by Chris Fox
Sunsteel, Ka-Dun. They are armed for war, and consider you a foe.
“Why do you seek to bar our way? All supplicants are allowed to seek the Mother’s wisdom,” Leti said. It had the ring of scripture, and maybe it was.
“Eldest sister commanded it,” the shorter woman said. She stared daggers at Jordan. “This one is to be escorted. He may be the lord of this place, but we will see that he causes no mischief. Come, Ark Lord. The eldest wish to see you.” The way she said his title made it very clear just how she felt about it.
He looked to Leti, and she gave a short nod. Jordan fell into line behind the two women, following them like a prisoner as he was led through his own Ark. It was annoying, but the benefits outweighed any hit to his pride. He needed these people. The world needed these people. He couldn’t afford to alienate them any further than he already had.
They were led into the central chamber, where a pair of elaborate golden thrones had been erected. They stood at the feet of the statue of Isis, as if bathed in her wisdom. Jordan smiled grimly. If Isis ever saw this, he had a feeling that one or both of the people on those thrones might not survive. Isis had a bit of a temper that way.
Elia sat on the right, resplendent in her glimmering white robe. The cotton she’d worn earlier was gone, replaced by the same kind of clothing Jordan had seen the Mother wear. Their formal wear, then? Her golden bracelet was still in place, and she’d added a golden necklace set with a knuckle-sized sapphire. Jordan probed it with his mind, unsurprised when he felt a signal. More of Elia’s toys. At least now he knew the source of those toys, or suspected he did anyway.
“Eldest sister, we have come as supplicants,” Leti said. She sank to her knees, prostrating herself before the thrones. After a moment Jordan realized he was supposed to do the same.
He gritted his teeth, imitating Leti’s position. It was humiliating, and dangerous. Being in this position meant that Elia would never have a better shot at ending him. Outside of Liz and Isis, she was the strongest Ka-Ken he’d met.
That is the point of supplication, Ka-Dun. You are putting yourselves in their power, both figuratively and literally.
“It surprises me that this one can put aside his arrogance long enough to show deference,” Elia said. She rose gracefully from the throne, approaching Jordan’s still kneeling form. His skin crawled, and he longed to roll into a combat stance. “How did you domesticate him so quickly, little sister?”
Jordan knew the comment was meant to bait him. She believed he was susceptible to such things. He needed to prove otherwise. Jordan stayed where he was, refusing to give in to his instincts. After several more moments Elia glided her way back to the throne. She didn’t speak again until after she’d sat.
“We recognize you as supplicants, little sister,” Elia intoned.
“We recognize you as supplicants, little sister,” Adam intoned, a heartbeat after Elia.
“Rise,” Elia continued. “We will hear the supplicant’s request.”
Jordan climbed slowly to his feet, watching Leti as she did the same. He aped her body language as much as possible, trying for meek. He didn’t do meek very well.
“I have been an initiate for two years,” Leti said. She gave a short bow. “During my time I have learned much. I can walk the shadows, and slay silently. I know the Mother’s catechisms by heart. My lineage is one of the purest in Peru, only two steps below Medico Roberto. I beseech you, allow me to seek the Holy City, that I might be found worthy.”
“What say you, eldest brother?” Elia asked, turning to Adam.
“Why do you seek the city, Leti? Why now, at the precise instant the Ark Lord has returned?” Adam studied Leti shrewdly, and she held up under that scrutiny.
Jordan was proud of her. It couldn’t have been easy.
“Because the Ark Lord needs to reach the Holy City. There we will find the tools necessary to carry on the Mother’s war. Jordan was recognized as one of her champions. He is her direct progeny, created by the Mother to battle her enemies.” There was an air of desperation to Leti’s argument.
“So you seek to lead the Ark Lord to our holiest of places?” Adam asked. His tone was neutral, his expression the same. If he approved, or disapproved, nothing gave it away.
“I do, Eldest. It is the right thing to do, because I believe it is what the holy Mother would do. She made him a champion for a reason; she trusted him. He was there in the last battle between her and the ancient darkness,” Leti said. The air of desperation dissipated. “We exist to honor her will, to see her decrees carried forth. The Ark Lord is her instrument, doing exactly that. He deserves our aid.”
