by Jamie Hawke
When the doors burst open, a man and woman rushed in with pistols drawn. The woman, who I assumed must be Morigana, wore a scarf over her head, her clothes bright and flashy. The man had a darker, more thuggish look about him and looked too young to be Ali Baba so I figured it must be his son. Hekate flung out her hands and the shots that came from those pistols went flying left into the hallway walls, and then Sharon was pouncing, engaging the man and knocking his pistol to the ground. Red went for the woman in a flash, cloak blocking my view for a moment, but I was still busy fighting the suit of armor anyway.
When Pucky joined me, I managed to step back and catch my breath, and saw that Morgiana was actually holding her own against Red. The man, however, was having a harder time with Sharon, who was half-wolf at that point.
Pucky backed the armor into a corner and fired a point-blank blast from her rifle. The shot dented part of the armor to the extent that anyone in there would’ve been dead.
But it still kept fighting.
“He’s not in there,” Pucky said as she stepped back, parrying a blow with her rifle.
At first I didn’t register what she’d said, but then I noticed a movement in the reflection from a nearby mirror—not movement of a person, but of a shadow. I spun and grabbed a lamp, lifting it to lug it in the direction of the shadow, when a voice shouted, “No, not the lamp!”
Everyone froze, staring at the spot as a hat was lifted and placed on an invisible head.
“Who are you?” the voice demanded.
“Myths,” Elisa replied, standing with hands at the ready. “And you must be Ali Baba himself?”
There was a brief silence, and then he said, “Ah, yes. I nodded, forgot that I was invisible. You’re here to steal from me, but you claim you’re Myths. Explain yourselves.”
“Don’t bother, father,” the man in the hallway said, at that moment pinned to the floor by Sharon in wolf form. “Last I checked, this is the Big Bad Wolf, and she’s no Myth.”
“She is now,” I said, and when they all turned to me, a gasp came from the direction of Ali Baba. A glance down and I saw that my sword was shining as if in response to their challenge of our Myth status.
“That… the sword… Excalibur?”
I held it high. “It is.”
“And how did you come about it? More importantly… would you be willing to make a trade? Anything but the scepter.”
“None of your business, and no.”
“Then we have nothing to discuss.”
“You’re invisible,” Elisa said, stepping forward now and lowering her hands. “I’m going to make the assumption that it was done via a curse. Maybe some item you have here?”
Silence.
“What if I told you we could break your curse?” Elisa went on. “Would that be worth the scepter to you?”
“You… can do this?” The hope in his voice gave him away.
“Do we have a deal?” She thrust out her hand toward the hat, and a second later the hat was next to her, her hand moving up and down.
“You break this curse, and as much as I hate to part with such a valuable item… it’s yours.”
“This will hurt,” Elisa said, and motioned to me. “Sorry, but we’ll be needing that shirt.”
I handed it over, figuring this was a worthy cause. She told him to put it on, after warning him that it would hurt, but he still screamed in agony as he tried.
Morgiana threw Red aside and took a step forward, about to attack.
“Morgiana, no,” Ali Baba said, and he was starting to become visible. This man was weathered, and I imagined he’d seen better days. Still, when he turned to the mirror and laughed, touching his face to be sure it was really him, he seemed ecstatic to be actually visible, in any form whatever. “They did it, they really did it.”
“And you’ll hold up your end of the bargain?” I asked him.
“He has no choice,” Elisa replied.
“She’s right.” Ali Baba glanced at Red, frowning. “Though I’d like my knife back. I’ll never understand why you took it.”
“Long story,” Red replied, hand still on the blade. “And… no. It wasn’t part of the deal.”
Morgiana growled, all glares. “Maybe I take it from her?”
Ali Baba held up a hand and she backed down. The man at her side was staring at Ali Baba, however, and suddenly ran forward, throwing his arms around the older man.
“Father,” he cried.
