by Chris Fox
63
Found You
Nox winged silently over the jungle, hugging the treetops as he passed into another valley. Behind him flitted a dozen shadows, invisible to all but him. He could feel them, through the demonic link he’d forged. Only Kali was exempt to that, lurking somewhere in the darkness. He hated not knowing where she was.
He’d have preferred to come alone, but the chance of encountering champions was too great. The search had taken over two weeks, a slow spiral ever deeper into the jungle. His pattern was meticulous, and at long last it had borne fruit.
A deep thrumming came from the valley below, and he could smell the power down there. Nox smiled, dropping silently into the canopy. He glided toward the jungle floor, his many shadows following.
Nox gestured, and three winged demons emerged from the shadows, visible to anyone or anything that might lurk below.
As expected, a Ka-Ken lunged from the shadows. She landed on the demon’s back, riding him to the jungle floor. Bone cracked with the impact, and the female began tearing at the demon’s gut. She tore through his thick hide, ripping out a handful of entrails.
The demon screamed, struggling futilely to escape.
Nox drifted silently down, extending his right hand. He willed his weapon to emerge. A pool of dark metal flowed into his palm, elongating into a wickedly curved blade. The demonsteel vibrated faintly, anxious to taste another essence. It wasn’t alive, exactly, but it hungered all the same.
So Nox fed it. He rammed his blade into the unsuspecting female’s spine, pinning her to the ground. His lieutenant wriggled away from her, a trail of blood in his wake. He’d live. The Ka-Ken wouldn’t.
Nox willed the demonsteel to drink, mouth opening in pleasure as power flowed into him. A heady mixture of memory, ability, and raw energy. Nox continued to drink until the lifeless husk tumbled to the wet earth, then he willed his blade back into his body, bringing himself back to his surroundings. Shadows had landed all around them, but no other threat had presented itself. Could they really have only one sentry?
“Fan out through the jungle,” Nox ordered, just loudly enough for the others to hear. “Find the portal, and encircle it.”
His words were swallowed by the hum of the jungle, a million insects singing that they existed. The place teemed with life, more so than any other place Nox had visited. He loathed it—loathed the chaos and disorder.
His shadows flowed through the jungle, moving toward the potent energy source near the heart of the valley. Nox flitted after them, careful to allow them to get there first. If there were other sentries, they might include a male. That male could, conceivably, detect them even though they were cloaked in shadow. If that happened, Nox wanted it happening to an underling.
They made amazing time, cloaked by the jungle as they approached the shimmering portal. It was far larger than Nox had expected, which would make his task even easier. If he’d had to assault the city sending in two people at a time that would have been problematic, but as it stood he could send an entire battalion all at once.
He studied the city on the other side of the portal. Golden pyramids stretched into the distance. The place was massive, though not so massive as a Great Ark. Not unless those pyramids extended a lot further underground than he expected.
A few figures walked leisurely down the wide marble thoroughfares, mostly between a trio of pyramids near the city center. Nox glided closer, stopping less than a dozen feet from the portal. He could feel his warriors around him, ready to spring into action should a threat present itself. None did. It appeared that the sole guardian of the portal had been the jungle sentry. If that kind of mistake was indicative of the defender’s caliber, he strongly suspected this would be over very quickly.
Nox mentally ordered ten of the shadows through the portal, holding his breath as they passed through. If there was an alarm or countermeasure, this would be what triggered it. Nothing happened. None of the champions seemed to react. They continued into the largest pyramid, moving with the same unhurried pace. Nox was cautiously optimistic. He stepped through the portal, moving swiftly toward the edge.
A massive golden obelisk stood at the very edge of the portal. Immense power flowed through it, into the portal. Nox crouched next to it, obscured from the rest of the city by the obelisk. “This appears to be the emitter. Kali, head to the opposite side and set up the modulator.”
Kali knew what to do, so Nox focused on his own task. He removed a wide demonsteel box from his pack, ordering his shadows to do the same. They materialized around him, winged demons who matched his own form—his children, in a way—and began silently erecting the modulator, affixing it to the side of the obelisk.
Nox stepped back into the shadows. He watched the city, but there was still no visible response. Their work would take another few minutes, and when it was complete the invasion could begin. The werewolves had concentrated their forces at the jungle’s edge. There was no army in this city, just a small enclave.
In a matter of hours, the city would be his.
64
Council Meeting
Jordan squared his shoulders, walking proudly into the coliseum. Every member of the council, and every other werewolf in the city, seemed to be in attendance. They lined the lowest rows of the golden seats, all watching him with a mixture of curiosity and animosity. The curious faces were mostly young, and he recognized quite a few from his meeting with Awa.
The council was arrayed across a wide dais, each councilor seated on a golden throne. Jesus, the Builders had loved gold. The council watched him with varying degrees of hostility, clearly waiting for him to find a seat. The only friendly face was Awa, and he was watching Leti, of course.
“Where you choose to sit will occasion a great deal of comment,” Leti whispered without facing him. She walked a half-step behind, allowing him to pick their destination.
Jordan scanned the crowd one more time. Most of the seats in the first row were taken, though he might be able to squeeze in. He could sit in the second row, but suspected that doing so would lose him some face.
