by Wall, Nathan
“The pink dots, are they rifts?” she asked. Horus nodded in reply. “Look here, it’s Stonehenge, and here is the Bermuda triangle. That one is the rift in Afghanistan that we took to New Troy.”
“There are others in South Africa and on the Pacific coast of South America,” Austin chimed in. He pointed at a black spot in northern Mexico. “What is that?”
“I know not.” Horus shook off the question, seemingly more concerned with finding a way to Isis. He pointed at several clusters of yellowish dots. “This is where I found my previous ship, Northern Africa. What are these locations?”
“The others are New York and Paris. Likely museums with exhibits.” Jarrod pointed at the dots. “It would probably be easier for us to rift to an off-the-grid locale in Egypt and search for a chariot than to fool around in a crowded city. Plus it would help mitigate collateral damage.”
“Agreed.” Horus retracted the light. “When can we leave?”
“We can’t rift anywhere,” Athena cautioned. “Without a coded crystal, Heaven would locate us.”
“Wait, I have one.” Horus patted his pockets. “It must’ve been left in the Spear.”
“You got what you needed,” Madame Patricia said in cold tone. She tugged on Athena. “It’s best we be on our way.”
“No.” Athena pulled away. “I was under the impression we were on the same page?”
“You were wrong,” Madame Patricia snapped back. “This will be entertained no longer.” She looked at Lian. “If you wish to stay with your brother, it would be wise to agree. The things we deal with are far larger than a reuniting a random Angel-born with his mommy.”
“Excuse me, but are you barking orders?” Lian asked, ready to slap her.
“Call it what you will, I make no apologies for the tone of my voice.” Madame Patricia leaned in close to Lian’s face.
Oh, a cat fight, Austin thought, a little too excitedly. Lian scowled at him. “Right. Totally wrong.”
“I would if I were you,” Lian said to Madame Patricia, making a fist.
“Y’all can stay and fight if you’d like,” Jarrod interjected. He prodded Horus. “We’ll head on our way. You don’t need me anymore.”
Madame Patricia and Lian spoke in unison: “No.”
“Why?” Jarrod asked, gawking at both of them. “My mind is made up. Either you two start making some decisions, or I’m bolting.”
“What’s the real reason you want to leave?” Lian asked, stomping her foot. Her lungs decompressed a thousand pounds of stress. “You know why we can’t let you go.”
“I won’t hurt anyone,” Jarrod replied.
“But you’re afraid you will,” Horus added. Everyone looked at him. Jarrod went white and silent. “I could hear your voice in my head when you nearly drained whatever lingers inside me. You begged me to kill you, afraid you’d kill everyone.”
“Not just everyone.” Jarrod knelt and rubbed his face. He glanced at his friends, solemnly. “The people I love the most. It’s bad enough knowing I can’t save them; it’s even worse knowing I might be the one to destroy them. The only way I can’t harm anyone is if you dump me on a desolate planet. It’s the only place where I can’t possibly drain someone’s soul and unleash Ryan.”
“So you were going to help rescue Horus’ family and just ask us to leave you isolated?” Lian asked, realizing how insulted Jarrod must have felt when they didn’t trust him. The shoe was now on the other foot and it stung. “You’re the key to it all, Jarrod. There’s no hiding from fate. They would find you.”
“Who?”
“Heaven,” Lian said, “and their Assassins.”
“The Assassins?” He looked up, smirking as if not believing it.
“It’s true.” Horus stood beside Lian. “The Corners have been abuzz with news of your arrival. A middle-guard angel who made his home in Moscow told us of you. He mentioned that the Assassins sought verification of your existence. Believe me, when an Assassin leaves a deserter alive, it’s because they received information far more valuable than a random coward’s life.”
“So why am I valuable?” Jarrod walked over to Madame Patricia. She was the only one with any sort of answers. Her face was pink with shame. When she didn’t answer, he said, “Then keep it a secret. After all, it’s been secrecy that’s given us our good fortune so far, no? Let’s just continue the tradition.”
