Chapter Two

 

The nun hummed as she scrawled on the floor with a chunk of chalk. Simone stood in the center of the circle and watched her work with a furrowed brow. She had been told, repeatedly, that Mary was many very important, serious sounding things. Hierophant of Babylon, the person who was responsible for keeping every religious faction in the massive city from tearing their throats out, the head of a chunk of Christian descended worshipers of, well, Mary. As in Mary, mother of Jesus.

Apparently, without the use of translation spells, her name sounded as similar to Mary as Jesus (spoken by a Hispanic person) did to Jesus.

Simone could have handled all of that if Mary hadn’t looked like a cartoon demoness dressed in a nun fetish outift. Simone tried to keep her face straight as Mary stood, dusting her hands off as she looked down at the circle. “What next, Dianna?”

The woman standing beside Liam, looking as if she wanted to lean over and lick him curiously, looked over to Mary. She blinked slowly, owlishly, and then craned her head forward as she looked at the ritual circle that Mary had drawn. Dianna was a human priestess of Aphrodite, though she didn’t really look that way to Simone’s eyes. She’d have expected someone...bigger. And more...movie star beautiful. Dianna was instead a rail thin girl with hair that draped to the small of her back. She wore a diaphanous robe of white silk, which seemed to be nearly translucent as she walked around. Since it was long enough to conceal her feet, she didn’t seem to walk so much as simply float from place to place.

“It looks all right,” she said, her voice an airy sing song.

“It looks all right?” Liam asked, craning his head to look over the massive pile of ritual supplies that he had been given to hold. Three narrow candlesticks, a tuft of thick fur that looked like it had been cured, and a cage with a bored looking white bird in it. The bird would have looked completely normal on Earth, save for the pair of thick antenna sticking out of its head, which twitched and felt out the edges of the cage with tiny flicks and twists.

“Yes,” Dianna said, nodding.

“I want more than a looks all right for this,” Liam said, grunting as he shifted the weight he was holding. “We’re talking a pretty significant biological change.”

“This ritual is ancient and hallowed,” Dianna said, her voice serious. “When Ishtar’s worship faded millennia hence, before Aphrodite was banished to Purgatory, her followers came to the lands of the Hellenes. With them they brought many rituals, and this was one of the most hallowed. Born of sea-foam and tapped deeply into the mysteries of the feminine, Aphrodite claimed the ritual and has kept it kindled. Now, as a priestess of her, it is my duty to ensure it is cast properly. And so...” She breathed in, then spread her hands. “I declare it looks all right.”

Liam looked less than convinced.

Simone, meanwhile, was swinging wildly between pissing herself with excitement and intense skepticism. She’d seen Meg bend bronze with her bare hands. She had seen Liv backhand someone into a wall so hard the wall shattered. But there was something understandable about that. Strength, but more so? Easy.

This?

This was upending a lifetime of what she expected.

But…

Hey.

She hadn’t expected going on estrogen to be as effective as it was. And so, she nodded and said: “I always was told to trust experts.”

“My thanks, sister,” Dianna said, inclining her head. Then, with poorly disguised glee, she gestured her hands and said. “Place the first candle there. No, there, Lord Vanderbilt. And do be careful to not smudge anything!”

Mary pursed her lips, crossing her arms across her chest as she watched Liam carefully stepped over chalk lines. Dianna managed to control her amusement enough to get the candlesticks set up. They had no candles in them. Simone was about to ask about that, but before she could, Dianna clapped her hands together and announced: “We begin the ritual. Please, strip, sister.”

“Should I go?” Liam asked.

“Yes, please,” Simone said, her voice firm.

Liam bowed his head and turned to go. Mary turned to go as well, her spade-tipped tail twitching from side to side. Dianna looked at Simone curiously. Simone scowled at her. “Not everyone here has an exhibition fetish.”

“What’s a fetish?” Dianna asked, her voice still faintly dreamy.

“A-” Simone paused. “You’re up for just about anything, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Dianna said, breezily.

Simone made a face. Then, working quickly, she unbuttoned her her shirt and shucked it off. She tried to drag her brain out of the lewd atmosphere of Purgatory – damn it, Ceres – and back to the casual, detached attitude of a locker room. It was just another girl. Nothing lewd here. Save that when she finished taking off her sports bra, Dianna licked her lips with clear appreciation. Simone glared at her, and the somewhat airy priestess completely missed the hint. Her excitement only grew more pronounced as Simone hooked her thumbs in her pants and slipped them down.

