The Emerald Tablet (Fated Destruction Book 3)

by D. S. Murphy

  “Let’s look around,” Jessie said. “This place is huge.”

  I nodded, and we split up to explore, tracing the labyrinthine passages through the ruins. I followed a path leading up higher into Gebel al-Mawta, which a sign ominously translated as Mountain of the Dead. It was a honeycomb of tombs dating from the Greek and Roman era, spotted with holes and tunnels like an anthill.

  I turned a corner, then another, and found myself alone in a small courtyard. Movement startled me, but it was just a peacock, pecking at something against the wall with its elegant blue neck. I stepped towards it, and it fanned out a thick array of bright blue tail feathers. They stretched out several feet in either direction, watching me with a hundred eyes and blocking my path. I looked past the bird to see what it had been so focused on, and noticed a small opening that almost looked like the top of an ancient doorway. My eyes widened when I noticed the sand was slowly pouring down inside the hole. A secret entrance.

  “Thank you,” I said to the bird.

  “You’re welcome” a voice said behind me.

  ***

  I whirled around, but I couldn’t process what I was seeing. Behind me, in this abandoned settlement of dusty bricks and crumbling ruins, was a glamorous woman who looked like she just stepped out of a bridal magazine. She was wearing an exquisite white wedding dress, with a long flowing train. The high waist and low neckline were decorated with silver filigree, that continued in nearly transparent sleeves falling midway down her wrists. Her hair was done up in a fancy bun, and she was wearing a tall golden crown. Her delicate, soft features were marred only by the hard set of her dark eyebrows, the subtle frown on her lips, and the glitter of dark shards stitched into her dress like plated armor.

  “I think it’s time we had a little chat,” she said. Out of nowhere, a table and chairs appeared, filled with grapes, pomegranate, and a bottle of chilled champagne on ice. She filled two crystal flutes and lifted her gossamer veil to drink from hers. Her thin wrists made her look frail, but I kept my eyes on the long, pointed scepter she held loosely in one hand.

  “About what?” I asked, without moving. I looked around for an exit, but the entrance I’d come in through had disappeared, replaced by four identical walls on stone. I was trapped.

  “My husband,” the woman said. “I know how charming he can be, trust me, I get it. It’s natural to be attracted to him.”

  “Hera,” I said slowly, with dawning comprehension. “Wait, you think me and Zeus—”

  “I just thought you should know, these little flings are common for him. They don’t mean anything.”

  I started to laugh, but the chuckle died in my throat as Hera’s features hardened into something much more terrifying. I wondered how much she knew about me, or my power.

  “You don’t have to worry,” I said, holding up my palms. “Zeus doesn’t even want me, not like that. He’s trying to kill me.”

  “Smiting and sex have a lot in common,” she smiled, tearing into a pomegranate with her bare hands, and letting the red juice drip down her pale fingertips. “It’s a relationship, a contest of wills. He wants to dominate you, every part of you. It makes him feel powerful. Everyone resists at first,” she said, chewing on the fruit. The dark juice left red stains on her lips as she spat out the seeds. “But he gets what he wants. Honestly, I don’t see how you caught his interest. He usually goes for the pretty types.”

  “I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” I said, slowly reaching a hand into my bag. “I’m nobody. I don’t have a problem with you.”

  “And I have no problems with you, except you seem to be taking up an unusual amount of my husband’s time and energy. So I wanted to come see what all the fuss is about. I’ll admit, I don’t see anything at all remarkable about you.”

  I tried to look as unremarkable as possible, as I searched again for an escape. I thought about calling for help, but what could the others do against Hera? After all the terrible stories I’d heard, I knew we didn’t stand a chance in a fight, at least not without the shears. She seemed pleased by my silence, and relaxed into her chair.

  “Do you know how Zeus and I first started dating?” she said, changing the subject. “He courted me for hundreds of years. He’d had other women of course, I knew his reputation. Unlike those other sluts, I refused him. But he was persistent. One day, he appeared as a sparrow with a broken wing, shivering outside my window in the rain. I couldn’t resist taking the poor thing in, and nursing the creature back to health against my breast. Zeus transformed into his true form and ravished me. After it was done, of course we had to get married.”

