by Chris Fox
“Interesting. Who else survived that blast?” Nox asked. He gave an easy smile, but it never reached his eyes.
“You know I’m smarter than that, Nox,” Jordan said. He folded his arms. “However you slice it, you work for Hades. If you were in my position, that would make you an enemy.”
“True, if your politics were from five years ago. A lot has changed since then,” the Director countered. “Trust is a valuable commodity, especially when you’re dealing with a literal demon. I do work for Hades, and I won’t claim he’s a saint. He’s better than the grey men, though. Have you been brought up to speed on them?”
“I’ve heard the name, but I’d hesitate to say I’ve been brought up to speed?” Jordan made it a question, though the Director’s expression made it clear he knew Jordan was trying to change the subject.
“Here’s the short version. The species that preceded us has sent a task force to ready Earth for their return. When these Builders get back, it means the end of the human race. We’ll be exterminated.” Nox gestured at his troops. “I know what this looks like. I’m using the same troops that Set did—demons. Let me be clear, demonology is a science just like every other type of shaping. It’s got a bad rap for a good reason, but it’s still ultimately a tool. Just because I have the same tools Set did, it doesn’t make me evil.”
“So, let’s see if I’m getting all this, sir,” Jordan growled. He leaned in close, looming over Nox. “You serve Hades, who worked alongside Set with these grey men. The Ark in Africa has three of their ships floating over it, right next to Olympus. Are you seriously going to stand there and tell me you’re not in league with the grey men?”
“On the surface, yes,” Nox replied calmly. He stared placidly at Jordan. “Hades works for the grey men, helping them. In secret, we’ve been building an army to resist them. When the time is right—”
“You’ll stop collaborating and save the human race?” Jordan interrupted. “Yeah, there’s no way that can backfire.”
“I had a feeling you’d feel that way.” Nox shook his head sadly. “I’d ask you to surrender, but we both know you won’t. So I’m going to explain how this will go. I’m going to overwhelm your troops, and kill those who resist. Those who survive will become demons, and that will include you. After that process, we’ll speak again. I look forward to having you on my side.”
“You seem awfully confident you’re going to win. You can feel the power in me. I’m an Ark Lord, Mark. I will not go down easily.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Your Ark is hundreds of miles away, weakening the energy you can pull from it.” Nox shrugged, as if none of this mattered. “I’ll give you two minutes to prepare for my assault. Make the best of it.”
77
Modulators
Anput had little choice but to wait for Trevor to make the first move. She’d never been a powerful god, not in the combat sense. She could fight, of course; no one reached her age without being able to defend themselves. But her weapons had always been cunning and seduction.
She surveyed the modulator affixed to the obelisk, but didn’t leave the shadows. Instead, she focused most of her attention on the opposite end of the portal. Eventually Trevor appeared next to the modulator, and just as unsurprisingly a demon leapt on him. Any good commander would mirror that defense at her modulator, meaning that if there was a demon watching hers it was likely by itself.
One demon she could take. Anput summoned a simple illusion of herself stepping from the shadows to kneel next to the modulator. Claws raked from the shadows, passing through the illusion. Anput raised her boomerang, channeling as much power into it as she could. The blast took the demon in the back, knocking its smoking form to the ground.
The corrupted Ka-Ken’s tail snaked around her leg, yanking her from her feet. She fell with a cry, trying to escape the much stronger demon. Her adversary rolled onto her, pinning her. Fangs descended toward her face, but Anput blurred. She readied a teleport, but before she could execute it a wave of brilliant light burst from the bracelet Percy had given her.
The Ka-Ken scrambled away with a shriek, pawing at her eyes. “What did you do? I can’t see.”
Anput swiftly raised her boomerang and disintegrated the demon’s face. Plumes of disgusting smoke clogged the area around the obelisk, and she had to wave it away with her arms to make out the dark metal box.
“Now how do I get inside of that thing?” she muttered. Anput placed a hand on the metal, probing it with a signal. The housing blocked it, meaning that it probably served as a shield for the delicate inner workings. She might be able to tear off the panel, but it was unclear what kind of effect that might have.
