"Go fuck yourself." Replied the reptilian goddess as she flung her goblet to the throne room floor in disgust, casting blood red wine across the stone surface. The crimson liquid sizzled against the base of my throne, evaporating into steam against the glowing orange shield separating Bob the skull from the rest of the world. He looked up from his work briefly, eye lights flitting from me to the Egyptian Daemon Goddess and back, before going back to his work.
He was smart enough not to get involved in an argument with the furious goddess.
At least one of us was.
It was the answer I'd pretty much expected, but it was not the answer I'd hoped for.
"Ammit, Mab is the one who arranged for this meeting. She might be dealing me on the level but I have to assume that the Tau'ri are setting a trap for me." I grunted as my waist cinched unexpectedly. Amun was checking the clasps on my battle armor, fiddling with some part on my back that wasn't easily in line of sight. He handed me a thick armored gauntlet.
Ammit scowled as I pulled the thick black gauntlet over my hand, willing the crystalline foci in my palm to glow – illuminating the dark metal and stone of my segmented breastplate. I'd made a series of small changes to the armor that had once been Heka's over the past year, shaping it to better fit my own style under Bob's guidance. I hadn't dared make any significant changes to its structure. Neither Bob nor I had a working knowledge that we felt capable of altering the underlying structure of wards. I was pretty sure they operated on a similar principle to my old duster, but the only way I could put my working theory into practice would require that I start with an entirely new set of armor.
That would require Naquadah, the ferrous magically charged metal used as the core of all Goa'uld machinery and magic. And not just Naquadah, a refined grade of it several orders of magnitude more than the weapon's grade material that could power one of the Goa'uld pyramid ships.
So, I could either continue to power my fleet of ships, or I could make a fancy new shirt that may or may not work at all. I wanted to look a bit less hellish to soften the whole "former lackey of Space Satan" reputation I had, but I wasn't fashion conscious enough to sacrifice the war effort against Chronos to achieve it. That might be enough to break the stalemate in Chronos' favor.
I hadn't realized just how far outside of my weight class I had been punching when I started this war. At the height of his power Heka owned a handful of star systems and a meagre fleet of ships. Think the former USSR going toe to toe with Delaware – not a fight you're expecting Delaware to win on its own. Chronos was a major player, and apparently didn't take failure particularly well. The aid of the Fairy Kingdoms had been sufficient to limit Chronos' capacity for success, but every decision I made in this war had the potential to kill millions. So no fancy new armor for sullen wizards.
That didn't mean I didn't get any new toys though. A number of silver rings and jeweled bangles hung from my armor, ensorcelled with protections and tricks that would prove useful. None of them were even half as murderous as Ammit's glare.
"Not if you were planning on giving me your entire kingdom for doing so." Ammit shuddered. "There are too many things on that hell world with long memories and appetites too horrible to speak."
"You're being very dramatic for someone constantly asking me permission to eat people." I replied.
"You're the one always telling me that we're 'better than that' or 'that you'll kill me for suggesting that again.' Don't blame me if your squeamishness is contagious Warden." Ammit shook her head furiously, crossing her talon tipped fingers across the thick jeweled necklace on her chest. It was an elaborate configuration of golden links and small stones sized specifically for her reptilian bulk, a gift I'd provided her to protect her from fairy illusions following a particularly uncomfortable day when Mab had sent Cat Sith as a messenger on her behalf.
She'd spent the next two days jumping at shadows, unwilling to leave the protection of my throne room till I'd finally made the amulet for her out of pity. Sure, she was a giant cannibalistic crocodile, but she was still a girl. I was reasonably certain that she hadn't removed it since.
"We don't have enough people in my kingdom to support a practice of eating people. War has a way of preventing the surplus population." I repeated the old argument for what had to be the millionth time. 'It's wrong' having proven insufficient motivation to prevent the goddess from reverting to old habits, I'd been forced to provide a logical reason to deter her from doing something that would require me to provide an extremely permanent correction for her behavior. I liked Ammit as much as I liked any of the Goa'uld, but I wasn't going to let her prey upon the mortals. "I don't need you to like it, just accept the reality of it."
Ammit growled, a metallic basso that sounded like what might come out of an amp after someone rubbed an electric guitar wire with a razor blade. The discordant frustration might have cowed most men, but I'd spent most of the last year interacting with the goddess. I would not be so easily dissuaded. "Ammit, you've been to the First World. You know how dangerous it is. If I bring a bunch of worshipers and sycophants they're just going to assume that I'm going to be able to just magic away all the danger. That sort of arrogance is going to get me killed."
Ammit looked pointedly to the priestess who, other than a long quarterstaff and a leather backpack, was clad only in the hieroglyphic wards of devotion. "Clearly you've gone out of your way to avoid that."
"The Priestesses tattoos are functional wards." I replied dismissively. "We'd be dumb not to bring her, she increases our chance of survival in the long-term."
