Rina peeled off her helmet.
Eitan froze mid-motion, his jaw trembled and the tremor spread to his whole body. He charged onward. Rina took a step towards him. Eitan stopped.
She turned her back on him and looked towards Majidi. “No Councilwoman, my Brother,” all of her contempt carrying through that single word, “has pulled his last trick.”
Bees could read the winds. Among the myriad things they did, they had the ability to tell which direction they would come from, and more importantly, how long they would last.
This time they were wrong. The winds did blow for three days, and away from the mountain, over the cliffs and onto the oceans, but they did not just blow. Massive gales rocked the colony, carrying the smell of charred houses and burning corpses away from the colony and over the perimeter wall. Fish guards could not tell that the lights gleaming from the more distant Fish outposts along the cliff walls were anything but the night-lights they expected them to be.
It was only when the storm passed and contact was re-established with the colony that they discovered the extent of the slaughter. Five of the ten furthest outposts had been burned to the ground, skeletons of all sizes lay around haphazardly. Eyeless skulls that would never reunite with the Dreamers grinned at them, and the perpetrators hadn’t left a trace.
One of the sentinels raised a horn to his mouth, and no sooner had the first note rung out than hooks landed at their feet from over the cliff walls, and strange, black-clad warriors appeared and disappeared among them, tearing them limb from limb.
“They are slaughtering Moles out there!” shouted Rina.
“And what exactly did you expect?” the Priestess responded with a disconcerting cool.
Rina knew her as Gilani, and her acolyte as Amirpour, but Priests would always be Priests in her eyes, only real people had names.
Sitting on the throne, Eitan grinned silently.
In the days that had followed the attacks on the Fish outposts, a civil war had erupted in the colony. Fish soldiers took revenge for their losses the only way they knew how, by killing Moles in droves. Moles had responded by seeking refuge in friendly houses amongst other Castes, drawing them deeper into the century old enmity.
The Fish had not uncovered the secret tunnels, and still did not know how the gruesome attacks had been pulled off, but it was only a matter of time until they did, and then the rebellion would be damned. Surprise was all the rebellion had on their side; lacking that, the Fish with the other loyal Caste members would complete their purge.
Priests outside could not appeal for calm. Their anchor was prophecy, and with their Divine Undertaking shut it never held ground. The Priests inside the caves had received a few relayed messages through the tunnels, but it was clear to Rina that they were biding their time, waiting to see how long the killing on the streets would go on for. Waiting until the inhabitants turned to them in desperation, or better yet, waiting until the Fish found the tunnels and slaughtered the rebellion, handing them the keys to the Divine Undertaking and restoring their power.
They would not give the signal allowing the Bee, Beast, and Ant rebels to rush out of the tunnels and take the fight to the Fish, not with their plans falling apart.
Eitan’s authority was gone, even though he still sat on the throne, and all the Castes involved in the rebellion agreed that Rina was too impulsive. The rebellion was effectively leaderless. Her actions had hastened years of quiet preparation, forcing them into action, leading to the slaughter of their families and friends, and jeopardising their victory. Worse, regardless of how much they despised the Fish, they would not take orders from a woman, much less a former comfort girl turned warrior.
A thought tickled the back of Rina’s brain, bubbled to the forefront, and hit her between the eyes. She looked up at the Priest’s face, calm but betraying a smug self-satisfaction. She caught hold of his neck, lifted him up and turned to her troops. “Kill all the white cloaks,” she ordered.
The other Caste members began to move to protect the Priests out of custom, and even her own soldiers seemed hesitant. Seizing the opportunity, he struggled for air and a word. Rina released the pressure on his throat enough for him to speak.
“Blasphemy!” he wheezed. “You can’t threaten a Priest... Mole woman!”
The last came out muffled as she tightened her grip, but the Moles gathered in the cave took offense, and converged menacingly on the nearest Priest and Priestess.
