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The Angels' Pride

Page 24

by Steven Lindsay


  The girl ran over to the TV, turning it on and flicking it through the channels until she found the news feed. Sarah stood there, smartly dressed as usual, among a group of mostly elderly women and few younger ones. One was a Senator, another a movie star. All were Daemons, mostly Maenad or Siren but there were others.

  The headline flashed by again. The Imperial Hospital of New York had been officially opened this morning bringing new hope to New York about the successful treatment of AIDS. Sarah made some comments about it being a great asset for the city, and then Dr. Connor spoke about the increasing success of the trial cure and that she was optimistic about continual success and opening further hospitals across the country. Then Senator Gilmore spoke of her support for the hospitals and the good it was doing for the country. And her continuing support of the hospitals, then she took a dig at some Senators and the church members denouncing the hospitals.

  Some denouncers were interviewed yelling about Hell, and sin and homosexuals, and surprisingly about this fake Goddess Hera.

  The reporter, a Succubus, then finished off with a sneer about the denouncers and a little side note about New York being fortunate to attract followers of Hera. In this economic turmoil having a Goddess of Power had to be good for the city.

  Hera used her magic to flick through several other new feeds and depending on their own agendas. Christian and anti-gay denounced the opening of the hospital going on about how it was encouraging and naturalising their abnormal lifestyles. Daemonic or gay were openly complimentary of the opening of the hospital and the good it would bring New York. Neutral sources were more middle of the road, complimentary of the curing but negative about the selectivity of patients and the fact that Dr Connor had not shared her cure with the scientific and medical communities. The Scientific community was quite negative about the fact she had not shared it or had it peer reviewed. Several doctors did add personal comments complimenting her on actually achieving a cure.

  The girl turned back to her, Hera looked at her “Tell Sarah she has done brilliantly and that I will visit her shortly.” The girl ran out, being near her scared her.

  Hera smiled to herself, she had made a beginners oversight. She had forgotten just how influential mortals were on each other. It showed that it had been a long time since she had properly played the power games. No wonder the Christians had had such a sudden success with the Roman Empire.

  Sarah was probably her most useful asset to New York, left to her own autonomy she was achieving more than she was. For each major city, she would have to have at least one person, an overseer to be left to complete tasks while she was busy across the country.

  Sure she was a Goddess, but she couldn’t be everywhere at once. She had been trying to do too much herself. And achieving very little.

  She already had all the Maenads across the United States loyal to her, she had a network of very influential women in business, government, science, and entertainment. It was time she started utilising it. Never mind the fact she had the Sirens on side as well as ever increasing numbers of the other Daemon races spreading across America.

  She had been such a fool.

  Gabriel watched the Council for once being rather quiet. They were completely unconcerned about Brigid and Hera still being at large. The Darkness had given them a fright, but that had quickly passed. They viewed the two Goddesses as harmless.

  The fools. Hera had never been harmless. She was one of the most naturally powerful Goddesses around. She had carved out not just one but two huge empires. She had replaced several pantheons and left her mark for centuries. Mortals and Divine alike had rightly feared her. Her own husband had chained her to her house because he was scared of her power and fury. She could take out any number of Arch Angels if they were not working in unison. Her roaming the Earth was a disaster.

  As for Brigid, she did not elicit the same level of fear. She was reasonably powerful, but her powers were surprisingly wide-ranging. No the greatest concern for her was the loyalty she incited. While she had been one of the earliest to be captured, her worship had lasted for centuries afterwards, only stopped with some clever marketing. She was dangerous, such loyalty, especially on a large scale, would empower her to terrifying levels. Especially if she managed to set up in the UK, its population giving its faith to her. It was a nightmare not worth considering.

  Fortunately, neither seemed to be making any successes.

  She rolled her eyes as many of the Elders started discussing the merits of the search. Many encouraged the conversation. They were actually considering pulling off the hunt and leaving it to Nuriel and her team. Like she wasn’t busy enough. But leaving the hunt for two Goddesses to anyone who wasn’t an Arch Angel was potentially suicidal.

  The fools, they were so self-assured of their own importance. Most of them so easily forgot the cost of the War and Rebellion. Their numbers had been decimated, so many of their strongest Elders had been lost. They would never be in the position they were currently in if they had survived. There would always have been seven Arch Angels at any given time.

  The Angels were weak but too proud to realise it. They relied too much on their Arch Angels. They had been spoiled. Perhaps having Hera or Brigid do something significant would be a good scare for them.

  Chapter 19

  Brigid breathed in deeply, feeling the rich magic of the Ganges filling the air. There was the fetid smell of decay and refuse also filling the air, as well as the smell of the populace but despite that she could still smell the potent magic of the river. It thrummed, flowing into the city of Varanasi, infusing the people who bathed in its sacred, if heavily polluted, waters.

  She could feel parts of her own powers too, flowing down from the Yamuna River and mixing with the surprisingly potent powers of the Ganges. Her initial steps had proved successful in Agra. As expected the land was crying out for the magical touch of a Mother Goddess. She had effectively claimed it without officially claiming it, important if she was to continue to avoid the Angels.

