by Chris Fox
On either side of the stonework stood a guard in the same armor she’d fought in San Diego. They too watched the darkness for targets, the faceless masks they wore probably allowing them to see in darkness, somehow. Their vigilance was hardly surprising. Dousing the lights had no doubt alerted them.
Liz considered the situation. Blair had to survive to reach the Mother, no matter the cost. Then, if they were very lucky, the Mother would help them deal with Mohn. If not, all of this would be for nothing. The pyramid only had one exit, so everything Mohn could bring to bear was about to come down on them like an avalanche.
They had to get inside before reinforcements arrived. They’d have to deal with the turrets, kill the armored guards, and then break down that steel door. It was a tall order whether they were werewolves or not.
Liz, can you hear me? Blair’s voice echoed in her mind.
“I can hear you,” she whispered, almost soundlessly. “Can you see what I’m seeing?”
I can. Blair’s disembodied voice said. Let me deal with the turrets. When the guards come for me, you and Elmira deal with the guards and get that door down.
“Got it,” she murmured, moving silently down the ramp into the chamber. She circled to the far side, maybe twenty feet from the armored guard on the right. She could be on him in a heartbeat as soon as Blair had the man’s attention.
Liz held her breath as she realized she needed to pee. That almost drew a hysterical laugh. It was just so incongruous to the situation. But she gritted her teeth and waited. She didn’t have to wait long.
Blair’s silver form appeared in the doorway for just an instant before he blurred to the middle of the room, near the central obelisk. He was directly between the pair of turrets. She wanted to drag him into the shadows but resisted the urge as both turrets swiveled in his direction. They moved more quickly than the guards, though each armored form had begun to react as well.
Her heart leapt into her throat as the turrets began to chatter. A stream of brass shells ejected from the top of each as bright gouts of flame erupted from each muzzle. The rounds streaked toward Blair faster than the eye could follow. He moved even more quickly, blurring away in a roll that carried him to the far side of the obelisk. That would shelter him from the guards, at least.
What he’d set in motion took a moment to register. Blair had been directly between the turrets. Once he’d moved, the rounds they had fired continued forward and into the turret on the opposite side of the room. Both boxy contraptions exploded into sparks as they were knocked onto their sides, severely damaged from the friendly fire.
She turned her attention back to the guards, who’d already begun a flanking maneuver to get a line of sight to Blair’s hiding place. Liz had a perfect view of the closest guard’s back, and she used it to devastating effect. She leapt forward, tackling the armor to the ground with a screech of metal. She slammed the helmet against the marble floor as hard as she could once, twice, and then a third time. The faceplate cracked but didn’t shatter. Damn, these things were tough.
Before she could do more, her opponent reacted, twisting his body to get an arm free. He extended his metal claws, scything them through the tendon of her right leg as he bucked his entire body. The move sent her toppling to the floor and allowed him to roll away. He came to his feet, pausing for a split second to eye the rifle he’d dropped when she tackled him. She knew he’d never make it, and he seemed to reach the same conclusion, cracked faceplate swiveling back to her.
She rose to her feet, baring her fangs and willing the injury to heal as she rested her weight on her good leg. The soldier didn’t give her time, launching himself at her with both sets of claws. She caught his arms, but he came down on her with all his weight. Her bad leg gave way, and they fell to the marble, both straining for the upper hand.
Liz twisted suddenly, rolling on top of her opponent. She brought her face down in a vicious head butt, finally shattering the faceplate. The man within was in his early thirties. He had a thick black goatee and silver sunglasses. It was the same man she’d fought in San Diego. He snarled up at her. “Is time to die, little wolf.”
She had just enough time to think he was overconfident before she realized her mistake. With her body atop his, she made a perfect target for the slits set into the man-made bunker Mohn had constructed. Automatic weapons’ fire thundered through the room as pain blossomed all over her body. Liz scrambled off her opponent with a shriek, rolling back into the shadows in desperate flight.
