The Deathless Quadrilogy

by Chris Fox

  Whispering rippled through the room at the last, though it was doused like a candle caught in the wind. Jordan watched Steve’s reaction carefully, and he couldn’t help but smile at the fear he read there. Steve had been playing a dangerous game for a long time, and seemed to realize he might finally have lost.

  “Osiris?” Ra said, shifting to half face him. “I would hear your demands as well before terms are set with Isis.”

  “My terms are simple,” Osiris said, setting down his goblet. He gave Ra a hard look. “After Set is overthrown, I am again made Ark Lord of the First Ark. If we recover a Primary Access Key, that key is given to me. In exchange, I offer the following. I will use the key to forge a conduit to the Nexus. I will also offer the full might of Mohn Corp., and I assure you it will be needed to win this battle. When the fighting is done, I will grant all parties safe egress from the land now called England.”

  Ra was silent for a long moment. “Very well, I have heard both your terms. Now hear mine. Osiris will be made Ark Lord of the First Ark, this I can agree to. Yet I will not give up a Primary Access Key, if one is discovered. I know all gods will seek such a powerful tool, so I’d suggest that whoever personally vanquishes Set may claim the weapon.”

  Now that was an interesting choice. Jordan privately agreed with it. It gave all three of them incentive to kill whoever this Set was, and it prevented whatever pointless bickering would no doubt erupt over who got the weapon.

  “As for your terms, Isis, I agree to them unilaterally. The Ka-Dun Steve will be turned over at the conclusion of our compact,” Ra said, raising a hand.

  Wepwawet seemed to know what she wanted, reaching out a metallic hand to seize Steve by the scruff of the neck. Good thing too, as Steve had already begun to blur. Fucking coward.

  “In light of Osiris’s request for the Primary Access Key, I’d suggest a compromise,” Isis said, rising to her feet. She extended a hand, and a moment later gold flowed up her arm. It coalesced into the familiar staff with its scarab head. “I already possess one of the keys, and I have no need of another. In exchange for foregoing my claim to the weapon, I—”

  Pain wracked Jordan. Fire shot through every nerve, and he began to twitch as if being electrocuted. The armor prevented him from falling, but he’d lost all muscle control. He felt woozy, as his bladder emptied of its own accord. The fire faded, but in its place left a heavy blanket smothering his entire body. He tried to shake his head, but found he couldn’t move, not so much as his jaw. What the hell was going on?

  A moment later his HUD flickered to life, entering combat mode. It began cataloguing people in the room. All were listed as enemies, and as he watched, each was assigned a priority. All save one. Wepwawet was painted blue, the only friendly in the room. The implications chilled Jordan to the core. He strained, trying to force movement from his flaccid body. Nothing. It refused to obey him, instead moving of its own accord.

  He could do nothing as the missile tubes on his shoulder opened, watching in horror as Wepwawet’s armor mirrored the action. Isis had been wrong about the length of time it would take for the taint to seize control.

  There was a small kick as both launchers delivered their entire payload.

  59

  Flight

  A wall of flame ballooned outward from the exploding missiles, blowing shrapnel through anything in its way. Trevor curled his body into a ball as the blast hurled him through the scattering ash of what had been the tent. His internal organs were perforated, his spine broken. He landed in a heap, his one good eye aimed in the direction of the carnage.

  Jordan and Wepwawet stood in the midst of the destruction, with everyone else strewn around for a hundred yards, moaning, groping for missing limbs, clutching at bleeding heads.

  Ra stood first, with more grace than one could expect, though her body remained whole and her golden spear emerged like an extension of her arm. Her eyes smoldered, and her lips were drawn back in a snarl.

  Isis rose next, shifting into wolf form as she tore loose the tattered remains of her skirt. Osiris leapt to his feet immediately after, his suit nothing but a charred memory. Its absence exposed an athletic body criss-crossed with near-endless scars.