  But India was full of surprises while the land was screaming out for her magic, for any Mother or Father to nurture it, the rivers were contently singing away. They still had some of their own magic. India was a patchwork of screaming need and contentment.

  Within the city, there was an old and strange magical feel that had grown tainted, for lack of a better word. She hazarded that it was the river. It might be singing, but it was sick, very sick with the sheer number of pollutants raging through it. It saddened her that in this age such beautiful and magical things as rivers were treated this way. But her research had shown her every nation in the world had various levels of pollution.

  She filtered out the Ganges and focused on the smells of Varanasi, the spice and the sweat, the perfumes and the toxins. It was all so alien to her, but she could feel the ancient beat of the city, ancient and weak but firmly entwined with the Ganges. It was here that millions had descended the steps into the sacred waters to bathe and pray.

  This was the best place to claim the Ganges, but also the most difficult.

  She hooked her arm around Ryan’s as he led her towards the river. They stopped at stalls to admire knick knacks and food. They chatted absently as they moved through the pressing throng of people but gradually they made their way to the steps. And with each step closer she felt the potency of the river’s magic assail her. Her own magic swirled around her in response, and as she glanced around, she saw flowers burst into bloom.

  She vanished her shoes at the top of the steps and slowly descended towards the dirty water. Shimmers of rainbows played over oily sheens and between plastic bags, bottles, and rotting leaves. The river was so very sick and yet people continued to bath in it. She had to fix it, they were endangering their health.

  Ryan watched as she slowly descended the steps like a vision from Heaven. How had he ever gotten so lucky? Her hair and green dress were floating around her in a gentle breeze that seemed to be coming from nowhere. The day had been a littl
e overcast, but now there were shafts of sunlight spearing through the clouds. It added an ethereal quality to the steps and river as the shafts raced across and around. Bathing Hindus looked up at the shafts of sunlight.

  He turned back to see Brigid stop on the last step above the waterline “are you sure that it is wise to get that near?”

  She whispered something he couldn’t hear except “it will be mine” he shook his head, he must have heard wrong. Then she took the last step, as soon as her skin touched the water it blazed to life with light. People everywhere turned to look in fright and wonder. The light rising out of the river intensified making Brigid and the others in the river little more than dark pillars.

  Brigid gasped as she felt the river react to her presence and interference, its powers coiled around her, ensnaring her and trying to draw her in. She felt all the latent powers of ancient India awaken at once. They were far more powerful than she had realised.

  She focussed her powers on shielding and slipping between the Ganges’ powers.

  Ryan staggered back as plumes of water suddenly shot out of the water, all of them aimed directly for Brigid. They twined around the pillar of light encasing her, like snakes winding around prey. Was it an illusion or did Brigid have wings? People were screaming in terror as they rushed to get out of the water and away from the river. The steps were already covered in terrified people, and more were coming. Yet Brigid moved deeper into the river.

  The water boiled around her feet, she felt the tightening of magic around her, she let go of her illusions. They were a waste of her magic right now. The magic of an Angel might work in her favour. And it did she felt the powers hesitate and in that instant she fed her powers through the river. Years of British rule and Muslim rulers had undermined the strength of the Hindu resistance. Like everywhere the Angels’ religions had touched the old powers had been weakened. The rising numbers of Muslims in Pakistan and Bangladesh only undermined the ancient powers that they had one belonged to.

  She now walked a dangerously thin line between Earth Goddess and Elder Angel. She wondered if she could qualify as an Arch Angel with her powers. What an abstract thought. It galled her that she had to use her Angel powers at all, let alone to defend herself. She poured forth her Angelic powers, driving back the powers attacking her and at the same time she flooded her Earth Goddess powers into the river. She felt it respond, it still held far too much power of its own to accept her. She summoned up more power. She felt a small unfurling from nearby, her efforts in Agra were already paying off, and she was surprised just how much was coming to her from Australia. She had to return. But her greatest surprise was the fragile amount she received from her ancient homelands.

  It still accepted her!

  Then everything went berserk.

  Ryan scrambled back up the steps as fast as he could when the water started to boil. He hoped that no one was stuck in the river. He couldn’t tell if the screams were in pain or terror, but there were so many people surging up the steps it was hard to tell.

  Great plumes of steam and water burst out of the river and up into the quickly darkening sky. Brigid moved further into the river, towards the centre, as a large whirlpool started to form around her. Other noises filled the air competing with the screams. Boat horns, sirens, the crunching thud as a boat crashed into stone.

  But the screams went from scared to complete terror as fire rained down from the orange clouds. Each droplet of fire that touched the glowing river exploded in a bolt of lightning and a small fireball. Beyond the river, the city was quickly set alight. It was something out of the Apocalypse.

  And yet Brigid and her column of light did not waver.

  The ground started to shake, the sounds of groaning and grating rock ominously filled the air, even over the frightened screams of the populace. Somewhere a great plume of dust shot up as a building collapsed. Then another and another.