Ali Baba held him close, eyes glistening, and then didn’t even look at us as he took a ring from his left hand, turned the stone in it so that lines on the stone matched the lines on the silver. It instantly lit up, matching a pattern on the wall. Ali Baba turned slowly toward it and said in a loud, clear voice, “Open sesame.”
The wall slid apart, revealing what appeared to be his most valued possessions, including the scepter—gold, one end expanding out almost like a shovel, and engraved with Egyptian hieroglyphs.
“I take no part in this war,” Ali Baba said. “Still, I hope you will remember my contribution here today, for my heart is connected with each piece in my inner chamber.”
“Father,” his son said, but Ali Baba unclasped him, entered the room, and reached for the scepter. When he returned, he handed it to Elisa, bowed, and then cringed slightly as his hand pulled away.
“He doesn’t mean literally, does he?” I asked Hekate, referring to the part about his heart being connected to the scepter.
She gave me an uncertain glance. “It wouldn’t be the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”
I’d read Harry Potter too many times to not be very intrigued by this, but when the man turned and told us to go, I realized we weren’t going to get answers here today. We had what we’d come for, and now it was time to find this Sekhmet lioness lady, or goddess… or whatever she was.
“Thank you,” Elisa said, and she held out the scepter for Hekate. “Thirty minutes or so again?”
Hekate placed a hand on the scepter and instantly shook, her eyes going wide and her face starting to contort into the shape of a lioness. With a flash of purple and black, she was back, shaking as she said, “No, she’s calling for it. This will be instant, if you’re ready.”
“We are.”
We all stepped up, ready, and the portal opened.
Morgiana stared after us with interest, but the last image they saw of us was Red giving her the finger.
34
I rubbed my eyes, trying to see if I was blind or something was covering them, but then fire burst into life, and we could see again. Torches lined the walls of old, tanned stone. An eerie breeze blew past and shadows darted across the floor, some reaching to Sharon and me, pulling at the wolf within. I felt it, and could see the fur growing on her, the wild returning to her eyes.
We’d hoped it was gone with Pan, but apparently we weren’t so lucky.
“Where are we?” I asked, glancing over to Hekate.
“My guess, somewhere in Egypt,” the witch replied.
We braced for impact, not sure what was coming.
“If she can help us out, she was a famous Tempest,” Elisa said, looking hopeful. “Maybe she can show you a thing or two.”
“Not likely,” Red countered. “I think I know exactly where we are, and why she’s not going to be on friendly terms.”
“Go on,” Elisa said.
At first I thought that we were in an enclosed room but then I noticed that Red was busy looking into one of the corners and when I focused on it I could see that it wasn’t enclosed at all, that in fact there were exit points. Red gestured for us to follow, and indeed, even the torches were blowing in that direction as if telling us which way to go.
“There’s a legend,” Red said, voice hushed, “based in part on truth. Which parts of the tale are true and which parts are fabricated, I couldn’t tell you, but Ra is supposed to have sent Sekhmet to deal with his enemies and she did, but then she couldn’t stop. The shadow got her, bloodlust taking over. When
they finally caught up with her there were piles and piles of bodies. The legend says Ra poured ten thousand jars of alcohol on her to get her drunk so that she’d stop, though that part would likely be an exaggeration—”
“You think?” Pucky scoffed, but backed off at a look from Red.
“Whatever the case, she was passed out for three days, woken by Ptah—god of creation and fertility at the time—and they fell in love.”
“I’m still not making the connection to this place,” Sharon admitted.
“This is where the two settled down?” Pucky asked. “Decided they didn’t want any more to do with all that?”
“Ptah,” Hekate said, shaking her head as she walked next to me. Suddenly she stopped, gasping. “He went dark—I knew him before… Oh, shit.”
“What?” I asked.
“She’s the one who killed him, isn’t she? Her lover.”
Red stopped, looked back, and nodded slowly. “Except she didn’t exactly kill him. When he went dark, she took him down, trapping his ichor, his soul—in a tomb. I believe we’re in that tomb.”
