by Chris Fox
Carter’s lust was overpowering, but a morsel of caution remained. “What will the blood do to me?”
Nox uncoiled like a serpent, his tail wrapping around Carter’s neck. It yanked him closer, and Nox used one massive arm to pin Carter in place. He forced his palm against Carter’s mouth. “Here. I’ll show you exactly what it does.”
Fire raced through Carter, a fire that Blair recognized. It was the same he’d felt when he’d grasped the Mother’s hand. The hand had infected him with the werewolf virus. Nox had just infected Carter with a similar virus, something that seemed to be overwriting his deathless nature.
“Tonight will be rough, but in the morning you will feel much better. You’ll be aware of the new strength I’ve given you, as well as the link between us. I can find you anywhere, Carter, never forget that. You belong to me.”
Blair fled from the memory. Carter had been a pawn of Hades, right here in his backyard. Worse, Nox might be aware of Blair’s arrival. It was a troubling possibility, but Blair let it go for now. Sifting memories was valuable, but he needed to deal with Carter and his deathless council.
Blair glided deeper into Carter’s mind. In the distance he saw a massive figure, and he recognized it instantly. It was Carter’s Risen, and in a few moments it was going to attack him. Blair didn’t give it a chance. He crossed the space between them easily, shaping a net of energy as he approached. Then he released the net, entangling the Risen. It began to shrink, growing smaller and smaller until it was no larger than an emaciated mouse.
“What did you do to it?” Carter whispered. He appeared near Blair, looking like a human in his late twenties. He looked normal—handsome even.
“It doesn’t matter,” Blair said. He turned toward Carter, and raised a hand. “You won’t be around to see it.”
And energy flooded from Blair, obliterating Carter’s mind.
30
Mercy
Melissa had known it was a mistake to antagonize Blair. She cringed when he withdrew the staff, its power stronger than the sun itself. She could feel the vast reservoir of power he was pulling through it, more than she’d ever seen shaped before. It made everything she’d done, everything she’d learned, seem like first grade basics.
Carter was powerful, suspiciously so. He’d been nothing but a two-bit lord, unremarkable in all ways. Then suddenly he’d exploded in strength, toppling the then-lord of Palo Alto and claiming the city for his own.
Melissa had no idea where Carter had found his power, but it wasn’t even on the same scale as the energies Blair wielded.
She tried to blur, but even as she fueled her abilities the conflict was over. Carter slumped to the desk, eyes glassy and unseeing. Then Melissa was slammed onto the floor, along with every other deathless in the room. The pressure cracked one of her ribs, and she cried out in pain. It was strong enough that she wouldn’t have been able to rise, but she didn’t even try. The last thing she wanted was to draw Blair’s attention.
Footsteps rustled against the carpet as Blair slowly approached. He stopped right next to her, squatting low enough to peer into her face. “Hello, Melissa. You’re not my favorite person in the world, did you know that? You lied to me about Angel Island. You didn’t tell me that you wiped out my people, and drove the few survivors north. Why is that?”
“I-I didn’t want to poison relations,” Melissa pleaded. Another rib cracked, and she cried out. “Please! I knew how Liz would react, how you might react. You said it yourself: it’s a larger world and we’re going to need allies. I didn’t want to jeopardize that.”
“So you omitted some very important facts,” Blair said.
The pressure on Melissa vanished.
“This is the bitch that attacked us that night,” the teenage Ka-Ken said. She stalked over to Melissa, glaring down at her. “Tell me we’re going to kill her. To kill them all.”
“We’re going to kill most of them,” Blair said. “But not her. She gets to live, and I’ll tell you why. I’ll tell everyone why.” Blair gestured with his staff, and a pulse of potent golden energy rippled outwards. It washed over Melissa, the other deathless, and out into the city beyond. As it grew, she could feel it touching thousands of minds—then tens of thousands.
Hear me. I am Blair, Lord of the Ark of the Redwood. You are hearing this because you live in the lands surrounding my Ark. I lay claim to the lands currently controlled by those who call themselves the Lords of Silicon Valley. If you live there, you are now one of my vassals.
