“They’re harmless,” Eve said. “Don’t startle them, and you’ll be fine.”
I did my best not to step on the bat droppings, switching my attention between the bats overhead, the rock around me, and Eve. The bats continued watching us as we passed.
“Hey, is it just me, or are the bats watching us?” Pete asked.
“It’s not you,” I replied.
“That’s creepy.”
“You’re in their roost,” Eve said. “Why wouldn’t they be curious about you?”
The room narrowed into a cramped passage. Even Eve struggled to squeeze through. When it was my turn, I contorted myself into an awkward posture and did my best to imitate her. My backpack scraped against the rock. I pressed my hands against the slick rock, feeling my way forward.
“If we come back here again, we’ll need headlamps,” Pete said.
“It’s not that bad,” she said. “Once we’re past here, there won’t be any more constrictions.”
My left hand slipped. I slapped against the wall, catching myself.
The rock gave way.
“What the–”
The wall crumbled.
I fell.
“Luke?” Pete called.
He shot out his hand.
Missed.
I twisted around in mid-air and braced for impact. The moment my feet touched the ground, I rolled on my back. The ground slammed into my pack. I turned to the side, bleeding off the energy.
Bright light shone from above.
“Luke! You okay?” Pete called.
“Luke? LUUUUUUUUUUKE!” Eve yelled.
I coughed. The fall had knocked the wind out of me.
“I’m alive!” I yelled back.
“Are you all right?” Eve replied.
“Wait one!”
My back hurt. My feet hurt. At least the pack had cushioned the fall. Wincing, I rotated my joints and wriggled my fingers and toes. Nothing seemed broken. I got up and patted myself down. I’d picked up a few cuts, but nothing serious.
“I’m good!” I yelled.
My flashlight lay next to me, throwing a circle of light against the wall. I picked it up and examined my surroundings.
I had fallen into a pit. The cave walls around me were slick with condensation, and there were no handholds or footholds to climb back up.
“Break out the rope!” I said. “I’m gonna have to climb out of here.”
Dust and pebbles fell from above. I covered my face and dodged the debris.
“It’s no good,” Eve said. “The rock is too unstable, and I don’t have room.”
“Make room. I’m going to try something.”
I unfurled my charagma and touched the Void.
Nothing happened.
That wasn’t right. Only palings could do that. And if the spring were a paling, the rads would have killed Eve long ago. And us.
“Well?” Eve asked.
“Can’t warp out.”
“How is that possible?”
“No idea. I’m going to take another look around.”
As I searched the pit, I found a salamander perched on a rock, staring at me. Perhaps it was related to the one I had seen earlier.
The reptile blinked and skittered away, heading down a darkened opening. It seemed wide enough for me to fit.
“There’s a passage down here,” I called. “Might be a way out. Go on ahead. I’ll meet you at the spring.”
“Okay,” Eve replied. “And, uh, be careful, okay?”
“I will.”
I checked my pack. It was banged up, but there was nothing fragile inside. Shouldering my pack, I gingerly followed the salamander into the dark, working through the pain.
The passage gently sloped down. The salamander waited for me. When it saw me, it crawled away, disappearing around the bend. When I caught up, I saw it again, waiting, watching. As I approached, it slipped away again as though it were leading me.
I wasn’t a herpetologist, but I was pretty sure that wasn’t typical salamander behavior. Not that I had a choice. I had nowhere else to go.
I tailed the salamander, every step taking me deeper into the bowels of the mountain. The air grew close and tight. Sweat pooled in my armpits and back. The salamander kept pace, stopping every so often until I caught up.
Down and down and down we went. The passage wended and twisted about, but there were no branches, no diversions. Eventually, the passage widened, but here there were only the salamander and me.
Light.
I blinked.
Light, at the far end of the tunnel. I turned off my flashlight. The light was still there. Muted golden light, reflecting off the walls. The salamander raced into the light.
I followed.
