With a sigh, the boy sat down. Jade put an arm around him, realising he was still feeling bad about ‘killing’ Phoenix.
“Don’t worry, Brynn. He’ll get over it.”
“I sure hope so,” he murmured, “because if he finds out it was me that stabbed him, I don’t like my chances of telling my adventures to my grandchildren.”
“He won’t find out,” she squeezed his thin shoulders.
“Jade,” Marcus’ low-voiced warning made her look up. Phoenix stood in the doorway, white-faced and grim. His eyes blazed with anger.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Brynn?” Phoenix’s voice was the merest whisper, his face a mask of hurt and betrayal. He strode into the room. Jade rose and pushed the boy behind her.
“Brynn killed me and you’re protecting him?” Phoenix glared at her. Once more his hand lay, in unspoken threat, on the hilt of his sword.
“What are you going to do, kill me?” Jade drew herself up to her full height. She looked him squarely in the eye and prepared to throw a shield spell between them. He took a half-step away, seeming to reconsider. Then he shook his head and snarled back at her, blue eyes fierce as they fought a silent battle of wills, deep in the grip of anger and magic.
The fanatical light in his eye told its own story. Blódbál owned him. Without it, Phoenix would never dream of harming her or Brynn. Now he was under the sway of a fiercer, bloodier magic than hers and only he could break free of it.
“Phoenix, we have a job to do, remember?” Marcus’ calm voice interrupted them and Jade sagged in relief as Phoenix slid a look over at his friend. Outside, night had finally descended and taken the sticky heat of day with it. Perhaps his anger would be soothed if it could be channelled somewhere more useful – like the destruction of a big, chunky obelisk.
Phoenix turned his cold gaze on Marcus. “You’re right. I’ll settle this with you later,” he cast a bleak promise at Brynn, who shouldered Jade aside and glared back at him.
“I won’t hide,” the boy raised his chin in defiance. “I’m no coward. I’ll fight you anytime you want. We did the right thing, whether you believe it or not.”
The contrast could not have been more marked. If the situation hadn’t been so very serious, Jade would have laughed. It was like watching a spitting kitten face up to a burly Rottweiler. Brynn clutched at his sword and dagger with white fingers. Phoenix sneered and drew Blódbál a couple of inches free of its covering.
“Enough!” She cast a shield spell between them. Phoenix struggled against it, unable to draw his sword. Before he could turn on her, she grabbed Brynn by the arm and marched him out the door. Then she released the spell. “We’re going to do what we came to do, Phoenix. You can keep this juvenile stupidity up or you can join us. It’s up to you.”
Marcus’ soft tread followed her and, after a few moments, she heard Phoenix’ angry footfall as well. A small knot of tension unwound in her stomach. The crisis had been averted for the moment but Phoenix was poised on a knife edge. They had to work out how to control his connection with Blódbál before it consumed him and he turned on them all.
With a shiver of foreboding, Jade tried to push the thought from her head and concentrate on the job at hand. As they reached the front gate, Heron joined them, excitedly waving a piece of papyrus.
“I’ve got it. Come on,” he almost shoved them out the door in his haste. “I’ll show you exactly where to break it in order to make it fall and cause the least amount of damage.”
She smiled at the old man, glad he was too distracted to notice the tension in the air.
Outside, they had to wait until a few stragglers left the market square. At last it emptied and they moved to the base of the column. Together, they looked up the imposing length of it.
“How big is it?” She whispered, awed by the sheer majesty of the thing. Straining to see in the gathering gloom, she tried reading the hieroglyphs. All she could see for sure was the name of Anuket in large pictographs. This was definitely a Tekhen that glorified her.
“It’s seventeen gradii,” Heron stated, consulting his notes by the light of the small terracotta lamp he carried.
Brynn and Marcus nodded, still staring at the pointed top of the stone column. Jade and Phoenix exchanged puzzled looks.
“Any idea what a gradii is?” Jade whispered.
“It’s about two and a half pedes,” Marcus informed them. When she continued to look blankly at him, he held his hands apart to indicate a distance.