"Oh, now you start worrying about your long-term survival." Ammit griped, pinching the bridge of her nose in gesture no other Unas had demonstrated in my presence. I wasn't quite sure if it was an affectation she'd picked up to seem more empathetic to humans or a byproduct of spending so much time with the Jaffa, but One Eye and the other Unas tribes since settled in the desert caves around Nekheb found her body language to be odd. "You start adopting a practical attitude towards your own longevity just in time to drag me to my inevitable demise."
"If it makes you feel any better I plan on bringing Enlil as well." I supplied, scratching at the back of my head.
"Bringing me where?" Queried the smarmy voice of the Babylonian god as he entered the throne room. He was haler than he'd been when first he came to Nekheb. The Mesopotamian deity, like Ammit, had chosen to remain on Nekheb and serve as my underlings. The former head of a Pantheon, Enlil had actually proved himself a surprisingly efficient functionary when it came to facilitate the day to day operations of a galactic empire. The man was pathologically opposed to chaos, and had tossed himself into the minutiae of reconstructing the infrastructure of Nekheb. Judging by the white clay drying on the man's sandals, he had just returned from one of his most recent efforts to oversee the installation of decent plumbing into the slums.
"The Warden wants us to accomplany him on his latest bid for public suicide." Ammit replied.
"Oh, wonderful." Enlil replied in dry exasperation. "How lovely. It's been nearly a year since you've tried to kill us all, I guess we're overdue. What fresh hell has he decided needs to be visited this time? I don't think Lord Yu wants us dead yet but I'm sure if we invade the right things that can be corrected."
"The first world." Ammit replied in spiteful monotone.
"Absolutely not." Enlil replied so immediately and forcefully that there was a brief moment of shock on his face as his mind caught up to his lips to let him know that he'd actually said that aloud. "I mean, I… must question the…. You know what? No – I'm not dancing around this. Warden, are you completely out of your mind? What could possibly be worth this?"
"Someone needs my help." I replied. "Someone I owe the help to."
Ammit's eyes narrowed briefly in recognition. "The Queen?"
"No, someone I owe more than her." I replied honestly. "If I do not save him, it will result in a dire consequence."
Which was technically true, Mab seemed to be under the impression that she'd still end up with a supercharged Wizard in her corner but I was somewhat more skeptical that everything was going to end up turning up Milhouse in the end. I hadn't lied to Mab precisely, but I'd gone out of my way not to mention my half-brother in the questions she'd asked me. I hadn't been able to avoid him entirely, which is how she'd probably known to research him, but I might have glossed over just how many times he'd saved my life. Even if he wasn't my brother, I'd probably need to save him out of sheer self-preservation.
"You owe someone more than what you owe the Queen of Air and Darkness." Enlil let lose a string of profanities as he ground his teeth together. "Whose armies you are currently using to fight your war?"
"I owe the sum of my power to Margaret LeFay," I replied. "So, it is right and proper that I should save her son when given the chance."
"You have fun with that." Ammit snorted. "If I want to commit suicide while you're gone I'll order a squad of Jaffa to shoot me. It's less painful and doesn't require quite as much walking."
"There is the matter of debt." I cut across Ammit's tirade. "And what you owe me. Or did you forget our last trip to the First World?"
Both Ammit and Enlil stopped talking at that. A year prior we had been taken prisoner by the Asgard Thor and forced into surrender to the United States Air Force. I'd been forced to give them a space ship in exchange for safe passage back to Nekheb, which suited me just fine. Theoretically speaking Wizards were supposed to be non-partisan when it came to issues of country and politics – it kept people with centuries old ideas about things like "slavery" or "what people got to eat in your restaurant" from using summoned demons to keep up the status quo. But try as I might, I was a capital "A" American and giving "big honking space guns" to the old US of A was ok in my book.
While Thor had been checking the ship for traps I might have, sort have, totally outright stated that all the Goa'uld who'd used my magic to help me escape "owed me" the sort of very real magical debt that Mab had over me. The Fae could buy and sell obligation the way some people sold stock. Given how little every one of them seemed to understand the Fae, and how I was on speaking terms with the Queen of Air and freaking Darkness – they'd accepted my bluff at face value.
If it even was a bluff any more – Hell's Bells, I probably could actually buy and sell debt given my new status. Not that I would, Ammit was a bloodthirsty lunatic and Enlil was a scheming little maggot, but nobody deserved to have Mab holding their leash.
I certainly wasn't going to allow either one of them to realize that, however. Ammit and Enlil were dangerous in their own right, conniving and vicious gods who'd willingly been part of Sokar's pantheon. I trusted them to operate within the limits I'd given them, provided that I was able to remain and supervise their actions. In my absence, however, I feared that one or both of them would try to secure some measure of power. Hell, if I died, I would essentially be handing the two of them Nekheb on a silver platter. The magical runes ensuring my Jaffa's total loyalty were entirely contingent on my continued survival. When I eventually passed on, the bindings would die with me and anyone with a remote understanding of a Sanctum Invocation would be able to topple everything I'd helped build.
