Artificial Light (Evolution of Angels Book 3)

by Wall, Nathan

  She kicked a chair, launching it at Sobek. His sword appeared in his right hand and sliced through the flying object. The two sides soared past him. A spear took shape in his hands and he thrust it toward Khali. She kicked one leg over the other, flipping herself sideways into the air, rotating. The spear went under her. She unwrapped her arms. The Urumi blades crackled out and snapped across Sobek’s chest.

  He tripped backward. Khali pursued. Her weapon wrapped around his ankle. She tugged and his feet gave way. He landed on his back and stomped on her metal whip. The tug bent her forward. His elbow swiped off her chin as he kicked to his feet. Jab. Hook. Roundhouse. Sobek pushed her back despite his shoulder bones grinding into dust.

  Khali’s two Urumi stiffened, forming long serrated blades. She spun. The swords whistled in the air. Sobek’s spear morphed into a shield and the two opposing forces sparked. Deafening bursts filled the room. Sobek shoved forward, his shield up, covering his shoulder. He pivoted with his back foot as his scimitar deflected one of her strikes. The rim of his shield shoved into her throat. Her trachea ruptured. She slid across the floor with arms outstretched. Her facial armor crawled back into her breast plate. She hacked, unable to breathe cleanly.

  Sobek lowered his shield, panting. He labored to move closer to her, standing tall at her feet. Small trickles of blood slid out of her nostrils. His shield vanished and he folded his hands. A broad sword took form. He painstakingly raised it over his head, ready to drive it through her. Her glance twitched, looking behind Sobek in an unintended giveaway. He spun around, swiping his sword down in a diagonal motion.

  Skanda, Khali’s son, rolled to his left and evaded the hulking blow. He was a blur, seemingly in one spot and then another on the opposite side of the room. His speed was such that he looked to have eight or nine doubles. Before Sobek could raise his shield, a dozen cuts slashed across his body. He fell to his knees, writhing in pain.

  The shaking haze that was Skanda slowly fused, almost oozing together at a snail’s pace. His body vibrated so fast it looked like there were several heads and arms connected to his torso. Finally, he turned into a solid state. He knelt next to his mother and she grabbed his right wrist, squeezing tightly.

  “She’ll live,” Sobek coughed, his face down but his focus turned up and locked on Skanda. As he ground his teeth together underneath his helmet, his eyes grew dimmer on the outside of his mask.

  “But you won’t,” Skanda whispered, rubbing his mother’s face with the back of his hand. He squeezed her arm and lowered it to her chest. He slightly turned his face toward Sobek.

  Sobek roared, using all his strength to lift his sword with his one good arm. He jabbed it at Skanda, but his enemy just chuckled in reply. Before Sobek could even finish his lunge, a hundred stings burned his nerves. He collapsed, bleeding from puncture wounds all over. Skanda kicked Sobek onto his back. Two small knives in Skanda’s hands dripped with crimson. Sobek’s crocodile helmet vanished.

  “Old and slow.” Skanda cocked his head with a taunting smile. His teeth were slightly crooked but still perfectly white. He resembled a young Shiva, but had Khali’s radiant eyes and long, straight locks. Kneeling beside Sobek, he ran his fingers through his prey’s thinning hair. He spun the knife in his right hand between his fingers. The whizzing blade sounded like a lumber saw. “Make way for the new.”

  Sobek stuck a short knife into Skanda’s armpit and rolled out of the way. He crawled for the exit. Skanda pulled the blade from his flesh and stood. A whip took form in his hands. He cracked it, wrapping it around Sobek’s ankle and pulling him back. He kicked Sobek in the chin and knocked him out. Bringing his duel daggers back, he kneeled behind Sobek, ready to slice his throat.

  “To all of Vishnu’s scum who’ve infected this ship, and those under the Southern banner who’ve turned against us, know there is still one that remains who opposes you.” Horus’ voice echoed out through the intercom systems. “I know what you’re here for, and I’m in possession of it. Both sides of this battle are running low on time. This planet crumbles beneath our feet and soon we’ll be sucked through the event horizon. There are hundreds of innocent lives that hang in the balance, and a few old warriors I’d like to save. Deliver them to me and you’ll get what you came for.”