“Looks like about three-quarters of a metre, to me,” Phoenix estimated. “So if one gradus is about seventy-five centimetres then the obelisk must be roughly....um....thirteen metres high?”
He glanced at Jade for confirmation. She shrugged.
“Math was never my strongest subject. I’ll believe you.”
Phoenix grinned and she blinked at him, amazed at the speed of his mood change. It was like he’d completely forgotten his anger of moments before.
Behind her, Marcus unhooked Mjölnir from his belt and hefted it in iron-clad hands.
“I’m not sure I want to give this back,” he murmured.
Brynn snickered. “I think Thor might have something to say about it if you kept it.”
Marcus nodded to Heron. “Where do I hit it?”
Heron laughed and slapped the stone with an open hand. “You think you can bring down this, with that little thing?”
“I know I can,” Marcus’ calm was unshaken. “Just tell me where to hit it.”
Heron shook his head. He pointed to a spot in the middle of the southern face, about four feet off the ground. “Hit just here as hard as you can then once on the north side about two gradii higher and not quite so hard. It should fall to the south, which is the biggest open area.”
Jade grabbed the back of Brynn’s shirt and hauled him a safe distance away, ignoring his irritated squawks. Phoenix and Heron joined them shortly after and she cast a protective shield to fend off any flying chunks. Marcus would have to make a dash for it once he’d delivered the blows.
Holding their breath, the little group watched as Marcus swung the hammer a few times. Each time it circled, Jade could see a faint, purple-blue trace in the darkness. Thunder rumbled in the distance and Heron glanced up in surprise.
With one last shoulder rotation, Marcus swung Mjölnir with all his strength. The head connected in the exact spot Heron had indicated. A spray of stone exploded around it and they heard the crack a fraction of a second later. A large section of the tekhen disintegrated. The sound was shocking in the dark, silent square. Marcus ran to the other side and delivered a second strike to that face. Without waiting, he turned and sprinted toward his friends, dashing behind the invisible shield to safety.
Then the inevitable, crumbling collapse of the ancient Egyptian monument began. It started slowly; so slowly it was hard to see in the evening gloom. Only by the snapping and crunching of stone could they tell anything was happening at all.
Brynn yelped, “Look!”
They all stared at the pointed tip of the obelisk, dark against the purple sky. Little by little, it began to lean toward the south. There were a series of loud cracks like gunshots. Several chunks of stone dropped out of the bottom, spraying dust and water from the fountain into the air.
The column gathered speed as it arced toward the cobbled ground. Jade quickly realised her letta spell had no where near the power needed to stop it or even slow it, so she gave up and just watched. With a creaking groan it whistled through the air, falling with ponderous grace. The tip hit first and snapped off, rebounding into the air before shattering on the pavement. The rest crashed to ground with the force of an earthquake. The sound reverberated through their chests and feet. Everyone clapped their hands over their ears in reaction. Stone, dust and cobbles flew through the air in all directions, pinging off walls and roofs fifty metres away. Jade’s shield spell shook under the impact of dozens of small missiles. Great lumps of rock smashed and bounced off towar
d the southern end of the square. The Tekhen of Anuket exploded into a thousand pieces of granite.
When the dust cleared a little, she dropped the shield and they hurried forward to inspect the result. Angry, frightened voices sounded as nearby residents questioned each other and tried to find out what was going on. Dozens rushed out of their houses. Holding lanterns, they stopped and stared in shock at the destruction.
Jade and the others ignored all of this. She stood, with narrowed eyes, inspecting the tekhen. Nothing had emerged from it; no Anuket; not even a trapped mouse. Brynn clambered around the shattered stones, possibly looking for hidden goddesses. Phoenix, Marcus and Heron all watched Jade expectantly.
“Is that it?” Brynn called from his perch on top of one large piece. “I mean, I kind of expected an escaping goddess to be a bit more ....y’know...spectacular.”
“He’s right,” Phoenix agreed. “Something should have happened by now. I mean, the release of an imprisoned deity should at least have some sort of lightshow; maybe a personal appearance; even a disembodied voice saying ‘thanks’ would be enough.”
