Hello everyone, and happy holidays! I managed to finish out NaNoWriMo with 60k words... But I'm still working on writing an ending for the story :').
neokid93: I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations! And, no, Mr Lancer doesn't get paid enough for this.
Black Cat: You know what they say! No plan ever survives contact with the enemy.
Anne Camp (171): He is breaking stuff down. :)
DJTimmer (171): It is, a little bit. But you have to remember that Danny is still recovering from injuries, and he has a vague understanding of how this has to play out for his future to come to pass. The Observants aren't really carrying any extra weapons, per se, but as ghosts they are never unarmed.
dragondancer123 (171): That was sort of the feeling I was trying to go with. :)
Thank you for reviewing!
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Chapter 173: The Brier Patch
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It was like falling into a cloud, if the cloud was also a comforting embrace. The Core was cushioning his shock. She was still controlling him, making him thrash, and cry, and struggle. She was having Danny put on a very nice brier patching act.
She wanted Inanna to go this way. She wanted Inanna to go to her.
That meant the Ancients must be on their way. They might even already be there, setting up an ambush. Danny was relieved.
He was relieved, also, that Inanna wouldn't be torturing him to death. Being overwhelmed by the will of the Core, losing his sense of self, and dissolving into his constituent ectoplasm might not be a particularly pleasant way to go, but what was? Besides, he might be able to hang on for longer than he expected. He'd gotten closer to the Core than most ghosts were able to when he was fighting the GIW. His half-human nature gave him an advantage, there.
Even if he didn't, even if that wasn't enough for him to survive, he should look on the bright side. He'd succeeded in delaying Inanna! He'd saved the Infinite Realms from a foreign dictator! Further delay could only help the Ancients, so he should fight as hard as he could.
Maybe Inanna would even get bored with him, and leave him somewhere far enough from the Core that he could fly out. Maybe if he bit her hard enough, she'd drop him.
(He wanted to go home.)
The Core ran what felt like a calming finger down the back of Danny's mind. It could have only been mercy, a kindness, on the Core's part. A hysterical Danny, a truly hysterical Danny, which he was well on his way to becoming, would have helped convince and distract Inanna, without the side effect of distracting the Core as well.
He really hoped he wasn't distracting the Core. He hoped he wasn't wasting her power.
Nonsense.
Ereshkigal's voice was sharp, clear, and clipped. It was also oddly smug. Pleased.
Danny supposed she should be pleased. Everything was going to plan.
They grew closer to the Core, and closer. The air around them was bright and thick with energized ectoplasm. There wasn't a lot of oxygen here. Even taking Inanna's continued grip on his throat into account, Danny was having trouble breathing.
It was strange. He felt so strange. His human mind was running laps in panic, and his ghostly one was icy calm in Ereshkigal's metaphorical hands.
They were getting closer.
(Were they there yet?)
Reality rippled. Pulsed. Green light so bright it was nearly white parted like a curtain.
This... This was an illusion. There was little else it could be.
No, it could be real. It could be a setting, a structure, brought into being by the will of the Core. An ectoplasmic construct, like one of Vlad's swords or hammers, or Danny's shields, but on a grand scale. A lot of the Realms were made mostly of ectoplasm anyway, they just held themselves together. This, the Core had to be holding it together actively, otherwise, the sheer pressure and energy of this place would have blown it apart. Holding it together was a massive feat of power.
It would be easier if it was only in his head, if it was only his mind's way of coping with an unbearable reality, with something he couldn't process. It would be easier if it was an idea the Core had inserted, a way to let him know what was going on, even though he normally wouldn't be able to interpret it.
It was a throne room. More accurately, it was a throne hall. It was long, and straight, with columns on either side. All the stone was white, with shiny black, green, and crystal clear traceries on the walls. They were almost abstract, and Danny longed to turn his head to study them more closely. A long, dark, soft carpet lay on the floor, leading to the dais and throne at the end of the hall. The throne was glassy, clear, and shot through with threads of black and green, and draped with a shroud.
The throne was also occupied.