  Along the river a bridge collapsed, taking with it cars and people. The waves crashed viciously against the river steps, dragging people into the water. They all disappeared beneath the glowing surface and did not reappear. Water surged everywhere. Real rain outnumbered the fire rain, banking many of the fires low and making the streets run brown as all the dust and refuse was washed into the river. He struggled to stand let alone move as every street became a stream, the steps had become a horrific water feature as the water started to drag parts of the city with it. If this kept up the city wouldn’t burn to the ground it would be washed into the river.

  Then he heard a rumbled that chilled him to the bone. He looked upstream, and all wit left him, his body froze with fright. Coming around the river bend was a wall of brown water carrying the debris of the dams that had once contained it, and the cities it had passed through. He was going to die, there was nowhere to run. He couldn’t get up the steps, and had luckily avoided the cars and people being washed past him in a deluge of muck and churning water.

  Was he hallucinating or were there now bright lights in the sky, they looked almost Human. Maybe he was seeing things funny through the water that was now covering him. If he didn’t let go, he would drown. Well, at least it wasn’t the cancer that had killed him. Though a bizarre natural disaster in India hadn’t even been a potential thought. He sent a quick prayer for Brigid before he let go and his world disappeared.

  There was water everywhere, pulling her and assaulting her from every direction. Light pierced the water, like a thousand swords stabbing at her shields. She felt the power wrap around her in a smothering cocoon.

  She was no longer in the physical realm but within the spiritual essence of the Ganges, or possibly for all of India.

  There was chanting, lots of chanting in languages she didn’t know and didn’t have the time, or spare magic to make herself understand. Elements flared past her, there were comets and stars. There was smoke drifting lazily past, little flares of light flickering within. It was ethereally beautiful, hinting at a memory she couldn’t remember.

  There was a flash of dark blue and screams filled the air/water? Thousands of swords suddenly shattered against her shields but doing their intended work. She responded with her Angelic powers, raising powerful shields one after another while she lashed out wildly. Her magical senses were of less use than her eyes and ears.

  She felt something give way under one of her flailing tentacles. The shock passed back up and crumbled against her outer shield, destroying it completely. The world rocked in reprisal, the water flashing from its natural blue to a fiery orange. The flickers of light bloomed into shining spears and swords. Green and purple flashed wildly around her as the weapons started moving. Out of the thickening smoke drifted shapes of Beastmen striking her outermost shield. She intensified her assault with her Angelic powers while she started cocooning herself inside her Angelic shields with her Mother Earth powers.

  She felt a resonance from outside her shields, even hidden behind so much powerful Angel magic the spirit realm still recognised her natural powers. Nature and the elements had always had a strong allegiance to the Mother Goddesses.

  She felt the tides around her changing. Life was breathing through her Angel shields as though they didn’t exist to hug her Mother Earth powers. She felt the land’s magic and her own entwining around each other, wanting to unite, needing to unite.

  She felt the consciousness of India- all of ancient India, the modern states of India, Pakistan and Bangladesh acknowledge her powers. She felt their hunger and thirst for what she could offer. They were starved by centuries of Angelic onslaught. The same magic she had used to defend herself.

  There were more screams as her Angelic powers continued to cause devastation beyond her vision. Drawing the ire of Divine powers. She felt herself being smothered by ancient and decayed magic. She heard their whispers, of what had once been Gods but were now nothing more than lingering shades, caught in between the natural states of Gods. Gods did not become shades, they did not enter another state. They simply were drained
and absorbed, or they willingly chose to relinquish their essence back into the Lifestream.

  She had no real way of telling, but she felt certain that they were the remains of the once mighty Hindu Pantheon. Bound tightly to the land they had loved, they had weathered the incursion of Alexander the Great and the assault of the Olympians empowering him. There had been various incursions, but they had weathered them all. Except the spread of the Angels’ religions. They had been slowly poisoned by the continued growth of Islam in the region, but the final death had been by Christianity brought by the British Empire.

  Her people had unknowingly assisted in the killing of a once great pantheon. Their legacy was so great that they still had millions of worshippers centuries after they had ceased to have any impact on the planet. India was unprotected, and in part, it was her fault. Her people had been used by the Angels, but it was the legacy of the gifts that she had once given them that had allowed them to succeed so much.

  Britain was her child, she would not make excuses for it, but she would fix its mistakes. After all, India was essentially one of her progeny, the product of Britain’s once great empire.

  And the only way she could begin the healing was to formally claim India. It could not heal, she could not control it, the shades could not be released, and the land made bountiful again until she stepped up to the mark and made a commitment.

  She felt sure that these thoughts were not her own but encouraged in all likelihood by one or more of the shades lingering at the very edges of her sight.

  She stilled herself and her powers, allowing the external magic to continue to entwine itself around her own. Then she summoned up her powers, spreading them outwards in all directions, entwining and embracing all magic that they encountered. As she spoke, she spoke with voice, spirit and magic. A binding commitment to the land “I, Brigid formally claim the ancient lands of India, no other claims are stronger, and there are no contenders bar decayed shades. Rest in peace your lands are now in good hands. In the name of the Great Mother Goddess who gave us life and Chaos who gave us existence, I fully accept these lands as mine and mine alone.” She hoped that was the ritual saying, she had never formally claimed a land. Only offered her name when her pantheon had settled in Ireland.

 

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