The Barbarian King

Chapter 43

is a fractal. The way man approaches his quest for knowledge is a fractal. Think of it: biology, the study of living things. A simple concept.”

A straight line appeared on the floor.

“As man accumulates knowledge, the volume of information becomes too much. He feels the need to subdivide it.”

The line split into three branches marked with labels: zoology, botany, anatomy, then split again. Botany grew horticulture, forestry, plant morphology, plant systematics. Zoology splintered into zoological morphology and systematics, then into comparative anatomy, systematics, animal physiology, behavioral ecology…It kept building and building, splitting, growing, branching, too fast, too much, overwhelming…

“Make it stop.” I didn’t even realize I said it, until I heard my mouth produce the words.

The line disappeared.

“And that’s the crux of our problem,” Anapa said, his voice contemplative. “Man can’t handle the chaos. Oh, you can understand it in abstract, as long as you don’t think about it too hard. But at the core of it, whenever humans come against chaos, they deal with it in one of three ways. They hide from it, pretending it isn’t there. They dress it up in pretty clothes. The God of the Hebrews is a fractal. He can do anything, he knows everything, he is infinite in his power and complexity. He is a fractal, so humanity felt the need to compartmentalize him. They don’t tackle the concept head-on. They tiptoe around it by telling little fables and anecdotes about their deity, and then when push came to shove, they invented a new aspect of him, his son, who comes with a more narrow, definitive message of infinite love.”

Anapa fell silent.

“You said there were three ways,” Raphael said.

“I did, didn’t I? Faced with chaos you will either ignore it, dance around it, or you will go mad. Apep is chaos. He is a primal expression of a fundamental principle, a fractal, a force rather than a deity. The priests of Egypt worshipped against him just to keep him at bay.”

“How do you worship against something?” Raphael asked.

“Let me tell you: once a year they got together, made a fake Apep, threw a big party, and burned him with great ceremony. There are actual rules for how to properly defile him. First, we spit on Apep. Then we stomp on him with our left foot. Then we use a lance to stab Apep, and so on. Do you see how they attempted to impose order upon chaos through a complex ritual?”

Anapa leaned forward. “If let loose, Apep will drive humanity insane. You will devolve into primeval barbarism where nothing exists except his worship in its most rudimentary form. You will abandon reason and logic and feed yourselves to him by the thousands like the idiots you are.”

The shadow outline of a jackal’s head flared around Anapa’s head. His dark lips trembled, betraying a glimpse of his fangs. “So you see, I have a vested interest in this venture. In the presence of Apep, no other god can exist. I want to prevent his resurrection, and if he manages to resurrect, I have to murder him again. And the three of you will help me.”

Silence descended. My mind struggled to get a grip. Too much information to process. “If Apep is so terrible, why do they want to resurrect him?”

“Because they are outcasts,” Anapa said. “They are unlike others. They grow snake fangs in their mouths, they have jaws that open too wide, and they know that others are repulsed by it. They seek to belong. They want to know where they came from and they want to take pride in who they are. They probably think Apep will protect them and he will. It’s just the rest of humanity that will be on his menu.”

“I want the staff,” Meldrin said suddenly.

“Mmm?” Anapa looked at him.

“I want the staff,” the black volhv repeated. “If I do this, you will not harm me and will give me the Bone Staff to take back to my people.”

“Fine.” Anapa waved his hand.

I stared at Meldrin. “What are you doing?”

“I’m imposing order on a fractal,” Meldrin said. “If I define the terms of the bargain, he’s bound by them. He can’t do anything else to me.”

Anapa leaned back and laughed.

Raphael stepped forward. His face was grim and I saw determination in the set of his jaw. Uh-oh.

“You have a problem with me over the knife. Why didn’t you just ask for the knife?” Raphael said.

“Because the less you knew about this mess, the better,” Anapa said. “Given half a chance, humans will screw things up, as the three of you have so deftly proven.”

“So you deliberately kept me in the dark, and now you want to blame me for my ignorance? That isn’t fair.”

Anapa’s gaze fixed on him. “I am a god. I don’t do fair.”

Raphael met it. “You have a problem with me, fine. Leave her out of this. She didn’t do anything to you.”

“No,” Anapa said.

Oh, Raphael. Why would you think I would stand for that?

“If you want my help, let her off the hook.” Raphael growled.

Anapa shook his head. “No.”

“Why?”

The ghostly jackal head appeared around Anubis. “Who are you to question me?”

Raphael’s lips trembled, betraying a flash of his teeth. “She goes free with no obligation to participate in your scheme. That’s my price.”

“Rejected.”

They stared at each other. Muscles tensed on Raphael’s frame. I smelled a brawl.