“The four horseman of the apocalypse are the scourge of prophecy that no man, angel or otherwise, can stop.” Madame Patricia took in a deep breath. “It was always a debate if the horseman were literal or figurative. Perhaps they’re a combination of the two.”
Jarrod snickered, anxiously rubbing his arms. Everyone apprehensively stepped away from him. Noticing they were on edge, he relaxed his tense body language.
“I know.” He nodded in reply to Madame Patricia. “I’ve always known. The horsemen in my dream. I can overcome the others, but not without fulfilling the vision and becoming the last.”
“You have prophetic visions?” Athena asked. “What else do they say?”
Jarrod hesitated. Lian decided to alleviate him of the burden. “That only Ryan can keep us all alive.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Set IV
The rift closed. Those nearby were stricken with fear, as well they should have been. Beelzebub had been a busy bee and Set was none too happy about it. Then again, transparency never was any demon’s strong suit. Still, he expected more from Beelzebub. He’d wormed his way into the top ranks of his species long ago and completely understood the arrangement with Set and his allies.
Set held a hand up, halting his two compatriots. He half expected some sort of snickering from Hermes, but none came. Maybe he finally knew his place. A few of Beelzebub’s lower-levels marched on an intercept course with Set. What did they really think they could do? When he took a second to count their numbers, he found that a few dozen approached. That would be little more than a handful.
“I didn’t realize I’d be such an honored guest,” Set mocked, bowing to the cackle.
“You’re not on the schedule.”
“Au contraire.” He smirked. “I’ve a standing reservation.” A metallic sphere slid into his palm. He kicked the lead demon back into the core of the group and released the device. It spun so fast while emitting its white energy that it appeared to be completely still. It erupted, sucking many of the demons from their meat suits. The ones it didn’t, Set attacked.
He chuckled. It was like brutalizing invalid kids at St. Jude’s. A severed arm here. A fractured spine there. One demon had his face crushed in by his knee. They used guns, but weren’t able to get a lock. Set’s jagged wrist blades split a gunner in half.
“I’m here,” Beelzebub called out. With his hands forced into his coat pocket, he teetered back and forth on his feet, shrugging. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“The descendant you offered let a little more slip than I’m sure you cared for.” Set jammed his blades through a pleading demon’s head while walking towards Beelzebub. “Have anything you’d like to admit?”
“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It’s been, I don’t know, three thousand or so years since my last confession,” Beelzebub laughed.
Set grabbed him by the neck and lifted. “You think you’re amusing?”
“A little,” Beelzebub croaked. He tapped Set’s hand in submission. “I’m good.”
Set pulled him closer, eyeing him. “You sure?”
Beelzebub flashed a-thumbs up and Set threw him several yards into a truck. Beelzebub coughed, readjusting his suit as he stood. He nodded. “You regained your form.”
“Never lost it.”
“Of course.” Beelzebub nodded, still rubbing his throat. “So which one of the sniveling retards I sent to escort that half-breed pissed their pants first?” He looked over to Hermes and Sif who were standing guard over the demon who’d confessed Beelzebub’s plan. “Right. Mind if I teach him some manners?”
Set shrugged, indifferent.
“Oh, Danny boy,” Beelzebub whistled. The demon informant looked up, shaking his head. He slunk behind Sif who pushed him forward. “Be a good chap and hurry along,” Beelzebub tormented. “That’s it.”
Danny shuffled his feet, head down. “Sir?”
“It’s not that I don’t like my friends here stopping by for a visit.” Beelzebub motioned to the Assassins, pulling his subservient in close. He whispered, “It’s that I don’t like them coming for a visit.”
His hand moved up the back of Danny’s skull, tearing into the skin. The demon screamed. His body contorted to the chorus of splintering bones. Beelzebub snapped Danny’s head back, breaking the neck. The demon shivered on the ground, trapped in the body, in agony.
“Some fates are worse than death.” Beelzebub tapped Set on the shoulder as he walked by. “Do come.”
Set followed. “What’s with the large military presence? The British government is fine with having American forces in the homeland?”