“She never left,” I said, thinking at once how creepy and how romantic that was.
“She never left,” a voice echoed, but it wasn’t my own.
We all spun around, searching for the source of that voice. To my horror, everything flashed dark and then was back, but with the walls having moved. Pucky held up her rifle and charged it so that the glow was bright, and Elisa sent out a wave of swan-shaped light that went through the wall in front of us.
“Fakes,” she said. “Illusions. Follow me.”
I shared a nervous glance with Hekate, as the last thing I wanted to do was walk through walls and not be able to see where I was going. And sure enough, as soon as we stepped through it wasn’t at all like the Platform in the Harry Potter movies, but pure darkness and more flashes—only now it was spiraling purple and I could hear a strange whispering in an alien language.
Cold wind blew from our right and a hand on my midsection guided me along. Presumably Pucky, as she’d taken the position directly in front of me. But as we walked my mind filled with doubts, imagining a creature long dead with slimy skin and eyeballs falling out of their sockets.
When the light flashed a moment later, that’s exactly what I found—and even felt it clinging to me.
“Shit,” Pucky said, only the voice came from the ghoul, and then it was her and the image was gone again, replaced by a glow from her horns and her rifle as darkness otherwise returned.
“Just as I thought,” Elisa’s voice said from not so far off, though it started to get distant, echoing. “Not illusions so much as playing on our fears.”
“So we… ignore everything that happens that could be something we’re afraid of?” I asked.
“Try, and my powers can help counter this.”
Something moved by my leg, brushing against it so that I nearly jumped. Dammit, my mind instantly went to slithering, monstrous snakes. We kept on, Sharon’s hand on my shoulder gripping me tight and breathing quick breaths as she faced her own fears, I imagined.
“Stay with us,” Red said. “Whatever they’re throwing our way… fuck ‘em.”
“Elegantly put,” Elisa said with a chuckle.
Hearing laughter in a place like this put a smile on my face, the juxtaposition of it with my fear, the sudden switch in emotions, caught me off guard and I was suddenly laughing. I felt crazed, like there was no reason to laugh, yet I couldn’t stop.
Then Pucky was laughing too, and it seemed about to catch on when a hissing filled the relative darkness and a shape darted across our path, barely visible in the faint glow.
Elisa sent a burst of light after it, and then it turned, leaping at us and exploding in a flurry of bats and spiders. But we were already past being scared of this place. Elisa’s swans emerged, charging forward as Pucky unleashed blasts with her rifle. Red’s cloak fluttered out behind her and she darted over to my side as if I needed protection, but Sharon and I stood firm, watching as the barrage vanished.
When the shots and swans faded, so did the darkness.
Only, I was alone. There was an oasis and I found myself standing beside a pond, the ghost of a breeze sending ripples across the surface of the water, and gently blowing through the nearby palms. No sign of the others, no sign of a pyramid or tomb or whatever we’d been inside.
The water rippled again, this time starting to lift. It was cascading off of a head, then a body, as a woman emerged. She stepped toward me, black hair clinging to her dark skin, eyes pure black and skin covered with tattoos but otherwise bare. Her dark nipples stood erect, water trickling down and catching the sun like diamonds as the drops fell back to the water, passing her perfectly curved hips on their way. When she took her next step, the water fell away to give a view of neatly trimmed hair, then her thighs, so smooth and glistening as the water gave way.
She didn’t stop walking once she’d exited the water, but came up to me and wrapped one arm around my neck. She was cold—unnaturally so, but my body craved her, begging me to give in to the desires of the flesh.
“You’ve traveled far to find me,” she said, her other hand moving along my chest, up to run a finger along my lips, and then pulling me in for a kiss.
I resisted, putting my hand between us. Sharp pain hit me like a scalding iron and I pulled back to see her tongue darting out like a snake as she stepped back, hands out to her sides and what I now saw to be claws at the ready.
“Pick your next move wisely, or I’ll see that it’s your last.” She blinked and it was like thin layers of membrane covering her eyes.
