Artificial Light (Evolution of Angels Book 3)

by Wall, Nathan

  “I know.” Her agreement shocked Madame Patricia. “Osiris was a good man, strong, gentle and kind hearted, but he lacked the courage to take up the mantle of leader. That trait I tried hard to forge in my son, may he too rest in peace.”

  “Your efforts continue to pay dividends.” Madame Patricia covered Isis’ knee with a hand. The hidden intent in the message was understood as Isis gave a mother’s smile. “Past betrothals of pre-birth work in unison, along with the sister of the boy who joined me on my journey here, and the symbol which sparks debate among the stars. He’s well assisted, so let’s hope he proves the leader you forged him to be.”

  “He found Death?” Isis asked. “Is he hope or the end?”

  “That remains to be seen.” Madame Patricia shrugged. “Let’s pray for the sake of our intertwined fates that hope joins his cause.”

  “When women whisper they often conspire,” Amun said with a chill in his voice. He walked behind the ladies. Sekhmet followed. Amun’s fingers curled around Madame Patricia’s earlobe and she slapped him away. He turned his attention to Isis, pulling the sheet from her body. “This is how you were meant to be gazed upon. Do not hide it.”

  “You wish to have Ra’s seconds while you dishonor your wife in her presence?” Madame Patricia stood, slapping Amun’s hand. “You heard our host. She’s no longer yours to do with as you please.”

  “And yet how will he come to learn of it lest I tell him of Horus’ intention of coming here?” Amun grabbed Madame Patricia’s face and lifted her off the ground. “If you wish to keep your secrets, then I will have you both.”

  “Horus yet lives?” Hathor gasped.

  “Try not to sound too excited, my dear. You’re to be tied to another.” Amun dropped Madame Patricia and lumbered over to his daughter. She cowered in his shadow. His hand slithered over her face and turned her gaze upward. “Remember, you still belong to me. You will give your future husband a good show and continue blessing this family favor. Understood?”

  “No.” She pulled a knife from inside her robe and plunged it into Amun’s stomach. She twisted the blade, pushing him back and over the table. “I will not. Be. YOUR. PUPPET.” A vengeful rage seethed from her eyes, her voice shrill.

  “You brat.” Amun backhanded Hathor. She fell to all fours, still screaming. He pulled the knife from his abdomen. Aurascales surged over his body, sealing the wound. He kicked her onto her back and stood on her throat. “Your place is here.”

  Madame Patricia commanded the ground. It split open with vines and flung him into the wall. She marched toward Amun, trapping him in a shell of rock constructed from thin air.

  “Take the girl and go,” she commanded Isis. “Release the children.”

  The Southern Queen obeyed, taking Hathor by the hand. Amun struggled to break free. A light cannon formed over his arm and he blasted through the stone. Shards of rock hit Madame Patricia’s face. Before she could recover, he slung her onto the ground and pinned her hands above her head as he tore at her clothes. Sekhmet continued watching.

  “Do something,” Madame Patricia begged her.

  “There’s a reason you are the weaker sex, good for no more than entertainment,” Amun taunted, pinning his elbow into her throat. She couldn’t breathe. Lightheadedness set in. His facial armor vanished into his shoulder blades. “I’ll slice you open and see what powers there are to behold within your gem.”

  Sekhmet clawed his face, drawing blood. Madame Patricia gasped. Sekhmet stabbed at him with Hathor’s knife, but Amun redirected the blade into her diaphragm.

  “Don’t think I’ll shed a tear for you.” He lifted her off her feet and slid the knife further up her chest before removing it. She hit the ground, dead. Amun dropped the knife and knelt on Madame Patricia’s chest. “You’ll replace her.”

  “No, father.” Hathor had returned. She scooped up the knife and sliced it across Amun’s throat. His hands clamped around his neck; vermillion gushed between his fingers. The aurascales couldn’t react in time. Amun toppled over.

  Madame Patricia rolled onto all fours, coughing. “I told you to run.”

