Gods and Queens

Chapter Thirty-One

His claws were like swords—long silver talons curved at the tips. At the moment, they were extended, poised to strike and heading towards Quatesh like speeding glistening hooks.

Shift. Stop playing around!

Quatesh snorted at Anubis's words before morphing into his serpentine form in a puff of white smoke. He immediately curled himself like a helix and shot through the air a good half mile away from the raging kite.

I didn't know you cared so much, Anubis. Quatesh smugly replied through the channel.

The channel was a necessary evil he had to live with. Knowing Ra, he could summon his allies in a second and if he had no one at his side he might as well kiss his new status goodbye.

Believe me, you have no clue about what I care for, the embalmment god shot back with a huff. Just do what you must. I am sick and tired of your theatrics.

Quatesh frowned at Anubis' statement. He was beginning to wonder who was in charge. Maybe he would have to challenge the jackal soon. There was no way in hell he would let himself be bullied once more. That time of his existence was over.

He hissed in pain when claws unexpectedly sunk into his trunk. Wiggling like a worm, Quatesh twisted his enormous frame just in time to see Ra's beak descend on him with fury. He tore through his skin mercilessly and pulled hard. Quatesh hissed again and writhed, attempting to slow Ra's flight. The god's wings beat the spiritual air steadily as he pulled him farther from the ground. Anubis was correct, he got caught up in his theatrics, and he was right where Ra wanted him.

Shutting out the pain, Quatesh coiled his tail around one of the sun god's wings and squeezed. Ra flapped both wings powerfully causing his hold to slip, but Quatesh refused to give up, even with the furious god's black flame scorching him.

The more Ra tore at his flesh, the more Quatesh went for his wings, focusing all his might and attention on breaking them. He curled his fat tail around it once more and put enough pressure in his vice-like grip, clutching like his existence depended on the single action.

When Quatesh heard Ra's wing snap, he revelled in his loud call of pain. Using the opportunity to struggle from his loose grip, Quatesh allowed his body to drop to the ground with a loud thump. Curling his trunk in a flash, he took in his wounds with sharp steady eyes. Ra had torn up his flesh pretty badly. Black blood flowed freely from open grey wounds and he wasn't healing as fast as he liked.

He looked back up just in time to see the still furious god land. The black flames around him burned with intensity but his broken wing twitched slightly, hinting at the fact that it was healing. Ra's calculated gaze took him in as he paced, pausing once in a while to release harsh calls that made the spiritual air quiver.

"I guess it's time," Quatesh mumbled.

Shutting his eyes, he allowed himself to take in a single calming breath before mentally reaching down to his core. The power worship gave still throbbed in him, like a poisonous delight ready to go wild with destruction. He knew the very moment he gave in to it the power would be more in control—overriding his judgement and simply going out to destroy whatever stood in its path. Ra had little or no power left, no one had been worshipping him recently and he was banking on that single weakness to bring him down.

He could hear Ra still flapping his one good wing and making harsh calls, but he refused to open his eyes. He felt the power rise swiftly, almost as if it had been waiting to be summoned. As it consumed him, Quatesh's common sense and control slipped away. No matter how hard he tried to hold on, it escaped his grip and let another take over.