After an hour of trudging through the sandy paths that led to the city of Nekheb I was absolutely convinced that I deeply needed to get in better shape. Beaten and battered from my recent necromancer punch up, I was huffing and puffing to keep up with Ul'Tak's long-shanked strides.
Thank god he'd shared from his water-skin or I wouldn't have made it. The water was hot and tasted vaguely of the animal the leather pouch had been cured from but as thirsty as I was it might as well have been ambrosia. I lapped up the water greedily as we walked, taking him at his word that he wouldn't need any.
Which brought me to my second conclusion. Ul'Tak wasn't human, at least not wholly so. There was something in his physical presence that was too deliberate for him to be vanilla mortal. His eyes focused a bit too far into the horizon, his heavy metal staff shouldn't have been carried one handed, and his heavy links mail troubled him no more than a T-shirt might have.
And I don't care how tough you are or how manly you think you are, you aren't going to be able to wear metal armor hot enough to fry an egg in the desert without sweating. Even Michael would have had trouble managing that, fist of God or no. But there he was, not even looking like he noticed the heat.
I hadn't been able to place his species yet, though I could be reasonably sure he wasn't a creature of the Nevernever. A fairy wouldn't ever willingly wear a jewelery of iron, the ferrous metal would burn their skin like acid.
That still left an unimaginably wide range of creatures to chose from. He referred to himself as a Jaffa, but I couldn't be sure if that were a nation, tribe, cast, or species.I could narrow that down once Bob and I had some privacy. For the moment 'not actively trying to kill me' was good enough for government work.
Which was just as well, because I kind of liked the guy.
He wasn't especially talkative, using few words and wasting fewer, but in his own way he had a rich sense of humor. I didn't get the half of it, but it spoke of a culture steeped in old ways and ancient tradition.
"Step too close to the servants of Apophis and you suffer his displeasure," he'd say when I stepped to close to the den of some poisonous creature or "The Tau'ri must walk on their own two feet before they try to fly," when he would step on loose shale and nearly fall.
He clearly considered me, a mere 'Tau'ri,' to be beneath him but there wasn't any malice in it. Humans were weak and frail, Jaffa were not. Ten miles of skirting disused goat paths and I was inclined to agree with him.
He could at least have pretended to be winded for my benefit, a man has his ego after all.
I whooped with joy when we climbed the summit of a particularly unpleasant hill made up of jagged rock formations and looked out into the valley beyond. Ul'tak, unamused by my antics, pointed over the wide sands to a vision in the distance, shimmering with the heat haze of the evening sun.
"Holy Pharaohs Batman," I whispered under my breath in amazement, "We are not absolutely not in Kansas any more Toto."
"Woof," Bob weakly whispered in reply from my waist as he looked out at the city beyond in equal shock.
There stood a secret city of pyramids and palaces untouched by the ravages of time and generations of grave robbers. Great structures pierced the sky that would have made Giza crawl up into a ball in shame, glittering with mirrored panels of gold and the shining white of polished marble. My inner nerd squealed in glee at the sight of several buildings which were unquestionably floating around the central pyramid.
Not flying, freaking floating as though gravity didn't apply to them. Many hundreds of tiny pyramid shaped ships flew in and out of the pyramids without any visible method of propulsion.
Catching sight of my dinner plate sized eyes Ul'tak chuckled in rich basso, "Yes, Nekheb. The Gem of Heka. The land of plenty, come Dre'su'den. Your thirst will soon be quenched."
He didn't have to tell me twice. We all but sprinted down the mountain, following a winding goat path covered in the footsteps of mail boots. If I'd been halfway conscious and not totally delirious from hunger and thirst it might have occurred to me that running towards the village full of preternaturally agile and strong creatures might not be the best idea.
Had I been paying attention I might not have run face first into a transparent barrier of energy blocking the outer gate to the city. I hit it with enough force to set my ears ringing and numb my lips from the discharge of electricity. My tongue, numbed by the abrupt electric shock, slurred my words drunkenly as I used a creative mix of profanity to demonstrate my displeasure.
"By the Gods I pray you are a spy," Ul'tak chuckled to himself as he waved to the guardhouse atop the wall, "Would that our enemies send such obvious infiltrators."
"I... but, wha?" Articulacy escaped me as the barrier shimmered out of existence then snapped back into place as we past. Stars and stones, the magical forces required to create a permanent barrier of that size had to be monumental. It would require concentrated geomancy and a level of skill that I'd only ever heard of as rumor before, "How on Earth?"