  Hathor sat with her mom’s head in her lap. “I couldn’t leave with him alive,” she sobbed into her mother’s chest. She grabbed Sekhmet’s starstone. “It felt good, taking his life.” Hathor looked at Madame Patricia with snot and tears mixing on her face. “The rage was comforting, filling the numb I’ve had for so long.”

  “Indeed.” Ra’s laugh was muffled by his mask. “Despondent women find solace in like company and rise against tyrannical forces. Sounds like a fairy tale.”

  “He attacked us first,” Hathor said, running to him. “My father was an evil man...”

  “Am I any different?” Ra interrupted. “I care not for his life. His voice grated my spine. He was to die shortly, anyway. The gusto of calling us the ‘Amun-Ra coalition’—like I would accept second fiddle. No, I care about little mice gathering without my say so.”

  Madame Patricia began to speak. “We don’t mean...”

  “Silence.” Ra stomped his foot. “Or I’ll bend you each over and mount you until you obey, do I make myself clear?”

  Hathor went cold, but Madame Patricia burned inside.

  He glared at her. “Danu, are we in agreement?”

  “We are not,” she replied. Hathor looked up in shock. Madame Patricia walked towards Ra. “I don’t fear death. So while I yet breathe, I will not live under your foot.”

  “There are fates worse than death.” Ra rubbed his hands together sinisterly.

  “Then so be it.”

  She lunged onto a knee, casting a hand forward. A light erupted from her hand, knocking him to his back. She curled her fingers, commanding the rock to split and rumble. Vines grew through the floor and wrapped around him. New conjured rock and crystals held him down. “You must flee while you have the chance.”

  “I’ll not leave your side,” Hathor replied. She clasped Sekhment’s starstone. Billions of slate-grey cubes flowed over her body. The aurascales took the form of her mother’s faceguard: a green-faced lioness. “If death be on the cards, then so be it.”

  Bass heavy laughter overtook the realm. “It’s been ages since I’ve been entertained so.” Light vanished. The women clung together. The ground rumbled.

  The vegetation caught fire. Flames raced towards Madame Patricia and sliced across her face. Ra appeared in a blaze of orange, white and blue.

  “I’m not finished.” Madame Patricia lunged after Ra. She harnessed the power of their proximity, turning his skin into soil and rock. A crystal spear formed.

  She slashed her spear into Ra. He turned to smoke. The weapon passed through. A heat blast flowed from his hands, shoving her into the wall. She pushed a shield forward and dispersed the flames.

  Madame Patricia caught Ra off-guard by lopping off his right hand. Magma flowed from the severed limb. She stabbed, but again he turned into smoke, trying to penetrate her lungs. She shifted into a plume of dust, seeping into the cracks of the floor. Ra took a solid form and his hand grew back.

  “Where are you, my dear?” Ra asked, looking every which way.

  This time, the entire fortress rumbled. Foundations cracked beneath his feet. The mountain was going to come down.

  “Hapy!” Hathor called out for her brother.

  The floor caved in, swallowing Ra. Hathor teetered on the edge but Madame Patricia pulled her back.

  Hathor nodded with appreciation. “This way,” she implored.

  Madame Patricia steadied the floor beneath them long enough to find Hapy, who was being held captive by Taweret. Her large frame stood between Hathor and Hapy. She tapped her sword against her shield. Madame Patricia waved her hand, turning Taweret’s aurascales into dust. Hathor drove her dagger into Taweret’s chest and kicked her away.

  “Let’s go.” She took Hapy’s hand.

  The cave collapsed in front of them. Madame Patricia conjured a hole in the wall, leading to a new exit. The trio stood a
bove the clouds in the dead of night.

  “There’s no way out.” Hathor pulled Hapy’s screams into her bosom. The collapsed cave behind Madame Patricia melted through. Ra was coming.

  “You have to fly,” Madame Patricia insisted.

  “I’ve never used a starstone before,” Hathor cried.

  “The aurascales will act out of self-preservation. I promise.” She pushed the two through the hole and watched them disappear into the clouds.

  “Danu,” Ra screamed. The rays of light springing from his body evaporated the rock around him.