Be calm, Ka-Dun. These wounds will heal, though more slowly than you might wish. Had you not injected yourself with poisonous silver, it would happen more quickly, but we cannot change the past.
Great, an ‘I told you so’ from a voice in her head. Liz gritted her teeth and limped to the base of an obelisk as she sized up the room. Elmira was wrestling with the other armored soldier. One of her arms hung limply at her side, but she used the other to grab her opponent’s armored arm and hurl his body into the door. The impact made a sizable dent, but the door had clearly been made to withstand worse.
Elmira leapt on the soldier, pinning him to the ground with her good arm as she savaged the armor around his neck with her fangs. It was an intelligent move because it put her in a blind spot the weapon slits couldn’t reach. Unfortunately Elmira didn’t seem to have taken Liz’s opponent into account. The man with the goatee rolled to his feet. His armor rocked backward as four missiles streaked from the boxy launcher atop his shoulder.
They corkscrewed into Elmira’s back, all four detonating in a wave of light and sound that blinded Liz as it launched her backward. Her ears rang painfully as she shook her head and tried to get back to her feet. The explosion filled the room with smoke and debris, but she could still make out the destruction.
Two of the obelisks were nothing but rubble now, and Mohn’s bunker was scored and battered, though the door still held. There wasn’t enough left of Elmira to identify her, and Liz realized with cold certainty that Elmira was dead. The blast had also caught her opponent, who was struggling weakly near one of the intact obelisks.
Rage overcame Liz. She ignored her wounds, charging across the room and toward the downed guard with the Russian accent. She planted her wounded leg atop his back, ignoring the pain as she ground his chest against the floor. Then she seized his leg with both hands and ripped. It came off with a metallic pop and a spray of blood.
The man gave an agonized shriek and started thrashing wildly, but Liz leaned heavily atop him. She kept him pinned as she prepared to deliver the killing blow.
Chapter 76- Waking the Mother
Blair came to his feet behind one of the obelisks, surveying the room in horror. This place was of incalculable worth, with both historical and practical value. Mohn had just destroyed it with automatic weapons’ fire and frigging missiles. Much of the room had been reduced to rubble, yet the bunker the soldiers had erected was still a barrier.
Elmira was gone. Of that, he was sure. Even if he hadn’t seen the explosion, he could no longer feel his link to her mind. Liz was still there, a ball of rage as she leapt atop the sole surviving guard and ripped off the poor man’s leg. That instant, Blair recognized Yuri. He felt a twinge of pity, but it was only a twinge. The werewolves hadn’t chosen this war. Mohn had.
He turned his focus back to the bunker. How the hell was he going to get inside? A pair of gray-green eyes peered out through one of the gun slits, falling on Liz. Blair blurred, accelerating both body and mind. In an instant those eyes could be replaced by a gun, so he had to strike now.
A spike of pure will shot across the intervening space, glowing with faint blue light as it struck the owner of the gray-green eyes. Then Blair was that woman, Corporal Yasmin a twenty-six year old who’d joined Mohn for the money after a stint in the Marines.
With her eyes, Blair surveyed the inside of the bunker, taking in the other three soldiers. All three bore familiar-looking rifles, each barrel inches away from the slits cut into the sto
ne. None of them said anything as Blair stepped behind them. He calmly pressed the barrel of Yasmin’s rifle to the skull of the nearest soldier and fired.
The man went down in a spray of blood, and before either surviving soldier could react, she fired again. This time she sent a hail of bullets, which lanced into both targets. The second was knocked from his feet, and Blair continued firing until both stop moving. Then he walked Yasmin to the dented bunker door and threw back the metal bar holding it closed.
He pushed it open and dropped his rifle, stepping into the central chamber. He felt a dim surge of fear from Yasmin’s trapped consciousness as she saw Liz’s bloodied form just a few feet away. Liz-wolf’s fangs flashed, and the auburn wolf was on Yasmin. Blair fled her mind and returned to his own.