  Ra’s golden spear twirled in her hands even as she leapt into the air above Wepwawet. She thrust the weapon through the seam in his armor where the helmet met the chest plate. The Sunsteel passed through the armor like it was paper, punching through the back of the throat. Even as Ra’s feet touched the ground she reversed the stroke, using her momentum to fling the heavy power armor into the air. Trevor tracked its flight, eyes widening as he spied something behind and above it.

  Something massive, with scaly black wings. Trevor had long been a fan of fantasy. He’d spent countless hours devouring novels, watching movies, and playing Dungeons & Dragons. The thing in the air, the thing descending slowly in their direction, was without a doubt a dragon. Of course, the dragons he’d read about didn’t have fifty-caliber machine guns built into their backs.

  It was like a fucking T. Rex with wings, and even as he watched, awful green mist burst from its mouth. Trevor used the blur to scramble out of the way, rolling to the right as the mist sizzled a wide path where he’d been standing. That path continued toward the smoldering remains of the pavilion, where most of his companions were still reacting to the sudden betrayal of Jordan and Wepwawet.

  Fortunately, Osiris saw the danger. He sprinted forward, his passage so swift it kicked up a wind that tore at the remains of Trevor’s pants. Then he leapt, not a human jump, but something superhuman. The kick sent him into the sky like a comet returning to the heavens, and as he rose Osiris summoned the sword he’d taken from Liz. He spun it in a circle until it became a single blur, like a plane’s propellor. He used that to deflect the steady stream of bullets belching from the gun set into the dragon’s back.

  Then he was past the machine gun’s firing arc, moving faster than it could track. The gleaming golden point of his sword was held above him, and it punched through the underside of the dragon’s jaw with almost no resistance. There was an enormous crunch of bone, and the dragon’s head exploded as Osiris’s body impacted.

  Then the god turned to mist, hovering in the air as the decapitated dragon plummeted to the ground. It struck with titanic force, the box of ammunition on its lower back exploding spectacularly. The crash was loud enough to be heard over the din of explosions and painful cries arising throughout the camp. Trevor looked around him, realizing several things at once. There were three more dragons in the sky, and dozens of smaller bat-like creatures as well. There was also a wall of muscular demons tearing through Ra’s undead. It was a perfect ambush, and it was destroying their ability to fight before they even realized they were in battle.

  “To me,” Ra roared, launching herself into the air. Like Osiris, she hovered above the earth, a faint green glow suffusing her skin. Her hair whipped around her like a million tiny snakes, writhing about almost with a will of their own. “Gather to me!”

  Isis didn’t respond, instead seizing Jordan’s armor by one wrist. She whirled around as if throwing a discus, then released Jordan. He shot through the air towards a knot of demons nearly a hundred yards away. His armored form slammed into two, crushing both as he rolled into the dust. Trevor doubted Jordan was dead, but the commander didn’t rise.

  Liz had shifted as well, and held Blair’s mangled body protectively as she stood behind Isis. Blair was already beginning to heal, but it looked like he was out of the fight in the short term. Neither Irakesh nor Steve had emerged from the wreckage of the pavilion, leaving Anubis as the only other member of their party. The jackal drifted into the air, moving to join Ra. His fan axe scythed with an almost casual ease through any demons who came close. That seemed like the safest place to be.

  Trevor ignored the fiery pain of healing, instead willing himself to mist, drifting into the air to join them. He had no idea how they remained solid while hovering there, but now wasn’t a gre
at time to ask. He positioned his cloud between Anubis and Ra, drawing shadows closely about him until he was hidden. He had no illusions as to his place on this battlefield. He, Blair, and Liz were puppies compared to the gods around them. The best thing they could probably do right now was just stay out of the way.

  “Sekhmet,” Isis roared. Trevor looked down to see Isis pointing at something in the distance. He looked that way and found a pair of truly frightening gods marching in their direction. Both were clad in black armor, more what he’d expect a knight to wear than the modern stuff Jordan was using.

  “It’s my brother,” Osiris called, drifting close to Ra. Isis leapt up to join them, hovering just like the others. He’d never seen a werewolf do anything like that, though it made a certain kind of sense. Jordan had used telekinesis. If Isis had the same power, maybe she was lifting herself.