Clearly pleased at my reaction, Ul'tak slapped me across the shoulders, "The magics of the gods are not for us to understand, only to obey."
His claims of serving a god were starting to worry me. There were powerful beings on Earth, creatures who'd forged their magic through rites and rituals too terrible for moral man to comprehend. The gate to the White Council citadel in Edinburgh might have been just as strong as the gate to Nekheb but the gate had a physical form to it. Covered with runes and protective symbols to channel power the citadel's magics were a collective work of the bygone wizard-craft. The gate of Nekheb was power, pure and simple. No runes, no wards, no props, just a pure projection of power.
It was freaking scary.
I didn't know much about the Egyptian deities, other than that they were particularly nasty and fond of necromancy on a level that defied belief. If one of the ancient gods of the middle east really was in the city I wouldn't be able to take him one on one in a fight, not so close to his place of power. It would be like fighting Mab or Titania in the Nevernever.
It was madness to attack an old god close to his seat of power, it granted creatures of magic insight and abilities to dwarf my own at the best of times. If Heka wasn't friendly to your friendly neighborhood wizard bad things were on the horizon.
We would just have to hope the god was friendly.
Yeah, sure. Keep dreaming Harry.
Greeting my companion with a salute and a declaration of "first prime" a dozen Jaffa fell into step around Ul'Tak, oblong maces at the ready and faces devoid of emotion. The whole situation felt a bit 'sig heil' for my taste.
They marched me down the streets of the great city in a protective phalanx, as much to trap me in as keep dangers out. It was just as well to have them, or I might have gotten lost in the sea of humanity. In contrast to the great desert outside, Nekheb was a thriving metropolis.
As far as the eye could see there were people everywhere, real human people. A good head shorter than the Jaffa and clad in the sort of practical white linens one would expect from the Bedouin. Countless stalls sold savory meats and spiced vegetables that wafted their alluring smells across the city, mingling with the bitter but oh-so-glorious scent of coffee from behind the canvas sun screens of a the numerous cafés. Two blocks of delicious smells and enough was enough, "I need to eat something."
Ul'tak shoved me forwards, pushing hard into the middle of my back. "After you have spoken to Heka."
I dug my heels in and turned to face the man's stoic visage, taking care to have my own most wizardly glare, "No. I need to eat now. I'm no good to you hungry. It's in your best interest for me to eat."
The Jaffa tilted his head in confusion, "Explain."
"Look, if I actually am a spy you need me to be strong enough to withstand questioning. You can't get much out of me if I'm dead," the Jaffa laughed in amusement and I tried not to think too hard about the Egyptian death magic. They very well might have been able to get something out of me even after I'd died. I'd just have to make sure my death curse made that impossible.
I continued as though I hadn't noticed their laughter, "And if I'm not a spy it would be a violation of the rules of hospitality not to feed a weary traveler. If I am to defend myself I need the energy."
The laws of hospitality are a big deal to the supernatural community, even the biggest and baddest of them wouldn't consider violating them. Especially not the biggest and the baddest of them. So much of their power is tied up in rules that a violation of them would be dangerous, potentially fatally so.
A young Jaffa to Ul'tak's left chimed in, "Master Ul'tak let me teach this Tau'ri his place." He cracked his knuckles soundly to leave no doubt what he meant by it.
"No, no Bashir," Ul'tak shook his head and gestured with a finger to a street vendor. The astonished woman scurried over with her cart, bowing her head to avoid eye contact with the Jaffa, "Defeating a weak enemy proves nothing."
He pushed a thick coin into the woman's hands and pointed to me, "Feed him."
I took the pocket of meat and vegetables shoved into an unleavened bread from the woman with the most sincere "thank you" I could remember having given anyone, and bit into it with relish, enjoying the taste of spiced meat and yogurt sauce, "Move over Burger King, we have a new contender for the crown."
The Jaffa looked at me in stoic incomprehension. My wit is wasted on the supernatural community.
I devoured two of them, licking the wax paper they were served on to make sure none of the food was wasted, then drank a full flagon of water before nodding to Ul'tak, "I'm ready for anything. Thank you."
"You will earn that meal Dre'su'den." Ul'tak growled, "The hospitality of Heka is not without its price."
Slaked of hunger and thirst I followed my guide in apprehension as we marched through the city, wandering through avenues and paths that just hinted at many thousands of years of culture and development. Seemingly ancient hieroglyphs covered ziggurats stood atop multicolored frescoes of the Egyptian deities doing all sorts of godly things that couldn't have been more than a decade old.
