“You and I will speak later. Be prepared to meet at dawn. Until then, I ask that you find your own lodging,” Isis said, her mouth a tight line. Osiris recoiled as if punched, and heaved a sigh before giving a quick nod. Isis reached up and squeezed his shoulder. “I am pleased that you yet live, and that Hades’s slander appears false. If Set still lives, you will have our aid in stopping him.”
“He does, I assure you. Do not deliberate too long. Set has been one step ahead of me for millennia. Even now I am sure he’s set a dozen plans in motion,” Osiris said, then he turned to Liz. She blinked up at him, blushing lightly. Blair bristled, and not just because Osiris was incredibly handsome. “I am sorry for stealing your weapon, Ka-Ken. You are a vassal of my wife, and I should not have assaulted you.”
Osiris offered the blade back to her, hilt first. Blair’s jaw tightened, and his hands clenched. The man was scoring points with Isis, but both she and Liz seemed to be eating it up.
Liz looked at the golden blade for a long minute, then met the ancient god’s eyes. “Can you use it to fight Set?”
“Without a doubt. The blade is powerful beyond measure,” he said, eyeing her curiously.
“Then keep it, for now at least. If we survive all this, I’ll want it back,” she said, though there was no real heat in her words.
“I like her,” Osiris said, giving Isis a grim smile. Then he strode from the tent, sweeping under the flap with a grace that made Blair grit his teeth. The man was the love child of James Bond and Antonio Banderas.
“Gather,” Isis said, picking a spot near the center of the pillows. “We’ve much to discuss.”
Blair settled in across from her, studying the others as they joined the circle. Jordan stood outside of it, and that felt like more than practicality. He must feel the outsider, for a lot of reasons. Trevor settled in next to Liz. Seemingly at home.
“Well that whole thing was pretty damn surprising,” Liz said, breaking the tense silence. “How well do you trust Osiris?”
“Not at all, Ka-Ken,” Isis said, giving a frustrated sigh. “I still love him, but his motives have always been his own. That will be more true than ever, now that he has spent countless millennia living on his own.”
“That’s the real question,” Blair said, straightening as everyone turned to face him. “What is Osiris’s goal? If he’s on the level, it sounds like his brother Set is the real threat. That could even line up with what we learned from Hades. What if Hades works for Set, but was trying to turn us against Osiris?”
“It’s a perfect strategy,” Trevor said, stroking his goatee absently. “The last three powers we know of are the champions, Ra and her court, and Mohn Corp. If Hades can get us all to fight each other then no one is left standing to deal with Set. He just sweeps in and cleans up the mess we leave.”
“Which we cannot allow to happen,” Isis said. Blair saw something in her eyes he’d never thought to find. Terror. Not fear, which he’d seen occasionally. Not even despair. Stark terror. The certain knowledge that they faced something she wasn’t sure they could beat. “Set is evil on a scale you cannot possibly imagine. Even as a mortal he was cruel. As an immortal he is infinitely worse. He has always sought to rework the world in his own image, which means transforming all living things into demons. Each would be an extension of his will. In essence, we’d become one entity, an extension of Set.”
“So our course seems pretty clear then,” Jordan said, finally entering the conversation. “All three factions unite, and we take the fucker on. He goes down, no matter what that costs.”
“That is precisely what we must do,” Isis agreed, nodding at Jordan. “Tomorrow morning we work out the particulars of this alliance. We will need to establish a true leader, and we will have to hammer out the details of a truce.”
“Isis,” Blair said, rising to his feet. He clenched both fists, forcing down a knot of anger. “There’s a stipulation we need to ask for. It’s non-negotiable.”
“What is it you wish?” Isis asked, raising a delicate eyebrow.
“Steve has to face justice for his crimes. He stole memories from you, stole a key from me, and he’ll work with anyone if it advances his own cause. He’s dangerous,” Blair said. He knew his voice was rising, almost to a shout. He didn’t care. “Too many times we’ve let him live and he’s gotten away. He’s betrayed us at every turn, and he won’t hesitate to do it again. If he thinks Set is the side likely to win, he’ll sell us out in a heartbeat. He’s got to go.”