An image flowed into her mind, overwhelming her own senses. She could no longer see the world; instead she saw as if from Blair’s eyes. His hand came up, and fire poured into every deathless in the room—every deathless except her.
Carter, her rivals, and even her friends burst into white-hot flame. A heartbeat later there was nothing left but ash.
I have removed the former lords. This will no doubt tempt many of you to make a power play, to try to fill their shoes. By all means try, but first I want you to know three things.
First, Melissa, the Lord of San Francisco, just got a promotion. She’s in charge of the entire Bay Area, and she has my full support. Oppose her, and you are opposing me.
Second, this continent belongs to the living. If you encounter a living person, or a champion, they are to be given safe passage north to Santa Rosa. Fail to observe this, and I will find you. Trust me. I will know if you misbehave. The consequences will be dire.
Lastly, I want you to know that there are greater threats in the world than just deathless and werewolves, threats that we will need to stand united against. I have no desire to wipe you out. I’d prefer you as allies. Only you get to choose whether or not that happens. Oppose me, and justice will be swift. Work with me, and there’s no reason we can’t coexist.
Blair’s thundering voice finally stopped, and the power tickling Melissa’s mind disappeared. She was left staring at Blair and his companions. Both Ka-Ken watched Blair in awe, an expression she was probably mirroring.
Melissa rose hesitantly to her feet. “Why did you let me live?”
“I meant what I said,” Blair explained. His staff flowed back up his arm, disappearing into his body. She could feel its power merging with his. “I’m going to need allies. Greater threats are coming, and if you can get the deathless to fight alongside me, you get to live. You have as much free room to maneuver as you’d like. I don’t care who you backstab, or what you have to do to maintain control here. Mark my words, though: if you backstab me in any way, I will simply wipe out every deathless in the Bay Area. All of them.”
“You could really do that, couldn’t you?” Melissa whispered. She felt something between awe and horror. “Trust me, Ark Lord. I will do nothing to jeopardize your support. You give me your mandates, and I promise I will see them enforced.” She meant every word, praying that he would sense her sincerity.
“Good. Then we have an understanding. My people and I are leaving. If you learn something you think I need to know, send a messenger. Otherwise, wait for us to contact you.”
“Yes, Ark Lord,” Melissa said. She gave a deep bow, mustering all the respect she could—respect she felt to her core. Blair was terrifying, but he might be exactly what this new world needed.
31
Yosemite
The Great Bear bent to rip a mouthful of flesh from the deer’s carcass. Feeding brought some small comfort—momentarily at least. Deer were his favorite prey, and he reveled in the hot, salty blood as it dribbled down his fur. The cold didn’t bother him at all, not like it did when he was a man.
Each day he’d woken up in a strange place, further from the mountains he’d called home. During the day, he’d press farther west, toward the town Windigo had demanded he reach. He’d settle down to sleep, waking the next morning as if he hadn’t slept.
The Bear lumbered to a nearby stream, drinking deeply. He studied his reflection as he rose from the water, horrified by what he found. Tiny antlers had sprung from his
temples, the first visible sign of Windigo’s corruption.
It will not be the last. I can promise you that.
“Why do you torment me, demon?” the Bear demanded. He did not understand what was happening, and that terrified him.
Windigo was a target he couldn’t fight.
Remember that, Bear, and perhaps one day I will let you go.
The Bear’s muzzle shot up, sniffing the wind. Power rippled across the land, the kind of power not seen since the days of the earth mother herself. The Bear stood up on his hind paws, staring across the mountains toward the city that men called San Francisco.
“What is that?” he murmured, unable to understand what he was feeling.
That is the power of an Ark Lord, one who wishes everyone in the land to fear him, Windigo answered. It is a blatant display of power, meant to cow all who see it into serving. He is a threat to us both.