“Well, one way to find out, I suppose.”
Anput seized the housing with both arms and tugged. She groaned, pulling with all of her strength. There was a tremendous popping sound, and she tumbled onto her backside, box in her lap. The portal flickered wildly between the jungle and the tarmac. Anput leapt triumphantly to her feet, allowing the box to tumble to the ground. She considered studying it, but they had more urgent matters to deal with.
Still, she couldn’t just leave it, or Nox might be able to establish the portal.
After a moment’s consideration, Anput used her boomerang to vaporize it. Only a slick sheen of oily ash remained on the marble. That dealt with, she stepped into the shadows and blurred toward the opposite side of the portal. Trevor was still there, crouching next to his box. His eyes were closed, and she could feel him broadcasting a complex series of signals into the box. She zoomed closer, stopping in the shadows near Trevor.
“My modulator is gone,” Anput breathed near Trevor’s ear, “and I think that was enough to render the portal unusable. We need to get out of here before Nox sends a team to investigate. It won’t take the scouts long to report to him.” She took several hasty steps backward, conscious that even now demons could lurk in the shadows around them.
“I just need another minute,” Trevor muttered. He placed a hand against the side of the box, and the metal heated at his touch. The angry red glow continued to grow, until hot drips of metal washed down the side of the device. A hole appeared, and Trevor gave one of those infuriatingly boyish smiles. Then he adopted a look of concentration, broadcasting a dizzying array of signals through the hole he’d created.
Anput studied the signals, trying to ascertain what he was doing. Their goal had been to close Nox’s portal, which removing the second modulator would clearly do. So what the hell was Trevor trying to accomplish? She peered over his shoulder at the device’s internals. If she understood what she was seeing, the modulator tapped into the portal’s coordinate system somehow.
Then she realized what he was doing. “Where are you shifting the portal?”
“Well,” Trevor said, peering into the box, “I’m betting that this thing has a massive range. Possibly global. You and Jordan both agree that we can’t beat the demons on our own. We need an army, and I think I might know where we can find one.”
78
Yosemite
The pack filled Blair with awe. It swept across the hills, following Windigo’s trail unerringly forward. They picked up a hundred different signs, from the blood to cracked branches. The chase led them on, and within minutes they’d reached the Russian River. Blair was shocked. It was a half-hour drive to cover the same distance, and the blur had brought hundreds of enhanced dogs in a fraction of the time.
A lanky greyhound began baying, and others took up the call, barking and howling, sprinting down Armstrong Woods Road toward the state park. It was a place Blair knew better than his own apartment. He’d spent countless hours exploring miles of trails, listening to audiobooks and pretending that he’d do great things some day.
Blair accelerated, zipping through the giant redwoods. He followed the pack, who were bolting through the underbrush toward the amphitheater. Blair caught a flash of auburn, and blurred even faster. Time slowed as he zoomed toward the stage. Liz was crouched over W
indigo, her curved golden blade pinning him to the stone. Pulses of sickly scarlet energy, made lazy by his blur, flowed up the sword into Liz.
It wasn’t too late.
“Liz, stop!” Blair yelled. “Don’t kill him.” He landed a few feet away, trying to get her attention.
She blinked, then slowly looked up at him. Her eyes flared red, a supernaturally imposed rage overpowering her. Then she took a deep breath, and grimaced like she’d eaten something sour. She blinked several times, and her eyes returned to normal. “I was going to drink his essence, just like I did Cyntia, and Wepwawet.”
“That’s exactly what he wants, Liz.” Blair extended a hand toward Windigo, feeling his aura. Subject 3199 was still broadcasting some sort of signal, aimed directly at Liz. She seemed to be resisting it, but the signal hadn’t slackened since he’d arrived. “He’s shaping you, right now. If you kill him, he’ll invade your mind and take over. That’s how he jumps bodies.”
“Oh. Well, that seems like a terrible idea.” Liz rammed her sword deeper into Windigo’s shoulder, pinning him more firmly to the stone. “I’m going to take just a little more energy, to make sure he doesn’t give us any fun surprises while we figure out how to deal with him.”
