A Queen's Pride

by N. D. Jones

  “I look in the mirror and no longer recognize myself. When I speak, for a moment, for dizzying, confused seconds, I wonder who gave the visitor leave to speak in my stead. I used to be a normal girl. Now, all I think about, all I read about is divine retribution.”

  Ekon glanced to the book wrapped in Asha’s beach towel. Divine retribution. Only one of their gods dealt in revenge.

  Asha sat up, forcing Ekon to shift from above her. “It’ll be a year next week. My parents’ souls have been restless for a year, and it’s my fault.”

  “It isn’t your fault.”

  “It is. My list is incomplete. I’ve searched. For a year, I’ve searched. I’m close, but I need all ten thousand of them.”

  “Ten thousand of what?” Ekon mirrored Asha’s position, legs crisscrossed.

  She didn’t answer him, but her gaze shifted to her book before casting out to the ocean.

  “Despite how it appears, I do still love you, Ekon. You, Mafdet, Tamani. But most days, it’s more of an intellectual memory than a true feeling. I know I love you because I remember how it felt to have you deep in my heart.” Lifting a hand, she placed it over her heart. “What I feel for you is still in here, but it’s trapped in a castle with no drawbridge but a moat.”

  “What’s in the moat?”

  “Vile images and ideas. My fury and self-doubt. My fear and heartache.”

  Asha spoke of finding peace for her parents’ souls, but it was she who had no peace of mind.

  “If you like, I could help you with your research. Ten thousand of anything is a lot.”

  To his surprise and delight, Asha smiled. “When I was in the warehouse, I thought of your kind heart.” She kissed him, a short peck to his lips. “I never doubted you and Tamani would find me. That knowledge helped me stay strong when, too many times, I wanted to die.”

  “Because they hurt you.”

  She shook her head, curls limp from the humidity. “No, because dying was preferable to living without my parents. I still don’t know how to manage without them in my life.”

  “You’ve been doing it for almost a year.”

  “Poorly.”

  “But you’re still doing it.”

  An eyebrow arched. “Have you always been an optimist? I don’t recall.”

  Ekon thought he detected a hint of humor in her voice, although that could’ve been wishful thinking.

  “Would you like to take a dip?”

  “Umm . . .” Asha glanced at her book again. “I was in the middle of a chapter.”

  “A chapter you’ve probably read a dozen times over.”

  “You couldn’t possibly know that.”

  “That’s a yes.” Ekon jumped to his feet. “It’s hot, but the ocean is cool. Let’s go for a swim.”

  Asha hesitated, and golden-brown eyes stared up at him—contemplating his offer. It was rare for a felidae mated couple to have only one offspring. Ekon had seven siblings. The average number of children for felidae households was five. But alphas often had children later in life, choosing to put the ruling of Shona above that of starting a family. Such was the case with Sekhem Zarina and Khalid Bambara. While one child made for a quaint family of three, the loss of her parents left Asha with few touchstones in her life that could come close to matching the bond she shared with her parents. The bond of siblings could serve such a role. But Asha didn’t have even that to help staunch the bleeding of her parents’ passing.

  With a nod, Asha took Ekon’s offered hand, permitting him to help her to her feet.

  His eyes dropped to Asha’s sexy, skimpy bikini.

  Of course, she noticed.

  “I did ask if you wanted to become my lover.” Two fingers wiggled in front of his face. “Twice.”

  “I know, but you weren’t ready. Not really.”

  “No, I suppose I wasn’t.”

  “Will you ask me again, when you are?”

  “Maybe. Rejection, even for the right reason, hurts.”

  An exploring finger ran the length of the top of his shorts, playing with the smattering of hair on his lower stomach. If she went farther south, she’d find even more hair to wrap around her teasing fingers.

  “I promise, the next time you ask I won’t say no.”

  “Even if I ask now?”

  Ekon slid Asha’s hand from his stomach, up his chest and over his heart. “You said it yourself, you don’t feel much of anything beyond sorrow and rage. When we make love for the first time, you want to be present, in every way possible. I want that too. But it won’t happen until you settle your heart and mind.”