A woman sat there, one hand resting on the arm of the throne, the other supporting her chin, her legs crossed. She wore a calf-length dress and a long black robe. Her hair was long, straight, and dark. She looked remarkably like Sam.
Danny's vision blurred. No. She looked more like Paulina, or Valerie. The woman blurred again. She looked like Jazz, or his mother. No, she did look like Sam.
Danny would have whimpered, if he had retained any ability to move. As it was, he couldn't even blink.
The woman, she was Ereshkigal, the Core, or at least her representation in this place.
Inanna strode forward, still dragging Danny.
"I have come to you to claim your throne, my sister-queen, by the laws of your own country," she announced, "and by the right of conquest, which is the right of those with strength, and by divine right, which is mine by birth, as I am descendant of An, who encompasses the highest and outermost heaven."
Ereshkigal seemed to consider this for a few moments.
"Tell us then, Inanna, daughter of Nanna and Ningal, tell us, how is it that you claim to come to us by the laws of this land?"
Inanna stopped, only a few steps from the throne, and inhaled deeply, through her nose. Her shoulders were set back proudly, her chin tilted up.
(It occurred to Danny that he was seeing much more of the room than his field of vision would normally allow.)
"It is written that your rulers must do a great service for the land, and so I have, by bringing together all your scattered city-states beneath one flag. It is written that your rulers must gain favor or defeat the most ancient of your inhabitants, and so I have, by going to the deepest dark, and slaying the monsters I found there. It is written that your rulers must come to you, and ascend to the throne by their own power, and so I am here. I say, rise, and remove yourself, for where you sit is my place by all rights and rites. Make yourself at home at my feet, for I now have dominion over you, and you are part and portion of my domain."
Ereshkigal's smile was as bitter as poison. She stood, impossibly graceful.
"Well then, Inanna, granddaughter of Ea, Ninkikurga, Enlil, and Ninlil, great-granddaughter of Enki, come, and take it, if you may." She stepped to the side, her palms out in invitation.
Inanna's smile was victorious. She dropped Danny, carelessly, and quickly went up to the throne. Still smiling, she sank into it, and rubbed her hands on it. Ereshkigal watched dispassionately.
All at once, Inanna's smile fell, and she leaped up from the throne. She spun. "What is this?" she demanded. "By what trickery do you seek to keep me from what is mine?"
"Not by trickery," said Ereshkigal, "by right. You have done us no great service. You think that the poor Realms you despoiled and ravaged are all there are? This dark country is enough to make all the lands beneath your stars seem small. Its precincts are infinite in number, its citizens countable in theory alone. Those places you put under your banner have torn it down, and burned it. And what great service is it that is a disservice to our children?" Ereshkigal gestured to Danny.
Inanna flicked her fingers in dismissal. "All your lands are under my banner now. I have conquered you. It is enough. You need no other service, save to be put in your place. The land serves the ruler."
There was a sound like seven great doors opening and closing, and from between the pillars in the hall stepped seven figures.
Ereshkigal raised up her hands. "And may we present to you, our Anunnaki, our most Ancient of Ancients, this woman who would rule as Queen of All Ghosts. Does she have your approval?"
Clockwork- No, he didn't go by Clockwork in this day and age. He went by his Egyptian name. Heh. Lord Heh. Ancients, Danny had teased him about that, when he found out.
Lord Heh stepped forward, putting himself between Danny and Inanna. Lord Heh was... layered. Superimposed over himself. That was the best way for Danny to put it. One part of him, one layer, was exactly the same as Danny had always known Clockwork. Robe, hood, staff, watches, clocks, blue skin, shifting from age to age. The other layer was darker. More severe. Grimmer. Colder. Blue-gray skin carved with ancient astronomical symbols, a notched reed and ring in his hand. His eyes were black and bottomless.
"She does not have mine," he said. His voice was like the sand that wears away mountains. Infinitely patient, and always victorious in the end.
Nephthys stepped forward. Her clothing was different than it usually was, more Egyptian, to match her name, but, otherwise, she looked the same. Except angrier.
"She does not have mine," said Nephthys. The promise of calamity and cataclysm lurked behind every syllable. Danny reminded himself to use the proper Egyptian version of her name, Nebet-Het, not the Greek one she used in his time. He didn't want the promise in her voice to be turned against him.