“How are you resisting me?” Windigo hissed through clenched fangs. “Why won’t you break?”
“Are you even serious?” Liz asked. Her fist rabbited forward, knocking Windigo’s skull against the stone with a sharp crack. “I dealt with the Master’s committee at Florida State. If their bullshit couldn’t get me to lose my temper, your amateur-hour crap isn’t going to cut it.”
Blair laughed. “See? This is why I love you.”
“Plus, you think I’m hot,” Liz pointed out. She seized Windigo’s head, then snapped off his remaining antler. “So how are we going to deal with this asshole? I think I may like him even less than I liked Steve.”
“I think I have an idea about that.” Blair squatted next to Windigo. “The key gives me a lot of leverage. I’m going to reach into Windigo’s mind, and see if the Bear is alive in there somewhere.”
“Be careful.” Liz moved to put her head against his chest. She gave him a quick squeeze. “He’s tricky, remember that.”
“I will be,” Blair said, and meant it.
He visualized the mental dagger, thrusting at Windigo’s skull. The creature’s defenses were considerable, but the force provided by the key was more than sufficient. He slipped past Windigo’s defenses, into the strangest mind he’d ever encountered.
The landscape was a simple, rich forest. Granite jutted between stands of pine and redwood, backed by a clear blue sky. Overhead an eagle wheeled, crying its defiance. The wind carried the scent of rotting flesh, sharp enough to sting Blair’s eyes. He shifted to wolf form, loping through the trees toward the stench. It grew worse, and was overpowering by the time he arrived at the meadow.
The corpse of a large black kodiak lay in the sun, an army of flies roosting in sunken eye sockets. As Blair approached, the kodiak twitched, then jerked violently erect. Something began to bore its way through the Bear’s skull; spits of bone emerged from either temple. They grew swiftly, branching into a pair of misshapen antlers.
“The Bear is dead,” the corpse rumbled. “I have swallowed his mind. He was a simple creature, simpler than your species, which is saying a great deal.”
“You’ve been alive a very long time, Subject 3199.” Blair approached the Bear slowly, keeping his defenses up. He didn’t know what Windigo was capable of, beyond the little he’d learned from Ka.
“Where did you hear that name?” The Bear lumbered forward, rising onto its hind legs and flexing its claws. Its arms elongated, and its furry body grew ever more emaciated.
“I know all about you,” Blair said. “About your creation and your abilities.” He shifted into warform, eye to eye with Windigo. “You know I’m an Ark Lord, that I have control of the same forces used to birth you in the first place.”
“If you had the power to destroy me, you already would have.” Windigo relaxed onto his haunches. The stench was intense, even from ten feet away. “I think you lack the strength, little pup.”
“You’re still hoping to bait me into devouring you, aren’t you?” Blair gave a hearty laugh. “Six months ago, maybe you could have. But I’m not that guy anymore, Windigo. You’re just a footnote—a villain no one will remember. I know you’ve survived for millions of years, but that ends today.”
“You genuinely believe that. I sometimes forget how arrogant your species can be.” The Bear’s rotting face somehow managed smug.
Blair felt a moment’s hesitation. Was there anything, absolutely anything, he was missing about this situation? A way that Windigo could turn the tables? Blair didn’t think so.
He extended a hand, and chains erupted from the ground. They swarmed over Windigo like snakes, yanking it to the granite. Every limb was pinned; struggle as it might, the twisted thing was unable to free itself.
“Maybe we are arrogant. Maybe I need the help of a different species.” Blair turned from the dead bear, shifting back to wolf form as he loped up the hillside. He needed a better vantage point.
“Wait,” Windigo called, naked desperation in its voice. “There is much I can tell you, much you don’t know about the species that created the Ark. I know why they left. I know when they will return. There’s much I can tell you if—”
Blair kept moving, ignoring Windigo as its voice faded into the distance. It was possible he could learn from Windigo, but some creatures were too dangerous to deal with. Irakesh and Steve had taught him that lesson. Blair wasn’t risking it. He needed to remove Windigo from the world, and he needed to do it before Windigo figured a way out of the situation.
