by Chris Fox
“Yes, mistress.” Another bow. “Ten legions are waiting beyond the tear, and can flood the Word of Xal on your command. Our agents within the ship have already secured a hidden landing zone well away from occupied areas. They’ll move to assault Highspire first. Ten more stand ready to assault the Spellship.”
“Oh?” Devourer asked mildly. “Have you not already done that?”
“Assaulted the Spellship?” Jolene wilted, and the stench of urine filled the chamber. “I—I—”
“You detonated a bomb aboard the Spellship. You attempted to assassinate one of two officers controlling a Great Ship, and a potential new ally of the Confederacy. You even managed to kill one of the life goddesses’s pets in the process. Killing anything belonging to a life goddess is pointless, beyond making an enemy. She’ll merely bring them back.” The Devourer leaned in close and whispered into Jolene’s ear. “I will kill you for that. But not yet. Savor your last years of life. Perhaps I will let you live for as much as a decade. But I cannot condone such foolishness any longer than that. Unless….”
“Unless?” Jolene perked up a bit, though there was no steel in her spine. Well, no steel beyond what the Devourer had surgically implanted.
“Unless you finish what you’ve started. You will have the opportunity to kill this Jerek. Take it. Bring his armor to me, at any cost. Living. Dead. I don’t care.” She scuttled to the far side of the office, and marveled at the holographic representation of the moon. “Before you take your place at the head of the Highspire assault, begin the orbital assault. Fire the main cannon on the Spellship, then deploy our fleet as discussed. Don’t bother me with details. Overwhelm the Spellship. I will see to the Word of Xal’s bridge crew.”
The Devourer settled back on her harness, and watched the events she’d so carefully orchestrated unfold. If her visions were correct she would kill a god today, and gain his power. She would need to join the assault on the Word, but until then she wanted to watch this “Lady Voria” learn that eating some divinity did not a goddess make. That Spellship was potent, but without a true god at the helm it wasn’t much more than a Great Ship. Since her visions insisted Inura would be on the Word of Xal, that meant that Voria would be running the Spellship…ineptly.
She’d have plenty of time to deal with her grandfather, and her true target in all of this, the one that would provide her future seat of power. She was going to murder the captain of the Word of Xal, and take her armor, the key to the vessel. The current guardian would hate that an unliving served as captain, and would protest the necrotech refitting, but he would serve her. The trials would be a formality. A Kem’Hedj game, something to scare her, and maybe a command decision. Trivial.
She’d been an Outrider a long time, and understood dragonflight-era tech. Everything existed to serve, and the Guardian would have no choice. First she needed to take the ship, though.
The moon shook around her as the newly retrofitted main cannon fired. This time, instead of the focused heat blast that would melt a full capital ship to slag, it fired a river of souls. Many of those souls had been the citizens of this very moon, repurposed by soulforges into weapons against their enemies.
Wards sprang to vibrant life around the Spellship, and they shunted away the endless river of souls. The Devourer smiled. The souls were shunted in all directions…hundreds of millions of them. A fleet glittered around the Spellship. Ternus ships. Yantharan ships. Nearly all of them received a smattering of unliving, from wights to wraiths, to worse.
Unfortunately, a single ship seemed to be turning the tide. The flaming black vessel glittered beside the Spellship, a tiny cruiser whose hull leaked fire and void magic, and one that was belching divine spells, destroying thousands of souls with each pass.
Ahh, the legendary Talon, now under the control of a fire god, this Crewes. Eventually she’d slay him in personal combat, and relished that day. Such duels between martial gods were rare, and to be savored. For now, though, she had other targets.
“Again!” the Devourer roared at Jolene, who cowered in the far side of the room as she issued orders through a necrotech tablet.
The moon’s cannon charged again, and she rolled her head back and laughed. This had been her invention, something she hadn’t even told her mother about. She’d retrofitted the main cannon with three batteries. Those reservoirs took forever to fill, but the gun could fire three times without resting.
