The Vessel of Ra

by Catherine Schaff-Stump

“What if you have to destroy your sister to capture Ra?” Isis pressed her hands together. “Could you kill her?”

  “I would. It couldn’t be helped.” She turned to the old man. “I have questions for you, Paolo Borgia. When Octavia and Khun were joined, the thread was red. I know silver means a demon and a Binder are Bound, and an onyx thread means Demon Bound. I know a translucent tie means Banishment. Red?”

  “What do you think?” said Paolo.

  “Khun has never been Bound to my sister and she has not been Demon Bound to him. Red, Isis?”

  “Passion. Octavia’s temptation. All Binders have their weaknesses.”

  Lucy nodded. “I used to believe there was good in everyone, even Ra.”

  Paolo Borgia shifted. “Now?”

  “Not now. There is no good in you, Mr. Borgia. Octavia and Khun, are they lovers?” The word came easily to her. Lovers. No embarrassment.

  “How would I know?” Isis rolled her eyes. “Why would I care?”

  “Yes, it was always a possible outcome,” said Thoth.

  “It would not be the first or the last time a demon and a human loved each other,” said Isis.

  “Do you and Mr. Borgia love each other?” Lucy asked.

  Isis laughed. “An experiment is not a relationship, Lucia.”

  Lucy considered. “Octavia has exercised poor judgment in allowing Khun to do as he likes. We might be safer without Octavia.”

  “That is a possibility,” said Paolo.

  “What happened to Khun after Ra possessed Octavia?” Lucy glanced at Thoth. “What do you think?”

  “There are many possible answers to your question. I could hazard some guesses. Based on no prognostication, I would suggest he has been discarded, like you have. We do not die. We return here.”

  “Mr. Borgia, what happened to Drusus and Carlo?”

  “I believe they are safe.”

  “You don’t know,” said Lucy.

  “I hope for the best.”

  “So far,” said Lucia, “I have found death to be nothing but illuminating. What I know about you is you don’t care about anyone’s fate but your own.”

  Paolo’s smile disappeared. “You know nothing.”

  “I will find them.” Lucy stretched an arm. It grew like a vine, bone like thorns, skin like bark. Before, this blood magic and body shaping had seemed grotesque. She had no concerns about restricting her powers in this new body. “I am remade in my mother’s image.”

  “We remember your mother and honor her,” said Thoth, “and your father.”

  “My father wanted Ra to kill me.”

  “Your real father.”

  “Enough,” said Isis. “You were right, Thoth. Lucia does not know how much Paolo has cost her. She needs to rest or we might undo what we have done.” Isis kissed her on the forehead, the patchouli smell inviting. “Lucia, you were meant for grander things than your sister. You are meant to contain Ra, and you will.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Octavia and Ra flew over the Derbyshire countryside and landed at the bottom of the peak into which Mistraldol, the ancestral Klaereon home, was built. On her way home the fine people of Hathersage had noticed her glowing figure overhead, but Hathersage had been trained to leave the Klaereon family alone. No matter what happened today, and Octavia imagined today would be talked about for some time, Hathersage would have more reason to fear the people in the big house.

  Through Ra’s eyes, Octavia’s world was painted in different colors. The moors were an ugly scrub when she had left, but now there were subtle gradations of brown, rough vegetation, jagged stone, clumps of dirt, and leftover bits of summer green. The peak was a cross between a mountain and a hill. Many tourists and nature lovers came through the town, but they stayed away from Mistraldol. Since Mrs. Klaereon died, rumor in the town had it the Klaereons used ghostly servants or were served by the dead. Rumor was wrong, but not by much. The dutiful shadows of Mistraldol attended to the domestic needs of Caius Klaereon and his family. It was all one and the same to Hathersage, peculiar goings-on to stay away from.

  The manor was covered with magical sigils. Stone obelisks rose from the roof, as did sculptures shaped like ankhs and scarabs. The gardens on the upper levels were filled with sundials, statues, and gargoyles. Great walls preceded the giant entry doors at the bottom of the peak, which opened onto a main hall of polished marble and ornate stained glass windows outlined in lead, colored light streaming through. The entry hall was the sanctum of a church. Elizabeth the first had awarded the manor to the Klaereon family for services rendered, and various ancestors had altered the structure. Today, what interested Octavia and Ra the most was the metaphysical part of the house.