I emerged into an enormous cavern shaped like a dome. Sunlight streamed in through cracks in the ceiling. In the middle of the cavern was a golden, shimmering lake.
A lake of pure aetherium.
There was another opening at the far end. Eve and Pete hadn’t arrived yet. It was so bright I no longer needed my flashlight. In the aetherlight I saw figurines carved into the rocky walls, forming a single massive relief surrounding the lake. There was a group of women, carrying amphorae and torches. A sickly man reclining on a bench while a younger one gently fed him liquid from a dish. A legionnaire throwing a firebolt from his outstretched hand, subduing a catoblepas. An army battling a band of daimons with gladii and scuta. Inscriptions in Latin and Hellenic flowed across the rock.
Three statues encircled the lake, illuminated in shafts of sunlight. The closest to me was a youth carrying a staff, wearing a simple toga. His left-hand neighbor was a legionnaire wearing a lorica and the plumed helmet of a centurion, pointing a gladius at the sky. To the youth’s right sat a bearded man on a throne. In his right hand he held an orb, in his left a scepter. On his head he wore a solar crown, its spokes pointing in every direction.
And none of the statues showed any signs of wear.
The salamander that had led me here darted past my boot and dived into the lake. The aetherium rippled, as though disturbed by an unseen force. Waves traveled from the banks to the center, gathering and cohering and solidifying and growing, forming the shape of a human.
Aetherium flowed up his body, adding form and definition. The being grew the face of a man. Thick hair cascaded down his head in heavy curls. A hooked nose protruded from his face, narrow and aristocratic. His jaw enlarged and sharpened, becoming as solid as granite. His lips broadened into a smile, but his eyes were pools of golden fire.
He walked across the lake, gathering clothes around him. A pure white toga draped itself around his body. A sun crown blossomed on his head, golden and glowing. Sandals materialized to cover his feet.
“Who are you?” I whispered. “What are you?”
He stepped on solid rock. Pressing one hand to his chest, he bowed.
“Salve. I am Sol Invictus, the Unconquered Sun. Luke Landon, thank you for coming. We have much to discuss.”
4. The Unconquered Sun
“How do I know you are who you say you are?” I asked. “How do I know you are not a daimon in disguise?”
He smiled and gestured at the spring. “No daimon may manifest in the presence of so much aetherium. You may test it for yourself.”
His voice was clear and ringing, deep and sonorous. As he spoke, flashes of white and gold passed before my eyes.
Keeping a safe distance from him, I headed to the lake and scooped up a handful of golden liquid. As it seeped through my fingers, I pressed a thought into it. The outermost molecules of aetherium instantly became solid, transforming into a thin membrane. It was like holding a water balloon. I rolled it from hand to hand, feeling its smooth texture, its warmth.
“I see your injuries. Come. Drink.”
Once again, flashes of white and gold light pulsed in the air. His words were reshaping reality itself, creating breakdown phenomena. It was the signature of an elder daimon… or a god.
&n
bsp; I touched the bubble to my lips, bit through the membrane and took a sip.
It was like drinking the essence of fire. Liquid flame surged down my throat and ignited my core. White heat burned through me, turbocharging my muscles, blood and bone, chasing away my pain and fatigue, filling me with strength. My temples throbbed; my heart smashed into my chest. My cuts closed over and disappeared in an instant.
Everything around me became crisper, clearer, brighter. When I looked at the statue of the centurion, I made out every rivet, every strap, every crag on his face, the wrinkles on his forehead. On the face of the youth, I saw the symmetry of his cheeks, the carefully calibrated cuts of his chin and chest. The emperor’s toga now seemed to hang loosely, naturally, on his body. Every feather on the eagle’s wings was perfectly sculpted and proportionate, and the salamander’s eyes seemed to bulge and glow with intelligence.
My eyesight was never this good.
I tossed the rest of the aetherium into the lake. It dissolved without a trace.
“Looks like you are who you say you are,” I said.
