Fall; or, Dodge in Hell - Neal Stephenson Page 0,403

lapsed for some time as many things were happening all round. Above the glacier opposite, a giant raven could be seen wheeling over the vanguard of the Dug army, showing them the way. The farther they advanced, the broader their front became, as they found that the narrow path had swelled to a broad road. Pluto was healing the cracked glacier beneath their feet, mending the crevasses that since ancient times had always threatened to swallow unwary travelers. Their swiftest scouts were even now reaching the bridgehead. This was developing a green tinge as plants of various kinds erupted from what had long been barren ground. The two sides of the Chasm had extended to where they nearly touched above the center of the gorge. Vines and roots had already reached across the gap.

But El had legions of his own. His angels, long held at bay by the Evertempest, must have issued forth from the Palace at the moment the key had entered the lock and undone the gate of the Fastness. On swift wings they had covered the distance from Pinnacle to Knot as Sophia had expired and Pluto had reshaped the Land and Thingor had begun his works upon the battlements. Now they were beginning to appear, in ones and twos and soon enough in echelons, in the clear sky above. Their bright swords they kept sheathed for now. The only unsheathed weapon in the whole scene was in the hand of winged War, who had emerged from the Fastness after Egdod, and drawn Burr’s angel sword out of the earth where it had stuck. He looked a match for any ten angels. But above were already more than ten, and soon there would be hundreds.

Horns were blowing and hooves beating the earth to the north and west. A battle flag appeared over the crest of a ridge on the other side of the Chasm. Next came a row of lances whose sharp edges gleamed in the light of the sun. It was a regiment of Autochthon cavalry on their mounts, and at its head was a woman whose long yellow hair streamed like a pennant from beneath her bright helm: Sooth of El. They must have been summoned days ago through the weird emanations of the Hive, and ridden to this place.

In this way did the armies of El converge toward the Fastness, and it had to be admitted that in their speed, their number, and their beauty they made the opposition seem feeble and disarrayed. It was only the towering form of Egdod himself, standing upon the stone anvil with the tiny ball of aura cupped in his hand, that could give any hope whatever to those who rejoiced at his return.

The hoofbeats of a solitary mount traversed the Anvil Plain from the direction of the bridge. War flourished his sword in salute and bowed low to Spring as she galloped past him. Egdod gazed down on her approach with a face that showed sorrow and joy. But knowing that the eyes of El and many others were upon him he spoke brusquely, and not to Spring but to Freewander, who was dipping and wheeling about him: “Show her where to form up.”

And so for a time the Anvil Plain was alive with preparations for battle as Freewander led Spring to a position where the advance of the Autochthons could be blocked, or at least slowed, should it come to a clash of arms. The Lightning Bears followed her and the Dug followed them. Behind the old rampart they formed up, facing north toward the bridge. War strode to and fro along their lines mustering them into battle array. The blasts of Pan’s trumpets brought order; the booming of Pan’s war drums made their blood boil.

“None of this matters,” said El. “You can make whatever preparations you please on the ground. The air is filled with my angels.”

Sooth’s cavalry came in force over the bridge to the Anvil Plain. They arrayed themselves facing the Dug. Spring was amusing herself by causing thick sweet grass to grow in the place between, and Sooth’s mounts, seeing and smelling it, were causing no end of trouble for their riders. They must have been galloping for days from Secondel and they must have been ravenous.

“Summon your angels to war then,” said El, and suddenly beat his wings and launched himself into the air. A few angels who had made bold to swoop low got well clear of him. He flew