As per usual, Simone had to grit her teeth and power through the feeling of wrongness that came when she undid her underwear and her male member came free. It was shrunken compared to what it had been thanks to years of estrogen, and feeling the cool air of the room on her privates made Simone’s skin crawl. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see what Dianna thought of her.

“We begin,” Dianna said. Then, with a clap, she began to chant. The words didn’t rhyme, translated as they were, but underneath the English, Simone could half hear the sounds that were supposed to come from Dianna’s lips. They were musical and beautiful and filled her with a growing sense of wellbeing.

“Without your consent, no destiny is determined, the most ingenious solution finds no favor.

To run fast, to slip away, to calm, to pacify are yours, Aphrodite,

To dart aimlessly, to go too fast, to fall, to get up, to sustain a comrade are yours, Aphrodite.

To open high road and byroad, safe lodging on the way, helping the worn-out along are yours, Aphrodite.

To make footpath and trail go in the right direction, to make the going good are yours, Aphrodite.

To destroy, to create, to tear out, to establish are yours, Aphrodite.

To turn a man into a woman and a woman into a man are yours, Aphrodite!”

And with the last line, Dianna clapped again. Throughout the chant, a growing, tingling, buzzing feeling had started in Simone’s gut. It had flared outwards, then sunk back, like the movement of the tides. Each time the goddess’ name had been called out, the flare had gotten further and further. At the last call, it reached her fingertips, and Simone gasped in shock as she felt her whole body roiling. Something deep inside of her lurched and she fell to her knees.

Her palms slapped onto the ground and when she opened her eyes, she saw that sweat was beading and dripping onto the ground. Her fingers pressed against the ground and she trembled as every muscle knotted, then slowly relaxed. She felt her hips creaking, her ribs groaning...and then her bones settled. Her body ached, from her nose to her toes. But it was a pleasant ache. Like running for miles and ending up in a burning, aching, happy mess. Endorphins filled her brain and she laughed despite herself.

Then she sat back on her thighs and tentatively dropped her hands between her thighs.

Her eyes widened.

“Whoa.”

Her head spun.

 

***

 

Liam paced back and forth in one of the meeting rooms of the palace, his brow furrowing. “The thing that bugs me?” he said.

“You didn’t notice?” Meg asked, grinning at him.

“I didn’t notice!” Liam threw up his hands. “Why didn’t you point it out?”

“Because it was cute watching you checking her out,” Meg said, playfully. “Besides, I figured it wouldn’t matter.”

Liam frowned. It wouldn’t have. Would it? He tried to picture what his reaction would be if he and Simone had...well...progressed beyond being friends to the next stage. Of course, he wasn’t even sure if they counted as being friends right now. She was polite and competent and had come to rescue him. But she had also muttered about how incredibly illegal it had been for a United States citizen to become the dictator of his own small country. And, uh, looking at it from a purely legal perspective...Liam could see the issue.

He shook his head. “It wouldn’t have,” he said.

“Then what’s the problem?” Meg asked, her voice playful.

“Nothing!” Liam said.

“Then why so defensive?” Meg stuck her tongue out at him.

“I’m not being defensive!” Liam said, defensively. Then, scowling, he put his hands on his hips. “I just...” He paused. “O-Okay, I’m half mad at myself, because I think of myself as progressive, open minded, nice! But what if I got Simone’s pants down and freaked out about...about...”

“Her diiiiiiick?” Meg giggled.

Liam glared at her. “It’s not funny!”

“It is kind of funny,” Meg said, cheerfully. Then, seriously, she reached out with one wing to scoop Liam over to her. His chin rested on her shoulder as she slid her arm around his back and squeezed him. “If it helps, I only make fun because I know you would have been a perfect gentlemen.”

Liam chuckled against her shoulder.

“And then fucked her ass.”

Liam laughed.

Dianna floated by, followed by a pair of incredibly burly looking lizardmen, carrying Simone – her body haphazardly dressed in her uniform. Thought I looked like they hadn’t quite been sure how to get her pants on right, and so they had simply tied her belt around her hips. Her clothes also seemed to be slightly too loose. Then the small procession was past. Liam looked back at Meg, arching an eyebrow.