  Madame Patricia squeezed her fist, took a transparent form, and sprinted for her one-time lover. The two merged. Her powers grew exponentially. Before he could regain his senses, she released the fabric holding the mountain together. His fortress crumbled.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Austin V

  The announcement of the 11:30 express to Paris echoed through the station. Austin analyzed the board to find the platform they needed. They had just twenty minutes to secure tickets. He kept repeating in his head how horrible the plan was.

  “Exchange one heavily populated city for another,” he joked. “Great idea.” He turned and spotted Harold approaching them. His pupils turned yellow and wolf-like. Grey hairs sprouted from his arms as he took Harold by the trench coat and forced him into the restroom. “What are you doing here?” Austin barked. He tossed Harold to the floor. “The last I saw you, Madame Patricia was kicking you to the curb. Come to sell us out?”

  “Would you get your knickers out of a twist?” Harold adjusted his tie. Several men standing at the urinals hurriedly zipped their pants, moving for the exit. “You’re making a bloody scene.”

  “I’m about to make a Jackson Pollock on that wall with your blood.” Austin lifted Harold off the ground, his feet dangling. “You’ve been warned.”

  Horus pulled Austin back. Harold fell to his knees. Austin struggled to break free. Jarrod stood watch at the door.

  “Numerous eyes are upon us,” Horus whispered. Austin settled and leaned over a sink to wash his face. Horus helped Harold to his feet. “You missed our last rendezvous.”

  “I know.” Harold nervously rubbed his arm like there was an ache he was trying to relieve. He looked at Jarrod. “Hello mate.”

  “Eat a dick,” Jarrod replied. “How do y’all know each other?”

  “I was following a trail of sightings,” Horus said. “The Ourea battle brought me to Harold, who told me what I needed to hear.” He looked at the descendant. “Why did you miss our last appointment?”

  “Apparently I’ve offended you blokes. Why’m I getting the first?” he asked, standoffish.

  “Something doesn’t smell right about him.” Austin could sense it. It was like each time Harold exhaled his breath was rotten and his blood cold. He couldn’t figure it out.

  “You don’t smell like sunshine and lollipops yourself, mate.”

  “I asked a question,” Horus interjected.

  “Right. I got held up. On the news, I saw that fiasco you and mind-freak here put on.” Harold pointed at Jarrod. “I figured you lot needed my help.”

  “Bullshit.” That wasn’t something only Austin could smell. “He wanted to hand us over to the Assassins. I overheard him arguing with Madame Patricia about it.” Austin lunged for Harold. Horus pushed him back with Jarrod’s help. “Did you sell out our mission to save Lian’s kind?”

  “Don’t blame me.” Harold pointed at Horus, shaking. “This strange fellow here wants to meet where demons gather. How do you know it wasn’t him?”

  “I’m the only thing keeping Austin from tearing your throat out. You know this, right?” Horus asked.

  Harold nodded. “Point taken...”

  “Just shift blame,” Austin snarled.

  “I came upon Madame Patricia at her safe haven, a place she’s frequented often when times are troubled. I’ve joined her from time-to-time.” Harold ran his fingers through his reddish hair. “It’s true, I didn’t trust you fellows. However, I’d never put Madame Patricia or Athena in danger. She sent me here to help.”

  “She didn’t know we were going to be here.” Jarrod loosened his grip on Austin. Harold flinched. “She just knew our final destination. How come you’re here and not where we’re going? In fact, where are we going?”

  “Are you guys done urinating?” Athena barged into the restroom. “Our next chance for Paris leaves in fifteen minutes.” She saw the awkward scene but ran to Harold all the same. She kissed his cheek. “Where did you go?”

  “I was going to say Paris,” Harold replied to Jarrod. Sweat ran down his forehead. He hugged Athena back. “I had an argument with Miss. P.”

  “How many times has she kicked you out again?” Athena looked at him sideways and laughed. “You have to stop being such a—what is the term—knucklehead.” She took Harold’s hand and acknowledged the others. “Lian is getting impatient. You should get out there.”

  “Shit.” Austin stepped away from Horus and Jarrod, holding his hands up. “Paris right?” He eyed Harold. “Madame Patricia told you that?”