  “He raped you,” I said, horrified.

  “Well, maybe at first. I was just a girl, I didn’t know what it meant. Not until later. Now, I make myself available to him.”

  “That’s disgusting,” I said, before I could stop myself.

  Hera stood up suddenly, closing the gap between us in an instant. I stumbled backward as she towered over me.

  “Watch it, girl. The Greeks were worshipping me before there were any temples to Zeus. I was always more powerful, I still am.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “Seriously, that stuff is between you and your husband. But honestly, it has nothing to do with me. I promise, I’ll stay as far away from him as possible.”

  “One human lover, I can overlook,” she said, sinking back into the chair. “We’ve weathered worse. You have no idea the bond we have, my husband and I. You’ll be gone in a few decades, but we’ll still be together a thousand years from now. However, there is one other thing. I’m the goddess of childbirth. Mothers pray to me, they always have. It’s kind of my thing. Suddenly, I’m getting more prayers than ever before, but I can’t grant any of them. No new children. No new births. That, my dear, is not going to work for me.”

  “Wait, you’re blaming me for what happened to the Fates? Zeus killed them, not me.”

  “Boys will be boys,” she said. “From what I hear, you opened the door.”

  “But not on purpose! Zeus is the one destroying all magic.”

  “I don’t let myself get involved in politics,” Hera said, waving her hand. “I’m a housewife, not a general.” I noticed what looked like a fresh manicure as she finished her champagne glass.

  “All I know is, everything was working perfectly until you showed up. Now the Fates are dead, and nobody’s having babies. Fix it, and I may not kill your friends.”

  “But I don’t even know how to do that!”

  “Then maybe you need a little motivation. I never really liked Athena anyway, so I don’t mind that she’s dead. However, since I’m here, I think I’ll kill that creepy leech who’s always following you around. And maybe Able’s lapdog as well. Otherwise Zeus might ask about this little errand, and I’d rather keep the girl stuff between us.”

  “Don’t you dare,” I said, reaching into my bag. Hera stood up and raised her scepter, which started glowing with brilliant white light. I heard Sitri shouting my name somewhere nearby, and she turned towards him with a cruel smirk. Before I knew what I was doing, I shoved my hand into the black iron glove and grabbed Hera’s thread. It was easy to see, burning brightly above her head. For a second, she faltered, but then her eyes lit up with rage and she spun towards me.

  “Stupid mortal,” she said, clenching her fists. “You dare touch my essence with your filthy human hands?” She let out a breath of pure fire, heating the air between us. The thread turned red like glowing embers. I tried to let go, but my fingers were stuck.

  I watched in horror as Heph’s iron glove turned red hot, burning into my skin with searing pain. I screamed, and Hera smacked me with her scepter. I went flying backwards into the stone wall, and my vision blurred.

  “I can see that you might be a problem, after all. I think it’s better for both of us if you stay here and rot, like your Egyptian sorceress.”

  Hera planted the scepter in the dirt with such force that the ground trembled, toppling walls and stones. T
he sand gave way as the ruins crumbled down into the dark pits below, and the world disappeared as the ground swallowed me up, buried alive beneath the mountain of the dead.

  16

  I tumbled down into the darkness, riding a waterfall of rubble and sand. When the movement finally stopped, my head was spinning and for a minute I didn’t know which way was up. I spat sand out of my mouth and gasped for breath, wincing in pain. My head throbbed where Hera had struck me, and I felt blood slowly drip down my cheek. My arm felt like it was on fire. The metal glove was stuck to melted flesh, like they’d fused together. I pulled it up to look, but it was so dark I could only see the outline of my arm. I shook my legs loose from the debris, then stood up and brushed myself off. My movements echoed, and when my eyes adjusted I could see I was in a vast hallway, with long columns of painted pillars, half filled with dirt and chunks of stone. Far above, I could see a small hole where I’d broken through. I was lucky to have only slid down in a river of sand, rather than dropping straight in – I wouldn’t have survived the fall.