Isis was silent for a moment, head cocked as she considered. Then her gaze swept the room. “Do the rest of you agree?”
“Fuck yes, I agree,” Jordan said, stepping onto the carpet with a massive metallic foot. “Steve is the worst kind of douche, self-serving and conniving. We should have dealt with him back in San Francisco. Let’s not make the same mistake again.”
“They’re right,” Liz said, nodding.
“I think we can convince Ra to give him to us,” Trevor said. “She doesn’t have any love for the guy, and she’s not going to jeopardize an alliance just to keep Irakesh happy. Let’s ask her, but I doubt she’ll refuse.”
“Do we have any other demands?” Liz asked, scanning the room.
“I don’t,” Blair said. If he could finally deal with Steve, that was enough.
No one spoke for several moments, until Isis rose gracefully to her feet. “Then we have a course of action. Get some rest, those of you who can. I must meditate upon all that has happened. I will return before dawn.”
57
The Cave of Painted Dreams
Isis left the tent, walking through Sekhmet’s camp with little attention for the myriad of deathless creations. She’d battled them all at one time or another, when her near-sister’s armies had invaded the lands now known as the Americas. They no longer held the same terror for her, and not just because they’d soon be allies. She could crush them all now that she once again possessed a Primary Access Key. That was a fact Sekhmet and Osiris might both be ignorant of. One she’d have to choose carefully whether or not to reveal.
She made her way up the pathway that led back into the valley of the sacred cave, the place known as Chauvet in this age. It was no longer a place of power, but the images she’d crafted in the dark there all those millennia ago still gave her comfort. She remembered learning at her grandmother’s feet about the mysteries of the world, and her ordination as a shaman.
They’d been wrong about so much, but in their own way her people had possessed more wisdom than any civilization that had come since. They’d lived in harmony with the world, living and dying as all animals did. It was only after the virus she herself had crafted that their species had changed, had begun dominating the environments they’d once merely lived in.
Perhaps that would have happened anyway. Surely the discovery of agriculture would have happened without their influence. By the time the Egyptians and Sumerians had come to power, all memory of her people had faded.
The cool wind stirred her hair as she mounted the pass, ducking under a narrow cliff as she entered the valley. The face of the land was a little different, but this place could have been the world of her childhood, if it were covered in snow. She pressed on, passing by oaks and a few pines as she climbed higher. Blair’s slipsail glittered in the distance, the ship a rarity even in her time. The fact that Hades had parted with it was troubling, but she’d detected no trap. If it existed, it was cunningly hidden.
Isis climbed still further, eventually reaching the hidden entrance to the cave. In her own time, it had been a secret entrusted only to the shamans, those wise enough to guide chieftains. All of their prayers and meditations had taken place within its narrow confines, and it had been that way as far back as man had memory.
The fact that this place had survived pleased her, and she couldn’t help but smile as she shimmied through the entrance into the darkness. She summoned her staff, extending her right arm as it flowed into her hand. Isis willed
the barest hint of energy to the sapphire set in the thorax of the winged scarab at the staff’s head. The room filled with sudden brilliance, more than she’d ever seen when she’d been first acolyte, then shaman, of her tribe.
The illumination showed her sights she’d never dreamed of. Thousands of tiny stalagmites dotted the ceiling and some of the walls, like tiny rain drops frozen by the breath of a god greater than her. Between them lay the magnificent cave paintings she’d known as a child. Some were drawn in black, those the work of the eldest tribes. Others were scarlet, traced using dye from berries she herself had mixed.
She smiled at one of her own works, a stallion rearing on the southern wall of the cave. She’d labored for days to create it, agonizing over every line. At the time, she’d been taught if she made the image perfect she’d capture the spirit of the creature itself, and in so doing would convince the beast to return. Then her tribe could slay it, taking the gift of its life to sustain them through the endless winter.