“Do you think it worked?” he asked.

Meg nodded. “My question is why anyone named a girl Dianna – the Roman name for Artemis, the virgin goddess of the hunt – and she started worshiping Aphrodite, the girl who spread her legs for a definition of man so broad she fucked a general artificial intelligence embodied in a robotic shell.”

Liam snorted. In the distance, though, he heard a barking voice, followed by shouting. Meg’s wings mantled and she frowned and followed Liam as he strode forward. They came out into t he main entrance of the palace, where the gate guards were standing before a mud streaked lizardman dressed in a thin set of robes. He was tottering on his feet, and saying: “I told you, the papers were destroyed! Get Fizit and she’ll tell you I am who I said I am!”

“Then remain calm,” the gate guard – a burly human made all the more intimidating in his official uniform and with his crystal musket – said, using his musket to bar the man.

Liam saw a great many faces and heard a lot of names as a Free Lord. Seeing this lizard sparked no immediate recognition, but that didn’t mean that Fizit wouldn’t immediately bring out a full name and history of service. Liam glanced at Meg, but saw she was already gone. The lizardman chose that moment to step backwards, pant once, then collapse to the ground. Liam started forward.

“Get a healer!”

Five minutes later, the lizardman was laid on a bed in one of the guest rooms. Wiping away the mud and cutting away the clothes revealed that he had been shot at least once. The bandage he had wrapped around the wound had stemmed the bleeding, and then rushed back to Babylon. But without any more than the most basic healing spells worked into the fabric, the wound had sickened. Lizards remained tougher and more sturdy than humans (which was saying something, considering human toughness), but their nearly superhuman levels of regeneration and stamina had faded since the death of Sysminor.

Tethis drew her palms away from his chest, a glow fading from her fingers as she sighed. “He’ll live. I’ve burned out the fever.”

Fizit, her knuckle resting between her jaws, drew her hand away from her mouth as she said: “Can we wake him?”

“It’ll hurt...” Tethis said, frowning. “And there’s something strange about his left hand.” She patted his left hand, her finger gently palpating the scales and muscles. Her brow furrowed ever so slightly as she felt him.

“I know Tzali,” Fizit said. “He can take the pain do it.”

Tethis glanced at Liam. Liam, his arms crossed over his chest, frowned and nodded. He trusted Fizit. But more than that, he needed to know. According to the Blinking Stars, the Kailey’s ship, the Morrigan’s Kiss, had arrived in the waters off the coast of the Hellespont and had started to engage in what Kailey and Quinn did best. Piracy. But it was only a matter of time before the Monodeists put their own ships out to hunt them.

They needed a long term plan.

Tethis pressed her palms to Tzali’s chest and sent a pulse of energy into him. He gasped, his eyes opening. They were wide and flicked left, right, everywhere. Then, seeing that he was safe, he closed his eyes again and wheezed slowly as he relaxed into the bed. His tongue darted out and he licked his muzzle, then...started to talk.

“I got within eye-shot of the hole. There are at least three paladins there. One of them shot me in the back. But I also made contact with, uh, some locals. The natives, from Hellespont. They have a demigoddess leading them.” He nodded his head. “She’s got contacts with the slaves they have digging in the Endless Mine. That’s what they call it.”

Liam frowned. “What is it?”

“The Ancients,” Tzali said, quietly. “It’s something they built. I had to get in, to see it up close. I snuck in at night, using some field craft. And I saw that the mine...” He shook his head. “It’s cursed. A slave was walked up to the entrance and turned, instantly.” He snapped his finger. It made an odd clink noise. “To iron.”

Tethis snatched his wrist, yanking it closer to her eyes. Her breath drew in a quick gasp and Liam leaned forward.

The odd finger she had seen?

It shone. Like metal.

“Got a bit too close,” he said, quietly. “That’s how I saw her. A human, no slave collar. But she was talking funny. Like you, m’Lord.” He nodded to Liam. “And she was working with tools. Tools from a box with an eagle on it and letters. English ones.”

Liam gulped slowly. “Do you remember the letters? The numbers?”

Tzali smiled and jerked his head in a quick nod.