Blair lumbered into a run, shaking away the vertigo from so rapidly changing his perspective. He sprinted past Liz, trying not to watch as she tore Yasmin apart. He sprinted through the doorway and into the bunker, not bothering to close the door after him. He had no idea if it would serve as any kind of barrier when Mohn’s reinforcements arrived, and there were only a precious few seconds left.
He lurched to a halt as he entered the sarcophagus chamber, gasping as he had his first real view of the room’s majesty. He’d been dying when he last saw it, unable to fully appreciate the marvel of it all. Seven clear sarcophagi radiated from the center of the room like spokes on a wheel. They were covered in an array of gemstones, rubies and emeralds and diamonds. Pulses of light flowed between each at irregular intervals, flowing from gem to gem on invisible pathways.
The walls were a pristine white, covered in a sea of flowing silver glyphs that rearranged as he watched. The substance was something like marble but with its own inner light. It provided soft illumination that pulsed in time to a heartbeat. The heartbeat of the Mother, he’d be willing to bet.
He crossed the room to stand next to the only occupied sarcophagus. The room was beautiful, but it all paled in comparison to the woman within.
The woman was slender and petite, perhaps five feet tall. She looked tiny in the massive sarcophagus, which probably could have held a full-sized female werewolf. She lay on a bed of her own silver hair, waist long and lustrous despite millennia of stasis. She had delicate features that made her appear childlike, though she might very well have been the oldest living person in the world.
Her clothing was exquisite, like nothing he’d ever seen. She wore a clean white wrap around her breasts and a matching skirt that fell to her thighs, each embroidered with silver runes. Her neck, wrists, and ankles were all adorned with a variety of jewelry. Each piece was made of gold, most containing rubies or diamonds, though there were a few emeralds as well. Were those gems significant? The colors matched the sarcophagus. Any one would make a man rich.
“Moment of truth,” he muttered, wondering exactly how to wake her. He should have asked Ahiga when he’d had the chance. Surely the old man would have said something unless the method was blindingly obvious.
There are a pairs of rubies near the center of the rejuvenator. They are the largest gems. Do you see them?
He did. Each was fifty or sixty karats, possibly the largest of their kind in the world. They were so large that placing his hands on them didn’t quite cover the gems.
“Now what?” he asked.
Close your eyes and use your will to probe the rejuvenator as if it were the mind of another. Once you’ve touched it, you will understand.
Blair suppressed the lingering fears about Mohn’s impending arrival. He gave himself completely to the task, focusing his will and pushing into the sarcophagus. There was a moment of resistance. Then he tumbled through, into another place.
He stood in an empty room similar to the Mother’s chamber, but the walls were lined with gemstones and veins of gold. It looked like the control nexus of a starship from some space opera. He glanced around wondering exactly what he was supposed to do now.
“Who are you?” came a melodic voice from behind him. He spun to find the woman from the sarcophagus, standing before him. She was breathtaking. The Mother in all her glory, or her consciousness anyway.
Piercing green eyes studied him as she repeated the question. “Who are you? What has become of Ahiga?”
He wondered idly how it was he could understand her language, but with their minds touching perhaps she’d already learned English. Or he’d learned whatever she was speaking.
“I’m, uh, Blair,” he answered lamely. What did one say to the progenitor of an entire culture, a woman tens of thousands of years old? “Ahiga is dead. He died protecting me and sent me in his place to wake you.”
“Has the enemy returned, then? Are we too late?” she asked, eyes widening in alarm. She took a step closer.
“Not yet, but their return is imminent. I don’t know if you understand astronomy the same way we do, but the sun has sent out a coronal mass ejection, the thing we believe will wake the enemy. It could happen in the next hour, or in a day. Two at most.” He answered as honestly as he could, trying not to gawk at the woman before him.
The Mother looked relieved, posture relaxing as she took another step closer. She was close enough to touch now, or whatever would pass for touching here. “Then all is not lost. Still, time is short. I must know of this new world. Will you mindshare with me?”