A Great Ship’s wards were incredible, and the second shot was shunted as the first, and as the first it created problems throughout the fleet. It was unlikely any ships would fall entirely, but there would be casualties on all of them, and Voria would know that she had caused them.
This time the Talon struggled to catch them all, and more damage was inflicted on the fleet. The fire god was good, but there were simply too many targets.
The third shot discolored the wards, and then broke them. Thousands of souls flooded through holes in the magical defenses. More importantly, their forces lurking in the spirit realm were now able to strike. The wards kept tears from being opened inside, but now? Now the slaughter could truly begin.
Voria would deal with the incursion, of course. She’d stop some of the death, and eventually wipe out the entire assault force. It would fail. But by then the Tri-Cannon would be ready to fire again, and Inura would be dead. The Devourer would be able to focus her full attention on “the Lady”, and would cut her down just as she did her grandfather.
She smiled grimly as a cloud of necrotech capital ships rose from the trade moon. Two hundred pristine bone vessels headed for the smaller Confederate fleet. They fanned out, and began to engage targets. A wave of fighters left the world next, quickly intercepting the battle and adding a withering hail of spirit bolts.
The Confederate forces, especially the Ternus ships, proved surprisingly effective against her forces. Their battleships launched some sort of missiles, which detonated into a cloud about a kilometer away from each necrotech ship. The material it bombarded them with drained magic, which meant the shrapnel tore through wards and cockpits alike with little resistance. The results were…horrifically impressive.
When backed by the Talon, which had begun to focus on her larger ships, the battle did not seem to favor her. Until another fleet lifted off, and another. One would lift off every twelve seconds for the next five minutes.
By then her opponent would be dead, and the Word would belong to her.
The Devourer translocated to the bridge of the Word of Xal, exactly as she’d seen in her vision. The defenders on the bridge were caught completely unawares, and no spells or defenses were triggered by her arrival. Amateurs.
Only three people manned the bridge. Inura, standing behind the human captain in the spell matrix, in a vulnerable mortal form. She cared little for the winged primp.
That woman wore the Heka Aten armor, the key to this ship. Behind her a child with a bit of life magic in a technician’s garb. One of the hopefuls Inura took to his bed, no doubt. As he had taken her, and her mother, and countless others. She dismissed the child for the time being.
“Hello, grandfather. I’ll just be a moment.” She flung a hand out at the captain, and yanked away the woman’s will with the insatiable force of a master binder. The child-captain would obey her commands, until the spell was broken. “Give me your name, child.”
“I am Irala, Captain of the Word of Xal.” The woman choked out the words, against her will. It still counted.
“Thank you, Captain.” The Devourer distended her jaw, and took a step closer to the matrix. A dainty mouth stretched impossibly wide, two meters or more, and ghostly white tendrils erupted from her maw to seize the captain.
Then the tendrils yanked backwards, and tore the woman’s name, and her soul, from her body. It ripped her essence, everything she was, into the Devourer’s maw. She consumed the divinity, and for a split second, was whole…satiated. Her old self. Almost she could remember her name.
And then the hunger ret
urned.
The captain’s lifeless body toppled to the floor of the matrix, leaving the vessel effectively without a captain since her brother had taken the only other officer along on whatever schemes he’d hatched. She feared Utred more than mother, but right now must focus on her own schemes.
“What have you done?” Inura thundered. His hand extended, and a void pocket opened. He snatched out a feathersteel rapier, the eldimagus both ancient and powerful, but ultimately of little note.
“I have murdered the captain, and ripped her name from existence. Even her children don’t know her now.” The Devourer cocked her head. “Now I will murder you, and devour your name. I didn’t expect you to be armed. Can you actually fight? Have you ever won a duel? With anyone? I could best you as a mortal, grandfather, and now I am the finest swordswoman in the sector. Perhaps the galaxy. And you’re going to come at me with a sword?”