“Threaten?” Rina’s hand tore through his neck, his body crumpling to the ground, blood dripping down her fingers. His head, slipping from her grasp, hit the ground and rolled to Gilani’s feet.
“A sign!” she yelled, dropping to her knees. No one killed a Priest, or a Priestess—one might as well choke Hades to death. “You need a sign, foolish girl!”
“What sign?” she inquired, distrustfully.
Priestess Gilani’s eyes flickered from Amirpour’s face by her sandals to Rina, “...A sign...a sign of Hades...” she hesitated, staring at the bloody head, its lips reaching for her toes, and gave in. “They, we, do not all believe in this rebellion, but we all believe in Hades. They must believe... somehow, that the Time of Hades has arrived.”
Rina paused for thought. A sign? What kind of sign could proclaim Had-
She looked up at the Priestess and nodded, turned to her brother, who still sat, waiting for the show to go on. “You might be rid of me yet, Eitan, make it worth it.”
He stood. “You make it worth it little sister, and there may still be room for you when all is done.”
She glared at him. “If I don’t make it you’re as good as dead, but if I do...” She hesitated as well, unsure of speaking words she could never take back, but it did not matter. Eitan could not, would not, rule if she could help it. “If I do, there won’t be room for the two of us,” she said, and stormed out of the room with her army of sentinels, heading for Councilman Tamhidi’s quarters.
“You have two minutes, after that...you should melt, or explode, the latter is preferable, I suppose.” He paused and repeated himself. “Two minutes, you do realise what that means don’t you?” He read his answer in the flatness of her stare. “And what did I tell you about birds of flame, girl?” He shook his head. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, try metaphors and they fall on deaf ears, I thought you were brighter, girl, but who cares?”
He unrolled an old scroll, showing her the image of what looked like a giant incandescent bird, rising from a pit of flame. “You get the idea, don’t you?”
“What are my chances?”
“Of success or survival?”
“Both.”
“100% for the former... The latter, who knows, if you make it out in time, and hit the ground before the suit disintegrates... you could also bury the colony in lava.”
She weighed his words for an instant. “It sounds acceptable.”
“To you certainly, as for myself I would rather avoid another Pompeii.”
“Another what?”
“Never mind. Make peace with Neptune before you go, girl. I wish you well.”
He clicked the door open.
“Are you in such a hurry for me to die, Tamhidi?”
He laughed, a loud and heavy bass that bounced back against the walls. “You’ll live to pester me yet, girl, but you said it yourself, you might only have a few hours left. So far, the Fish have been too busy to dive, but they never let the ocean go too long without them, and when they do...”
She nodded at him. “Thank you, old man,” she said, with more emotion than she knew she held.
“Don’t thank me, succeed girl. Succeed without killing us. Speaking of which, careful with the charges, you don’t want this thing to erupt. Just a nudge.”
She nodded and pulled her mask over her head, and started down the tunnel towards the heart of the Divine Undertaking.
Everything in the colony stopped when the ground under them started shaking hard enough to throw Fish sentinels off the walls.
Mal
e Bees abandoned their cattle and ran home to their wives and children.
Ants left the fires in their forges unattended.
Beasts let go of their burdens, and knelt to pray.
Fish looked to the ocean for shelter but did not dare move.
Priests vainly appealed for calm.
But all of them, all as one, looked up to the chimney of the volcano, spitting gusts of coal black smoke and bits of flaming stone into the air, and before their eyes. Hades himself rose from its breath and lit the sky.
Somewhere inside the colony, a Priest stood up, headed to the window and rang a bell, echoed soon after by another, and another, and another, until everyone heard, and everyone knew. Hades had arrived.
The bubbling lava pits at the heart of the Divine Undertaking were waiting for her, daring her to dive and challenge the Gods.