  The levels underneath Mistraldol existed in magical realms. The house was filled with living shadows, which Binders used to do their raw magic. Uncle Bartholomew had brewed elixirs in a laboratory. Ceremonial chambers furthered the family’s understanding of demonology, and vaults guarded the family’s treasures, including the Scroll of Solomon.

  Octavia knew the Erasmus story by tedious rote. Erasmus Klaereon, who had served as a magician in the armies of Julius Caesar, left the army to study at the library in Alexandria. Sorcerers knew of a scroll hidden in the desert, which controlled legions of demons. The scroll was too powerful for Rome, for the Ptolemys, for any would-be ruler, and much too powerful in the hands of the magical families scattered all about the globe. One day Erasmus set out to destroy it. How naive of him, Octavia thought, to understand nothing about the mythology surrounding Solomon’s Scroll. How egotistical to decide he was the man to save an unworthy world from itself.

  Thanks to Erasmus, the Klaereon family became intertwined with Solomon’s exiles in the Abyss, both banished demons and Binders doomed to replay Erasmus’ battle with Nuit. Caius Klaereon, Octavia’s father, together with his demon Neith, protected the Solomon Scroll.

  Octavia climbed the stairs circling the peak to the garden on top hewn from the rock which wrapped around the house. Lesser demons attached themselves to Binders like personal shadows, which was appropriate, since the Binders never seemed to see light. The children of Nuit chose a Klaereon at birth and the strongest sorcerer of each generation would emerge to use the scroll’s secrets. That Binder had the gift of being able to summon the demons of the Abyss in times of great need, a temporary dark army to destroy the family’s enemies. Erasmus was right in his way. Using the scroll could change the world.

  The flaw in the agreement was people’s morality varied, even among honorable Erasmus’ family, especially among his demon-tainted progeny. All the Klaereons had not been or would not be honorable. Octavia considered her more notorious ancestors. Publius Klaereon had loved Aurelia Galt and they used the scroll for their own gain. Their love plunged Europe into what was called the Dark Ages. Mistraldol had been the reward for Leonides and Leto Klaereon reclaiming the scroll.

  Caius Klaereon had Bound Neith the archer. Rather than summon Neith to carry out magical tasks like most Binders who had demons, Neith was always at Mistraldol, guarding the scroll with her arrows, ordered to shoot anyone but Caius and Octavia, his chosen heir, should they approach the scroll.

  Good Klaereons, bad Klaereons, a wheel that kept spinning and stopping on random chance, until the wheel had stopped with Octavia in this place, this time. She and Ra betrayed Lucy, but Octavia knew where the blame for all this tragedy truly belonged.

  Caius waited for her, sitting in the garden in a long coat and a straw hat. A slight paunch concealed by a broad waistcoat was witness to good living. What hair he had left was pulled back from his head into a black ponytail. Caius wore a white wig for formal occasions, making him a true albino, or Hamlet’s ghostly father.

  “Welcome home,” he said. Octavia saw him note her glowing skin, the Egyptian way in which Ra chose to clothe her, in a sheath fashioned from sunlight, shimmering like the scales of a diamond fish. “It seems traveling has improved you.”

  Octavia’s golden
glow intensified. Caius shielded his eyes with long hands. Octavia’s voice echoed with the overlay of Ra’s, which startled her. She hadn’t noticed she was speaking with two voices. “I have come home, Father.”

  “You have made a trade.” Caius walked around her. “Where is Khun?”

  Khun is no longer a factor.

  Ra’s voice dismissed him, made him a footnote. Octavia was ashamed her eyes brimmed with tears. “Khun was unimportant to me. You know he was weak.”

  “He chose you. There is no possibility you could be Ra’s.” Caius rubbed his chin. “Unless you never Bound Khun and he never Bound you.” Caius’ forehead wrinkled. “Octavia, what have you done?”

  “The past doesn’t matter. Ra and I are your heirs.”

  Caius tapped the walking stick he carried against the shin of his good leg. “Where is your sister?”

  “She won’t be coming back,” said Octavia, her stomach souring as she thought of blood and bits of flesh.

  “You killed her.”

