“Where can I find this Al-Iblis?” Nosferatu demanded.
“In the Sinai,” Al-Fatar said. “It is said he rules from Jabal Mosa, where the prophet Moses received the law from Allah. What those in the West call Mount Sinai.”
Nosferatu had never heard of the place or anyone named Moses, but he knew they could find it with that information. “What is Al-Iblis doing?”
“He is raising an army to fight in the name of Allah. To pursue a Jihad.” “What is a Jihad?” Nosferatu asked, the word not one he had heard before.
“A war of faith.” “Against whom?”
Al-Fatar shrugged. “It is not my concern, but the rumor is he wants to march on Egypt, that he seeks something underneath the Great Pyramid.”
Nosferatu wondered what Aspasia’s Shadow sought in Egypt. The Grail? Had he found the key to the Hall of Records? Or something else? Nosferatu nodded to Tian Dao Lin. He turned and slashed with the sword he had been given by Ts’ang Chieh cutting a hole in the side of the tent. They both dashed out the improvised exit and into the desert. Nosferatu was not surprised when there was no sound of pursuit.
• • •
Cing Ho Listened to Nosferatu and Tian Dao Lin’s report in the privacy of his cabin aboard the flagship. When they were done he unrolled a map across his large desk, pinning the ends down with small lead weights. The information on it was based on intelligence gathered, not firsthand knowledge, as no Chinese sailor had ever ventured so far from home.
“The Sinai is a large place” was Cing Ho’s summation, tapping the large blank space indicating a landmass between the Persian Gulf and the Red Sea. “You have no idea where exactly this mountain is?”
“No,” Nosferatu said.
Cing Ho seemed troubled. “This land is not very hospitable. I believe it will be difficult to find a landfall where we can get enough provisions for the entire fleet.”
Nosferatu remained silent. Cing Ho’s problems were not his. He and Tian Dao Lin had even considered not returning to the fleet, but the reality was that the Chinese armada was their best possible chance to overcome whatever force Aspasia’s Shadow was gathering. For Nosferatu the goal was to get Aspasia’s Shadow to reveal where Horus and the other three Airlia were in the deep sleep, so he could drain the blood from at least one of them for Nekhbet. For Tian Dao Lin the fleet was his best opportunity to return to his home in China and be in favor with Artad.
“I will land here,” Cing Ho finally decided, tapping a landfall on the Sinai next to the Red Sea. “However, there is something we must first do elsewhere.”
Nosferatu wondered what could be a higher priority than finding and killing Aspasia’s Shadow, but he kept the question to himself.
• • •
It took a week to sail around the tip of the Sinai. As they approached the Red Sea, Nosferatu felt a twinge of recognition. It had been many, many years since he had sailed out of the Red Sea on a flimsy reed boat, escaping from Egypt and the Airlia Gods.
Nosferatu received a second unexpected surprise when, instead of turning to the northwest and entering the Red Sea, they cut south across the Gulf of Aden to the shore of Africa and actually turned to the east, paralleling the shore, in the same manner Nosferatu had done so many years previously. For a moment, as he saw the shore of Africa appear, he feared that somehow Cing Ho knew where Nekhbet was hidden and was heading for her; but he realized the ridiculousness of that fear immediately. He had told no one, not even Tian Dao Lin, where he had hidden his love. And why would Cing Ho—or his master, Artad—care? Nosferatu knew that the Chinese admiral was on some other mission, most likely something to do with whatever was locked in the vault near the bow of the ship.
They sailed along the Somalian coast before making landfall in a natural harbor. A small village was on the shore and Cing Ho had all the villagers put to the sword. That evening, under the cover of darkness, Cing Ho went to the forward hold and unlocked the door. A heavy wooden crate was brought out and rowed ashore. Two long poles were slid through hinges on either side. Cing Ho formed a division of two thousand soldiers on the beach, the crate secure in the middle, carried by a dozen men on each pole.
Nosferatu and Tian Dao Lin watched from the deck of the flagship as the formation moved inland. Cing Ho had not said a word to them, so by default they were being left with the fleet.
“Where do you think they are going?” Tian Dao Lin asked.