 

***

 

“A predator drone!?” Liam exploded.

Simone rubbed her temples. “Vanderbilt,” she said, her voice sour. “Changing your entire biological sex kinda gives you a fuck of a hangover. Please. Keep it. The. Fuck. Down.”

Liam paced back and forth before the bed the Army Ranger sprawled in. She had drawn a blanket up to her chin and was glaring sullenly at him – like she was upset that he was fucking with her during a time that should have a time of celebration for her. Liam, personally, didn’t give a fuck. “You shipped here with a fucking predator drone? What the fuck were you thinking? This is a bronze age world!”

“President Deinhardt didn’t-”

“Wait, who?” Liam asked.

“President Deinhardt didn’t send us here to get killed,” Simone growled.

Liam looked like a man who had been flicked right between the eyes. He spluttered and shook his head. “Deinhardt? That, he wasn’t one of the c-”

“We don’t like to talk about it,” Simone snapped. “And she.”

“Oh,” Liam said, looking pleased. “The dems won?”

“She’s Republican,” Simone said, slowly laying back in bed.

“Oh,” Liam said, looking less pleased.

Simone sighed slowly. “The drone was going to pull double duty. We had to check out an entire planet for one American teenager. It wasn’t going to be easy.” She rubbed her palm against one of her eyes, her expression becoming even more grim. “The idea was floated around to send a civilian drone. But we needed a drone with sufficient range, durability, optics and happens to be one that the US government has been teaching pukes to fly for the better part of a decade.” She shrugged. “It didn’t hurt they’re on hand.”

“And the weapons?” Liam asked, slowly sitting down on a stool next to the bed. Simone relaxed faintly, letting the blanket drop from her chin to her shoulders and chest. It molded to the curves of her breasts and Liam tried to remain focused with the task on hand. That grew a few notches harder as Simone shoved herself upwards slightly, letting her arms peek from underneath the sheets. Transitioning from mostly biologically female to entirely biologically female hadn’t done a thing to her impressive physique.

“I argued for them,” she said, her voice flat. “What if we ran into organized opposition. Numbers would always be against us. So.” She shrugged. “Why not bring something to even the scales.”

Liam rubbed his palms against his face. He sighed slowly as he let his hands drop into his lap.

“Honestly? I wish I could blame you,” he said. “But I can’t. I’ve done similar things here.”

“I’ve noticed,” Simone said, her lips pursing. “Now, if you would kindly get out of the room. I kind of need to get dressed.”

Liam blinked.

Then he started. “Oh! Oh! Uh, oh-” he stood up, decades of American mores slammed into his spine like a sledgehammer. His face heated and he held up his hands. “I was, uh, oh! Sorry! I-”

Simone managed to keep her face straight. She just lifted one eyebrow as Liam backed through the door and into the corridor. Liam spent the time she took getting dressed bringing everyone together. Meg, Liv, Tethis, Fizit, Laurentinus  and last, but far from least, Diayat. Diayat remained a point of gossip in the palace. Who was she? Where had she come from? What did she have to do with Anubis? She shared some of his features – the furred jackal ears and the poofy jackal tail. But, unlike the average Chosen of Anubis, she lacked the other features: No fur, no muzzle.

Fizit had been very good at keeping the actual truth quiet.

Diayet still looked uncomfortable in her skin and in her world as she sat at the edge of the meeting table. Her finger went to the gleaming null-collar she wore. That collar was what kept her Diayet and not, as she had been for almost five millennia, the god Anubis. Liam tried to imagine what it must have been like. From everything Diayet had said, the transition from priestess of a distant and potentially unreal god to being Anubis in the flesh had been so subtle she hadn’t noticed.

At first, people had said she was as even handed as Anubis.

Then people had seen her cast miracles. Then the rumors had changed, the stories had shifted, until she had been the god in the stories. And as the stories changed, she had changed.

“You okay?” Liam asked as Fizit and Simone arrived last, muttering to one another.

“I still feel...fragile,” Diayet said, her hand reaching up to touch the collar reflexively. “Like I’m one step away from not being me anymore. It makes going to sleep at night a bit...terrifying.” She shuddered. “Do you know we cease to be in the world beyond this one if people forget us? If our shrines go untended, our names are unsaid.” She sighed. “Do you think that someone can return to being after thousands of years of forgetfulness?”

