Steph Bennion - Paw-Prints of the Gods

“And the cannon?” Quirinus raised an eyebrow. “Is there some bloodthirsty version of ultra-cricket they play in Beckenham I should be aware of?”

Ravana grinned and picked up the cannon. It felt good in her hands, though part of her was disturbed that the thought of using it against the Dhusarians did not immediately fill her with horror. Her father too looked discomfited by the sight of her wielding the battlefield gun. It occurred to her that if it came to calling someone’s bluff, such a weapon would look a lot more scary in the hands of the burly one-eyed pilot than if carried by herself.

“Shall we swap?” she suggested. “The cartridge only has two shots left, though.”

Quirinus solemnly took the offered weapon and handed back the bat. With the gun on his shoulder he became the quintessential fierce freedom fighter and Ravana found herself looking at her father in a new light. He never talked about his own life during her childhood years on Yuanshi and she wondered whether he had seen action in the civil war.

“Does that take you back, too?” she asked tentatively.

She heard a bleep. Her father glanced at his wristpad and gave a wry grin.

“Momus has finished refuelling the ship,” he said. “It looks like we’re good to go.”

Artorius stared fearfully around the hot, dusty dome and rubbed his tear-stained eyes, his movements hampered by the manacles upon his wrists. Nana and Stripy stood beside him, silent and similarly bound. The nasty military robot before them had kept its plasma rifle trained their way ever since they arrived at the archaeological site. Kedesh was with them and had limped away to lean upon a convenient wheelbarrow, but was not a prisoner like himself and the greys. She had barely said a word since Jizo’s transport docked with their own in the night, nor answered any of his questions about Ravana.

Lilith stood next to the robot, looking to where Jizo crouched and stared into the nearby trench with a touch-screen slate in one hand and a half-empty bottle of wine in the other. Artorius was tired, confused and very scared. Everyone was being horrible to him but at the same time strangely wary, though he did not know why.

There was a large black tent on the far side of the dome, not far from where they had entered through the walkway from Jizo’s transport. Two cloaked figures stood inside the tent, half-hidden in the shadows. The young Arab man, whom Lilith called Dagan, appeared from a tunnel behind and hurried towards the tent. Artorius had heard voices from the neighbouring dome but as yet seen no trace of the archaeologists Ravana had spoken about. As for the dig itself, the dark hole in the pit was lit by a strange flickering green light that made him think of the Tintagel Worm Charmers challenge in Gods of Avalon , where contestants crawled into a subterranean monster’s lair never to be seen again. It was not a nice thought.

The two figures left the tent and with a stilted, inhuman gait came towards them. Both were unnaturally tall and wore grey hooded habits secured with red and silver sashes. Lilith and Jizo turned to greet them, their faces creased with nervous smiles. Kedesh frowned and twitched a hand towards the pistol in her belt.

“This is your big day!” Jizo hissed to Artorius. “The brothers on Ascension now have what the girl stole. Soon you will take your place between worlds and bring forth the truth!”

Lilith frowned. “You seem remarkably informed for a fat stupid nurse.”

“You make it sound like the Oracle at Delphi,” mused Kedesh, eyeing Jizo cautiously. “Is that the boy’s destiny? To sit in a fume-filled temple and spout gibberish?”

“Be quiet!” snapped Jizo. “You’ve delayed us enough already. The plan was to bring him straight to us, not take him on a sight-seeing tour of Falsafah!”

“I had to play the long game with Ravana to find out how much she knew.”

“That damn girl nearly ruined everything,” muttered Lilith. “Where is she now?”

Kedesh glanced at Artorius, then gave Lilith a sly smile.

“Ravana is dead,” she said. Artorius’ eyes went wide. “I killed her. You said the boy was the only one of value for what you have planned here.”

“Ravana is not dead,” mumbled Artorius. “She was to take me home.”

“What home?” spat Jizo. “You’re just a poor, unloved little orphan.”

The two robed figures reached the trench, lowered their hoods and regarded Jizo with a steely glare. Artorius went pale at the sight of their cruel, lizard-like features, so unlike the friendly faces of the greys. He remembered what Ravana had said about them being both alien and human, created by a mad priest for reasons he could not remember. Dagan was at their heels, clutching a couple of large lamps on folded metal tripods.

“Thraak,” Nana murmured sadly. “Thraak thraak.”

“Fwack,” agreed Stripy.

“zz-siileencee-zz!” shrieked the nearest of the lizard men. Startled, Artorius clutched Nana’s arm in alarm. “zz-thee-oold-oonee-dooees-noot-beeliieevee-zz!”

“Brother Cadmus is dead,” Lilith remarked. “Who will guide us now?”

“We have Taranis’ texts,” said Jizo, speaking with uncharacteristic authority. She held up the slate. “The inscription on the archway is that of the prophecy. Our little star man is ready. The archaeologists have opened the chamber and the way is clear.”

“We’re going in there?” Artorius looked at the ragged hole in the excavated archway.

Lilith nudged him towards the ladder into the trench, then motioned for Dagan to remove the greys. The man looked uncomfortable in their presence and flinched when his first attempt to lead them away was met by a rapid staccato of slaps from Stripy. Artorius started sobbing and made a grab for the grey’s hand. Jizo promptly clamped an arm around his neck, dragged him away and dropped him over the edge of the pit. The bottle in her hand caught him across the ribs and he cried out in pain.

“Was there any need for that?” murmured Kedesh, perturbed.

Jizo scowled. “You’ve done your job,” she retorted. “Now let me do mine.”

Artorius glowered from the dust of the trench. He had never liked Jizo. Kedesh was supposed to be his friend, only she had proved not to be trusted just like every other grown-up he had met. Ravana had been nice to him but now she and the greys were gone. He had seen what happened on Gods of Avalon when contestants were split from their team mates and friends. He was frightened, but the grinning sneer of Jizo had awoken something new. Slowly but surely, his fear was hardening into hate.

The Platypus rocketed fast and low across the desert, on a heading that mirrored the sparkling line of silver that now wound through the ancient red dunes. The breached aquifer at Arallu Depot was pouring water down an ancient tributary of the main delta, towards the distant dig. It was the first river to flow across the Arallu Wastes for many millennia.

“So,” said Quirinus cautiously. “What’s so special about this boy we’re to rescue?”

“Artorius? I’m not sure. He’s an annoying little brat at the best of times,” Ravana told him. “It’s cute the way he’s made friends with the greys, though.”

She had taken the co-pilot’s seat, much to the chagrin of Momus, who now found himself relegated to the outer starboard position on the other side of her piloting father. Zotz sat to her left, leaving Fornax and Philyra to make do with the couch inside the carousel, which even when not broken did not spin in atmospheric flight. Ravana’s electric cat, having received a quick recharge after its recent adventures, formed a reassuring lump upon her lap. Her stroking of the pet seemed innocent enough, but Ravana was thinking about what Kedesh had told her about special-forces implants, whilst mentally scrolling through the command functions of her own device. She had once before managed to operate circuitry that did not have a proper implant interface and was looking for a clue on how to do it again.