Marcus picked up a piece of rubble and turned it over thoughtfully. “It does seem odd. Are you sure this was the right obelisk?”
“Hey,” Phoenix spread out his hands, “don’t look at me. Jade’s the one with the grey woman in her head telling her what to do. Ask her.”
Jade worried at her lip. There was absolutely no magic aura about the obelisk at all. Disappointment fisted in her stomach. Why hadn’t she checked it before? Because everyone had been so certain this was the right one that she didn’t think to. Closing her eyes, she struggled to recall the exact words spoken to her when she had been between-lives in Asgard.
Oh no. The dismay she felt must have shown on her face.
“What is it?” Marcus asked.
“I’ve just remembered. The instructions were to ‘use the Hammer of Thor to release Anuket from the tekhen that imprisons her’.” Jade opened her eyes. “It didn’t actually say which tekhen she was in – we just assumed it would be her own.”
“Oh fabulous,” Phoenix groaned. “And you said there were how many of these things in Alexandria, Heron?”
“Over a hundred, at least,” the old man replied, sounding disheartened.
“So what do we do now?” Phoenix’s harsh tone made Jade flinch. “We can hardly smash every one of them.”
Brynn appeared at her side and tugged on her sleeve. “I’d say we deal with the nice officer who’s just turned up.” He pointed across the square at the crowd now gathered around a Roman solider.
“Oh no,” Jade breathed. “Quick, Heron, you get back home and pretend you had nothing do to with this.” She gave the old man a push as he began to protest. Next, she turned to Marcus. Yanking out the Hyllion Bagia from beneath her shirt, she nodded to him. “Put Mjölnir into the Bag, Marcus, we can’t have it falling into the hands of the Roman army.”
Without argument, he dropped the weapon in then stripped off the iron gloves and belt and dropped them in, too.
“What about Blódbál,” she held out the bag toward Phoenix. “We can’t afford to lose it again.” She held her breath as he stared at her suspiciously. Would he give it up? Was this their chance to separate him from it for awhile?
He glanced over at the lone soldier and shook his head. “I think it’s pretty safe against one soldier.”
She tucked the bag away again. As the officer approached, Marcus stepped forward with a bow and a smile.
Hopeful that Marcus’ charm could divert suspicion, Jade kept half an eye on Phoenix, not sure what sort of mood he was in. He was watching the crowd so she listened briefly to the conversation between Marcus and the soldier. Marcus seemed to have the situation well in hand. He was telling the soldier that they had come out to investigate along with everyone else and had no idea what had caused the obelisk to fall. He sounded very believable; very much the aristocratic Roman.
She stared again at the fallen stone, nibbling her fingertip with worry. A quick glance around showed that Brynn had given up scurrying around the ruins and was now sliding amongst the crowd like a small eel. As she watched, she saw the boy deftly slip something into his pocket before disappearing into the growing crowd.
A growl nearby drew her attention back to Phoenix. He laid a hand on Blódbál’s hilt, his expression darkening into anger.
“Did you see that?” He elbowed Jade.
“What?” She was distracted by a rising swell of conversation at the back of the crowd. Someone new was coming. Someone important by the sounds of it.
“That kid is nothing but trouble,” Phoenix said, sounding bitter. “First he takes one of my lives, now he’s stealing again. We’ve got trouble enough on this quest without his thieving, conniving little ways. Maybe it’s time someone taught that brat a thing or two.”
Before she could stop him, he half-drew the sword. Several people in the crowd shrank back in fear as he stalked away after Brynn. Some of the crowd gasped; a woman screamed; many turned and fled back toward their houses.
Jade called after him twice but he seemed focussed. He didn’t even realise that the crowd weren’t fleeing him, they were running from the newcomer.
“Phoenix!” She ran to his side, dragging at his arm. “There’s trouble. We need your help.”
Phoenix grunted at her. “There sure is. Brynn’s been stealing and I’m about to teach him the lesson of his life.”