  Skanda looked over to his mom, ready to take Sobek’s head. Khali waved him off. He dropped Sobek reluctantly.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Horus III

  Two angels in orange aurascales—the banner of Vishnu—surrounded Horus. They stared him down like poachers with an arrogant gleam in their eyes. The reward for the prince had been announced for all to hear. Bring him to Shiva, dead or alive, and receive higher rank and the spoils which accompany it. This pair salivated just as the rest had. Over-confidence would be the end of them as well.

  They lunged but Horus was too well trained. He countered the first assailant’s blade-swipe by stepping to the left, pushing their sword up, and sliding his weapon down theirs to slice across their belly. The angel hunched over and pressed his hands against his stomach to keep what rushed from the wound inside.

  The second swung a bo staff. Energy sizzled from the ends of the metal rod. Horus rolled forward and the strike intended for him punctured the wall instead. He slid to his knees and cut the enemy’s Achilles tendon. The angel toppled backward. Horus spun and shoved his weapon into the collapsed angel’s neck.

  There was someone else behind him. From his knees, he turned back and stuck his sword on the precipice of Anubis’ neck, only stopping when realizing it was his cousin. Horus stood and his weapons dematerialized into his aurascales. The feathered head guard retracted into the shoulder plates.

  “You’ve not gone?” Anubis asked. He held Isis like a young child in his arms.

  “Mother—is she…” Horus ran his hand over the goose egg on her forehead. He grabbed Anubis’ shoulder tightly. Words couldn’t express the burden lifted off his chest, or the gratitude he felt towards his cousin, knowing his mother was safe. “My heart said to return. My instincts were correct.”

  “It is a good thing you had me stay.” Anubis offered his aunt to Horus who gladly accepted her. The snapping gears of readjusting walls around the corner, at the end of the corridor, snared his attention. “I have a chariot ready to make leave.”

  “See my mother makes it safely.” Horus attempted to give his mother back to Anubis, but his cousin stepped away, refusing. “Take her.”

  “You’ll stay behind.” Anubis folded his arms.

  “Are you disobeying me?” Horus squinted, though he couldn’t really be angry with Anubis. He’d do the same thing. “I suppose you feel like fighting by my side?”

  “Sobek said to leave.” Anubis shook his head. “We should.”

  “I can’t do that.” Horus motioned for them to duck into one of the private quarters just off the hallway. Inside, blotchy patches of rust lined the walls and floor. A small, puffy, white sheep doll at his feet was stained cabernet. Just inside the entryway, three bodies lay piled in the dark. The child, a girl of maybe three years, was draped backwards over her parents with her arms sprawled out, her mouth gaping, and her eyes wide and staring blankly. Anubis averted his eyes, but Horus stared down at them. A fire roared inside his chest.

  The apartment was four small rooms. Two fit for beds, one a living area, and the last a small closet with a toilet. Showers were granted on a scheduled basis for all common-level residents at a community post on level five, and their meals were had at the mess hall.

  This style of unit was common for the families of their Corner, but it was dwarfed in size by Isis’ private sleeping chamber. This apartment used to be a barracks for those in Amun’s legion. Since their Corner downsized to a single Armada cruiser after the Last Great War, the military housing was restyled for a more domestic feel, though it never seemed it. The standard one-child policy was implemented for the lower guard angels when Horus was in his teens—rules the likes of Khnum and Amun never had to obey.


  The disparity in treatment had always infuriated Horus. Though he understood that those governing and doing their duty to protect the population needed to be safeguarded and separate, it angered him the elders never tried harder to remedy the conditions of their Corner. It was as if they were content to live on this outpost because they didn’t have to pack in like rats, and didn’t have to follow their own rules. Mostly, none of them ever felt the need to deliver on his father’s promise.

  “Our people deserve better, Anubis.” Horus moved into the parents’ room and laid his mother down. Even though he loved her more than the others, he couldn’t help but resent her for their current situation. He tried to think about what his father would do in moments like this, and then it hit him like Sobek swinging a mallet during a training session.