What would his rebellious young supporters most appreciate?
“Follow me,” Jordan muttered. He walked toward the dais, pausing at the edge. He drew a sliver of power from his link to the Ark. Molding the air around himself and Leti was simple. In a moment, he had created two chairs that shimmered like a desert mirage.
Jordan sat, and gestured for Leti to do the same. She did, though Jordan noticed that she avoided looking at the council.
Jordan had purposely placed the chairs opposite the council, highlighting the adversarial role he knew they were about to play. It had the desired effect. Elia’s eyes blazed, but it was Davina who spoke. She made a great production of it, gesturing expansively to everyone around them. “You mock our ways in front of all. This, on the heels of defying our decree that the deathless were to be kept in isolation. The meeting has not even begun, and already you are disrupting it. Do you delight in chaos, Ark Lord? Or are you merely that contemptuous of our ways?”
Jordan risked a glance at the crowd. More faces were growing hostile. Davina had chosen an excellent opening gambit. No one liked seeing their faith mocked, not even the young, rebellious types. This wasn’t starting out well. He needed to recover some ground.
“Who appointed you as matron and councilor, Davina?” Jordan asked. It was a risk, as he didn’t know the answer. He strongly suspected it, however.
Davina’s eyes narrowed, and she stared hard at Jordan. “I am not on trial here, nor are our ways. If necessary, I can have you removed from these proceedings.”
“You’ve taken the time to have all your people come to witness this. Let them see how their leadership works. Are you transparent? Or are you a tyrant? Pick. You can’t be both.” Jordan leaned back in his chair, waiting.
“Very well, we’ll play your little game, outsider. No one elected me to the council. I was the first found worthy by the city, and I founded
the council with those who followed.” Davina’s confidence was undiminished.
“So, you found the city,” Jordan said mildly. “The next four people who found it were also considered important. Everyone who found it after that is less important, right? They’re not worthy of a voice on your council?”
Whispers rippled through the audience.
“Silence,” Elia roared. She rose to her feet, and the crowd subsided. Elia glared around her, sitting only when there was complete silence. She waved at Davina to continue.
“Thank you, Elia.” Davina nodded graciously. She rose magnanimously from her throne, turning in a slow circle as she addressed the audience. “The council is guided by our strongest members. It has always been so, and is as the Mother willed. Did she not say that only the strongest rule?”
Leti’s clear voice rang out through the room. “Did she not also say that compassion is what separates us from the ancient enemy?” She rose from the invisible chair, also addressing the crowd. “Did she not stress the importance of wisdom, the danger of hubris? Of her own mistakes? Each time Isis faltered, it was because she believed herself above others. She admits this, though we don’t often like to talk about it. If this council is fixed, if we do not listen to the voices of the people, then we make the same mistake she did.”
“Speaker, may I address the floor?” Elia asked. She nodded deferentially toward Davina.
“Of course, Councilor,” Davina said. She returned to her chair and sat.
Leti strode back to hers as well.
Elia rose, walking to the middle of the floor before she spoke. “Ark Lord Jordan brings change. At first, I was frightened by this change. After all, he possesses power that we do not. He stands higher in the Mother’s grace than we. The Ark Lord is powerful. Yet, as Leti reminds us, even the most powerful are fallible. Power does not make us immune to mistakes. I am certain that the Ark Lord means well, but he has no idea the threat he has leveled at our culture, at everything we have built here.”
Elia raised her arms, turning slowly. Every eye was fixed on her, many in rapture.
Jordan could feel the subtle signal emitting from the bracelet, though no one in the audience seemed to react to it.
“Let us tend to the matter that brought us here today, the fate of the deathless. Once that has been dealt with, we can adjourn to discuss the weighty matters that sister Leticia has put before us. If there are truly those who feel disenfranchised, we will see your concerns addressed. Just not right now. Not as a distraction used by the Ark Lord to protect the ancient enemy. Let us show the deliberate patience the Mother advises.”
Jordan knew he’d lost them. This side of Elia was new, and he suddenly understood how she’d amassed so much power. Somehow, she’d casually derailed Leticia’s argument, quashing the crowd’s anger. Part of that was no doubt related to the bracelet, but only part. She’d spoken masterfully, and probably would have succeeded even without the aid of shaping.
“I’m amicable to that,” Jordan said. “Let’s discuss the fate of my friends—but if we’re going to do that, I’d like to remind you that they’re directly tied to the fate of this city.”
All eyes were on him again, but this time nearly every gaze was filled with animosity. He was breaking protocols he knew nothing about, and Elia was using that to her advantage.
“I assure you that I don’t like chaos,” he said, “nor am I contemptuous of your ways. I’m doing what the Mother would want me to do: protecting this city. Many people in this room are males; there are enough of us to mindshare. I am happy to show you my encounters with her, the encounters that Elia and Leticia have already seen. You want to see what’s lurking out there, the danger that might be approaching even now? Let me show you.”
“If that danger is real, then of course we will address it,” Davina said. She looked contemptuously at Jordan. “You say you respect our ways. If you do, you’ll remove yourself from this stage. You will allow us to conduct our business, and wait until you are recognized before speaking.”