She tugged harder at his arm, pulling him around. “No, look!”
The cloud of anger in his eyes seemed to lift for a moment as he saw what she meant. The Roman soldier lay, crumpled and bloody, at Marcus’ feet. Half a dozen black arrows protruded from his back. Standing over the body, Marcus had his hands raised in the traditional sign of surrender.
Facing him in a loose semicircle were twenty men, bristling with swords and weapons. Four carried bows and the knocked arrows were pointed directly at Marcus’ heart. All his captors wore the black robes and blood-red masks of the Priests of Set.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The debris-strewn square emptied almost as fast as it had filled. Nobody wanted to risk an encounter with the soldier-priests of Set. Phoenix and Jade found themselves alone about twenty paces away from where Marcus stood. Phoenix briefly wondered where Brynn was, only to dismiss the boy as a coward for running with the crowd.
He gripped Blódbál’s hilt and revelled in the rush of power surging into his body. Gone was the post-poison weakness; gone the fleeting worry he’d felt about facing those toxic blades again. He knew what to expect now. They were no match for Blódbál.
He drew the sword; the sound of metal slickering loud in the tense silence of the night. Two of the priests turned their bows on him. Phoenix smiled as he saw the air before them shimmer faintly purple-blue. Jade had wrapped the archers in a shield spell. He knew she couldn’t hold it for long but it gave him the chance to get closer. He pulled out his dagger with his left hand and held it ready.
Marcus must have recognised the signs, too, for he snatched out his sword and ran back to join them. Jade stepped up from behind, her staff ready. The hooded priests began to move closer, trying to surround them. It was time for a battle.
“Don’t let their blades touch you,” Jade warned in a low voice.
“As if I’d forget that,” Phoenix growled, feeling a wave of anger at the memory of what Brynn had done; what all three of his supposed friends had done. His muscles clenched. Blódbál became an extension of his arm as the liquid warmth of it invaded his body. Its song soared in his mind. He felt like laughing; like spitting in the faces of these stupid little priests. They had no idea of what he was capable. They would all die - and stay dead.
“Close one eye. I’m going to launch lights at their faces. It might blind them long enough to give us and advantage,” Jade murmured. “When I douse the lights, open your eye and you should still be able to see.”
Phoenix and Marcus nodded. Seconds later,
half a dozen bright green witchlights flew from her fingertips like darts. Arrowing straight toward the priests, they danced in their faces. Flailing hands and swords passed right through them. One of the archers crumpled to the ground; perhaps accidentally struck by his companions.
“Now!” Jade’s shout was barely audible over the commotion. The lights snuffed out. Phoenix opened his eye and found he could see. His right eye saw fuzzy blackness but his left was fine. Confusing, yes but he was better off than the priests. With hoarse yell of triumph he sprang into action, Marcus by his side.
Once more he began to blend the circular movements of aikido with the classic swordfighting style his avatar knew. Once more it was devastatingly effective. A priest flung himself at the sound of their voices, his curved sword slicing through the air toward Phoenix’s throat. Phoenix spun aside, a deft block redirecting the sword harmlessly past. One quick stab and the man collapsed to the ground with a burbling groan.
A second attacker ran at him, weapon raised high. Phoenix stepped aside again, turned and sliced diagonally down, shearing through bone and sinew like butter. A sword came at him from behind. Blódbál warned him and his dagger hand jumped out to deflect. Again he turned, sliding his short blade along the priests’ before twisting it aside and slicing up from below with the sword.
Two advanced more slowly. From his right came the meaty sound of Jade’s staff slapping into someone’s stomach and the hollow crack of a head-strike. On the other, Marcus fought in efficient silence, his sword flashing in the dim light provided by a few distant lamps.
The priests leapt forward. Blódbál’s song rang loud in Phoenix’s head until he heard nothing else. It sang to him of triumph, of glory, of death and justice. It took his blood and boiled it free of all compassion. It invaded his mind and forged it into steel as hard as its own blade. Then, once it had made its owner into a weapon, it urged him forward into battle. No mercy, it sang; no survivors.
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