Nosferatu shrugged. “What is more important is what it is that they are carrying. It is more important than Aspasia’s Shadow.”
“Perhaps it has something to do with Aspasia’s Shadow,” Tian Dao Lin suggested.
“How can that be?”
It was Tian Dao Lin’s turn to shrug. “I do not know, but Artad is obviously very wise and his reach is long.”
“There is one way to find out,” Nosferatu said. “You remain here. Keep up the pretense that I remain in our cabin. I will follow.” The Chinese had not watched the two very carefully, primarily because jumping ship in the middle of nowhere wasn’t considered a viable option.
Nosferatu had no problem slipping off the flagship undetected. It was also easy to follow the trail of Cing Ho’s army inland as they cut a broad swath through the jungle. Nosferatu quickly caught up to the army. He followed for two weeks, sleeping during the day while the army marched and catching up every evening.
The terrain quickly grew more rugged and mountainous. Near the end of the second week the army entered the strangest land Nosferatu had ever seen. It was as if a giant had smashed the Earth with a large axe, leaving a massive rift in the surface. A river ran in the bottom of the rift and sharp peaks surrounded it on both sides. Nosferatu followed the army down into the rift.
After two days of difficult maneuvering north, the army came to a halt. That evening Nosferatu watched from a nearby hill as Cing Ho gathered a small group of his most trusted warriors around the mysterious box. They were lined up next to the wall of the rift and Nosferatu blinked in amazement as they turned toward the wall and seemed to disappear from view. He realized there must be an opening, perhaps a cave in the rift wall. He crept down through the Chinese camp to the spot and saw an opening behind a boulder. He could see the glow from the torches of those who had entered ahead and he followed, keeping his distance.
The small tunnel soon opened into a sloping cavern over five hundred meters wide, the ceiling over a hundred meters high. Nosferatu knew from his time in the Roads of Rostau and Qian-Ling that this was not a natural formation but the work of the Airlia Gods. For as far as he could see the cavern descended into the Earth at the same angle. Cing Ho’s party was a glowing spot about eight hundred meters ahead.
Nosferatu followed. The cavern grew even wider until he couldn’t see either side. While the Black Sphinx and Qian-Ling had been magnificent in their own ways, this cavern made Nosferatu wonder at the true power of the Airlia. He felt as if he were descending to the very center of the Earth as he continued to follow Cing Ho’s party down the steady slope.
He realized that the temperature, which had been cooler than the outside when he first entered the cavern, was beginning to rise. Then, far ahead, he could make out a faint thin red glowing line. As he got closer he could see that a crevice split the cavern floor. The far side of the crevice was over half a mile away. Nosferatu swung to the right as Cing Ho’s party reached the crevice and came to a halt.
Sliding to the edge of the crevice, Nosferatu peered down. The walls were vertical and there was no bottom that he could see, just a bright red glow pulsating upward. He could feel the wave of heat coming from the bowels of the planet. It was a mesmerizing vision and, with great difficulty, he drew his attention back to Cing Ho as he heard the faint echo of the Chinese admiral giving orders to his men.
Nosferatu saw that there was a console, similar to the one he had seen in Qian-Ling, near the edge. Cing Ho was standing behind it, his hands moving over the surface, his face reflected in a glow. Nosferatu moved back and a
bove the site. He could see that the surface of the console was like that on his own tube—covered with hexagonals with High Rune writing.
Cing Ho tapped several of the hexes as two of his men used bars to break open the crate. As the wood fell away it revealed a large, dull red, multifaceted sphere. Other soldiers gathered round the sphere and, at Cing Ho’s command, carefully edged it toward the edge of the chasm.
Cing Ho hit another hex and a black metal pole came out of the side of the chasm. Then another. And another. The three poles stopped when they were extended about fifteen meters out. Three intrepid soldiers climbed down and balanced themselves on the poles as the other slid the red sphere over the edge. As soon as they had the sphere balanced precariously on the poles, the soldiers quickly moved out of the way.