  “Until I find my harmony, you mean.”

  “Yes. When you do, when you’ve reawakened that part of yourself, you’ll come to me for the right reasons.”

  Standing on tiptoe, Asha kissed him.

  Ekon returned the kiss, mindful not to touch her beyond her mouth. His parents raised a gentleman. But even a gentleman could be tempted by a female in a bikini whose kisses were as sweet as ripe berries plucked from a tree.

  “A swim sounds good. The company definitely is.” Asha’s soft fingers laced with his. “I don’t require help with my research but, once my list is complete, there is another way in which you can be of assistance.”

  Ekon didn’t know if he liked the sound of that, but they both knew he would help her no matter what she asked of him.

  Hand in hand, they ran into the water.

  Asha sat on her mother’s office couch across from her glass tabletop desk. As a girl, Asha used to sit in the same spot, reading a book or coloring while her mother worked at her desk. They rarely spoke during those times. Companionable silence, her father would say, his deep voice intrusive, his laughter at their identical frowns all the reaction he wanted before returning to his own office.

  Pulling her feet onto the couch, Asha dropped her forehead to bent knees, and arms wrapped around her legs. She didn’t want to see the image of Zarina hovering beside her desk. Not today. Not when she’d spent an enjoyable hour swimming with Ekon. Neither Ekon’s company nor the swim had been a strong enough distraction to keep Asha’s mind from whirling. But the old normalcy of both had reminded Asha of simpler, happier times.

  For that hour, Asha’s entire world hadn’t revolved around fulfilling her mother’s dying wish. Zarina’s and Bambara’s wandering spirits hadn’t followed her into Tideless Depths. Body submerged in the blue tropical waters of the ocean, the weightlessness had added to her sense of freedom. Under the water, no responsibilities existed, no spirits lurked, and no one noticed if she cried.

  But on land, in her home, in her mother’s office, all she’d ignored while in the ocean’s watery bosom came flooding back the moment she’d stepped foot onto the beach. Sound—invisible footsteps. Smell—rotting flesh. Sight—silent specters.

  Asha dared to peek between her arms and at her mother’s desk. Zarina’s spirit hadn’t moved. Dressed in one of her favorite outfits, a royal blue sleeveless turtleneck design Ankara maxi dress with yellow and black accent shapes, Zarina watched Asha—her expression bland in a way it hadn’t been in life.

  “I’m trying. I know it’s taken a long time, but I am trying.”

  Just once, Asha would like her mother’s spirit to speak to her, even if it were to scold her for her lack of progress. But the spirit only ever stared at Asha with lackluster golden eyes.

  “Tell me what to do. Where to look. I’ve been through all of your books. The ones down here, as well as in your bedroom. I’ve read them from cover to cover. I have pages of notes and names, but not ten thousand.”

  As they’d done in the ocean, tears fell but there was no water to conceal her weakness. Her head dropped to her knees again. She wasn’t worthy of her sekhem name or the title, not if she couldn’t honor her parents by avenging their deaths. Asha could think of no other way to free their spirits so they could move on to the next plane of existence.

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

  “Who are you talking
to?”

  Wiping her face with the back of her hand, Asha looked up to see Mafdet frowning at her from the threshold of the office.

  “What happened? Why are you crying?” With her usual long, confident strides, Mafdet entered the office, a book under her arm.

  “That looks like one of Mom’s books.”

  “You’re drenched, and I can smell the salt of the ocean on you. Why didn’t you shower and change before—”

  Asha leapt from the couch, uncaring. Mafdet was right about her sullying Zarina’s couch with a wet, dirty beach towel wrapped around an equally wet and ocean-soiled body.

  “That’s definitely one of Mom’s books. Why do you have it?” Asha reached for the book, but Mafdet sidestepped her. “Give it to me.”

  “I intend to but not yet.”

  Asha reached for the book again, but Mafdet pushed her hand away. “Give me Mom’s book. It isn’t yours. It shouldn’t be in your possession.”

  “You’re correct, it did belong to Zarina. Like everything else of your parents, this book now belongs to you.”