The chimney seemed impossibly high, too high for her to reach, even if the explosion stirred the magma into outraged fury. Grimly determined, she looked back at the few sentinels waiting on her expectantly. This was the only chance they had left. Eitan was right, and so was everybody else. She was too impulsive, too brash, incapable of seeing beyond the immediate satisfaction of revenge to see the bigger—the much, much bigger—picture that had unfolded since her father had started planning the rebellion in what seemed another life now. She alone had led her family, her friends, her fellow conspirators, her Mole Caste, to the brink of extermination; it was only fitting that her sacrifice absolved or ended them. Regardless of the outcome, the centuries of slavery would end, a new order would rise, or all would be wiped clean.
She tore her eyes away from the comfort girls, clad in their black suits, impervious to the heat and faced down into the pit, dropping the payload into Azhi-Dahaka’s hungry maw.
The explosion barely registered in the rage of molten lava beneath, but slowly the rumble grew and strengthened in intensity as the embers took on a life of their own and rose to meet her at the edge of the pit. When they were almost at her feet and still building, she felt a glimmer of hope, futile though it was, that she would succeed, and might, just might, live to see the story unfold.
She let the rising semi-liquid guide her into the chimney, it pushed her upward, a tiny thing in the blood of nature.
The rubble shutting the Divine Undertaking blasted outward, taking out the few curious and foolish enough to approach the sealed entrance as Hades blew out of the volcano.
The sound of thousands of underground footsteps made its way from the mountain towards the cliff, and in every neighbourhood, in each Caste’s quarters, armed Moles, Ants, Bees, and Beasts, emerged from houses, and popped out of the ground, relentlessly attacking Fish and anyone deranged enough to get in their way.
Hooks landed on the side of the cliff, followed by black-clad female warriors pouring into the Fish outposts, darting furiously towards the colony’s outer walls, sucking in the heat and energy from Fish laser beams that only propelled them forward, faster and stronger.
The first woman hit the wall with such strength she bored a hole straight through it, sending stone and those walking along the walls into the battle-torn colony. The others followed in a heartbeat, pounding through the structure until it crumbled and collapsed.
The flow abated in the chimney. Caught in the middle, she focused her vision upwards. The lava was thick but she could make out, still impossibly distant, the mouth of the dragon already roaring with fumes and small hyper-accelerated rocks.
Thirty, maybe forty seconds until the coils melted under the pressure or blew up, making her one with the magma. At least the colony will be spared. But the thought, comforting as it was, was not enough. It did not matter that she came out breathing or a writhing ball of flame, unless her body came out for all to see, it would all have been for nothing.
She released one last blast, a little explosive powder wrapped in a pouch made of suit fragments at her side, for one final attempt to reach the exit.
The small detonation was enough for her to accelerate, in seconds her head was peering ahead of the onslaught, her body still caught in the red turmoil, the mouth of the chimney visible intermittently between the gushes of wind that blew smoke away from the mountain.
Twenty seconds, maybe less. She could feel the suit weakening, an odd feeling that disconnected her from her state of hypersensitivity. At least I won’t feel anything.
Suddenly, air hit her face just as she lost the ability to feel. Only her sight remained clear enough to see the sun break through the smoke, impossibly bright, impossibly close.
Above and around her, bright blue skies conflicted with the blackness beneath, shielding her from the events in the colony, and she soared still further upwards. The weakened suit still shrouded her, but glowed strangely from the heat, giving it shades of purple, streaked with random shots of bright blue where it had weakened the most.
Just as she thought that she would hit the sun and burn inside it, gravity asserted itself, sending her down in an arch back towards the volcano, back towards the colony, and the fight that still had to be fought.
She twisted her body into a spear, heading straight down into the black smoke, through it, and broke out over the confusion of a human eruption.
She thought she was falling back into the volcano and the flames, until she saw it was the colony, burning almost everywhere, accelerating towards her.
She could make out the different coloured hues of the Castes’ clothing, fighting Fish, fighting each other, and amidst them, black streaks leaving brushstrokes of carnage behind them.