“Nah,” Jordan said. He closed his eyes, feeling the cluster of minds surrounding him.
Jordan reached into his memory, beginning with the day he’d first put on the demon armor. He broadcast that memory to the audience, conscious of the gasps and cries as his shaping pushed outwards.
He showed them Mohn Corp. gathering to fight, the battle outside the First Ark. He showed them Set’s power, and everything he’d seen of the last confrontation.
“That’s what we’re facing, people. An army of demons capable of overwhelming this place.”
“What you have shown us is most troubling,” Elia said. Again she rose to her feet. She spoke directly the crowd, who stared at her in near rapture. “These demons are a real threat, but let me remind you all that we have safely contained that threat. Nox’s forces push all along the border, and all along the border our bravest champions push them back. The spirits of the jungle assist us, and we keep that enemy at bay. These demons must be stopped, clearly, but they are hardly the imminent threat the so called Ark Lord would have you believe. Now, will you leave the stage, or must we attempt to remove you by force?”
“I’ll leave,” Jordan began, “but before I go let me say this.” He rose, taking in the audience the same way both Leticia and Elia had done. “You have no idea who we are dealing with. I knew Nox as a mortal, before all this happened. I’ve never met a more canny, more devious person. If you think you’re winning against Nox, you can be certain you aren’t. We might not see the blow coming, but it is. We are all in danger.”
Jordan leapt into the stands, landing in an unoccupied section in the third row. Leticia joined him a moment later. She avoided looking at him, eyes downcast. He couldn’t blame her.
“Now then, on to the more pressing business,” Davina said. She clasped her hands behind her back, giving the crowd a grandmotherly smile. “We must discuss the issue of the deathless brought to our city. Ark Lord Jordan claims they are allies. The scriptures, however, are clear. The ancient enemy can never be trusted, even when it appears we have common goals. I will serve as arbiter in this matter. Who wishes to present arguments?”
Jordan stood, waiting for Davina to acknowledge him. Instead, the elder turned smugly to Elia. “You wish to present an argument, Councilor?”
“I do,” she said, nodding graciously. “Having just been impressed with the gravity of the situation with the demons, I understand why the Ark Lord might consider working with the ancient enemy. Wait, wait…hear me out.” She raised a hand to forestall the crowd, who’d begun to mutter. “We need allies, and our world has been overrun with deathless. Is it not natural then, to seek them out? Can we then not see how someone could do something so misguided, but do it from a rational, understandable place?”
The crowd was eating out of her hand. Many were nodding, and more than a few darted sympathetic looks Jordan’s way.
“And what if the possibility exists that he is right? What if they could be useful? For that reason, I suggest a course of moderation. Just as we did with the interloper, we imprison the deathless. They are not allowed to leave, which risks carrying knowledge of the sacred city. Yet neither should we kill them, not if the possibility exists that they might become allies.”
The applause was thunderous.
65
It Begins
Nox placed one hand on the modulator, and pointed toward Kali’s end of the portal with the other. Both modulators had been set up, and both seemed to be working. Now it was time to redirect the portal.
A beam of dark energy shot from Nox’s hand, arcing toward Kali several hundred yards distant. A similar bolt shot from her hand, and the two met in the middle. There was an explosion just beyond hearing, then a wave of crackling black energy rippled out from both obelisks.
The portal flickered, and when it stabilized it showed an entirely different vista.
Instead of the lush jungle that Nox had labored to pass through it now showed
his forward command base in Brasilia. Rank upon rank of demonic troops stood waiting for orders.
Ahead of them was a line of something special Vulcan had cooked up: the Rottweiler. It was a four legged robot with an energy cannon mounted on the back. If gunning down an opponent failed, the claws were lethal enough to take down champion or deathless alike.
Clustered around the Rottweilers were scores of hellhounds, hairless beasts with dark hides. They had once been dogs, but Hades had reshaped them into tireless killers who hunted in packs. Their skin was thick enough to stop a rifle round, and they were fast enough that they might just dodge that bullet to begin with. By themselves, they weren’t much of a threat, but given time, an entire pack could overwhelm a Ka-Ken.
Those were all shock troops, of course. The real combatants were the demons themselves. Over the past five years, Nox had done a great deal of experimentation. He’d corrupted werewolves, deathless, and vampire alike. Each retained their parent abilities, but gained the benefits of being a demon as well. That meant they were stronger and tougher, more resistant to shaping.
All demons, regardless of parentage, had some traits in common. Each had a pair of horns curling from their forehead, and ragged bat wings. A thick tail curled behind them, itself a weapon most foes underestimated. They ranged in height from about eight feet to a full twelve, and every last demon was thickly muscled.
Towering over the winged demons were a trio of demonic Anakim, what Vulcan had termed Demokim. Each stood forty-five feet tall, and had thick, black demonic hide. Enormous demonsteel plates had been woven into their skin over vital areas, and their right arms had been replaced with massive beam cannons, another of Vulcan’s inventions. They’d not yet been battle tested, but Nox was confident they could dominate the battlefield if the werewolves put up significant resistance.