  “That’s right, now give me the damn book.”

  Mafdet’s face took on that granitelike expression that came over her whenever someone said or did something to anger her. “I know you’re upset and are sekhem, but you’ll never be too old or too powerful to show proper respect.”

  Shame had Asha apologizing but not retreating from her point. “You had no right to remove anything from Mom’s office without asking.”

  Mafdet maneuvered around Asha, careful to keep the book on the opposite side, as if she expected Asha to snatch it from her. Mafdet wasn’t wrong. But she shouldn’t have to take a book by force that belonged to her.

  Glancing from Mafdet to Zarina’s spirit, Asha turned away from them both. She walked to the sliding glass doors, taking in acres of verdant land and a rock-edge gravel path that led from the house to Sekhmet’s ancient temple at the top of the hill. Asha unlocked and opened the doors, letting in the heat and a muggy breeze.

  “Tell me why you have Mom’s book and why you refuse to return it to me.”

  “I haven’t refused. But I want to understand first.”

  Asha stepped onto the path, the gravel sun heated. She couldn’t see the temple from her position but that didn’t stop her from feeling the pull of the statue within. Asha hadn’t been inside since her return home. But she soon would. The anniversary of her parents’ murder neared.

  “Why have you purchased Sanctum Hotel?”

  “How I choose to spend my inheritance doesn’t concern you, especially since you refused to accept a seat on my advisory council.”

  Mafdet’s rejection had hurt her deeply. She still didn’t understand her decision, and she wouldn’t command her to act against her will. So, that had left Asha with two Shieldmanes from her time as hafsa sekhem, neither whom she had officially elevated to the post of Shieldmane to the Sekhem, as Adul and Virith had served Zarina.

  “There are others better suited to serve in that role. You don’t need me to represent the Acinonyx Jubatus.”

  “None I trust as much as I do you. Don’t worry, I won’t ask again. Keep your secrets, Mafdet. I can only assume you don’t trust me with them.”

  That too hurt but being sekhem and Mafdet’s goddaughter did not entitle her to Mafdet’s deepest, darkest secrets.

  Her response of, “Tell me what you intend on doing with the contents of this book,” confirmed her speculation.

  Mafdet didn’t trust Asha the way she had Zarina. With Mafdet and Zarina’s long history that was to be expected. One day soon, they’d need to speak of Mafdet’s role, not as her godmother but as her Shieldmane. Asha wouldn’t hold Mafdet to a promise she’d made to Zarina more than eighteen years ago.

  “What I choose to do with my book isn’t your concern.”

  “Just because your parents are gone, Asha, that doesn’t mean you aren’t accountable to the elders in your life.”

  Asha turned, only to find Mafdet had approached on silent feet. She’d mourned her for two days, along with her parents. Ekon had been correct. Asha hadn’t smiled but cried when she’d realized the woman seated beside her bed wasn’t an illusion.

  “What do you want from me?”

  Not an illusion but a solid presence with her own unreachable castle of pain. “I only want the truth.”

  “I’ve never lied to you. I won’t begin now.”

  “Then tell me your sekhem name.”

  Asha’s eyes dropped to the book under Mafdet’s arm. Dressed in a romper-style one-piece, black workout outfit, Mafdet’s two-toned legs and arms, what humans incorrectly diagnosed as vitiligo, were on full display. The blotches in skin color were normal for felidae who could transmutate into a cheetah. Unlike other felidae, their cat skin also appeared on their human skin. Asha thought it beautiful.

  “Is my name the price of Mom’s book?”

  “You know it isn’t. I also know I can’t keep this book from you any longer or prevent you from doing what you feel you must.”

  Mafdet handed Asha the leather-bound book. Taking the book from her, she pressed it to her chest like the precious gift it was.

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. My instincts are howling to take the book back and lock you in your room until the notion that blood and revenge will heal your heart passes.”

  “I know killing the humans who ruined my life won’t bring Mom and Dad back.”

  “Then why risk what’s in that book?”