Brown Mole suits were backed into corners surrounded by Fish black, shooting through them only to be cut down by rebel forces closing in on them. Priests held their heads low, alone or in circles, their robes marred by smoke and soot, surviving as fights danced around them, and succumbing to collapsing structures and warriors too desperate to see them or care for their fate.
Only one target mattered to her, and that one she had to find. She hoped Eitan was dead already, but doubted anything could kill her berserk brother once the smell of death fuelled his madness. She focused harder, using the last of the energy caught in the suit as it slowly started to peel off in little specks of black-purple dust, and found him.
Eitan was in the central plaza, a few yards from where the perimeter wall had stood a few minutes earlier, his blade slashing through Fish and rebels alike.
She aimed herself at him, her body cutting through the air with a shriek. The colony was completely visible now. Eitan’s hands were wrapped around a young Ant girl’s neck, trying to rip her head off from her shoulders barehanded.
The air caught in her lungs; she tried to scream, and maybe she did, the clamour of battle and the air rushing past numbed her to sound, or maybe the suit had given way entirely.
There was no way of knowing—and it didn’t matter at all.
He still had his back to her. He would not survive either way. She might, but not Eitan. Yet she wanted him to see her, and she wanted him to remember her words, remember his deeds, and hopefully, at the last second, remember the brother who’d ruffled her hair.
Eitan pulled up and the girl’s neck muscles gave in, tearing away from bone, leaving him holding her reddish haired head, eyes still blinking.
He spun, raising his trophy, and looked up to see a purple-black dash in the sky. The smoke cleared, revealing the shape of a human arrow headed straight for him.
Rina gave a last thrust, one small boost to hit her target before he regained enough sense to dive out of the way. He let go of the head to fall at his feet, transfixed by her sudden apparition.
Two, maybe three seconds. He still doesn’t know, he still... And then Eitan’s eyes widened, a mixture of hate, fear, and respect, growing on his face just as she hit him. Maybe in that last second something changed; maybe terror overcame him, maybe acceptance, but she doubted it was either. Eitan would die believing in his own godliness, just as he had lived, and that was why he had to die.
Eitan exploded on impact as Rina’s suit-wrapped head smashed into his torso. The last of the hyper-sensibility left in her clothing sent two fading heartbeats pulsing through her body, before she knew that he was dead.
She hit the ground with a sonic bang, sending ripples through the colony and beyond towards the cliff, lifting air and rock and levelling houses and warriors in its wake. Skidding further, she lost consciousness as the last of her suit peeled off, leaving her naked in a shallow crater a few yards from the cliffs and the endless waters beyond.
A breeze blew stronger through the open windows onto the balcony, carrying a smell of seaweed and iodine into the room.
The 2nd Councilwoman, a young, slender Priestess, wiped the sweat from Rina’s brow with a small cloth as she lay in her bed.
The incoming storm felt good, reminding her of her childhood: the green fields in the shade of the volcano, the sun setting over the seas, her father’s homecomings on windy nights, and getting herself into trouble.
“You should close your eyes and rest, 1st Councilwoman,” the young Priestess suggested.
Rina laughed and coughed. “Ha! My open eyes are all that are keeping me alive. The moment I close them is the moment I’m gone. What do the day’s reports read?”
The Priestess gathered a small pile of paperwork from a nearby table. “Which ones, 1st Councilwoman? Of the Divine Undertaking or the expeditions north?”
“Both.”
“The Divine Undertaking is progressing well. Overseers speculate that it will take as much time again as since the rebellion before it is complete.”
“Another fifty years?”
“Possibly, possibly less, 1st Councilwoman, we can always drive the Fish harder.”
Rina waved a hand dismissively. “And what of the expeditions north?”
“Northern Europe is under ice, it would seem, large swaths of...” the unfamiliar word twisting in her mouth, “...of in-ga-land are now completely out of reach.”
Rina nodded. A gust of wind slipped through the window, cooling her fever. “Perhaps, perhaps it is time to rethink the future of the Colony. Perhaps, and I do not say this lightly.”
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