He shoved the girl behind him, and she caught a flash of life as he passed something to her. Ahh. His codex. A divine diary of sorts. So he knew he was about to die. Well, after she killed Inura she’d simply hunt down the girl, and devour that too.
“Would you like to make the first attack?” The Devourer extended her own hand, and flicked her wrist. A spectral scythe appeared, far larger than Inura’s weapon. It afforded her reach, and meant he’d have to come inside it to launch an attack.
If he possessed a single advantage it would be speed. Once in close, her weapon would be comparatively slow, which he no doubt counted on. She’d reached for the scythe intentionally, of course.
“I would. First let me stick something in your craw, Devourer.” Inura twirled his blade in the kind of artfully useless flourish fops who’d never fought loved. “You aren’t the finest swordsman. I can promise you that. You’re going to meet him. Soon. And I don’t think you’re going to enjoy that meeting very much.”
Her grandfather bellowed a war cry and charged. He moved like a toddler. A gifted toddler, maybe, but still a toddler.
Inura ducked low, and went into a skid, then used his blade to slice one of the legs off her harness. The sudden speed and brutality took her aback, and almost she missed her opportunity. Almost.
Twelve soulspikes erupted from her harness, each slamming into a different part of the life god’s body. Well, demigod, really, in this diminished state. The spikes were attached to chains, which whipped around his body, and pinned his wings and tail against his arms and legs.
The god slammed into the deck, and slid a few meters away. He struggled to remove the chains, but they prevented spellcasting. They also prevented translocation.
“What is your name, grandfather?” She purred as she leaned down with her harness. “Give it to me. End it.”
“You can devour my essence,” Inura hissed. His eyes narrowed defiantly. “My name will survive. My children will prosper. For the first time they will break the consortium, and become who they were meant to be. I have foreseen it. My death is a necessary part of that. Claim me then. But know that I chose this. I chose it because I failed you, Aloriah. And know that there is hope. A name is never truly gone.”
She raised her scythe, and then brought it down in a wicked strike against Inura’s neck. The blade easily separated flesh and bone, and sent his arrogant face spinning away, where it bounced against the wall. Just like that she’d created countless thousands of orphans.
The Devourer distended her jaw once more, and claimed her victory feast. This time her satiation lasted nearly three seconds, the longest she’d had since the waning days of the godswar that had ended the dragonflights.
A most satisfying meal.
She turned to glance at the Heka Aten spellarmor, and the corpse wearing it. She raised a hand, and animated the corpse, then opened a tear into the spirit world. “Go. Take the armor back to the moon.”
The nameless woman’s corpse stepped wordlessly through the tear, and she closed it behind her.
Now then…about that child with the codex. She recognized her garb. A lurker. One of her own vassals. How very fitting that she be devoured by a goddess she hadn’t even known her people had served.
20
The first thing I realized when I got back to the inn was that my helmet was missing. I’d had it when I went into the Catalyst, but both the duct-taped version, and the much more valuable Heka Aten helmet, were gone.
My heartbeat thundered, and I paced back and forth in my room…until I realized what might have happened. I willed the mask to slither over my face, praying that somehow the armor had been repaired. I badly needed a win.
Yes! The mask flowed into place. My armor was whole again. What’s more, the paper doll now had some sort of ablative shielding that the water Catalyst had provided. Ice, basically, a thick layer of it that grew on the outside of the armor during combat to blunt incoming blows.
“Dez?” I drew my pistol, as I hadn’t checked in since we’d had our vision.
I live. The pistol’s voice was subdued. You were right, father. I should have listened. Some power comes with a terrible price.
“What do you mean?” I willed my helmet to slither back into the armor.
I have…a conscience now. I have taken on the aspect of a water god. A god of peace. It…I do not like it. Before I could simply kill, and be content that my purpose had been served. Now? What if we kill an innocent? We must take great care.