  The air felt cooler, and in the dim light, now that my eyes had adjusted, I could see further ahead. Unlike the dusty ruins above, this looked like a time-capsule, a mausoleum. There was no way to climb up, but I heard the sound of water and followed it across the large room. When I stepped off the pile of sand, my feet hit smooth marble tiles with intricate designs in white and blue. The walls were covered with art and hieroglyphs; a slight sparkle in some areas told me they’d once been embellished with gold plating. I ducked through a narrow doorway on the far end of the room, into a smaller chamber. On the edges of the room were tables with bundles that looked like bowling pins wrapped in paper. But when I looked closer, I could see that the tops were painted with whiskers and pointy ears. Great, cat mummies.

  Near the center of the room, another large box had a picture of a scarab on it. I shivered, I didn’t even want to see what was inside. I passed through an old archway and found myself in a large cave, facing an underground lake of clear, teal water. A small fountain gurgled from the mouth of a giant face carved into the bedrock. I plunged my grilled arm into the cool water, and felt relief wash over me. In the quiet, I heard Jessie calling my name, but she sounded far away.

  “I’m down here!” I yelled back, unsure if she could hear me. I traced my steps back to wide entrance chamber; it was lighter than before, and I noticed the hole had gotten bigger. I could see the silhouette of Sitri’s head, peering inside, and I waved up at him.

  “You okay?” he shouted.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Get down here, you have to see this.”

  I explored the room again, and with the increased light, this time I noticed a narrow passage; it was barely a crack in the wall, splintering off at an angle. I squeezed through until I found another small chamber. The doorway was framed by golden statues nearly as large as I was. I wondered if it was solid gold. Inside the room was another sarcophagus, but this one was carved in rose quartz, and didn’t have a lid. Inside was another gold statue – or, I realized, a person. It was shaped like a casket, carved in wood and painted with gold leaf. The burial mask was perfectly preserved. I wondered what was inside; another leech, or something worse?

  My foot struck something metallic, and I looked down to see stacks of treasure; gold statues, coins and jewelry. There was more of it piled against the wall and overflowing from narrow benches around the room. I heard voices, and turned back to greet the others. They’d found some rope and lowered it down. Sitri climbed down first, followed by Jessie, then Puriel.

  “Wow,” Jessie said, looking around.

  “Yeah,” Sitri said. “Wonders of Egypt, and all that.”

  “This way,” I said, “I found something.”

  I showed them the other room and the coffin. Sitri held up a penlight and shone it on the detailed hieroglyphs and paintings that covered the walls and ceilings.

  “What’s it say?” I asked Sitri.

  “It’s a curse, right?” Jessie asked. “Everyone knows, when you disturb a mummy or take their treasure, you get cursed.”

  “She won’t hurt us,” I said, looking again at the painted face on the carved coffin. Wide eyes were framed by straight dark hair.

  “My Egyptian’s pretty rusty,” Sitri said. “I mean, it’s been awhile. Something about, Queen of Egypt, the breath of life, the everlasting waters?”

  “There’s an underground lake nearby, maybe those are the waters?”

  “And the breath of life?” Sitri asked.

  “Maybe she needs CPR,” Jessie said.

  “It’s probably another leech,” I said. “Maybe it will suck the life out of you.”

  “Wait, I think it says the kiss of life,” Sitri said.

  “Seriously?” Jessie asked, “Like sleeping beauty? That’s a bit cliché don’t you think?”

  Sitri shrugged, then leaned over and kissed the lips on the wooden funeral mask. Nothing happened.

  “Maybe it means, the real lips?” I asked.

  “I’m not kissing whatever’s in there,” Sitri said.

  “We should take off the mask to be sure,” I said. Sitri slowly reached down and unhinged the lid of the coffin, then removed the golden funeral mask. I held my breath, expecting to see the remains of a skull.

  Instead, I saw a beautiful woman with caramel skin. Her cheeks and eyelids were dusted with gold glitter and blue, and her lips were bright pink. Her dark hair was clipped back with gold pins, and she was wearing a simple gold crown of elegant spread wings, wrapped in coiling cobras, studded with gems and diamonds. In the center was an ankh symbol.