“You are not the voice of the Mother,” Adam said, reprovingly. “Presuming to know her wishes is the height of arrogance. You are not ready to begin your seeking.” He leaned back on his throne. “If you do not set aside your pride, you may never be ready.”
“Well said,” Elia agreed triumphantly, crossing shapely legs. “You are not ready for your seeking, Leti. Return to your studies, and do not speak to this man again. Are my wishes clear?”
“They are clear,” Leti spat. She glared at the pair of them, bristling. “All too clear. It is not my arrogance that is the issue here. You seek to bar this man’s aid because he was disrespectful. Because he neither knows nor follows our ways. Yet who among us can claim to have met the Mother? He has dined with her. Fought with her. His rebirth came at her hands. I will take him to the city. Nothing in the scriptures requires that I have your permission. That’s a tradition you started.”
Elia and Adam eyed each other uncomfortably. Elia finally looked at her, eyes flashing with the same hatred she’d shown Jordan. “If you do this, you will be cast from the Temple. You know that.”
“If you are willing to place your own pride above the wishes of the Mother, then that is a price I must pay.” Leti stood proudly. “As much as you pretend, you are not Her. I will let the city judge my worth.”
“You will die in the attempt,” Adam said, still emotionless. “The people will offer you no succor. We cannot stop you from seeking, but neither do we have to offer you protection.”
“I cast you from this temple, Leticia,” Elia roared. She rose from her throne, pointing accusingly at Leti. “You have until sunset to be gone from this valley, never to return. If you are seen here again, you will be treated as the ancient enemy.”
Chapter 35- The Fate of Anubis
Trevor shot to his feet the instant he heard the rumble of approaching engines. He hefted his battered green backpack from the curb. The pack contained almost nothing—just a toothbrush, comb, and a couple changes of clothes. Not needing to breath, eat, or sleep definitely cut down on the number of things a guy had to carry.
“Marguerite, you’ve been a wonderful hostess,” Anput said as she breezed into the kitchen from the stairway. She moved to embrace the old woman, who squirmed as Anput kissed her cheek. “I’ll be certain to recommend this place to all my dead whore friends.”
“Ugh, I’ll have the stench of you on me for weeks. You did that on purpose, you deceitful whore. Get out of my house.” There was no heat to Marguerite’s voice, though. There might even have been a hint of affection. “You’ll meet your death in that jungle. The Mother will never allow you to reach the Holy City.”
Trevor didn’t want to know how Marguerite knew they were leaving. If she knew, then everyone in Cajamarca knew, too. So much for a stealthy departure. Trevor gave a sigh as he headed for the door, not saying a word to the old woman as he stepped out into the chill morning. The sun was just cresting the horizon, its warmth feeding a trickle of power into his ever growing reserves.
Anput followed him to the curb just as two Jeeps pulled up. Jordan was driving the first. A dark-haired woman in a simple cotton skirt pulled up in a second Jeep, parking behind Jordan. She left the engine idling, meeting Trevor’s gaze briefly. There was hostility there, but it was muted. She didn’t like him, but her hatred didn’t seem to run as deep as
most other people he’d met here.
“Trevor, Anput, this is Leticia,” Jordan said, gesturing toward the dark-haired woman. “She’s a priestess of the Mother, and she’ll be guiding us into the jungle. We’ll take the first Jeep, and you two can follow us.”
“Couldn’t we all just take one vehicle?” Anput asked. Her tone was carefully neutral, but Trevor could feel the thinly contained heat. He shared the feeling. Were they so unclean that Jordan wouldn’t even ride with them?
“We could, but I’m after redundancy. What if we break an axle? A second vehicle gives us spare parts if one breaks down. Once we enter that jungle, we won’t be able to come back for help.” He met Anput’s gaze evenly. “I assure you, this isn’t personal. If you’d prefer to change the seating arrangements, you can ride with me or Leti.”