  “There’s no way we can win against him, not here and not now,” Isis said, turning her attention back to the approaching gods. Set walked calmly in their direction, drawing an enormous black sword from a scabbard over his shoulder.

  “My army has already been devastated,” Ra said, nodding in agreement. “We have no choice but to flee, yet I cannot imagine how we’ll manage that. There’s no way he’ll allow us to get away.”

  “Only one thing will keep him from pursuing, mighty Ra,” Anubis rumbled, drawing the attention of the other gods. Trevor wasn’t sure what he meant, but the rest of them looked gravely at the jackal. “Set has ever been prideful, and long has he desired my death. If I stay, he will take time to kill me personally. That will give the rest of you time to flee.”

  “Doing so will weaken us,” Ra said, shooting a concerned glance at Set’s approaching form. They had only moments before his arrival. “I am almost tempted to make a stand here.”

  “That would be beyond foolish,” Osiris snapped, drifting closer to Ra. “We flee. Now. If we die here, then Set wins and the world pays. We must find safety and gather our strength. If that means losing one of our own to do it, then we must make that sacrifice.”

  “Very well,” Ra said. She stretched out a hand and squeezed Anubis’s shoulder. “Fight well, nephew. You will be remembered long after this age.”

  “Trevor,” the jackal said, turning those ancient eyes in his direction. “I will not have time to finish my teaching. Tell Anput why I must dishonor myself so, and see that she learns the nature of my death.”

  That surprised him. The idea that Anubis would trust him with anything seemed odd. The jackal had made it clear at every point that he detested Trevor, yet here he was asking a favor that would have been better left to Ra. These people were damned strange.

  “I’ll tell her,” Trevor said, dropping the shadows. “Good luck, Anubis.”

  Anubis nodded once, then glided to the ground. He casually dispatched a pair of the tall muscular demons, then turned to wait for Set.

  “Are we sure this is going to be enough for us to get away? What about Set’s troops?” Trevor asked. The dragons had finished with Ra’s army, and were heading their way.

  “Do not concern yourself,” Osiris said, giving him a crooked smile. “I have just the thing for the fodder.”

  Osiris looked skyward, and Trevor followed his gaze. Something twinkled above them. Whatever it was, it was getting larger quickly. At first he thought it was a meteor, but then he recognized it.

  “Holy shit,” Trevor said, looking at Osiris. “You’re using the Skyhammer, aren’t you?”

  60

  Last Stand

  Anubis twirled his fan-bladed axe in lazy arcs as he waited for Set to approach. The ebony-armored figure walked slowly toward him, despite the fact that he could have blurred across the distance in the space between heartbeats. It was hardly surprising; Set loved theatrics.

  Dragons? Anubis thought with a chuckle. Seriously? Each took centuries to grow and consumed an enormous amount of flesh daily. They were notoriously difficult to keep and, while they were impressive in combat, a god of any decent age could best one easily. They were hardly worth the effort. Yet Set had a fondness for them.

  Anubis glanced up as a sudden downdraft tickled his fur. For a moment he thought one of the dragons was attacking, but all three had passed him in pursuit of Ra and her companions. The wind came from a strange glittering object that plunged from the heavens like a star.

  A molten hunk of metal the size of a small mountain screamed to the earth, catching all three dragons. The first creature took the full brunt of the blast and was crushed easily. The other two were caught in the wake, knocked spinning from the air like lions kicked by an elephant.

  Anubis laughed, a warm hearty laugh. Little had impressed him in this new world, but it seemed these moderns had invented at least a few interesting weapons. He turned toward Set, who’d paused in his approach to study the carnage where his dragons had been. Anubis couldn’t see his face, but he imagined it locked into a rictus of rage, and that pleased him.

  “How many more dragons do you have, Set?” Anubis taunted, walking slowly toward the demonic god. Ra was safe now. Set and his terrible wife Nephthys wouldn’t pursue so long as Anubis lived, and by the time Set killed him Ra would long since have fled.

