“Lady Fae,” the stiffly uniformed and over-medaled Red General Achmed el-Drubal pressed, his narrow eyes intense with greed and desire, “it is common knowledge now of the benefits your Pyramids bring when they go up. The Spirit Seeds, the way the desert blooms as it has not for centuries, save on the shore of the Nile itself!...”
“There are already Pyramids here, General. Their Domains are established, and they will not allow any I make to work,” I answered calmly, unmoved by his pressure, making sure not to betray my absolute loathing of his Scarlet Aura. “The Pyramids I have made are simply to guide and control the spreading effects of the Sahara. They will do nothing to inhibit the active power of Infinite Sands High Emperor, nor the Pyramids that are basically stymieing His advances to the east and north.”
“But-” he began again.
“THINK ON WHAT I JUST SAID.” I glared at him, and he almost bit his tongue at my rebuke.
It was the Blue woman, Nailah el-Sharif, one of the two civilian administrators, who caught it. “The... Pyramids of the Pharaohs are holding back the High Emperor of the Sahara?” she almost gasped.
I turned my gaze on her with the others, who all likewise gasped after they realized it.
“Only technically, but technically is enough. They are protected by a Realm Lord of the Netherworld. You and your people are, after all, their prey, and they cannot have their cattle exterminated or run off. Without them standing in His way, the Sahara would have swept around the Mediterranean and begun its expansion into the lands of Europe already. Your people would have been wiped away like the Black Magic-using ants that you are before the might of Infinite Sands High Emperor.
“Egypt exists because of the Pharaohs and their Pyramids, so your deaths may continue to feed them as you have for nearly four thousand years.”
They stared at me in shock for so blatantly voicing such an observation, but I didn’t have a lot of sympathy for them. The Undead Element was more common among Egyptians than any other population of Humans on the planet, and the other Dark Elements were also as or more common than the world standard.
This was a population deeply steeped in the magic of the Netherworld. From here it had spread throughout Africa, the Middle East, and even into Europe and India.
In reaction to it, the Light had come, and with it another threat from Beyond. Both were now targets of the High Emperors, and the enmity of Infinite Sands were only held back by the Pyramids!
“The influence of the Pharaohs and their servants extend through all the wilds on the eastern edge of the Sahara. It is impossible to build a competing Pyramid here. It will be destroyed by endless armies marching from the Pyramids, an exercise in folly that will do nothing but feed the Pharaohs with more souls.
“I will create no Obelisks or Pyramids here. My ringing of the Sahara has ended where it is now.”
They all sat back with very unsatisfied expressions, but they knew they couldn’t budge me on the matter. “Perhaps some aid, then, against the undead, and their continued attacks?” wheedled the other Red General, the Dry River Sage, Omar el-Fhanef. Less medals, more cunning eyes.
“You have been steadily buying our Vivic Flaming Braziers, and we have not been charging you transport fees. I am aware that you’ve been using them as lures to tempt the Pharaonic forces into traps and ambushes, saving your men time and blood in the fighting. I’m not opening a Spellhouse here for the same reason I’m not in Europe: you will insist on controlling access to it and the revenue it generates, or you will shut it down. I’m not going to invest the time and energy into something you’re going to shut down.”
Their expressions twisted again. Having to send people to the United States or India to get the extra spells was annoying, especially having to pay to reserve their positions, sometimes months in advance even now. But I wasn’t going to make it convenient for them, and I wasn’t going to be introducing new Dark Magic spells.
Funnily enough, the Netherlords hadn’t introduced any new Dark Magicks, either... at least, nothing new outside the bounds of a Dark Compact, which would be unique to that Contract.
General Abdel el-Azzid, the precisely-cut Blue-Red, leaned forward slightly. “I should like to ask you, Lady Fae... are you affiliated with the Undead Hunters?” he asked politely.
Hmm. Well, why not? “I am the Senior Undead Hunter. The Undead Hunters are using the skills I taught them.”
That was not what he was expecting to hear, nor any of them!
The Dry River Sage was quick to leap on that, however. “Their Staves, and the Scepters they wield?” he asked urgently.
“Yes. I designed them. Why? Are you trying to get your hands on another one, after we recovered Shelby’s from your agents?” I asked him with an arched eyebrow.
His mouth flapped in disbelief as the others all looked at him sharply. “I-I was not responsible for that!” he protested, but his voice grew suspiciously squeaky as I stared at him.
“You cannot lie to me successfully, Dry River Sage,” I said calmly, keeping my eyes on him. “Please do not embarrass yourself. We know. We knew you would try, we let you have a day to realize that none of your people could use it or duplicate it, and then we went in and took it back.” I waved my hand absently. “Feathers upon the river.” The iridescent ones on Noble gleamed tellingly.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
He tried hard to contain his expression. Every one of the people involved in that operation had ended up dead, but their notes and communications had survived them. It was just as I had said. “Surely a mere theft did not merit such punishment,” he managed to puff out.
There was a hiss as the temperature in the room dropped two hundred degrees instantly. All the moisture in the air fell as ice as I stared at the Dry River Sage, while all the others in the room urgently circulated their magic so as not to freeze to death.