“You’re not Sekhmet,” I said, eyeing her.
“That little imp?” The woman let out an evil cackle, then charged me.
I stepped back to block her stroke, my foot sinking into the sand. With a roll I was free, moving as her foot came at me and left a line of black smoke in its wake. When she came at me again, her nude form had a much less tempting appearance as the tattoos lit up and fire burst from her in all directions.
My first thought was the water, so I threw myself back. If the fire hit me, the water could put it out. Except, I realized as I dodged another strike and spun to see large, feathered wings sprout from her back, she’d come from the water. Would my falling in there mean death? Maybe that was her goal, or maybe there’d be more of her within.
I searched for Excalibur to strike back, but the sword was gone! Of course, this was all an illusion, anyway, wasn’t it? So it made sense that I’d be unarmed. At least she’d left me clothed.
She had taken to the sky, circling me and shouting how I’d made a mistake, how she was going to tear me limb from limb. But as I searched for a way out—only sand in all directions beyond the palms of the oasis, something caught my eye in the water nearby. I dodged one of her diving strikes and, as she was flying back up to come in for another attack, I leaned out over the water.
Looking out from its depths, deep within and almost invisible, was Pucky. She could’ve merely been the dark bottom of the water, except for the glow of her horns. Her hand was reaching out to me, the glow reflecting on the sides of her fingers, and I knew what I had to do.
I reached, ready to take her hand. Only, as our fingers seemed about to touch, the reflection of my attacker showed and she was on me, claws digging into my flesh and wings flapping as she pulled me away, cursing and then shouting in an ancient language. Her full body was against me then and I was being pulled up and away from the water. Contact with her seemed to burn in the way prolonged contact with ice does.
“You’re in my head,” I said, imagining any power that worked this way was similar to the way fighting darkness worked. As I focused on the joy my ladies brought me and my dedication to my role of being the Protector, I added, “I won’t allow it.”
And then it was like the water was alive, rising to meet me as I reached for it, and I managed to twist and struggle, breaking the woman’s grasp so that I fell and
was engulfed in those waters. Pucky was there, grabbing hold of my hand, and pulling me out and free from whatever insanity that place was.
I stumbled, realizing I was standing, and saw that the others were all staring at me with worry, the darkness gone.
“Is he back?” Elisa asked.
Pucky held my hand to hers, kissed it, and nodded as I said, “Yes.”
“You scared us there,” Red chimed in. “Eyes going all black, talking in an ancient tongue.”
I sighed, shaking my head to try and clear it of images of that woman, and then caught sight of her—not her, exactly, but a carving on a pillar. We were in a room with tall pillars, with images of skeleton warriors and the like.
A cat was looking at us with a slight, purple glow. Before I could point it out or ask if the others had noticed, two blades appeared in thin air in the center of the room. They burst into flames, held by the form of a woman—not the one from my vision—who leaped onto a ledge in front of us. No, not a ledge I saw, but a large sarcophagus.
“You can’t have him,” she hissed, lifting the blades in a defensive stance. Only then did I see that while her body was certainly that of a woman, her face was that of a lion. There was no doubt we were facing Sekhmet.
“We’re not here fo—” Hekate started, but Sekhmet roared and the shadows tore through the chamber, cutting her off and bringing me to my knees.
My head throbbed and my muscles were taut, veins bulging and fur sprouting.
“He calls upon you for help,” Sekhmet said, and pointed one of her fiery blades my way. “Your true self will be revealed this night.”
I let out a growl while my body transformed, my blade cluttering to the ground, and nearby Sharon was transforming too, while Hekate rose into the air, darkness enveloping her in a spiraling embrace.
“Fight it!” Elisa shouted, but her voice sounded distant, as if through water.
In an explosion of power that sent us off balance, Hekate threw herself at the sarcophagus, thrusting out with her hands so that the top budged slightly. Sharon was at her side a split-second later, in full werewolf form now and fighting, pushing Sekhmet back.