“Of course. I never lie.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Right. How concentrated was the aetherium I just drank?”
“One hundred percent enriched aetherium.”
My jaw dropped. “One hundred percent? Enriched aetherium?! Why am I not dead yet?”
“A mere sip won’t kill you.”
“If the aetherium is that pure, I should be swimming in gamma and neutron radiation.”
“The aetherium in this place is completely inert. It issues no radiation whatsoever.”
“That’s not possible. When scientists tried producing one hundred percent enriched aetherium, it was so radioactive it had to be contained in a thick lead box.”
He laughed, his voice filling the entire cavern.
“Am I not a god? I have not gone through all this trouble to bring you here to kill you.”
“Then… how?”
He continued smiling, his eyes flashing with mirth.
“You stand in the presence of the divine, Luke Landon. Set aside what you think is possible or impossible. It is the prerogative of my kind to dictate reality itself. Your kind merely believes you have the power to do so.”
I’d already seen what an archangel and a fallen angel could do. Compared to that, this seemed utterly reasonable. Mundane, even.
“Eva Martel didn’t tell me you were here. Was that deliberate?”
He dipped his head. “Yes. I apologize on her behalf. I instructed her to hide that fact from you.”
Sol Invictus would not lie by commission, but he felt free to tell others to lie by omission. Interesting.
“Why?” I asked.
“I wanted to see you for yourself and to speak with you in private.”
In other words, he had something for me that he didn’t want Eve and Pete knowing. At least, not yet.
“You engineered the wall collapse?”
“Yes.”
“That was dangerous.”
“It was a test. And you walked away, didn’t you?”
Maybe my injuries were part of the test, too, allowing him to show me firsthand what his aetherium spring could do. This was not a human; I could not treat him like one.
“What about the salamanders?”
“Aetherium constructs. Useful, no?”
“And the bats?”
“My tenants. They earn their keep by chasing away unwanted visitors.”
“You have control over animals?”
He smiled. “It is the least I can do.”
I licked my lips. Then, I realized that that single sip had chased away a thirst I was barely aware of.
“What do you want from me?” I asked.
“I know of the mission al-Hakem al-Dunya has charged you with. I have come to covenant with you so that we may achieve our goals.”
“Covenant with me? How is that possible?” I asked. “I thought you can only covenant with one being at a time.”
He laughed again and pointed at my face. “I see the Mark of the Unmaker, plain as day.” He gestured at my left hand. “I see also the charagma of al-Hakem al-Dunya. The rules are different for divinities such as us.”
“What do you mean?”
“When covenanting with a daimon, you entwine your soul with the daimon’s. The daimon indwells within you, leaving no room for other entities. When covenanting with the divine, we simply build an anchor from which you can access our powers. There are no restrictions on the number of covenants you can form with divinities.” He raised a finger in warning. “Of course, it would not do to tap into the powers of Chaos and the Light simultaneously.”
I raised my eyebrow. “Chaos and the Light?”
“Ah. That was what my children, the Romans and the Hellenes, referred to what you now call the Void and Creation.”
“I see. Hakem won’t mind if I covenant with you?”
His smile was like a second sun. “I never knew you cared about what he thought.”
I snorted. “True enough. If you want to covenant with me, I have some questions for you.”
“Ask, and I shall answer.”
“What is your goal?”
“The same as yours: to prevent the Unmaker from unmaking Creation.”
“What is your quarrel with him?”
“Aside from the fact he wishes to destroy all of civilization?”
“He’s not in your pantheon. I haven’t seen the Phosterians openly oppose him either. Why are you seeking covenanters? Why do you wish to fight him?”
“Once, I ruled an entire continent. I brought illumination to the people and taught them the high arts that allowed them to dominate the world. I showed them the uses of aetherium and its dangers; I showed them the face of Chaos and how to subjugate daimons. I watched over emperors and commoners and granted victory to those who celebrated and worshiped me.