  “Don’t goad me, jackal,” Set snapped, his armored visor turning to focus on Anubis. His eyes were twin pools of flat black, utterly alien. What had he done to himself? “Your death will be painful as it is, but if you push me I will keep you alive for centuries. I will make you eat your own entrails. You will beg for death, whimpering like the cowardly animal you resemble.”

  “We’ve battled before, Set. Have you forgotten? Perhaps if you removed the helmet occasionally you could see the scar I gave you all those millennia ago,” Anubis taunted, enjoying it perhaps more than he should.

  “Ah, I forget,” Set said, barking out a sudden laugh. He reached up with both hands, removing the demonic helm and tucking it under one arm.

  All mirth crumbled to ash. Set had been handsome once, perhaps the most handsome of all the gods, excepting only Osiris. The only thing marring that had been the single scar on his right cheek, a wound Anubis had the dubious honor of having given him. The scar was gone. Everything that had made Set human was gone.

  A bulbous head of ashen grey housed eyes of flat black, and Anubis found his death reflected there. Set smiled, a sea of shark fangs glittering as he spoke. “You’ve slumbered for thirteen millennia, jackal. I have not. See the changes the Builders have wrought. See what I have become, the power I now wield.”

  “What are you?” Anubis took a cautious step backwards.

  “You ask the wrong question,” Set said, stepping forward with a terrible smile. “What am I becoming? The progeny of the Builders have shared much with me. I am being shaped into their image, so that I might join the Builders when they return. All that I do, I do to further the return.”

  “As a slave?” Anubis growled, spitting in the dust at Set’s feet.

  “Oh, no,” Set corrected, taking a step closer. He waved a hand dismissively, and Nephthys retreated to a safe distance. “As an overseer. I will enslave mankind to my will. All will become demons, an extension of my mind. Those who do not will be slain. I will present a vast army to the Builders upon their return, to execute their will in reshaping this world.”

  Prudence said Anubis should have let Set come to him, that he should have waited as long as possible to prolong the battle. Yet he could not. Everything in him cried out to end the abomination before him. He charged, executing a hundred-blade attack.

  Countless images burst from him, each a perfect mirror, down to the fan-bladed axe. The images attacked from a hundred directions. Only one was real, but to deal with that attack the victim had to be able to pick out the real Anubis. It had been precisely this attack that had given Set the scar all those centuries ago.

  Set simply vanished. A hundred copies of Anubis struck nothing but empty air. He took a moment to regain his balance, then began to spin. Set was behind h
im, and he was already attacking. His gauntleted fist punched through Anubis’s chest, ripping out his heart.

  Anubis stumbled back, propping himself up with his axe. As a deathless he no longer had a heart that beat, but the blow still staggered him. He expected Set to press the attack, but instead the abomination began eating his heart. Slowly, as if relishing a great treat.

  Anubis roared, blurring toward Set in a fury. This time his attack was unsubtle, but as fast as he could make it. As expected, Set disappeared again. This time Anubis studied the movement. He wasn’t blurring. He was in one place, then he was in another. Just like a vampire.

  Again Anubis attacked, a powerful strike, as fast as he could make it. Again Set teleported, laughing this time. That laughter ended when Anubis drove his axe backwards, ramming the second axe head through Set’s chest. Armor crunched, twisting as the Sunsteel found flesh.

  He capitalized on the attack, swinging a clawed hand at Set’s still exposed face. He felt a moment’s elation, but then Set’s jaw distended. His mouth opened impossibly wide, and he struck like a snake, snapping his jaws around Anubis’s outstretched hand. There was a moment’s pain, then Anubis fell back with a roar as he stared at the stump where his hand had been.

  Set gave him no quarter, driving brutally forward. He slammed a gauntleted hand into Anubis’s jaw, shattering it and knocking him backward. Set snatched Anubis’s fan axe out of the air, whirling it over his own head once, then down in a low sweep. The move severed both Anubis’s legs at the knees, spilling his mangled body to the dusty earth.