  Asha turned away from Mafdet. A chill ran up her spine, Zarina’s spirit having passed through her. Her mother stood on the gravel path in front of Asha. Seconds later, Zarina was joined by Bambara’s spirit. Together, they floated up the path, holding hands the way Asha and Ekon had earlier.

  “There are only two reasons why I would risk calling on the goddess.”

  Asha stepped back into Zarina’s office. Her parents may have gone to the temple, but it wasn’t yet her time to follow them. She closed and locked the sliding glass doors.

  “I know you want to protect me, not out of duty but because of love.” Asha kissed Mafdet’s cheeks. “You are the closest person I have to a parent. I would do almost anything you ask of me. Give you anything within my power to grant you, but not this, Mafdet. My parents’ eternal rest is at stake. I know you can’t see them. Some days, I’m not even sure if their spirits are real or a figment of my imagination. Whatever the case, they’ve been with me a year. Whether my actions will give them peace or only me mine, I must try.”

  Foregoing the couch, Asha sat at her mother’s desk, clicked on the desk lamp, and opened the book to chapter one: Invoking Goddess Sekhmet, One Who Was Before the Gods Were.

  Asha reminded herself to add that name to her list. She began to read, her conversation with Mafdet forgotten.

  “You said there were two reasons you would risk everything for revenge. What’s the second reason?”

  “That’s simple.”

  Asha flipped the page. She’d spent a year reading and researching. It hadn’t been a waste of time. No one book had all the answers she sought. But the book Mafdet had withheld from her might prove to be the final piece of the puzzle. With a quick glance at Mafdet, who hovered by the door again, she thought of phrasing her answer as a proverb but settled on a straightforward response.

  “They deserve to die. Every last one of them.”

  Chapter 12: Awakener

  “Are you sure? Being my Shieldmane and friend doesn’t make you obligated to take this step with me. I’m capable of proceeding alone.”

  Ekon and Asha stood in front of the archway to the Temple of Sekhmet. While Ekon had been to the ancient temple dozens of times, he’d never been there at the cusp of sunrise, the most dangerous time to appear before the goddess. He’d also never gone there with the intent of invoking her spirit. Technically, Asha would do the invoking.

  He held a basket of offerings she’d prepared. When he’d arrived at
her home to escort her to the temple, he’d carried a bottle of red wine, the preferred offering of the temple’s keeper.

  “For what we intend to ask of the goddess, a single offering won’t be adequate,” Asha had told him, looking at the bottle of red wine in his hand.

  Ekon had appreciated her inclusion of him in her phrasing. For too long, Asha had kept everyone outside the proverbial castle she’d mentioned at the beach a few days earlier. He’d read old stories of Sekhmet, like every Shona child. Tales of her bloodlust and vengeance. Her protection of Shona from incursions by humans. While he believed in their gods, Ekon didn’t think it possible to invoke their spirits to do the will of mortals, even the will of a grieving young woman of unshakable faith.

  Asha had handed Ekon a wicker basket, took his other hand with hers, and led him through the house, to her mother’s office and out the sliding glass doors. In silence, they’d walked a gravel path, the sounds of their footsteps swallowed by the fading darkness of the approaching morning.

  “Being here with you is my choice. As your Shieldmane. As your friend. But also as the man who loves you.” Cupping Asha’s jaw, he tilted her head upward and kissed her lips—a slow, gentle kiss of desire but also of eternal devotion. “I’ve come this far, don’t push me away now.”

  “That’s not my intention. I’ve read everything Mom had on Sekhmet and invocations, but I can’t be certain what will happen if I manage to invoke Sekhmet’s spirit. What I do know is that, once invoked, I have from sunrise to sunrise. One day.”

  “What will happen after that?”

  “I must return to the temple by the second sunrise or I forfeit my corporeal form to the war and destruction part of Sekhmet.” Asha’s brows knitted together. “I might have gotten the translation wrong, though.”

  “Asha,” he ground out. “This is too important for you not to know the consequences.”

  “Either my body or my soul. I’m unsure which. The words are the same, but the definition varies depending on the context. Hubax is an ancient Panthera Leo language I read only a little better than I speak it, which is mediocre at best.”