A third of me wanted to rip Raphael’s head off for the insult. I was perfectly capable of holding my own. I didn’t need his help to extricate me, nor did I need his grand sacrifice. Another third was all bursting at the seams with happiness: when facing a god, his first thought wasn’t about saving himself but about keeping me safe. He was willing to fight a god of chaos to keep me out of this mess. The final third of me just howled in blind terror, terrified for my safety, and even more terrified for the i***t bouda who was trying to buy my life with his.

And that was my relationship with Raphael in a nutshell: too complicated.If I didn’t do something, the fool would throw himself away. In my head I saw Raphael buried under a pile of snakes. It was like a dagger straight in the heart.

..

No. No-no-no. Not happening.

I cleared my throat. “Girls, girls, you’re both lovely. I appreciate the sentiment, I do. But I will make my own decisions and the two of you will kindly get the hell out of my way.”

Raphael looked like he wanted to bite something. A self-satisfied smirk played on Anapa’s lips. I didn’t like it. Not one little bit.

“Counteroffer,” I said. “You take me, let Raphael go.” No need for both of us to get killed.

-- .. --

“Denied,” the god said. “This is getting tiresome.”

Arghhh. “What is it you want from us, exactly?”

“The priests have my fang, the staff, and the descendants of the Saii. They lack the scale. It was made into a shield. I need you to get it before the priests do.”

“Why don’t you just get it yourself?” Raphael asked.

“Because I am a god. I don’t run my own errands.”

“Did you know he’s a god?” Raphael asked me.

“I had no idea. He hasn’t mentioned it,” I said.

“So modest and unassuming,” Raphael said.

“I will kill you both and make pretty rugs out of your pelts,” Anapa said. “Stop being tiresome and get the scale for me.”

Simple enough. “Where is it?”

“Ask your friend,” Anapa said. “Ask the Beast Lord’s Consort.”

“Simi?” How the hell was Simi involved in this?

“Yes. Tell her to bring another deer. She will know.”

“I’m not going to move a finger unless you give me clear and simple instructions without mystical bullshit.”

“That’s not my way,” Anapa said. “You will take your instructions in whatever form I choose.”

“Then I’m out.” Chew on that, why don’t you.

“Is that your final word?” Anapa said.

“Yes.”

“Fine. We’ll do it the hard way.”

A girl walked out of the back room. She couldn’t have been more than seven or eight. She moved slowly, as if unsure where her feet were. Her eyes, dark and opened wide, were blank. Her dark skin had an ashen tint.

I tensed. Next to me Raphael bent his knees slightly, preparing for a leap.

“This is Brandy.”

Brandy looked at us with her empty eyes.

“Brandy is a shapeshifter like you. From Clan Jackal. The jackals and I share a certain bond.” Anapa studied his nails, looking bored. “I plucked her out at random. Her parents are frantically looking for her by now, I’d imagine. Why don’t you tell them how you feel, Brandy?”

The child opened her mouth. “Help,” a weak tiny voice said. “Help…me.”

I yanked the bow off my shoulder and aimed an arrow at Anapa’s left eye. Raphael exploded in a riot of fur and muscle, snarling as the monster that was a bouda in a warrior form spilled into existence.

“Let the child go.” I sank the promise of death into my voice.

“Every day you do not do as you are told, I’ll take another Jackal child at sunset,” Anapa said. “If the lion gets involved, the children die. If any of your other Pack friends help you fight, the children die.”

I fired. My arrow pierced the wood of the chair a fraction of a second before Raphael’s claws scoured it. The child and the god were gone.

CHAPTER 13

The office phone was dead.

Meldrin took off “to gather supplies.”

Anapa said the shapeshifters couldn’t help us fight. He said nothing about us telling the Pack what was going on. The Jackals had to be warned. I shifted shape, and Raphael and I ran into the night.

We cut through the decrepit industrial district, moving at the shapeshifter equivalent of a canter. Ruins streamed by us, dark, inky black, like haunted wrecks of ancient ships. Gutted warehouses with steel beams thrusting out, vehicle shells, treacherous caves of concrete hiding hungry things with glowing eyes, born of magic and hungry for a burst of hot blood on their tongues. The beasts looked but didn’t venture close. They recognized us for what we were—predators, built to hunt, kill, and devour—and right now neither of us was in the mood to be merciful.

The city ended and we ran along the crumbling highway. Here nature revolted, fueled by magic, and trees had grown with shocking speed, crowding the old road. We kept going, tireless, eating the miles like they were delicious bites. Wolves didn’t have a monopoly on marathon chases. We were hyenas. We could run forever.

Raphael moved next to me, so graceful, so lethal, full of fierce beauty. It felt so right, running like this, guarding each other’s flank. Together we were a tiny pack…a mated couple. Should any threat cross our path, we’d rip into it together. I had forgotten what it felt like.

The road brought us to a group of three oaks. Here a narrow trail branched from the main highway, barely wide enough for a single vehicle to pass. Blink and you would miss it. We turned onto it in unison.