“I apologize, Ark Lord.” Anput nodded stiffly. “Thank you for procuring transportation. I’d prefer to ride with Ark Lord Trevor. He and I still have a great deal to discuss.”
“I’m sure you do,” Jordan said, raising an eyebrow. He turned to Trevor. “I’m going to light-walk us, and the Jeeps, to the town of Pucallpa. According to Leti, that’s a jumping off point into the jungle. Three days’ hard drive will get us into the thickest part of the jungle. From there we’ll be taking a canoe upriver. You two ready?”
“Yeah.” Trevor nodded. Anput did the same a moment later. Trevor still felt irritated, though he had to admit that Jordan’s logic was sound. He knew he was reacting emotionally based on past encounters.
Jordan’s eyes closed, and Trevor felt a surge of energy from the mountains to the east. Light burst from Jordan, impossibly brilliant. It washed over all of them, Jeeps included. When that light faded, they were in a small clearing. Trevor stood on a patch of dirt, surrounded by towering trees, covered with vines. It was the kind of dense jungle he hadn’t seen since Irakesh had taken him to Panama.
A wide, dark river, flanked by a wall of vegetation, disappeared to the south. Behind them lay a fairly advanced city, complete with a little airport. There was even something resembling a strip mall. It wasn’t San Diego, but it was more advanced than he’d have imagined.
He’d also had no idea how humid it would be. A thick sheen of sweat already covered Jordan’s face and arms.
Insects, macaws, and something that sounded to Trevor like monkeys all competed to be the loudest part of the jungle. It was a rolling wall of sound, hypnotic in an almost unnerving way.
“Being here reminds me of old times,” Jordan said. “At least this time I’m not chasing your sorry ass through the jungle.” To Trevor’s surprise, he smiled.
“Are you okay, man? I think there’s something wrong with your face,” Trevor quipped.
“I smile now and again,” Jordan said defensively. “Just not generally around you, because I’m usually trying to figure out the best way to kill you. Do you not remember shooting me in the face on the Golden Gate Bridge?”
“Yeah, uh, sorry about that,” Trevor said. “In my defense, I wasn’t given much choice.”
“How about when you shot me again, outside Gobekli Tepe?” Jordan said. He poked Trevor in the arm. “You enjoy shooting me, so I don’t smile around you. Getting shot sucks. It’s totally unfair that you can just disappear into the shadows.”
“Yeah, well you can monkey around inside my head,” Trevor pointed out. “Seems a fair enough trade.”
Trevor climbed back into the driver’s side of his Jeep, and Anput slid into the passenger’s side. Jordan rejoined Leti ahead of them. Jordan’s Jeep rolled confidently forward, ambling up a steep trail leading over a ridge that disappeared under the jungle’s thick canopy. Trevor guided his Jeep behind, allowing about fifty yards between them. They were paralleling the river, heading south.
“So what did you want to talk about?” Trevor asked.
Anput eyed him for a long moment before answering. She was unaffected by the sweltering heat; if anything, the humidity made her hair more lustrous. “I thought we could further discuss my theories on modifying the virus, but the truth is, that’s just me stalling. I’ve been wanting to ask, but I don’t really want the answer. Trevor, what happened to my husband?”
“We were ambushed in France,” Trevor admitted. He eyed her side long. “He stayed behind to buy the rest of us time to escape. Wepwawet faced off against Set, and according to Irakesh Set cut him down. He died clean, if it’s any consolation.”
Anput was silent for a long time, so Trevor focused on driving. Finally, she licked her lips and spoke. “What of Wepwawet? I’d know his fate as well.”
Trevor considered his answer carefully, buying time by focusing on navigating the treacherous trail. Jordan had left a cloud of dust in his wake, which billowed up around them. “When we attacked the First Ark, Wepwawet was still being controlled by Set. Isis, Osiris, and Ra went after Set. Their job was to delay him while the rest of us detonated the Ark. Your husband was sent to stop us. He confronted us in the Ark’s central repository. Wepwawet squared off against Liz, and she was forced to kill him.”
“Did Liz still wield Excalibur when she killed him?” Anput asked quietly, staring down at her lap.