“You know I’ve an arrangement with the queen…”
“I’m sure,” Set interrupted, clearing his throat. He crossed his arms. “A new breed of gifted… Have you been making them?”
“I’ve been helping them realize their potential earlier than usual, if that’s what you’re asking.” He rifled through a mini-fridge, removing a beer. He offered one to Set, who seemed disgusted. “Yes, I am too. It’s this body though.” Beelzebub popped a can and guzzled. “He liked the cheap shit. Slowly, I’ve been refining his tastes.”
“You’re stalling.”
He smiled slyly. “Can’t blame me for trying.”
The wrist blades shot out. Set remained still. “I can do other things.”
“Maybe you’ll be a little less annoyed when I tell you he’s here.” Beelzebub wore a satisfied gaze. Set moved forward, intrigued. “Your mission, right? Death.”
“Where is he?” Set loomed over Beelzebub, irate he’d not alerted him. “You weren’t going to tell me. Why?”
“I need more time.”
“Your plan is secondary to whatever we’ve got in motion.” Set hacked Beelzebub’s arm off, just below the elbow. No blood gushed as his heart no longer pumped.
Beelzebub held his other hand up. “Please, I still need this body. My work isn’t done. Even in a rage, you understand assets.”
“Why are you working with Ra?” Set kicked Beelzebub onto his back and stood on his chest. A few ribs popped as he leaned with more pressure. “What do you mean you’re helping this new breed realize their potential?”
“The ones promised to lead in the end days,” Beelzebub grunted. “Please…” Set stepped off. Beelzebub wheezed. “If I help them reach maturity early, he takes them. Some of them have already matured… The powerful ones blossom early.”
“What does he want with them?”
“Does it matter?” Beelzebub slowly stood, examining his severed limb. “How am I going to explain that?”
“It matters to me!” Set yelled, raising a fist.
Beelzebub cowered to his knees. “It’s not what he gets but what we do.” Set narrowed his eyes. Beelzebub continued, “We found a portion of a muse’s starstone. In exchange for the gifted, he’ll reignite its power far beyond its original capabilities. With it, we duplicate Azrael as we did Zeus. Maybe even recover his piece of the Forge.”
“You’ll risk waking him.”
“When we get that far, you’ll be my first call.”
“I don’t like it.” Set shook his head. There was a piece of him that refused to admit it wasn’t a bad plan. Ra had his way sodomizing young ones, Beelzebub continued wreaking havoc. The less promised when tribulation rolled around, the better.
“How many pieces of the Forge do you have, anyway?” Beelzebub asked snarkily. Set didn’t acknowledge the question with so much as a look. They both knew the answer. “You’re no worse off. The way I see it, we both know this muse-starstone I’ve got belonged to Aphrodite. We can sense it. That means Maya is no longer ruling her people, and the piece of the Forge she possessed is in jeopardy. Shiva is taking his sweet time acquiring Vishnu’s, and you let Osiris’ wife slip between your fingers with his. That leaves Thor’s, which is off the reservation. Azrael’s, and we both know where he is. Gabriel’s, and then, finally, Michael’s, and good luck prying that from his hand…”
“I’m working on it.” Set bit his finger, contemplating.
“Yeah, you seem to be doing a real good job of it.”
“Your tone,” Set warned.
“Face it, we need each other equally. Sure, you could take my head and trap me in one of those little devices of yours. Then what?” Beelzebub asked. “Who do you get to do what I can do? You want Jarrod—that’s Death’s name, by the way. Your mission is to do whatever with him, and then what? Hurry to collect the pieces of the Forge?”
Beelzebub didn’t see that those two things were mutually exclusive. To get all the pieces, Set needed to complete his mission. Then again, his personal goal was to prevent tribulation. Killing Jarrod would be the easiest way of delaying it.
“Where are they?” Set asked.
“I can help with that.” Tunrida stumbled into their conversation. Beelzebub held her up. “I met an Angel-born. He took me in his spaceship.”