It would have been beautiful if I hadn't been so god damned terrified. No longer hungry and starving my brain caught up to me enough to remind me why the name Heka sounded so freaking familiar. Heka was the Egyptian god of Magic, the king muckity-muck of all ritual magic.
And I had trespassed on his land. Stars and stones, just once I'd like for things to be easy.
"Not good Harry," Bob whispered to me as we walked past a row of spike mounted heads displayed as a warning to any would be heretics, "This is not good. The Egyptian pantheon was really not nice... Kemmler was fascinated with them... obsessed even... and you know nothing good ever came from something he liked."
"Shut up," I whispered back to the skull, "They'll hear you." I didn't need Bob reminding me of exactly how totally screwed I was. I knew that well enough on my own. And something told me that these people weren't going to react well to a disembodied head carrying a servitor spirit. Call it a hunch but I wasn't going to risk it.
I had to squint my eyes as we walked into the largest pyramid, the reflection of torchlight on the polished gold made it impossible to see through the blinding brightness. Stars blinked in my eyes as we walked the length of the corridor, passing servants and slaves dressed in altogether too little for my own sense of modesty.
"Donald Trump eat your heart out," I chuckled to myself as we passed a particularly nubile woman covered in piercings in places best left unmentioned as she sanctified a three story high statute of the god Heka.
Alluring chamber maidens dressed in even less than nothing kneeled on either side of the door, their shaved heads tattooed with a thick mess of hieroglyphics that implied sorceries of the darkest sort. The women pulled apart a set of thick purple velvet curtains, allowing Ul'tak to pass into the inner chamber.
The Sanctum Sanctorum of Heka, god of Magic.
Stars and stones it was gaudy.
At the far side of a wide chamber a man of Middle Eastern heritage lounged upon a throne that appeared to have been cut from a giant hunk of ruby. He sat in indolence, idly watching as two humans attacked each other with swords within circle ten yards wide surrounded by a barrier glowing with the same energy as the city gate. Even at a distance it made my skin pulse with the energy of ambient magic.
I gasped in horror as one of the men in the circle made a clumsy lunge with his blade, overbalancing and exposing himself to his opponent. The fatal blow echoed around the room with a fleshy thump of metal on bone. The winner severed his opponents head and held it up in triumph to the charnel cheers of the watching Jaffa. The sound echoed with their joyous blood lust.
The human servants continued with their everyday chores in the place, paying the lethal violence no attention at all. Years of such violent displays doubtlessly left them anesthetized to their appeal. In a way their silent acceptance disturbed me far more than the blood lust of the Jaffa ever could.
I could understand anger, lust, fear, death and hunger. But apathy? Total apathy? It terrified me.
I don't know what possessed me to open up my wizard's sight, curiosity or madness. I looked out at the crowd of cheering men and their god, only to see the glowing hateful eyes of serpents staring back at me in boundless lust. They protruded from the bellies of men, wrapping round their bodies like fleshy, barbed manacles.
Heka wore a noose of serpent that curled up over the head of him like a crown, preening regally whilst he screamed in eternal horror. A river of blood flowed from Heka's robes, soaking the ground as far as the eye could see with sorrowfully sticky red blood. A million arms reached out of the river, clawing at the hem of his robes in impotent fury. They bellowed their ghostly challenges calling him murderer and demon, but they couldn't even muss the hem of his garment.
I didn't vomit, but it was a close call as I closed all three of my eyes in horror. Heka was evil, plain and simple evil.
Evil and powerful, it was a dangerous combination.
Heka, amused by the gristly spectacle clapped his hands twice and dissolved the barrier. Speaking an a voice that rumbled with inhuman power he strode forward and accepted the severed head from his kneeling supplicant, "See how my faithful obey me. He has slain the unworthy and bolstered me with his power. I am Heka, and I am merciful."
He reached down and cradled the man's head, examining the deep cuts and bruises. He waved to a golden armored jaffa, "Take him to the Sarcophagus and see to his wounds. He has done well."
The man stumbled to his feet with the Jaffa's assistance, struggling to walk on a severed hamstring. His god watched him leave in mild paternal amusement, observing him like a favored pet, "Very well indeed."
He pointed a finger at the dismembered corpse and three bolts of lightning shot out from a device on his wrist, dissolving the corpse into vapor. No ash, no char, just two chirping bursts of lightning and the body vanished into thin air.