“No, Osiris was wielding it,” Trevor explained. “She did use the na-kopesh that used to belong to Irakesh.”
Anput’s head shot up and her eyes locked on Trevor. He eyed her sidelong as the Jeep bounced over another root.
“She used the blade to kill Wepwawet?” Anput asked. Her voice had an intensity he’d never heard from her.
“Yes, she drained his essence,” Trevor said. “I saw her do that once before, when we were fighting a corrupted champion. I gather that makes her stronger.” He didn’t really understand the process. Exactly what were you draining when you took someone’s essence? It might be explainable scientifically, but he had no idea where to even start with sunsteel.
Anput gave a bitter laugh. “It will have to do, I suppose. Draining a foe does more than empower the killer. If they drain all the essence they’ll often absorb the consciousness of the person they slew. Part of Wepwawet almost certainly dwells within Liz. He was a powerful god, far too powerful to simply dissipate.”
“Wow.” Trevor wondered how Liz would deal with having wolf-headed god in her head.
Chapter 36- Mobilization
Nox watched impassively from the hotel balcony as the jungle below withered and died. He’d seen sections burned before, and remembered how the dense smoke had blackened the sky—how breathing had been difficult, and he’d needed eye protection.
This was somehow more terrible than even the wanton burning of ancient jungle.
Four of Camiero’s best shapers had been deployed along the jungle west of the isolated city of Brasilia. Each held a staff cut from dense black stone. They wore golden bracelets, allowing them to interface with the Builder-created weapons. Nox could feel the tremendous flow of energy from each shaper, fed through the bracelets into the staff. The staff radiated that energy in all directions, and wherever that energy passed plants died.
The process began as a simple withering. Leaves drooped, then began to shrivel. Within moments, everything green was dead. Within a minute, everything within a thousand yards of the staff had become desiccated husks. Only the tallest trees remained standing, isolated husks to mark the grave of the jungle. The rest toppled with cascading crashes, so weak the dried wood could no longer support its own weight.
After that swath of jungle had been cleared, all four shapers blurred forward, and the process repeated.
It had been going on for three hours, and already they’d cleared tens of square miles of jungle—and they were not the only ones. This process was being repeated all along the border of the Amazon. By tomorrow they’d have done more destruction to the jungle than the four decades of logging before the CME combined.
“Glorious,” Kali whispered. She stood behind him, and he had almost been able to ignore her presence. She cradled one of the obelisks, doting over it like a
mother. “These things are incredible, and the jungle is merely one application. I can use these to amplify nearly any ability, including fear. You could break an enemy without evening needed to fight. The Builders are truly gods.”
Nox longed to tear out her throat, horrified by how much she reveled in the destruction.
You only hate her because she represents the darkest parts of you, Set-Dun.
Nox found it interesting that the voice believed that. He detested Kali, that was true—but not because she was anything like him. She was the opposite, in fact. Everything he did was with cold deliberation. He was always working toward his goals, methodically plotting his next moves. Kali was a creature of passion, chasing whatever emotion caught her fancy. She could switch from passion to rage and back again in the space of a few heartbeats. That had proven lethal to far too many of Camiero’s lieutenants. She’d roasted the last one alive using her pyrokinesis, a brand of shaping Nox had only encountered in the people shaped by the grey men.
It gave him a clue to her past, though he’d been unable to uncover anything further. She was tight-lipped, and the only people who knew anything about her were Project Solaris. It was a pity Nox hadn’t been able to find their sanctuary, somewhere in orbit. He had no doubt it would yield all sorts of secrets, perhaps including a way to stop the Builders.
“What makes you think the Builders won’t wipe us out the moment they arrive?” Nox asked. He didn’t expect a logical answer, and wasn’t disappointed.
“They’ve promised us power,” she explained. “Their chosen will stand above the rest of the cattle. We will not rule, but I do not wish to. I merely wish to serve the masters.”
Her tone was all devotion, which was odd for Kali. Nox had seen brainwashing before, but this went well beyond it. Somehow the grey men had shaped Kali’s mind, instilling in her a slavish devotion to the Builders.