  “Don’t pretend you are disappointed.”

  Caius’ face was noncommittal. “Oh no. It was your path. She had to lose her Trial for you to take your place. I had thought you and Khun, not this.”

  “All my life, you have told me Lucy was weak.”

  “She was weak. She was deformed.”

  “You never gave her the knowledge to win. You kept it from her.”

  “I did. For you. Do you think I would have allowed her to inherit Solomon’s Scroll? She was an embarrassment to our family.”

  Ask him what happened to Bartholomew.

  “Ra wants to know what happened to Uncle Bartholomew. I want to know what happened to Mother. You told Lucy she died from fever, but I remember something else.”

  Caius leaned in and kissed Octavia’s cheek. She couldn’t feel the brush of his lips. “I want you to be strong. Our family needs to be strong. My daughter, my real daughter, she takes what she deserves. You stole Ra from the twisted little cripple.”

  “I didn’t steal Ra,” said Octavia. “Ra and I saw a mutually beneficial opportunity. You sent Mother to the Abyss, didn’t you? I saw it. I heard it. I closed my eyes and I heard teeth tearing into her flesh, crunching her bones. I couldn’t shut out the noise, just like you and Ra and everyone, always pulling, always talking to me. Now I have Ra’s voice, and you are silent. I know what to do. I know how wrong you were, how you hurt Lucy.”

  Caius spoke as he thought. “You… never bound Khun. The voices still bother you?”

  “Ra has cured me. Why didn’t you help me, Father? Why didn’t you make the voices stop?”

  “The angel should have cured you, but you did not complete your Trial.”

  “You sent Mother to the Abyss. How did you kill Uncle Bartholomew?”

  “Was what you did to Lucy more or less humane?”

  Ra’s laugh was hollow. Tell him, as humane as his own murders.

  Octavia wiped a stray tear away with her thumb. “I take after my father.”

  Caius embraced her. “Here we are. Bound or not, you have made a fortunate alliance. We shall have a funeral for Lucy. I have a place prepared for her in the mausoleum, given how I expected the Trial to turn out.”

  Make him give us the scroll. Ra’s voice nagged at the back of her mind.

  Octavia ignored him. “Father,” she said, “I’ve decided we must end our alliance with the Claudians.”

  Caius smiled, but it was beginning to look like a mask. “Have you done anything that renders your marriage impractical? You haven’t killed Drusus?”

  Octavia hesitated, collecting her thoughts. “We can’t stay married. I don’t love him. He doesn’t love me.”

  “Love is not the most important force in a good alliance. Your mother and I managed in spite of hating each other. We had you.”

  Understanding dawned. “But not Lucy. Lucy is not your daughter.”

  “We will not talk about Lucy.”

  Drusus sees our whole family as vile and wants nothing to do with us.”

  “Have you bedded him?”

  “Father!”

  “I see.” Caius circled her. “So your relationship works.”

  “I will not continue with him.”

  “You will,” said Caius. “The contract between the Claudians and the Klaereons is sacrosanct. Break it and there will be consequences.”

  Octavia’s seized him about the collar and backed him toward a sundial. He dropped his cane and it clattered on the hard ground. Her voice merged with Ra’s. “I am Ra’s now. Ra is mine. I do not need Drusus or Khun or you. We are done with your secrets, old man. You are no longer in charge. We will take the scroll. You will stay out of our way.”

  Cauis tried to push her off, but Ra had given her extra strength. “You no more command Ra than Lucy did. You are Demon Bound, my girl, and what’s worse, since this isn’t your demon, it will leave your body a burned-out husk. Ra will find a new host.”

  “I am in control,” Octavia said. “I am a Binder.”

  Caius’ laugh mocked her. “I had such hopes for you, but you understand nothing. You have lost the demon who chose you and now you are lost.”

  “We want the scroll!”

  “You will let me go this instant!”

  “You will give me the scroll!”

  “Even if I still wanted to, I couldn’t. Don’t you understand? I can help you if you let me.”

  “Father?” Octavia’s face softened. “You know I want to please you. I’ve always wanted to give you what you wanted. You told me to kill Lucy to gain Ra.”

  “Your childhood fantasy. I agreed with whatever would lead you to get rid of your sister. Let me guide you in this. We’ll find some way for you to keep Ra without him killing you. Neith!” Caius shouted. “You are needed here.”