Liam looked down at his hands, then at her. “I don’t know. But even if you didn’t remember him as your husband as Anubis, you’d still have recalled him as one of your followers. Right?”

“I...” Diayet closed her eyes. Tears brimmed. “Damn it all, I don’t know. That life is as blank as a long dream.”

“That hasn’t stopped Ares,” Liv said, her voice gruff as she walked past Liam’s, dragged a chair out and threw herself down next to Diayet. Diayet started at the sudden scrape of wood on stone, then blinked, her ears flicking back curiously as she saw Liv’s face.

“Don’t ask,” Liv said, wiping at the smears of paint, dribbling bits of spittle, and the chunk of building block that had gotten caught in her hair.

The meeting came to order as Fizit clapped her hands to draw everyone’s attention. “We’ve got to decide what we’re going to do about the Endless Mine. According to reports, the mine turns anything made of living flesh into steel. That steel is already being used to arm and equip Ares’ Paladins. If their Earth scientist is forced to learn more about how the mine functions, then he might give his entire army steel. Not just swords, but cannons, tanks, ironclads. Steelclads. Whatever.” She sighed. “There’s just two things that concern me. The first is that reaching the mine requires fighting our way through marshes and jungles. The second is that Agent Tzali has been compromised.”

Tethis jerked up her head. “I- no!” she shook her head. “I cast truth seeking spells on him, and monitored his biorhythms, there is no way he could have been lying.”

Fizit flicked her tail, her hands clasped behind her back. “So, we’re supposed to believe a spy managed to slip past a defensive fortification with a three hundred sixty degree cleared field, measured about a half a mile to the tree-line, with no brush, and enough paladins and soldiers to man the entire wall. Then he got close enough to see what the Endless Mine does without debilitating himself – hell, that he got close enough without being turned to steel where he stood?” She shook her head. “Then a paladin with a blessed flintlock pistol put the round into his shoulder blade and not, say, his spine?”

Quiet glances were exchanged.

“We have three options. Either Ares forces are incompetent, and we know they’re not, your spell failed, and I’m willing to believe the finest healer in Purgatory knows her job...”

Tethis flushed.

“...or finally, someone cast a spell that makes Agent Tzali think that he saw what he saw. They put a round into his back, then let him go.”

Simone shook her head. “Are you sure you haven’t worked for the CIA?”

“Amateurs,” Fizit said, twitching her tail. “They don’t have to deal with magic, teleportation, gods, and the Ancients.”

Liam tucked his head forward, his chin bumping his chest.

“Here’s what I think,” Meg said. “We try an air assault. It worked during the war.”

“An orbital drop...” Liam murmured.

“No,” Tethis said, quickly. “That’ll destroy the mine!”

“Is that bad? It’s turning people into steel,” Meg pointed out.

“But how?” Tethis exclaimed, throwing out her hands. “You don’t know! It might be a field, some kind of automated ray, a plague. What if hitting the mine with a few hundred tons of superheated ceramics just spreads the field everywhere? What if it destroys Purgatory? We’ve already seen what happens when Ancient magic runs up against explosives.”

Liam’s missing foot ached. He could remember the screaming cold dragging at his body, the rough feeling of the ground rasping as he was pulled inexorably towards the hole that Sysminor’s death had blown in the side of Purgatory. Seeing the expression on Meg’s face, he could see she was remembering too. Meg cocked her head, looking like she was ticking her way through more possibilities. She shook her head.

“A straight on air attack would run right into cannons. We could do it if we didn’t mind getting chewed to pieces. Fuck.” She chewed her lip.

Laurentinus broke his long silence by laughing. The goblin general was the man in charge of the Cross Guard. Liam grinned.

“Want to share your thoughts?” he asked.

“Yes, but if only because I don’t like my career,” Laurentinus said. “But considering the number of rivers and marshes, don’t you want an admiral here?”

Liam slapped his forehead.

“I hope you don’t think our every military operation is planned this way,” Meg said, nodding to Simone, who was looking like she was trying to pick her next words with care.

“It’s only most of them,” Liv said.

“Dude!” Liam said, sliding his hand away from his face. “Can someone send for the admiralty?”