“I-what does that entail, exactly?” he asked, remembering the mindshare with Ahiga. That had been brief because the old man was dying. Would this be similar?
“I would taste your memories. All of them. Walk the footsteps of your life, seeing all you have seen,” she explained, stretching forth a delicate hand. It hovered near his cheek. “In exchange, I will grant you a portion of my own memory, a fragment of it. Ask one question, and if it is in my power to show you, then I will.”
“What is this place? How did you build it? Why?” Blair asked, all in a jumble.
“That is three questions,” she said, giving him a tolerant smile. “The answers are complicated, but I will show you my discovery of the first Ark many, many millennia ago. Lower your defenses. Share your mind with me.”
“Ok,” he said, steeling himself as her hand brushed his face. There was an immense heat that began where her fingers brushed his skin, and surged through his entire body like a bolt of lightening. He could feel her rummaging through his thoughts like so many folders in a file cabinet, sifting and weighting as she learned about his world.
Then the world winked out. He was elsewhere, as he’d been with Ahiga. But there was no campfire, no looming darkness. He was inside her memories, seeing what she had seen. A glimpse of the world as it had been in another age.
Chapter 77- The First Ark
Seeing through the Mother’s eyes was a fascinating experience. It was a bit like controlling Yasmin had been, except he could do nothing but observe. The Mother huddled in a small gully with several other figures, shivering beneath layers of crudely stitched fur. Fat flakes of snow fell from the sky, and judging from the thick dusting the figures wore, he assumed they’d been there for at least a little while.
“How much longer will that take? We cannot be here when night falls, or we will leave nothing but our own corpses for our pursuers.” a short, stocky man growled. He had thick, bristly black hair and a beard to match. His eyes were set deep into his skull, beneath a heavy brow, and he cradled a flint-tipped spear in one hand.
The man he’d spoken to looked up calmly with gray eyes. His hair was also dark, though it was more brown than black. His beard was shorter but just as tangled as the other man’s. He held a pair of rocks in his hands, one a small striker and the other something that made Blair gawk. That was a core.
Blair had spent a summer learning primitive survival skills back in high school. They’d used the same Stone Age technology as the Cro-Magnon of France, and Blair had spent maddening afternoons attempting to create workable stone axe blades from cores much like the one this man held. Based on the technique he employed, Blair co
uld at least guess the rough moment in history when this memory had occurred. Somewhere between twenty and twenty-two thousand years ago, during one of the world’s harshest glaciations.
The man’s quick, sure strikes made a mockery of Blair’s pathetic attempts, quickly shaping the stone into a sharp wedge that would no doubt be affixed to the four-foot yew shaft propped against the rock face next to him. “If Set and his followers catch us and we are unarmed, then we will be just as dead. My last blade was lost saving your life, Sobek.”
Both names tickled at the back of Blair’s mind. They were familiar, but he wasn’t sure where he’d heard them.
“Patience. We have time yet,” the Mother said. Having words issue from a throat Blair had no control over was so odd.
“Precious little of it. They’ve dogged us for many days now. I still do not understand why Set is so persistent,” another woman said, rising from a bundle of furs piled between two rocks. She towered over the Mother’s comparatively tiny form, long red hair bound with a simple leather cord. She too carried a spear. “Osiris, you are chieftain now. We will follow where you lead, but Sobek is not wrong.”
“I know, Sekhmet,” he said, without looking up to meet her gaze. “That is why you will head to the top of the ridge and see if we are still pursued. Silently, like a cave lion.”
If Blair had a mouth, he’d be gawking openly. Sekhmet. Osiris. Sobek. The names were soberingly familiar. All three were figures in the Egyptian pantheon.
The redhead scrambled up the hillside in near silence, kicking loose little drifts of snow as she ascended. She was out of sight in seconds, moving with the grace of a life-long hunter.
“You know as well as I that our pursuers have not given up. What did you not wish her to hear?” Sobek rumbled. He folded his arms and stared a challenge at Osiris.