“Magnificent,” came a warm voice behind her. She turned to see Osiris standing in the cave mouth, his hair coated lightly with dust from squeezing through the entrance. It did nothing to diminish his attractiveness; if anything, that was increased by the light of wonder in his eyes. “I always wondered what the inside of this place was like.”
“It is not for your eyes,” Isis said, more than a little crossly. She extinguished her staff, blinking at the sudden darkness. “This is a holy place, meant for shamans. You were a chieftain, and this place is forbidden you.”
Sudden laughter echoed through the cave, warm and friendly. “Ah, my wife, I have missed you. You were always one for tradition, always mated so closely with nature, and with the old ways. I am chieftain no longer, as you are no longer a shaman. This is a new world, one neither of us is equipped to rule any longer.”
That shocked her. Osiris had always been ambitious, had always believed in his divine right to rule. “Then you intend to step aside and simply allow a new generation to rule in our stead?”
“Hardly,” he scoffed. A tiny ball of green energy appeared above the palm of his upraised hand. It cast hellish shadows over his features. “There are many threats the people of this world cannot face alone. They need us. But once those threats have been eliminated, then yes, I intend to step aside and allow others to rule. I’m tired, my love. I’ve spent countless millennia guiding the world, and it is a burden I wish to lay down.”
She eyed him suspiciously. The Osiris she’d known would never abandon leadership, never give up his stewardship. That man had said the world would always need them, that he would always be there to protect it. “There will ever be more threats. You know that. Each time we vanquished one, another rose. It will be much the same in this age.”
“You’re right,” he said, giving her a crooked smile she well remembered. “But in time there will be new champions to face them. I’ve made preparations in that way, just as you have. They just need time to find their footing, but once they do we’ll be able to retire knowing the world’s safety is in good hands.”
Their conversation was interrupted by a scrabbling from the entrance. Osiris tossed the swirling green ball into the air and adopted a combat stance. She noticed that he’d reached for his sword, an instinctive reaction he’d likely never outgrow.
“I’m not interrupting a tryst, am I?” came Sekhmet’s voice, as the scarlet-haired woman ducked into view. She, too, was coated in a fine layer of dust. “I do hate it when you two gaze so lovingly into each other’s eyes, though those episodes have been thankfully rare in recent millennia.”
Neither she nor Osiris answered. Despite the cavalier tone, the tension was palpable. This was the first time they’d been together since they’d first founded their pantheon all those millennia ago. There had been so much war and strife since then, each championing their own view of the perfect world.
“So this is the vaunted cave of the shamans?” Sekhmet continued, staring up at the ceiling in obvious wonder. “I always wondered what happened in this cave. I thought real magic happened here. Imagine my surprise when I finally unlocked the mysteries of shaping and realized that everything that happened here was nothing more than superstition.”
“Not so,” Osiris snapped, with more ire than Isis would have expected. He’d never cared much for religion. Why had Sekhmet’s comment bothered him so? “I’ve learned much about mankind while you and Isis slumbered, much about what makes us whole as a people. We were at our best when we were in harmony with the land, and part of that harmony came from our mythology. Myth grounds us; while what happened here may have been superstition, it was integral to our identity as a species.”
“The years have not been kind, Osiris,” Sekhmet said, giving him a cruel smile. “You were a warrior, once. It sounds like you’ve given that up to become a philosopher.”
“And apparently you’re still a mindless brute,” Osiris said, voice heavy with weariness. “In the past I’d have let you bait me with insults, but I’ve seen things neither of you can really understand. Set is a grave threat, but we’ve even worse to deal with, assuming we can best him first.”
“Worse?” Isis asked, fearing she already knew who he meant.