Cing Ho continued to work the console and cables snaked out of the poles, wrapping around the sphere. Then the poles began to extend once more. As they did so they spread apart. The sphere suddenly dropped, only to come to a halt five meters below, suspended from the cables. The poles continued to extend until they had bridged the chasm and the sphere was directly in the center.
Cing Ho ordered his men back. Then he hit one last hexagonal.
Nosferatu dived to the floor as the sphere gave off a fierce red glow, bathing the immediate area with light. Cing Ho and the soldiers were so focused on the sphere that they didn’t spot him. A shelf slid out of the console, and upon it rested a small black sphere that Cing Ho removed and placed in a leather satchel at his side. Nosferatu got to his feet and ran back up the cavern into the darkness.
Looking over his shoulder he could see that Cing Ho and his men were also heading back.
Nosferatu sprinted on, keeping ahead of the group. Heading upslope, the cavern seemed even larger. He had no idea how long they had been underground, but his internal sense of time told him that it would be daylight. He moved to the right, out of the direct path to the exit, and allowed Cing Ho and his men to pass.
He sat down on the smooth stone to wait. Cing Ho and his group passed out of sight. Nosferatu had no idea what he had just witnessed, but he was sure there was great power revolving around the mysterious red sphere.
Several hours later, Nosferatu heard the sound of metal on stone echoing down the cavern. He panicked, worried that Cing Ho was sealing the cavern from the outside. He dashed upslope until he could see several torches near the entrance, but quickly came to a halt when he realized they weren’t blocking the entrance. They had erected a black stone, three meters high by one in width. Several men were polishing the surface smooth while another was chiseling something on it as soon as they finished a spot.
This went on for several hours, then the group departed, leaving Nosferatu in darkness once more. He went up to the stone. He could just make out the Chinese writing. He’d learned the language while on board ship and he read the words: Cing Ho reached this place as directed. He did his duty as ordered.
• • •
They made landfall at Jidda, a small port along the Arabian coast. Nosferatu had easily beaten Cing Ho and his men back to the fleet and told Tian Dao Lin about what he had witnessed. They discussed it at length but had to accept that they had no idea what the purpose of putting the ruby sphere in the cavern could be. They also discovered that Cing Ho had had every man who’d gone into the cavern with him executed during the march back, their bodies buried in the barren countryside.
Leaving a guard force of five thousand sailors, Cing Ho led the rest of the contingent, roughly twenty-three thousand men, ashore. He took the entire town of Jidda hostage and located Jabal Mosa by the expedient methods of torture and execution.
Finding the mountain’s location was easy, but getting there would be another matter. According to the information they received, the mountain was located inland, across inhospitable desert. Cing Ho approached it as if they were simply continuing their long voyage on land. Numerous water casks were unloaded from the ships, along with other provisions, and the army set forth with several captives who claimed to know the location of the mountain at the head of the column. They marched at night, resting during the heat of the day.
Nosferatu and Tian Dao Lin rose each evening and ranged out from the long, dusty column, searching the countryside. On the fourth evening, the two crested a small hill and looked to the south and east. They could see two mountains in the distance. Looking back the way they had come, they could see a plume of dust indicating the progress of Admiral Ho’s column, the lead about a half mile behind them.
Nosferatu knew without having to consult any of the captives that the mountain to the left was Jabal Mosa even though the other was taller. It was a jagged peak, with a gray cloud swirling around the top, a most strange phenomenon as the sky was otherwise clear, the stars sparkling overhead.
They waited until Cing Ho rode up to their position. The Chinese admiral stared at the two peaks for several moments in silence, then he spoke. “The locals—the desert people—they worship the mountain. They say a demon lives there.”
“That would fit,” Nosferatu said. “Aspasia’s Shadow enjoys sowing fear.”
“I will encircle the mountain this evening. Tomorrow evening we will assault it. You will follow the assault to finish off Aspasia’s Shadow once we have him cornered.”
Nosferatu said nothing as Cing Ho went off to deploy his large army. When he was out of earshot, Tian Dao Lin expressed what Nosferatu was thinking. “It has been too easy.”
Nosferatu continued to stare at the cloud-crowned peak. “Thus far it has. I think that will change tomorrow evening.”