Leaving them behind without supervision? Not an option.
"You owe me. Both of you." I infused the words with an effort of will, making the smoldering orange glow that filled the star flecked black pits of my eye sockets burn with even more light than usual. "So either help me or I will sell your debt to Mab and I will pay her to make you help me."
Ammit snarled in a tone that reflected Enlil's new string of ancient Babylonian profanity, before she raked her claws against the table with her left hand. Her talons slashed deep into the green-black stone, sending a shower of sparks across the table. "You bastard. You absolute and utter bastard."
"Yeah, here's the thing. We don't really have a lot of time to discuss this." I replied, deciding to put the nail in the coffin on this deal. "The Summer Queen dispatched a strike force to come to Nekheb and kill me and I don't know quite how much time we're going to have before she gets here."
I gestured with my thumb to Bob on the throne. "I've got someone running interference to at least slow down the incoming storm, but Summer's heavy hitters are incoming ASAP. She apparently negotiated safe passage to here with Winter, but I'm sure you'd be able to kill at least a couple of them before they realized that I'm not on the planet. It's not like you have enemies in Summer's inner circle of assassins."
I didn't even realize that reptiles could go pale. Ammit clenched and unclenched her taloned fists several times, visibly expending effort not to go into another bout of rage.
Enlil, however, just flopped down into one of the chairs around the stone table. His face was a mix of horror and fascination as he spoke. "You actually did it, didn't you? That madness you've been spouting about killing the Summer Lady and knowing the future. You sent someone to kill the Summer Lady so that it would be true? I just thought that was some ridiculous bravado that the two of you cooked up to make an alliance you'd already agreed upon seem plausible."
"I will be responsible for her death. Yes." I replied, there was no need to belabor the fact. "Mab has informed her. She will be coming to take her vengeance upon me and mine. It would be prudent to be elsewhere."
"Only you, Warden." Ammit ran a claw over her necklace. "Only you could need to go to the First World in search of safety."
She shook her head in disgust. "Blood of Apep, very well. We're coming."
"We're what?" Enlil groaned, pulling at the thickly braided beard he was sporting. He worriedly ran his fingers about the blue, turquoise beads someone had woven into the braids. His voice was disgusted, but I knew the man well enough to realize there was no real fight in it.
"We're coming. The last time the Warden started spouting something half this insane we ended up mutilating the King of Dragons and using the Asgard as a chauffeur. His brand of crazy has worked for me this far, I might as well see where it leads this time." She rolled her neck, wetly cracking the thick saurian vertebrae as she cocked from side to side. "What's the plan?"
That was a more nebulous problem. Beyond a gate address and the vague goal of not dying horrifically, I honestly had no idea how to go about even finding my brother – let alone saving him. Assuming that the Tau'ri didn't kill us on sight, I wasn't entirely certain what Thomas had been doing before he'd entered my life. I had a rough idea, given that he was a White Court Vampire, an Incubus. It was a life of intrigue and shadows, constantly acting through cat's paws in hope of securing a more stable power base and more interesting sources from which to feed.
I hadn't asked many questions about what it was like to live in the White Court. I hadn't really wanted to know the specifics. I hadn't wanted his past to color the image of my brother in my mild. 'Damn it Harry,' I thought to myself, 'You could at least have found out what City he was living in.' I could probably use the silver pentacle amulet around my neck to point me in the right direction, but short of circumnavigating the globe as the crow flies it wasn't an overly practical method.
I could probably negotiate with the US government in exchange for them helping me track down where he was. I had more than enough resources to trade to make it worth their while. Unfortunately, there would be no way for me to accomplish that without tossing up major red flags. They would continue to monitor my brother after I left, meaning that in saving him today I might well be unleashing the mortal world upon the supernatural one. It was already going to be a risky proposition just talking them into allowing me freedom of movement. The Goa'uld had a well-deserved reputation for being a compendium of cock-weasels, "hey, can I just go searching through Chicago without anyone monitoring me," didn't strike me as a particularly appealing sell.
It would likely have the Colonel pulling his best Ammit impression.
And, once all was said and done, it still wouldn't be over. I was going to have to offer Titania something valuable enough to get her to stop trying to kill me for murdering her daughter. Even if I managed to survive a week and get back to Nekheb, I would be trapped on that planet forever unless I found a way to appease the Summer Queen's wrath. I just needed something of equal value to the life of one of the of the Immortal Queens of Fairy.
No pressure.
Sometimes being a Wizard just kind of sucks. I put on my most wizardly grin, and waggled my eyebrows. "What's the plan? We go in, we save the target, we stay alive for a week, and when we get back, we kick Chronos' ass up into his eyeballs."
Ammit rolled her eyes in a practically Murphy-esque display of sass. "Screw it. We've done more with less."