  “On second thought,” Sitri said, “a kiss might not be that bad.”

  A rustling sound behind us made me spin around. The packages on the tables were moving. Bony figures clawed their way out of their bandages. From the box in the other room, I could hear the scratching of tiny beetles.

  “If you’re going to do something, you better do it fast!” I yelled, grabbing Jessie. Sitri leaned and kissed the woman. He tried to pull away, but the woman was suddenly awake, with her dark hands holding his cheeks. Hundreds of candles burst to life at the same time, flooding the room with light.

  I grabbed Sitri and pulled him away from the coffin. The woman sat up, smiling and stretching her arms. She opened her eyes and blinked, then focused on us.

  “Oh,” she said. “That’s not exactly how that was supposed to go.”

  “Let me guess,” Sitri said, “Expecting someone else?”

  “I suppose so,” she sighed. “And you did wake me from a marvelous dream. Did you want something? And where’s my water?”

  I grabbed a golden chalice, and ran back to fill it up in the underground spring. She accepted it without looking at me, and drained the cup. Then she lifted her feet out of the coffin and stood up. I gawked at her flawless body, barely hidden beneath a thin black negligee.

  “Like what you see?” she asked, a touch of humor in her voice. I turned away, my cheeks burning, as she crossed the room and pulled a stack of clothes out of a heavy box in the corner. She pulled on a long black dress, fringed with gold embroidery, and pulled her hair back with her fingers, holding up an antique mirror.

  “Now, is there a reason you’re still here?” she said over her shoulder.

  I bit my lip. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but this wasn’t it. We needed an ally, and this woman was upset we’d waken her from a nap. My charbroiled arm was throbbing in pain, and now that the adrenaline was wearing off, I was overwhelmed with exhaustion. I could feel my eyes watering up, and turned away so the others wouldn’t see my face.

  Jessie glanced at me, then stepped forward and made the introductions.

  “We are friends of Able, from Nevah. This is Kaidance Monroe, the only heir of the three Fates, who Zeus just killed. We seek to destroy Zeus, but he’s bound his thread with thousands of others, including Sitri’s – the last of the Zeusian lycanthropes.”

  Isis’s expression didn’t f
linch, but I could see the intensity of her eyes, burning brighter with each piece of information, like a computer that was booting up. I nodded at Jessie gratefully. I was surprised by how much information she’s absorbed. It was a pretty sound summary, and much more succinct than the stumbling introduction I would have given.

  “The Fates are dead,” Isis repeated slowly, looking back at me. Her gaze fell to the red mark around my wrist, and then to the iron glove, and the angry red flesh just beneath it. Her face suddenly hardened in anger, and she opened another drawer quickly, pulling out a small bottle of blue glass. A strong smell of lavender filled the room when she opened the top.

  “You came to me to break the spell,” Isis deduced, “because I’m rumored to have knowledge of such things. But Hera found you first.”

  “Wait, what?” Jessie asked. “Hera was here?”

  Sitri flinched and grabbed my shoulders.

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” he asked.

  “It literally just happened,” I said. “Up above.”

  “Few mortals survive an encounter with Hera. Those who do, usually wish they hadn’t.”

  “Tell us everything,” Sitri said.

  “She threatened you,” I said, cradling my arm. “I tried to grab her thread but I wasn’t strong enough. There was too much energy. It burned my arm.”

  “People forget she’s also goddess of the hearth,” Isis said simply. “She loves to play the virgin bride, but her true form is much older. Raw, untamed power.”

  Isis brushed the mummy-cats off the table and set up what looked like an antique chemistry set. She whispered, and a flame ignited, heating small stones under a bronze bowl. She spit into the pan, and it sizzled, then she added water, moss, petals, at least one large insect, and mashed everything together into a paste.

  I only hesitated for a second when she approached me, but then held out my injured arm. She spread the paste around the metal glove with the palm of her hand, and the pain faded instantly. I sighed, as a cool numbness spread all the way to my shoulder.