“Perhaps this Ark Lord will be strong enough to stop you,” Yosemite roared, smashing a sapling with a titanic paw. “I will not listen to your lies, Windigo. I know you for what you are, remember that. Nothing you say will sway me. I am no pawn. This Ark Lord has no reason to come to my mountains, and is no enemy of mine.”
He soon will be, Windigo taunted, because he is my enemy, and I control you. When I am through using your body, the Ka-Dun will have ample reason to hate you. I can promise that.
“No,” Yosemite snarled. “I will not let you.”
Oh, little Bear. You are so amusing. What makes you think you can stop me?
32
Sobek
Jordan peered out through the windshield. The wipers were working overtime to keep it clear of rain. Lima’s perimeter now had machine gun emplacements at every major checkpoint, each shielded by sandbags. At the closest encampment, Jordan saw a backhoe digging a trench behind the emplacement. He was impressed by how much Rodrigo had accomplished in the week he’d been away.
“The batteries you requested are being installed in those holes,” Rodrigo called over the wind. He pointed down to the encampment Jordan was already watching. “We’ve explained to every champion how they will be used, and they have all begun drills to practice.”
“Very nicely done.” Jordan rarely gave praise, but this was earned. “Is the delegation for Sobek ready?”
Jordan knew he was the last to arrive, but he’d been spending most of his time getting ready for the trek into the jungle. He needed to leave as soon as possible, and that meant he couldn’t give Sobek’s arrival the time and attention it deserved. He’d had to do something he hated: delegate. Fortunately, it looked like Rodrigo had been a good choice.
“They’re assembled. Shall we go there now, Ark Lord? Sobek’s vessel was spotted about twenty minutes ago. It will be here shortly.” Rodrigo gestured at the Jeep, moving to the driver’s side.
“Yeah, let’s get over there,” Jordan answered. He climbed into the Jeep, still marveling over how much of the old world had survived here. From Blair’s brief description, it sounded like Santa Rosa had reverted to Little House on the Prairie levels of tech.
They sped through the nearly empty streets, occasionally passing other Jeeps. Jordan recognized the Asian couple in one, and Alison and her Ka-Dun in another.
“They are on hourly patrols,” Rodrigo explained. He turned onto the broad thoroughfare leading down to the docks. “We have twenty-four hour coverage. The people already feel safer, and the men take more pride in their city. Before, it was about how strong each werewolf was. Now, it is becoming about how strong we all are.”
“That’s the real secret to effective leadership,” Jordan replied. It was a direct quote from the Director. “Teach people to invest in the organization instead of themselves, and they will become the organization.”
“I’m so glad you came to Lima, Ark Lord,” Rodrigo said. He gave a gap-toothed smile as he pulled into a parking spot next to an empty dock. “You are a real leader, sir.”
Jordan barked out a laugh. “I’m just imitating the real leaders.”
The Jeep’s door opened with a groan, and Jordan stepped onto the wet concrete. They’d parked near an empty pier, long enough to contain a cargo hauler the size of the one Sobek was supposed to bring. Rodrigo approached the crowd of people waiting around the edge of the dock, so Jordan followed. Several wore orange raincoats and looked to be dock workers. The rest were dressed like soldiers, and Jordan was surprised to find he recognized all of them. If the downpour bothered them, they certainly didn’t show it.
“Salute your Ark Lord, whelps,” Vimal barked. He snapped to attention, and the others mimicked it almost perfectly.
“At ease,” Jordan said, returning the salute. He strode down the dock, stopping next to the Indian man. “I admit I’m a little surprised. I expected some resentment after our first few sessions together.”
“Not at all, Ark Lord.” Vimal’s dark face had his usual lack of expression. “You’ve shown me the value of cooperation, and demonstrated that you are an able leader. I am proud to follow you.”
Jordan extended a hand, and Vimal shook it. “I’m proud to have you.”
“Ships sighted,” bellowed a voice from above.
Jordan turned to the water, scanning. A cluster of grey specks was approaching through the sheets of rain. He counted eight. That wasn’t a stone shipment. That was a show of force.