• • •
As dawn broke, Nosferatu and Tian Dao Lin sat on the hill, their bodies draped in robes, turbans wrapped around their faces, protecting their eyes. Through the layers of cloth both could see the dust raised by the Chinese army as it moved forward toward Jabal Mosa. Bugles relayed commands, keeping the advance coordinated. By early afternoon the mountain was surrounded by a cordon of troops.
“There is something strange about the mountain,” Tian Dao Lin said. “One can understand why the local people believe it is haunted.”
The unnatural cloud that swirled around the peak had not dissipated all day and yet remained. There wasn’t any sign of life on the slopes of the mountain even though Cing Ho made no attempt to hide his preparations for attack.
As darkness fell, the thousands of torches that the Chinese soldiers had carried with them were lit, encircling Jabal Mosa with a ring of fire. Nosferatu sniffed the air. “Something is not right.”
Tian Dao Lin was looking about, left and right. “We’re not alone. Humans. Close. Behind us.”
Nosferatu saw nothing, but he could smell the sweat of men. He stood when a half dozen figures appeared, bows with drawn arrows in their hands. Nosferatu and Tian Dao Lin drew their own weapons, prepared to give battle.
“Hold.” The language was that of the Airlia, followed immediately by something in Arabic to the warriors. The speaker strode forward.
“You must have come close to Artad,” Aspasia’s Shadow said, coming to a halt in front of the two Undead. He looked past them at the circle of fire and laughed. “But you did not slay him it appears. You have been gone a very long time.” He looked at Tian Dao Lin. “Another half-breed. By Artad?”
Tian Dao Lin nodded. “Artad is my father.”
“It is rather amazing that the Airlia have been viewed as Gods for so long considering how they seem to want to consort with inferior species.” He gestured back the way he had come. “Come with me.”
“Where?” Nosferatu held fast.
“Come with me or die here and now.”
Nosferatu and Tian Dao Lin bowed to the inevitable and irresistible and followed Aspasia’s Shadow as he made his way down the hill. More Bedouin warriors appeared in the dark, completely surrounding them. Peering about, Nosferatu realized there was a massive army of Bedouins surrounding the Chinese. How so many had managed to move up unnoticed he didn’t know, b
ut if anyone could do it here, he knew it would be the desert people.
Aspasia’s Shadow seemed to disappear behind a boulder and when they followed, they discovered a door, similar to the guarded entrances to the Roads of Rostau, that opened on the back side of the boulder. They entered along with a guard of a dozen Bedouin warriors. As soon as they were all inside, the door slid shut.
The corridor was dimly lit by recessed lighting of a form Nosferatu had never seen before. They descended, then reached a long, straight tunnel of smoothly cut stone. They went along the tunnel for quite a while and Nosferatu realized they were passing underneath the encircling Chinese troops. Soon the tunnel began to ascend and they entered a large hallway with wood doors along both sides.
Aspasia’s Shadow halted in front of one of the doors. “Now you will see my power.” He opened the door and walked down a short corridor. A second door, this one of black metal, slid open at his approach. “Stand here,” Aspasia’s Shadow ordered, indicating the entryway.
Nosferatu and Tian Dao Lin went to the indicated location and looked into the strange room. Aspasia’s Shadow went to the center of a hemispheric chamber. He pulled a sword out of a sheath on his side and slid it into a dark red crystal directly in front of him. A golden field emanated from the pommel of the sword, covering Aspasia’s Shadow and reaching the walls. Nosferatu felt it pass over his skin with a crackle, the same feeling he’d had sometimes at sea during a storm when lightning played along the masts of the ship.
The walls came alive with a view of the terrain surrounding Jabal Mosa. It was as if they were standing on the top and able to look in all directions. The ring of approaching Chinese troops was readily apparent, with every fifth man carrying a torch.
What Nosferatu and Tian Dao Lin couldn’t see was the fifty-foot black metal pole that extended up out of the top of the mountain. Mounted on the very end was a golden sphere, which was hidden inside the black swirling cloud covering the peak.
• • •
Aspasia’s shadow directed his gaze toward a section of the incoming Chinese line. His hand was on the pommel of the sword. He squeezed the grip.
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