  “On my honor.” Harold crossed his heart.

  “I’m sure.” Austin squinted.

  They left the restroom. Lian stood with her head cocked sideways and her fists on her hips, tapping her foot. She pointed at her watch.

  “Well?” she asked. “Where do we go for the train?”

  “Upper level, platform six,” Austin replied, recalling the information from the timetable. “We’ll need to split up. Lian, Athena and I will secure the tickets. Harold and Horus will take Jarrod to the platform and find a quiet spot to wait for us.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Jarrod shrugged.

  “I’m sorry, but Miss P. was very clear about me not letting Athena outta my sight.” Harold took Athena by the hand. “So the four of us will get the tickets.”

  “Ill advised.” Horus pointed at Lian then Jarrod. “Did you not see what she locked away in his mind? He may be harmless now, but the being in his head is far from it. There should be two of us guarding him at all times.”

  “Listen guys, I’m the most acquainted with human civilization.” Austin stepped between them, crossing his arms. “I call the shots. Besides, I trust Jarrod more than I do this fat asshole.” He pointed at Harold.

  “Not everything has to be a dick measuring contest.” Lian stamped her foot. “Seriously, Athena and Harold go with Jarrod. Horus, you come with us. Shit. It’s settled.”

  “What is a dick and how is it measured?” Horus asked. His tone was blunt and naïve, his eyes rigid and curious.

  “Your wanker,” Harold laughed, patting him on the shoulder. Horus shook his head, not understanding. “The ol’ todger. Your kibbles and bits. John Thomas...”

  “Wait, I think I know him,” Horus interrupted, snapping his fingers. “Patron Saint of the chaste.”

  “No, you idiot. It’s your trouser snake. Prick. Knob. Tally Wacker. Junior down stairs...”

  Horus squinted. “What language do you speak?”

  “The Queen’s, just like everyone else around here. Is it not?” Harold shrugged his shoulders and turned to see the perplexed and blank stares of Jarrod and Athena. “What?”

  “You need help.” Jarrod walked away.

  “Says the schizophrenic with mass homicidal tendencies,” Harold scoffed, jogging to keep up with them.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Lian VII

  Lian and Austin stood at a ticket window.

  “I’m sorry, but the 11:30 is booked solid,” the station clerk responded to Lian. “We do have one leaving in five hours time, but I’m afraid only three seats are available.”

  “Impossible.” Austin rubbed his face. “You mean to tell me that the whole entire train is booked up? Like everyone in London wants to go to Paris?”

  “Stupid question,” Lian muttered. “They’re just two of the most traveled cities in the world, but yeah, it’s rare people would
go back and forth.”

  “Less heaping bullshit onto my back, more helping.” He squinted at Lian. “Please.”

  “I’m sorry about my boyfriend.” Lian smiled, gently pushing Austin away with her shoulder. She stood on the tip of her toes and leaned over the counter. “Is there some sort of waiting list you can get us on? Maybe some passengers who haven’t checked in yet?”

  “Let me see,” the station clerk cleared her throat and typed on the keyboard with her long, multi-colored acrylic nails. Lian peered inside her mind. Stupid, obnoxious Americans. Come here like they own the place. I bet they’re still boasting about how they saved our arses twice from the Germans.

  “Yup, it was a really big war,” Austin said to Horus, who stood stoic and unimpressed. Their ill-timed, coincidental conversation broke Lian’s train of thought. “This whole place would be speaking German if it weren’t for us.”

  “My father was killed several thousand years ago on the day of my birth, helping us flee persecution from the creator who grants you favor. My aunt was decapitated. Countless numbers of my kind were wiped from existence in the largest ethnic cleansing this galaxy has ever seen.” Horus yawned, still keeping a straight face. Austin couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or blunt. “Was it something like that?”

  “The Jews had it pretty bad...”

  “Shut up.” Lian glared at the two.

  “I can get you on the waiting list, but there’s not much else I can do for today.” The woman looked up, but Lian and the others were already gone. “Typical.”