  The great Osiris had already overcome the same type of odds and obstacles the day his son was born. Victory cost him his life. In that moment, Horus completely understood everything that Sobek had tried to teach him. The survival of the Southern Corner would require a similar sacrifice. Horus was ready.

  “What would you have me do?” Anubis stood behind Horus, leaning in the doorway.

  “I’d have you take her to the chariot and leave, but I know that is not a possibility.” Horus cupped Isis’ hands in his palm. “If you intend to fight by my side, then we must follow the plan. Tell me, how many on our side remain?”

  “Perhaps a handful.” Anubis shrugged. “Khepri and a few in Sobek’s platoon are held up near the bridge. How many is a mystery.”

  “What of our dear uncle?” Horus could tell by the long expression on Anubis’ face that the answer wasn’t good. It was best not to dwell on it. Anubis was over emotional and needed distraction. “Amun and his guard?”

  “Strange, that one is.” Anubis stepped away from the doorway, pacing back and forth. “His daughter awaits us in the chariot. She was stark raving mad. She attacked your mother…”

  “Why?” Horus pressed, thrown off at the notion of Hathor fighting Isis. “What of the girl we saved from the human realm?”

  “She kept saying he took her, but shut off when asked for clarification.”

  “It’s possible she blames my mother for the situation. Could it be Shiva she was speaking of?” Horus asked.

  “Probably so.”

  “If we can make contact with Amun’s people, then perhaps we can mount a force to free Khepri and the others and take back our home.”

  Horus proceeded to coordinate a plan with Anubis. He kept it simple, but effective. Horus would deliver Isis to the chariot and talk sense into Hathor while Anubis got into position to rescue Sobek’s direct reports. With all eyes trained on bringing Horus to Shiva, Anubis would hopefully not be regarded as a real threat.

  Three angels standing guard at the chariot hangar dropped like flies with scintillating holes burned into the back of their heads. The plasma crossbows that had sprung from Horus’ wrists fell back into his aurascales. He scooped his mother up and proceeded to a shuttlecraft known as a chariot. He found the one Anubis had marked, although it wasn’t easy as there were nearly a hundred chariots in the docking bay. The rear entry to the chariot slid open with the ease of a rusty window screen. The motion was mirrored by an uneasy shock up his spine.

  “Hathor,” Horus whispered into the chariot.

  He moved up a few steps, ducking under a ceiling ridge and into the shuttle. The back hatch closed behind him. His mother groaned, so he quickly sat her on one of the seats and reclined it. There was motion to the left. Hathor stuck her head out from under a bunk bed. He looked over his shoulder and rolled his eyes. “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “I figured they might look in here, so I didn’t want to make it easy for them. Anubis just left me.” She crawled out from under the bed, stood, and sneered at Isis. “You do realize what she’s done?”

  “She is still your queen.” Horus slapped her hard, leaving behind a red mark. “If indeed she is guilty of wrongdoing, you of all people should know we’re not always judged by our actions. I still remember the leeway granted to you when we were teenagers.”

  Horus referred to the incident that had left her brother maimed by Anubis. The other kids had never admitted it, but he knew it was her plan to torture Anubis. Though she’d seemed to long outgrow the spoiled brat phase, even showing contrition a time or two, she never really apologized directly for the torment she’d caused Anubis, or even acknowledged him as a real individual. Horus kept that forever in the back of his mind when Hathor would rub him, flirt, or talk of their future betrothal.

  “I’m sorry for touching you in that manner.” He rubbed her face and lowered his head in shame.

  He didn’t like that he’d had to strike her. Not because she was a woman—their Corner had long since abandoned the idea of gender inequality and a weaker sex, unlike humans who still thought it socially unacceptable to strike a woman under any circumstance. No, he loathed laying a hand upon her because she was not a warrior. There were plenty of female fighters between their Corner and the others. Khali, Shiva’s bride, was well regarded as a fighter. Thor’s mistress Sif was another great warrior, thought to have perished by his side.

  However, Hathor represented those who needed protection, and Horus tried to always stand up for them and never be domineering. Still, Hathor needed to be shaken up and understand that disrespect for the chain of command would not be tolerated.