The next Ancient glided forward. The edge of his robe whispering against Danny's skin. Danny thought it might be Nocturne, but he wasn't sure. His clothing was dark and full of stars, yes, but it was of a different cut, clinging to his too-lithe form, and another Ancient, who was yet to step forward, wore an open cloak with the same pattern. If it could be called a pattern. Neither of the two wore a mask, though this one had horns.
"She does not have mine," said the Ancient that might one day become Nocturne.
A fourth Ancient, one who clearly would be comfortable in the Burning Lands and the City of Dis, should they exist in this day and age, came forward. Danny smelled smoke when the Ancient moved, and could see his clothes were woven of fire and brass. This would be Nergal, Ancient Master of Fire. He'd gotten himself ended in a dispute between the Burning Lands and the Lands of Ice, if Danny remembered correctly.
"She does not have mine," said Nergal.
The fifth Ancient, the other one who wore stars, did not step forward. He merely appeared in front of the group, not having traveled the intervening distance. It was one of the smoothest, neatest, teleportations Danny had ever seen. So that Ancient had to be Nu, who would come to be called Sojourn. Around the time William the Conqueror was doing all his conquering, Sojourn had laid down the mantle of Ancient in order to travel. Then, some time in the 1300s, he'd disappeared, never to be seen again. The Digressed Tower's properties supposedly were derived from an artifact of Sojourn's.
"She does not," said Nu, with just a little extra flair, "have mine."
The next Ancient came forward. This one was a woman who was, in comparison to Inanna, almost nymph-like, thin, and graceful. Her hair was pulled back in waves, and tied with forget-me-nots and red Lethean blossoms. She held a thin tablet and stylus in her hands, and a roll of paper was pushed through her belt. She looked like she had been taking notes on the proceedings. She could be Nisaba, later called Mnemosyne, Ancient Master of Memory, Accounting, and History. She'd had a lot of other positions besides, including stewardship of the spring of the River Lethe. She'd faded peacefully, leaving her daughter, Memento, behind to pick up most of her tasks, an event that was still talked about in some circles of the Zone.
"She does not have mine," said Nisaba, her voice as dry as paper.
"Nor," said the final ghost, a woman clad in truly impressive-looking armor, "does she have mine."
All the Ancients were now standing between Inanna and Danny. He wondered if that was on purpose, or just a side effect.
"What is the meaning of this?" demanded Inanna. "Who are you, to say whether or not you approve of me? Who are you to judge me?"
"These," said Ereshkigal, "are our Anunnaki, our most Ancient of Ancients, our Masters of Truths Both Hidden and Apparent. These are Heh, Nephthys, Zaqar, Nergal, Nu, Nisaba, and Neith. And you have not faced them. You have not defeated them, for here they stand, to negate you."
"They are defeated by my presence here. I have risen, and they have been unable to stop me. I say, I have completed all rites, and it is so."
"Such hubris! You are here only because I allow it. My beloved Lord Heh, prophecy to this heretic what she might expect."
Clockwork- Lord Heh- nodded gravely. "You will be struck down, and held up as an example of high foolishness. Your country will forget you, until you are remembered only as a myth, your deeds given to your peers, and slaves, and enemies. Here, you will be remembered and reviled, your name a curse. In both countries, your monuments will be desecrated. You shall be struck down. You shall be eaten, your powers consumed from your flesh. Should you go out, it will be as a shadow among the living, a shadow against your past, after the mourning has been done, and your husband has forgotten your embrace. You will die, a mortal, and be dead forever, never to rise as the Dead of this country. This is what you have won for yourself by your actions."
Inanna laughed. "Who shall strike me down? None of your kin have stood against me and survived. You are weak, your flesh unsteady. Do not think that because you have sent a thief to steal my mes that you may stand against me. Stand back, and you may still be forgiven."
Danny didn't see what the Ancients did, but Inanna fell to the floor, and did not move. Ereshkigal stepped over the body, and sat in her throne. She leaned back, comfortably, stretching her fingers.
"Now," she said, "tell us, who does have your approval?"