The admiralty was a slightly grandiose term. Despite a massive building project and some of the most advanced ships on the sea, Purgatory didn’t require the same massive array of officers that, say, the Royal British Navy had required. There was one admiral. But he, like every naval officer or pirate brigand or merchant captain, had devoured the three Patrick O’Brian novels that Liam had brought with him to Purgatory. They had pored over every page and sketched out diagrams of what they thought the technical jargon meant. This hadn’t just impacted the sailing ships that swept across the Platonic Sea.

It had also influenced Admiral Horatio Thrawn Cochrane.

And not just in what new names he had picked. Admiral Cochrane stepped into the meeting room with a level of spit and polish that nearly matched what Simone had to be used to, wearing the blue painted tunic and short kilt that was the naval uniform of Babylon. He had a single medal pinned to his chest – he had earned his post hunting down pirates during the long refugee scramble after the end of the War of the False God. Other than the uniform and the medal and the intensity of discipline that roiled off him, the Admiral was the picture of a Coptic. Coppery-brown skin, with a shaved head that was decorated by a black wig, and kohl make up to keep the sun from his eyes.

“M’lord,” he said.

“At ease, Admiral,” Liam said, feeling suddenly awkward. He glanced at Simone and wondered what she had to be thinking. Here he was. Fuck, if he hadn’t been dragged into Purgatory years ago, he’d have been in college, trying to pick his degree. The momentary reflection of just how surreal this was nearly made him dizzy.

Bringing Admiral Cochrane up to speed was the matter of a few moments. He looked at the map, then chuckled.

“Well, we can bring some heavy guns within range easily. Easily. And enchanted armor piercing delayed explosives can knock those cannons out-” he snapped his finger. “Like that.”

“Are you sure about that?” Liam asked.

The admiral opened his mouth, considered. He shook his head. “Nothing can be entirely certain in warfare, Lord Vanderbilt. If their defenses include, say, theistic shields, similar to those seen in the engagement you had a few months ago...” He shrugged. “Then our shells will be little better then shrapnel shot against hardened fortifications.”

“It’s still better than nothing,” Liam said, rubbing his chin.

“There’s a way we can make it a more sure thing,” Simone said. “You say there are natives resisting the bad guys?”

Fizit nodded. “Apparently headed by a demigod, likely Neriad, the daughter of Posedian.”

“We bring them support,” Simone said. “And see if they can’t get us inside. A castle only works from the outside. And you say they’re digging into some kind of facility.  If we can find the other exits...”

“Did you miss the part where entering the mines acts like making out with Medusa?” Liv asked.

“Hey, we bring Tethis, then. She’s supposed to be an expert on this Ancient shit, right?” Simone asked. “Even if she doesn’t figure out a way to sneak in, we can still work with the locals while waiting for the big guns to show up.”

Tethis considered it. “I can think of a few ways Ancient magic might be doing this...” she muttered, quietly, as she pulled a napkin to herself and started to scribble on it with one of her quills. Liam could already tell that the rest of the world was fading from her perceptions. Her scribbles became a constant piece of background noise.

“A forward operation,” Fizit said. “With Simone and Tethis and-”

“Me,” Liam said.

Everyone looked at him.

“Are you insane?” Simone asked, slowly.

Liam ticked the points off on his fingers. “I’ve navigated Ancient labyrinths before. I’ve faced down Ancient constructs that no one else has even seen. I can recognize if we’re running, say, Nyarlathotep. Oh, also, if we’re making diplomatic contact with a member of the Dodekatheon, you want to bring as much clout to bear as possible to keep them from being raging dick waffles about it.”

Dickwaffles? Simone mouthed.

“Liam has a remarkably optimistic view of the Dodekatheon,” Liv said. “I’m in too.”

“Me too,” Meg said.

Fizit hissed, quietly. Her tail started to lash – but Liam could see her thinking furiously. Then she ducked her head forward. “Damn it all. That is the best hope we have, isn’t it?” She put her hands on her hips. “But I’m still going to insist that you don’t get onto the front lines. You stay in a supervisory and diplomatic position alone. And to make sure that happens,  I’ll be sending some specialists.”

Liam grinned. Sending specialists was Fizit’s way of surrendering.

A half beat later, he remembered his children and felt a sudden twisting of a knife of guilt in his gut. But by then it was already too late.