“Now I am ruler no more. The Burned Man took my place, but now he is being overthrown. Nevertheless, I still remember my duty. My purpose.
“Today the Unmaker is abroad in the world. He leads men astray with whispers of temporal glories. He promises wealth and power and shows his pawns the secret arts of controlling Chaos. The forbidden arts. He tells them that he wishes only to help them build a new world—a better world—but his true purpose is to burn everything down.
“I am the true light-bringer. I who brought the light of truth, law and beauty to the people. I who built and threw down empires. I whose children created one of the longest-lasting civilizations on the planet. The Unmaker merely styles himself as the light-bringer, with the object of ruining everything.
“The Unmaker has trespassed into my realm. He wishes to usurp me. This I will not allow.”
“Then what about the Phosterians? They usurped you. Don’t you have a quarrel with them?”
He sighed. Darkness crept into the cave for an instant and disappeared just as suddenly.
“My relationship with the Church of the Oikoumene is… complicated.”
“Can you tell me what really happened with you and them?”
“What bearing does it have on your mission?”
“I need to know where everybody and every faction stands in relation to each other.” I raised my eyebrow. “And I really need to know if Taxiarch Michael will show up on my doorstep someday.”
He chuckled. “True enough. Allow me, then, to speak of the secret history of the world. Observe.”
A golden globe of aetherium floated above the surface of the lake. It was massive, towering over the both of us.
“I am a god. My experience of consciousness is nothing like yours. I was never born. I simply… am.
“In the first moment of my existence, I knew. I knew of all things under the sun, of every drop and every vein of aetherium in the world, of the nature of man and woman and plants and animals. I knew who and what I am. I am the light of the Sun. I am Creation personified.”
Shapes protruded from the sphe
re. Mountains, seas, forests, deserts, animals, people.
And… others.
A great swirling mass of clouds floated above the world, hurling thunderbolts to the world below. A monstrous giant, composed entirely of snakes, towered over hills and lakes. A huntswoman holding a spear in her right hand rode a chariot across the sky. An enormous snake crawled across the ground, but its upper body was the torso of a long-haired woman.
“You must know of the other gods that came before me. Though they possessed enormous power, they were cruel and capricious, filled with pride and wrath and envy. They fought amongst themselves, with each successive generation battling their elders for control over the cosmos.
“I saw them treat humans as their playthings and their pawns, siding with nations and creating demigods and monsters just to score points in their long-running rivalries. Their wars split the sky, rent the earth and turned the seas to poison. It was madness.
“Someone had to prevent the world from falling apart. I took on that burden, distancing myself from these divine follies.”
The gods faded away. In their place were monsters.
A gorgon curled up under a tree, picking at its tusks with its claws while the snakes perched on its head licked at the scales of its main body. From out of a swamp rose a hydra with a dozen heads, spitting and hissing in every direction. A chimera clomped across a burning field, breathing fire from its lion’s head while its snake’s head snapped at the air.
“First, I directed my children to destroy the monsters that threatened all existence.”
Humans emerged among the monsters. A shimmering silhouette in the shape of a man approached the gorgon with a mirrored shield and in a single stroke took off its head. A young man, armed with a radiant sword and a blazing torch, threw himself on the hydra, cutting off its heads and burning the stumps. A prince on a Pegasus thrust a spear weighted with a block of lead into the chimera’s open mouth.
“With the monsters gone and the gods no longer willing or able to stop me, I laid the seeds for the glory of mankind.”
A prince in a red cloak and shining armor raised his sword above an impossibly intricate knot. Inside a cave, a she-wolf suckled a pair of twin boys.
“To those who sought me, I granted gifts. I showed them the uses of aetherium, both for creation and for destruction. Those who drank of my essence allowed me to change them, making them stronger, healthier, wiser. And to those rare few who earned that right, I showed myself and taught them my arts.”
Hammer of the Witches (The Covenant Chronicles Book 2) Page 21