Ul'tak grabbed me by the nape of my neck and shoved me face first to the ground as his god crossed the circle. Unprepared for the rough treatment I squawked in protest as my face hit the stone, earning me a punch to the kidney for my troubles and knocking the wind out of me.
On bended knee he put his balled fist over his heart in salute, bowing his head in reverence, "My Lord Heka. I discovered this trespasser in the badlands at the edge of the Teeth of Sokkar."
"How interesting," The Egyptian deity examined me with predatory eyes covered in thick black makeup, pulling at a long braided beard on his chin. The thick jewelry on his right hand clacked and clattered against a palm sized ruby in his fist. The gem glowed with ambient power, hinting at the sorcerous might it concealed. I swallowed nervously wondering what other magics were up his sleeve, "No matter, it will provide what it knows before it dies."
"He claims not to be a spy," Ul'tak continued, "And I believe him."
"You are too credulous my first prime," Heka tutted malevolently, "However we can discover the truth of it. There are ways of making even the tightest of tongues loosen."
"I'm not a spy," I tried to lift my head, only to get kicked in the side by a Jaffa. Spitting up a mouthful of blood I repeated myself, "My name is Harry Dresden. I'm from Chicago. I am not a spy. I'm here by accident."
Heka reached down and touched the silver pentacle dangling from my neck, hissing in disgust. "A symbol of Osiris of the Ba Duat. And you claim not to be a spy?" The god laughed, a cruel echoing menace, "Unlikely."
"Hold on a second," Oh crap. This was not good, "Who gives you the right to tell me who I am? "
"A god need not justify himself to a mortal ant," Heka's eyes glowed with fury, shimmering with preternatural energies, "Jaffa kill him."
"I request that he be given Tek'pa'kor to prove his honor," Ul'tak bowed his head deferentially and put himself between Heka and myself, "Let him die with honor if he is to die."
"A right of combat? For a spy? " Heka laughed uproariously in his cruel cackle, "And does the Tau'ri consent to a trial by combat, knowing the price of failure. The fight is to the death."
"You aren't exactly giving me a whole heck of a lot of options," I gritted my teeth and looked up at the Heka in defiance, "I'm not going quietly. And if possible I'm not going at all." I wouldn't be able to fight my way out past a thousand soldiers, but I might be able to take a singe Jaffa in combat. Better to rely upon the protection of old world hospitality.
God bless the predictability of ancient supernatural beasties.
"Arrogance, defiance, pride," The god waved vaguely to the raised stone circle, "Rob him of these Ul'tak. I wish for this to end. I would have another Jaffa do the deed though. Ge'mok is in need of the training."
"As you wish my Lord," Ul'tak stood, lifting me to my feet one handed. Considering that I'm about six feet tall and just shy of two hundred pounds that's no small feat.
Hundreds of tattooed faces watched us walk to the circle, eying me with mild amusement. I caught distant whispers of amusement from the Jaffa, none of them seemed to think I had a chance. Well to hell with them. It was time to show them what a Wizard of the White Council, a Warden no less, could do when backed into a corner.
"You may use any weapons you have on you Tau'ri. Once you step into the ring the barriers will rise and you will fight till one of you no longer lives," Ul'tak whispered into my ear as we went, doing his best to inform me of the rules in the seconds before the battle, "Ge'mok is not without a heart, he will allow you to wound him before he goes for the kill so that you may be buried with honor."
"And if I kill him first?" I cracked my knuckles and stretched my arms over my head, trying desperately not to notice the seven foot tall wall of pure muscle selecting weapons off the opposite wall. The man's biceps were the size of my entire torso, "What happens then?"
"It will be a shame for such foolish bravery to be extinguished," Ul'tak sighed disappointedly and quirked his brow in bemusement, "To the victor goes the prize, your life."
I pulled the glove from my mangled hand, balling the desiccated appendage into a fist, "I'll just have to make sure not to lose then."
Ul'tak incredulously watched the crippled human stride onto the stage like a conquering hero. I had to look absolutely absurd, haggard and still covered the detritus of the Darkhallow; more vagrant than fighter.
Well it's what you do that counted, not how you looked. And I had more than my share of doing left in me, "Bob, any suggestions?"
"Hit him till he doesn't move any more?" Bob's eye narrowed, focusing on the Jaffa, "Duels aren't exactly my specialty boss."