  A bright square unfolded itself into a woman of gazelle-like grace, her black hair tied away from her face. On her back over a cotton shift was a quiver of long arrows, wriggling with live shadow tips. She nocked one to a skinny bow and aimed at Octavia.

  “I see you there, Ra,” said Neith. “I know what you want with Solomon’s Scroll.”

  “I will control the scroll!” Octavia shouted.

  “You dare threaten my master?” Neith scowled. “You cannot touch the scroll, human. You are Ra’s slave.”

  “I am no one’s slave!” Light burst from Octavia like the sun as her anger boiled.

  “I will destroy you.”

  “No, Neith. Hold her, do not kill her.”

  Octavia’s nails scraped Caius across the face. She faced Neith, leaving Caius leaning on the sundial. Octavia clenched her fist and a lotus bud appeared under Neith’s feet. As Octavia opened her hand, the petals drifted apart, and when she snapped her hand shut, the lotus ensnared Neith tight in its petals. Small rays of light and darkness drifted into the fragrant air. The lotus began to shrink until it crushed Neith from existence.

  Caius sliced the air with his hands. Shadows pushed Octavia back into the garden wall. She pushed away, strength and power galloping in her blood.

  See how invincible we are? We do not need your father. Kill the old man.

  Octavia lashed a dark rope at her father. Caius plucked the middle section from the rope, shaping it into a spear. Ra’s light flashed it into nothing. Octavia wrapped another tendril around Caius’ leg, and a bone snapped. He collapsed to the ground. “Neith!” he shouted.

  “Who is the weak one? Who is the strong one?” Octavia stalked toward her father like a cat hunting a bird. “Why don’t you use the scroll? Summon all the demons?”

  Rip out his tongue. He cannot call her again if you rip out his tongue. He cannot reach the scroll. Do not give him the chance to get it.

  “I will not rip out his tongue,” said Octavia. “Father, my demon wants me to do things to you to show you how powerful we are, to humble you and teach you arrogance is a crime. I agree with him. I want to make you pay for what you did to me, to Lucy.”

  “
Your pity for your sister is touching, considering you killed her.”

  Octavia stepped away. He was right. She had.

  No, that was Ra. Ra killed her. She had, however, watched, and did not intervene.

  “You made all this possible. You killed her. You killed me. You took our mother.”

  Kill him. Kill him.

  “No,” said Octavia. “Not yet. He needs to suffer. Then we will have the scroll.”

  Red lightning scorched the ground and a red-skinned giant she had seen once before appeared in front of her, a being of fire and smoke making all the shadows scatter before it. Thunder followed his appearance, like the rapport of cannon shot. There were two smaller people on the ground below the peak, one leaning on the other, but her eyes were dazzled from the lightning, so shapes were all she could see.

  “Ra,” pronounced Balthazar, as loud as the thunder announced his coming, “you have violated and murdered your mistress with whom you had entered into a lawful contract. Octavia Klaereon, you are no longer a Binder, no longer protected by the demon who claimed you. I will protect my master’s scroll, and I will return Ra to the Abyss.”

  In the pleasant English afternoon, Carlo didn’t know whether he should sweat or freeze. He had waited all night for Balthazar to reappear from the temple with Drusus, who could walk, but did not seem to see or hear. Carlo insisted on examining Drusus. He appeared whole, if not responsive. Balthazar wanted to leave them in the desert, but Carlo knew they needed to return home―to somebody’s home, anyway.

  “If you insist on accompanying me, you will see justice dispensed.” A sheet of sand flowed like a backward waterfall, flowing upward between them. “You will watch the patient. I will be otherwise engaged.” Balthazar directed Drusus into Carlo’s care. The sand intensified, and when it cleared, they had arrived.

  All this dimension hopping was disorienting for Carlo. He missed his ordinary life in Venice. Had he been hungry for something to happen? If this was a magician’s life, no wonder his grandfather was slanted sideways in his sanity.

  Balthazar postured above them, not the tower of supernatural magic Carlo had seen at Erasmus’ Temple, but what looked as close as the efrit came to flesh and blood. He didn’t envy Octavia. She would learn what Balthazar was capable of.