“We’ve always wondered who the Builders were, where they might have gone,” Osiris replied, gazing at her with those serious eyes. “I’ve found answers while you slumbered. The Builders will return, and when they do, the war that follows will make our war with Set look like feast day games. Thankfully, we have years before that event occurs. Which is why I suggest we deal with Set first.” He turned back to Sekhmet. “I just want to make sure you understand the gravity of the situation. This cannot be like our past skirmishes, where we came together just long enough to complete a task. If we do not find a way to stand united, the world is doomed.”
Sekhmet studied Osiris, expression unreadable. It was long moments before she spoke. “Perhaps you have gained a bit of wisdom. I have many questions about the Builders, but I agree that for now Set is the true threat. If we cannot overcome him, it won’t much matter what happens afterwards.”
“Then you believe me when I say I was not behind the invasion of the underworld?” Osiris asked, gaze roaming between the two of them.
“I believe you. I can feel your weakness. You are still gathering your strength, and had you been in control of the First Ark that would not be the case,” Isis said, nodding. “Besides, Hades couldn’t be trusted in the best of times. It makes sense that he’d agree to serve Set, though I am surprised Vulcan would agree to such a thing.”
“I do not believe he has,” Sekhmet said, pursing her lips. “When I met with him, he was clearly uncomfortable, likely because of what he’d done to Wepwawet. I do not think Hades has shared everything with him, and Vulcan may not even be aware of who it is he really serves.”
“So what do we do now?” Isis asked. It warmed her to be working with her tribe again, just as they had when they’d been mortal.
“We gather our forces, and attack,” Sekhmet snarled, face growing feral as her eyes flared green. “Set will pay for his treachery.”
“It isn’t that simple,” Osiris said, folding his arms as he watched them. “Set has grown powerful beyond measure. Developed abilities we cannot even comprehend. His spies are everywhere. My organization is littered with them, as are both of yours, I’m sure. If we wish to overcome him, it will take stealth and subterfuge.”
“You have some plan then?” Isis asked.
“I do,” Osiris said, grinning wickedly.
58
Surprise
Jordan was more than a little irritable, partially because he now understood that the armor fueled his negative emotions. It made him angry, which made him angrier. It was a vicious cycle, one he’d have given just about anything to escape. In many ways, the armor was worse than the collar had been. He was more free, physically at least. Yet mentally he was trapped in a way he’d never experienced, and he hated it. Not breakin
g everything around him took every ounce of self control.
He watched as everyone filed into the tent. It was like a state dinner, each side bringing their respective dignitaries. Ra, Trevor, Irakesh, and Anubis took one side of the tent. Behind them stood Steve and Wepwawet. The former was a servile little fuck, while Wepwawet exuded thinly-veiled violence. Jordan could feel the god watching him through a faceplate twin to his own. Was the wolf-headed god experiencing the same things he was? Maybe, if they struck a real alliance here, the two could find a way to help each other escape their respective prisons.
Isis, Liz, and Blair dominated the other side of the tent. Jordan loomed behind them, trying to make up for Ra’s larger force. He wasn’t sure how much success he was having, but at least their faction was more impressive than the last one. Osiris sat by himself on another side of the circle, drinking from a cup of water and looking utterly unconcerned that he was the only one without backup.
“The last of us have arrived,” Ra said, her melodious voice easily overpowering the wind outside. “We have come to discuss a treaty between the gods, a compact between Isis, Osiris, and myself. To this end, I’d suggest we discuss our respective terms. Assuming we can reach an accord, we will then nominate a leader for this alliance. Is this an acceptable format?”
Both Isis and Osiris nodded. The whole thing felt very rote, as if the three had already discussed this at length and were now merely going through the whole thing for show.
“Isis, why don’t you begin by giving us your terms?” Ra asked, leaning forward and resting her chin on her hand.
“Our terms are simple,” Isis said. She straightened. “We are willing to work alongside you and Osiris to stop Set. We will put our forces at the disposal of the elected leader. In exchange, we ask the following. First, we will be given safe passage back to our lands once the deed is done. Second, the group will help re-establish a conduit to the Nexus. Third, the Ka-Dun Steve will be turned over to us, to face justice for his crimes.”