"Christ Bob," I snorted, "I could have figured that out on my own. What am I paying you for?"
"Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer," Bob hissed in reply, "I don't have the answer to every question, just the ones that matter."
"I kind of feel like this one counts," I snarled in annoyance as I watched Heka recline into his ruby seat.
The godling surveyed us from behind the barrier, reclining in his throne as he smiled and bellowed, "You who are about to die, we salute you."
The giant stepped into the ring, stamping the heel of his staff on the ground twice and bowing in salute to me as the blue energies of the barrier snapped into place. I cracked my staff in reply, tilting my heady sightly by way of reply before falling into a defensive posture.
Not that it did me any good.
With a speed entirely unfair for his size the massive man crossed the two yards between us, driving his staff into my midriff like a spear. I rolled with the impact, spinning around and cracking him across the back of the head with my own staff. The Jaffa roared in fury, jabbing backwards with the flaring silver cobra head on the bottom and catching me at my ankle in it's crook.
I had the time to yelp a surprised, "woah," before he'd flipped me onto my back and stomped a booted foot into my sternum with a kick that cracked bone audibly. My eyes bulged with pain and shock as he leaned into my fractured ribs, grinding his food backwards and forwards as he rose his staff for the killing blow, "I take no pleasure in this Tau'ri. May you find peace in the afterlife."
No more mister nice wizard. I raised my hand and tapped into the energies in my rings, splaying my fingers and shoving them upwards into Ge'mok's chest. His pity turned to astonishment as a shockwave of magical force flung him into the air, tossing him to collide with the hard stone a yard back.
I give the guy credit, he recovered from the shock of facing a wizard fast.
He rolled with the impact, tucking his body into a ball and twisting into a panful kneel before righting himself and advancing on me. He whirled his staff around his body in a complex motion that was nearly a dance, the glittering silvery metal flashing with reflections of the torchlight.
Then, without warning the end of his mace opened up like a blooming flower and a basketball sized burst of light rocketed out towards me with a thunderous squelch of energy. I raised my shield winched as the blinding force of it collided with the barrier, exploding into a thunderous burst of sound.
I ducked to avoid another two bursts of energy from the staff before screaming, "Vintas servitas."
My attacker fumbled with his weapon as an gust of sorcerous wind tried to tear it from his fingers, shouting in frustration. It gave me enough time to focus my mind and prepare what came next.
My battle magics weren't as powerful as they once had been. I hadn't used fire magic since losing my hand, even simple evocations of candle flame had been too much for me to manage. But fire wasn't the only elemental magic at my disposal.
My mentor, Ebeneezer McCoy, had insisted that I learn at least one application of earth magic. It would more or less tap me out on earth magic for the next week but given my adrenaline and my need it would have to do. I reached out to the energies around me, tapping into the ambient energies bled off by the barrier trapping us inside the circle.
As Ge'mok righted his grasp on his staff I smashed the bottom of my staff into the ground, its runes glowing red hot and smoldering sulfurously as I tapped into the power of hellfire. The stone floor split in two, widening into a cavernous maw of empty earth into which the terrified Jaffa plummeted. I swung my gnarled paw in a cutting motion across my chest and pulled apart the magics keeping the earth split.
The Jaffa screamed in incomprehensible pain as the walls of the stone pit collided in a horrible wet twisting of pulverized flesh. Utter and complete silence filled the room as the blue barrier dropped, leaving me to face Heka as what remained of his servant bubbled up through cracks in the stone circle. Wet charnel syrup pooled into a puddle at the center of the circle.
I expected Heka to be angry, annoyed, possibly even furious. But when he looked into my eyes, all I saw was hunger. I pulled away as I felt the first tugs of a soul gaze, the last thing I wanted to know was what lay behind those terrible glowing eyes.
"I trust that satisfies your test," I growled in anger. I hadn't wanted to kill Ge'mok, shouldn't have needed to kill him. Something about being forced to kill a man for some lesser god's amusement was pissing me right the hell off, "Now let me go."
"I think not," The god smiled eagerly, "I couldn't possibly part with such a promising specimen. No, I have plans for you."
"Like hell!" I growled, "You promised me my freedom."
"I promised you honor," Heka grinned predatory, "There is no greater honor than being the host to your god. Jaffa kree."
I heard a chirruping sound that reminded me of crickets echoing from behind me, and then everything faded to black. Just not my day all around, today was just awful. And tomorrow wasn't fixing to be any better.
Stars and stones I needed a vacation.