“Dry River Sage, you have had men killed for bringing you warm water instead of cold, and now you are remonstrating me for slaying members of a band of men who stole an extremely valuable magical tool from an ally of this nation fighting against the Undead assaulting it... who are fighting without pay, no less, effectively stabbing a voluntary and powerful ally in the back.” The glass of the window in the room shattered, too brittle to hold together, and cold air flowed out into the sun in a wave of sparkles and crackles and snow falling.
“It would probably be in your best interests to leave this room before your pride and foolish tongue lead you straight into a grave.”
His dark eyes met mine as his power tried to stave mine off... and he realized he was losing as frost gathered on his skin.
He rose stiffly from his feet and made for the door, not daring to touch it. He merely gestured, and it collapsed into frozen splinters in front of him, shocking the soldiers outside, who immediately recoiled from the chill coming forth with the Sage’s departure.
With a hiss, the temperature rose once again back to a more moderate level at his departure. There was no exercise of power beyond a blink of my eye, but the remaining four of them were still quite shaken by the display.
It had been a terrifyingly fast and effective display of a Domain!
General Achmed started to mention that the Sage would be punished for what he had done. I just glanced at him, and my silver eyes reminded him he could not lie to me. His words were swallowed before they could squeak embarrassingly pass his lips.
“Is there any chance we could purchase some of the special Scepters that they use?” the Brown administrator, Tokin el-Wassar, interjected smoothly, sensing an opportunity. “I assume that was the target of the Sage’s efforts. Everyone has noticed how effective they are against the Undead, and the secret of making them would be quite valuable. If perhaps we could buy them...?” he inquired shamelessly.
“You have neither the resources to make them nor the people to wield them,” I replied to him calmly, and his face fell. “The ones who could wield a Scepter you would not trust enough to give to them, and the ones you would trust to obey you would not be able to wield them. The Sage’s people found that out, as three of them had their hands burned off after they grasped their purloined prize. They are given only to those who will do battle with the Undead, constantly and endlessly. That is their job and their role, and they pursue it with a passion.
“If their wielders’ time to hunt Undead comes to an end, the Scepters will be passed on to their successors.”
“If you are their senior, should you not be joining the battle as well?” the Purple schemer whose name I’d ignored said with what was almost honest puzzlement.
I just lifted an eyebrow. “Exactly what do you think my Pyramids are?” I replied coolly. “I recruited the others to take up the obvious fight. This is not the only Death Zone in the world, merely the most annoying.”
Actually, getting the vivic fires up all over the place was the hugest thing, but that was a matter of time and scale. The Vivic Flaming Braziers here Burned high all the time with the amount of Dark Mana continually pumped into the air by the presence of the Pharaohs’ Pyramids nearby.
The other Undead Hunters were a fine distraction. They knew it, and they laughed about it. With attention focused on them and their flashy Scepters of Disruption slaughtering waves of netherworlders, it let some of the broad, subtle stuff I was doing fly under the radar.
“It is not some excuse? We cannot simply... purchase one of these Scepters for enough money?” General Achmed asked carefully, probing to see if this was simply an argument for further compensation.
I pulled a Scepter out of my Pocket, their eyes snapping to it in greed and desire, and then wincing and looking away. The Light didn’t respond well to those kinds of emotions.
It was actually a Mace, of course, the flanged head of glittering crystal rippling with The Light that was flowing within it. It was laenwork, silicon diamond steel, and unattuned at this time. Although I’d Full-Tempered it, it wasn’t Indestructible, although it was Impervious and so damnably hard to destroy.
It floated there in front of me as they tried to stare at it and failed, having to turn their eyes away at the feeling of faint razors against the back of their eyeballs.
“Any of you are welcome to lose your hand picking this up as an example to the others,” I said calmly. “Among other requirements, such a Scepter cannot be wielded by someone with Dark Magic.”
All of their faces changed, as every single one of them had a Dark Element. One was Undeath, three were Shadow, and one had Poison. The absent Dry River Sage had both Shadow and Curse.
Their fingers twitched, but none of them rose or made a gesture toward it. After about thirty seconds of no movement on their part, I stowed it away again with a flip of my hand.
“Who I recruit into the Undead Hunters is naturally my own business, and rest assured that their number is growing... just not here, where the Infinite Sands High Emperor is being held at bay by the Undead.”
“I have another question for the Lady,” spoke up the mild-voiced, retiring Tokin, his hands flat on the table to keep from grasping at the absent Scepter. “There are tales that you and the Wolverine Hunters of Michigan killed an Undead Honey Badger King in Gabon.”
“That is technically true, although we first had to kill him, THEN he became Undead, and we had to kill him again,” I answered readily, making them all blink.
“Due to the timing... does this have any relationship to the disappearance of one of the Pharaonic Pyramids from the Valley of Kings?” he went on after only a moment of hesitation.
Well, he was astute, at least. “You are aware that the Pharaohs made an abortive attempt to move a Pyramid into China, yes?” I asked them. While it was covered up publicly, that scheme of the Black Curia some time ago was not a state secret kept from them, and they all nodded cautiously. “The weakest of the Pharaohs decided to instead set up shop on the other side of the Sahara, near Gabon. It was the one who infected the Honey Badger King.
“It and its Pyramid will not be returning.”
They all took in sharp breaths at that. “A Pharaoh... is dead?” General Abdel blurted out, unable to contain himself. “That... when the Undead Hunters departed for a few months, is that what that was about?” he pressed quickly.