It didn’t take long to reach the summit, a thick spire of granite that jutted over the valley below. It looked familiar, but Blair couldn’t place it. He turned slowly in a circle, pausing when he spotted a familiar landmark. Was that the back of Half Dome? That made this Cloud’s Rest. Below him lay a shimmering blue lake, the kind too virgin to have ever known the touch of man. Tenaya Lake?
A massive California grizzly prowled along the shore, wading into the water in search of fish. A silver-haired woman approached, tiny beside the massive Bear. A golden staff with a familiar scarab tip was clutched in her right hand. She gestured at the Bear, and the creature looked up curiously from the water. Blair thought the expression comical, especially on a creature that large. He could feel the energy washing over it as Isis shaped the Bear. He studied the signal, but it was impossibly complex. Isis wielded the key with casual skill, and Blair had no idea what she was doing.
The shaping went on for long minutes, altering the Bear at a genetic level. When Isis was finished, the Bear stood erect. It looked down at hands now graced with opposable thumbs.
She’d shaped it into something resembling a werewolf, but ursine in nature. A werebear, Blair decided to call it.
Time accelerated below, and Blair watched as seasons unfolded. Isis stayed with this Bear, teaching him. She showed him the ways of man, in time introducing him to a local tribe. The Bear was accepted into that tribe. He was given a name. The Great Bear. Yosemite, in their language. Blair leaned against the granite as the implications spilled over him, the sudden understanding of where Miwok myth must have begun.
Yosemite’s children spread across the mountains, settling much of the Sierras. They lived in small, isolated villages. They weren’t warlike, or interested in conquest. Years continued to roll by, and Yosemite grew larger and larger. He spent less and less time among men, keeping to the wilds. Finally, centuries after his birth, Isis left the Great Bear. Blair could feel the hole in the Bear’s heart, the loss of his mother. He could feel the jealous rage as her attention turned to her newest creation.
Isis had forsaken the Bear, in favor of the wolf. Blair experienced the loss as if it were his own, and he empathized with the Bear. He understood why Yosemite was so full of rage, why
he’d attacked Yukon when the pack had entered his territory. Yosemite had been abandoned, left to wonder endlessly what he’d done to drive his mother away. Why she’d chosen another.
Blair had seen enough. He concentrated, warping the fabric of the Great Bear’s mind. It was different than a person’s, more malleable in many ways. He could see why Windigo had overcome Yosemite so quickly. Blair entered the Bear’s vision, joining him near a rushing stream. Yosemite was lazily killing trout, giving Blair a disinterested look.
“I cannot believe I’m walking toward a grizzly,” Blair muttered. He hopped onto a boulder in the middle of the stream, picking a path to the area where Yosemite was fishing. The Bear’s ears perked up, and he rose onto his haunches. Blair raised both hands, stopping on a stone a good dozen feet away from the grizzly. The water burbled and flowed around them, just a few feet deep. No barrier at all to a bear that size.
“I know the pain of loss. I know what it’s like to feel abandoned. But Windigo is using you. He’s taking advantage of your pain. He’s using your love for the Mother. That’s not what she would have wanted, Yosemite. Come back to us, Great Bear.”
The Bear roared, lumbering closer to Blair.
He froze as it approached, wincing as a giant snout sniffed at his face.
The Bear spoke in a rumbling voice, “You are also of the Mother. You have a part of her scent. Why have you come to my valley?”
“You are trapped in memory, mighty Yosemite.” Blair remained still, and kept his tone as soothing as he could manage. This Yoda crap was a lot harder than blurring around killing things. “A horrible being called Windigo invaded your mind. He’s hidden the memory of his arrival. Look.”
Blair raised a hand, and the sky shimmered. It showed the confrontation between Yosemite and an old woman. Yosemite killed the woman, feasting on her. Bright red light flared from the corpse, flowing into Yosemite’s eyes. Those eyes flared red, then the Bear continued feeding.