“Did he probe you?” Set bit his lip, unable to help himself.
“I wish.” Tunrida stared longingly into the sky. “He’s strong. He rejected the water spirits.”
“I wish you wouldn’t frequent those bath houses,” Beelzebub said, stroking her face. “Leaving the city is dangerous.”
“Yes, you could run into the Assassins.” Set walked around her.
“Dad, don’t worry,” she replied to Beelzebub. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look it,” Set pressed. “What happened?”
“I was going to tell you that…” Beelzebub started.
Set interrupted. “I was asking her.”
“His name was Horus and he finds death.” She shivered, pulling on Beelzebub’s sleeve. Set exchanged nervous looks with the elder demon. “I was hoping Bannik meant actual death, but when we soared through the city, and those hollow blue eyes landed in front and ripped through the windshield, I knew Bannik spoke of the actual Death.”
“My nephew and Death?” Set asked under his breath.
Beelzebub pursed his lips. “It seems your unfinished past is catching up with us.”
“I’ll fix the problem.”
“You better.” Beelzebub squinted angrily. He looked at Tunrida, coddling her. “Anything else?” She shook her head and he pulled her into his clutches.
“Which way?” Set asked. “If he’s tearing into spaceships, there must be a scene.”
“That’s how I got away.” Tunrida tried to sit up. “When Death brought us down, he pulled Horus from the shuttle. I escaped while they fought.”
“That was the ruckus I was going to tell you about,” Beelzebub said.
“You need to leave and stay far away,” Set implored, pulling Beelzebub to his feet. “If they’re attracting attention to themselves in a squabble, other forces are going to be alerted. I need to quell the issue before it gets out of hand and Michael comes poking around.”
“Who’s in charge up there?” Beelzebub asked, grinning. “Do I smell a coup?” Set just stared, making Beelzebub giddy. “Who was the first to go?”
“Just leave.” Set pushed Beelzebub away. He turned to Tunrida. “But I’ll need her to come with me.”
“Impossible…” Beelzebub went silent, shrinking away. Set’s eyes showed that he meant business.
“Take me.” Set offered a hand and pulled Tunrida to her feet.
***
The area was decimated. The Assassins and Tunrida weaved through the local authorities, blending in. To their left, an apartment building under construction was torn to shreds, and to the right a warehouse was in ruin. Through the center of the avenue was a crater leading
to a crashed ship.
Set looked it over from a distance. It was a Spear. Those hadn’t been used in over a millennium, abandoned long before the Pride Rebellion. How did Horus get his hands on one of those?
“Why here?” Hermes asked Turnida.
“He had a lot of questions about what we demons were doing. I was afraid he’d kill me, so I told him.” She sat against a wall behind the huddled onlookers. “Part of my team was responsible for tracking down the chosen. My mental connection with the other demons alerted me to what was happening. For about a week now, these groups of unknowns have been interrupting our hunts. We didn’t know it was Death and his friends until last night.”
“That’s what brought your father in.” Set nodded. The Spear would have more answers. “Stay put,” he commanded.
“Yes sir,” Hermes complied, drawing a grin from Set.
Set activated his aurascales and went transparent. He slipped through the investigation scene unnoticed. The Spear’s systems activated when he approached, putting the nearby humans on edge.
He walked into the building that the ship had crashed into and de-cloaked. The navigation systems were still active. All power had been rerouted to there. Horus grew to be a crafty one, evidently. One of the nearby human officials stood motionless, pissing himself.
“If you don’t scream I won’t have to kill you,” Set advised calmly. The men and women nodded, minding their own business. He crawled into the Spear and messed around. “You’ve been to Kom Ombo. You learned your history well.”
Set removed a crystal from the rift-system. The information inside was still intact. He was curious to see where it led back to, or instead he could use it to find Horus’ current location. Since there was no telling what he’d find rifting back to wherever Horus made the crystal, he decided to use what little energy remained to find him on earth.
A plume of powder fell over his head. He looked up, staring holes through the woman who’d stumbled.
“Please, excuse me,” she pleaded.