I wasn’t certain how to respond to the fact that my gun had grown a conscience, but right now it seemed like a good thing. I hadn’t enjoyed the bloodthirsty killer. “It’s uncomfortable at first, but there is value in your conscience. Learn to listen to it, and do not do things that you cannot live with. I use my conscience when aiming you. It is fitting you use it too. I’m proud of you.”
Dez didn’t answer with words, but she emitted a grateful thrum as I holstered her.
Now that I’d catalogued my power ups it was time to think about what came next. I’d asked my team for a little privacy, because I knew that my vague idea needed time to germinate before it became a full plan.
The city existed in all places. It could be reached by those in need. Gods used prayer as their messaging system, both for missives, and to deliver powers. Once a covenant had been established, as between Nara and I, we were linked.
Did you need some sort of physical key to the city? Hmm. Probably not, as that was impractical to distribute. You wouldn’t be able to bring people who’d never been before from distant realities, which seemed a gross oversight in my model.
So how did you invite people then? You needed to forge a link, and you had to be able to do it from anywhere. The only means of doing that I knew of was…a covenant.
I dropped to my knees. It couldn’t be that easy.
“Great city of Sanctuary, city of peace,” I began…making up the prayer on the fly. “I petition you for a covenant. I seek to give you a piece of my soul, my worship, and in exchange be granted succor within your walls. I am trapped in a hostile place, unable to reach the people who need me. I am in need of aid I cannot find here, or many innocents will suffer. I must be allowed entry. Please.”
Then I closed my eyes, bowed my head, and waited.
Nothing happened. Oh, well, worth a shot.
I opened my eyes…and to my shock stared at the strangest creature sitting on my bed. He stood to about waist height, so slightly taller than a drifter, and with much broader shoulders. His whole body bulged with muscle, and callouses lined his hands. A thick scarlet beard bristled from his chin, and grew down his chest like kudzu.
“I accept your Covenant, lad.” He scratched at a bulbous nose. “You are granted entry to the city.
“But what about my—”
“Should have thought about them before you prayed. Bet they’ll be really confused by your absence.” Then we were elsewhere. There was no flash, or vertigo, or discomfort. The air pressure and gravity were identical at our arrival point.
To my immense shock I glanced around to see the same
fluted gold towers from Hotep’s vision. I’d made it inside the city. And, in the back of my head, Utred wordlessly rejoiced. I ignored him for the time being, and focused on the creature that had brought me here. I couldn’t desert my friends, but I could spare five minutes to figure out what had just happened.
“What species are you? I mean, if that isn’t rude to ask.” Not knowing would drive me mad, and theoretically we had a bit of time to talk. My friends would be expecting me at breakfast soon, but as long as I got this guy to put me back within a few hours I was certainly they’d forgive me.
“Hmm, interesting question.” He stroked at his beard and muttered as if debating the answer with himself. “I most resemble a dwarf, though in terms of power and true nature I am more alike to an earthen. I am the last living eldest god that I know of. A true titan, if you can believe that.”
I vaguely remembered my Divinities class, which mentioned something called a false titan. A true titan sounded stronger than that, which put this guy at the top of the food chain.
I took a moment to survey the city around me. This place was simply amazing, exactly as it had appeared in my vision, despite the fact that the vision had occurred before the Cycle had been created. Had it really not changed at all in the entire duration of history?
“Time doesn’t pass here,” the god explained, as if privy to my thoughts. “We are outside time. Outside the Cycle. No one can scry us, or listen in, or detect our conversation, save that stowaway in your head.” The dwarf reached up and tapped my forehead. “Also, while you were rude and didn’t ask it, my name is Reevanthara. You can call me Reeva.”
“I’m—”
“I know who you are.” Reeva gave a good natured belly laugh. “Come, come. Let’s get some food while I bring you up to speed.”
I numbly followed the god up a broad thoroughfare, and into one of the fluted towers. A table had been set with an array of recognizable foods. Every last one was something I personally loved, and all of them hailed from Kemet. Chocolate pie. Pumpkin pie. Apple pie. Various cakes. Cheeseburgers. Brownies. Pizza.