“Give me your binoculars,” Jordan said to the closest uniformed werewolf.
Six of the ships were destroyers, the kind of warship that could bombard a shore from miles out. The last two were freighters, each loaded with colorful cargo containers. Those last two vessels were pulling away from the main group, heading toward the dock. The destroyers didn’t approach, but the implied threat was there. The ships were perfectly capable of destroying Lima without closing to visual range. The only reason to get this close was to intimidate. Sobek had a navy and wanted them to know it.
“Attention,” Jordan boomed. The troops fell into line. Jordan glanced at the approaching vessels. They were moving more quickly than he’d have thought possible. “In a few moments Sobek and his delegation will arrive. We will be courteous, but we will not grovel. This is our city, and we’ll defend it with our lives. Show these reptiles the power of the wolf.”
He delivered a tight salute, and the men returned it. They gave a ragged cheer. “Ark Lord!”
Jordan turned back to the boats, waiting patiently as they got closer. They were moving far more quickly than any vessel that size should have been capable of. He couldn’t see any obvious sign of an engine or propeller, so Jordan had no idea what was powering them, until the ships reached the dock. When they were close, Jordan could feel a deep thrum of power coming from each. Those things were powered through shaping.
Of course, Ka-Dun. Such was common during the Mother’s age. Sobek was one of the pioneers of such shaping. Long before the slipsail, mankind plied the waves with wooden vessels.
The boat slowed as it closed with the dock; the last five feet took nearly a full minute. Then the boat finally stopped, and a five-foot-thick rope was tossed over the stern. The dock workers rushed to affix the rope. Once they had, a ramp extended to the dock.
A trio of bipedal crocodiles, more reptile than man, descended. Their skin was scaly and tough, their eyes black and unreadable. Their mouths were full of fangs, and Jordan could see bits of flesh still stuck between them. Not the most hygienic crowd. That was made even more obvious by the stench when they approached.
“Who leads these mongrels?” Sobek boomed in a deep, discordant voice. His tail slapped the deck with a tremendous thud, and several of the champions jumped. Most kept their composure though, making Jordan proud.
“You already know I’m in charge,” Jordan said. He walked calmly to Sobek, ignoring the pair of crocodile warriors flanking him. Up close, the god smelled like rotting fish, bits of which were caught between his numerous teeth. “You can feel the access key, feel the strength I’m drawing from the Ark. A
re you here to posture, Sobek? Isis said you were a petty god. Was she right?”
Sobek balled his scaly fists, stalking closer. He glared down at Jordan, who’d yet to shift to warform. The crocodile gave a low, deep growl. “You do not fear me as the other fools I’ve suffered. You carry yourself like an Ark Lord, and I can sense potential within you. Yet you are a young god, barely old enough to be off Isis’s teat. Why don’t you run and fetch her, so that she and I might discuss matters too important for your ignorant little mind.”
“I think you misunderstand the situation, Sobek,” Jordan retorted. “You are beneath Isis’s notice, and you know that. She has far greater concerns, and doesn’t have time for your posturing. She sent me, because you won’t shut up about the fact that she’s not come to see you personally.” Then he shifted to warform, suddenly standing eye to snout with the crocodile god. “My ignorant little mind is what you’re going to have to deal with—which shouldn’t be that challenging since all you’re here to do is drop off a boat full of rock.”
Sobek’s expression grew, if possible, more unreadable. He studied Jordan with those lifeless black eyes, silent for long moments. “The accord between Isis and I has reached its zenith. In five more years, it ends. Either we strike a new bargain, or we go to war. Isis must know this. Does she value our accord so little that she doesn’t deem me worthy of her time? Is that what you are saying, little wolf? Such disrespect isn’t like her. She was always one for decorum, even with her enemies.”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Jordan said. “She trusts you to keep your end of the accord. When it ends, then she will consider speaking to you. In the meantime, you deal with me.” He crossed his arms, eyeing Sobek with a nonchalance he didn’t feel. “She has other enemies, enemies you’re well aware of. They take precedence.”