  “You know not the things she did to that poor child.” Hathor stepped away from Horus and continued to apply pressure to her cheek.

  “Anubis said you were incoherent. What happened?” Horus squinted, shaking his head at her in confusion. “We don’t have time for this. Whatever happened with the child, we will uncover it. The important thing is to dislodge ourselves from the docking bay and save the others.”

  “This shuttle won’t launch,” she replied.

  “We won’t know that until we try it.”

  “Already have.” She folded her arms and tapped her right foot. “I wasn’t going to let Anubis just lock me in here until he thought of a punishment for me. I was leaving.”

  “If we weren’t on the brink of annihilation...” Horus turned around and squared his shoulders as he towered over her. She sunk back. He thought better of his words. “Anubis isn’t the sort to be like that.”

  “But we are on the brink. So what are you going to do?” Hathor uncrossed her arms and stepped toward his face. Horus calmly looked down his nose at her. She took a small step forward and rested her head on his chest. “The override was set for all the chariots. We can’t detach until it’s taken care of from the main helm and this cruiser is off the ground. It’s part of the emergency protocol.”

  “How did they get the codes?” Horus scratched the back of his head. His eyes widened, sure of the answer. “Khnum. How could he be so blind?”

  “You seriously think he believes them? That they don’t intend to kill us?” Hathor grabbed his hand, stroking his arm. He knew the game her touch tried to play and yanked his arm away. He would have none of it. “You can cancel the override, can’t you?” she asked.

  “Khnum’s a fanatic, desperate for change. There is no telling.” Horus leaned over the chariot’s control panel and looked out the front window. A few shadows moved across his line of sight. He crouched and pulled her to the floor.

  Horus extended his right arm to his side, down at an angle. A plasma beam erupted from his hand, crackling with green static, quickly turning into solid metal to form a sword. His face guard took the shape of a silver hawk. He snapped his fingers and pointed for her to sit in the co-pilot chair. He stepped out of the shuttle and the door shut behind him.

  Horus rolled under the chariot, watching numerous sets of silver armored boots pass by as he stood on the opposite side of the chariot and shadowed whoever it was. He twirled around and deflected a strike. The steel sparkled. The would-be attacker knelt. It was Taweret. Bastet was with her. They had Amun’s famil
y: his son, Hapy, and wife, Sekhmet.

  “Where is your commander?” Horus asked. His posture relaxed, but not his grip on the weapon.

  Bastet stepped forward. Her black exo-armor mask was in the shape of a feline. “We made sure Amun made a hasty escape when the power cut off.”

  That was an odd thing to do. Horus didn’t quite buy it. He stole a glance at Hathor in the chariot, staring at them from a window. Her skin was pale and her eyes nervous. Horus remained vigilant.

  “Probably for the best,” he said. “We don’t want all the high council members at risk. Where did you send him?”

  “The navigation in this crystal holds the answer.” Bastet held up a crystal with a pink mist inside. “I’ve instructions to destroy it if captured.”

  “Right.” Horus mumbled. He scanned Hapy and Sekhmet over. Hapy was drooling and rocking back and forth. “There are a few of Sobek’s men trapped near the bridge. We are going to draw attention away from there.”

  Tawaret and Bastet looked at each other apprehensively.

  “We have orders to…”

  “And now you’ve new ones,” Horus cut them off sternly. “Sekhmet and her son will wait in this chariot. Her daughter is inside.”

  “My Hathor.” Sekhmet’s face lit up. Hapy clapped with excitement. “How is she?”

  “Unharmed.” He assumed her elation to be nothing more than a ruse.

  The fortress’ gravity systems went offline, as did the lights. His armor illuminated the dark hangar as they began to float in the air. He guided Sekhmet and her son into the chariot. The shuttle remained pinned to the floor with clamps securely fastened to its hull at all four corners. He allowed Tawaret to stay for the group’s protection and closed off the back hatch.

  He and Bastet made their way to the bridge. His left hand pressed against the wall and it shifted to his touch, rearranging into a secret passage that he was told only Sobek and he knew about. Once again, Bastet was confused.