Making Midlife Madness: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel (Forty Is Fabulous Book 2)

by Heloise Hull

  My screams were strangled as the void swallowed us whole.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  We landed in a maze of twisting, dark halls that webbed out at jagged angles. It felt ancient, almost sentient. “The Athenian labyrinth,” Mestjet said, almost reverently as she strode into the darkness. “We brought it to St. Louis specifically for the archon.”

  “And you expect me to follow you?”

  “Would you rather get lost down here?”

  “Not really.”

  “Good choice, because the traps are especially terrifying.”

  Despite my repugnance, I stayed close after that. Mestjet didn’t seem like she wanted to kill me. Not yet at least. Instead, she led me down endless corridors. I saw a nursery of baby sphinxes, which explained some things, and glowing rooms of amethyst and pearl, which didn’t. As we sank deeper and deeper into the maze, Mestjet grew more excited. If I were a betting woman, I’d say she wanted me to do something with my godly power. Which didn’t bode well for me. I had no control over it. My mother magic I breathed in my very bones. My god magic? Spottier than a kid with chicken pox.

  Mestjet stood in front of another onyx black door. Clenching my elbow, she opened it and pushed me through first. I stumbled, squawking as I caught myself on something hard, and a lemony scent of pine cleaner assaulted my nostrils.

  I blinked away white spots from the sudden light. We were in… the women’s bathroom?

  “How did you do that?” Mestjet shook the elbow she was still holding, rattling my teeth. Her grip was surprisingly strong.

  I held up my hands. “I’m just along for the ride at this point.”

  Outraged, Mestjet led us back into the labyrinth again and again, only to take two steps down a corridor and find ourselves right back in the bathroom. Every corner, every door, every turn ended up in the same place. Between two stalls.

  “How are you doing this?” Mestjet demanded again and again, a terrible look in her eyes.

  “Even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you. Lucky for me, I have no idea.”

  Mestjet shouted in frustration, unleashing a spell that crumpled me to my knees. When she finished, she paced around the bathroom mumbling like a crazy mummy.

  I lifted my head, my hair loosened and scraggly around my sweat-soaked forehead, and stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. I’d seen better days. Drowned rats had seen better days.

  Below us, the archon was positively howling as he rattled his bars. I cringed every time I heard the scraping of his nails. They echoed as if he were raking them across exposed bone.

  I ignored Mestjet and her rage for a moment and went to take a closer look at the oubliette. We were at a deadlock anyway. I turned to the stall and pushed on the door. It banged open in the quiet of the bathroom. “What is this if it’s not the way into his prison?” I asked.

  Mestjet’s face was pinched. “It’s an astral illusion. He spent centuries making it just to contact supernaturals that could hear him. So far, that number is at two. Me.” She took me in from shoes to humidity-frizzled hair. “And you. This is what the world is waiting for. Unleash him, godling,” she ordered. “He will help us remake the world. Together.”

  The scary part wasn’t Mestjet betraying everyone. If I pieced it together, it made sense. She was altogether too interested in my tattoo at the first meeting, and she asked some seriously leading questions about my boys. Aurick said she had intervened to let me go home to Aradia. I thought it was kindness. Now I knew better. Then in the lab, she wasn’t surprised at all that I’d talked to the archon. Only Bruno was. In fact, she’d looked right in the direction where I’d heard the voice.

  Still, that wasn’t the scariest bit. Despite the situation, the mummy didn’t come anywhere close to the most spine-chilling thing in here.

  No, the scariest part was how silent the archon had become since I entered his stall. I could hear his inhales. Could smell his wild exhales. He was waiting to see what I would say, afraid his voice might tip the scales against him. That told me he knew he was a monster, and he didn’t want to spook me further. He’d learned his lesson from our first encounter.

  My breath clumped together. Was this what it felt like to have a panic attack? I sat down abruptly on the cool tiles and put my head between my knees. “No,” I forced out.

  “I’ve studied your blood. Whatever you are isn’t of this world. Wolf? Perhaps. But you admitted yourself you heard him. I wasn’t sure before, but only other archons or those with divine blood could hear him.”

  “So you’re which one?”

  Mestjet drew herself up proudly. “I am descended from the great creator god, Ra. He had three daughters, all his Eye at some point. I come from Hathor. And for some reason, you are also branded as his Eye. Don’t you see? It is a sign. We should be working together,” Mestjet coaxed, a new tone in her voice.

  So she was attempting persuasion over brute force.

  My thoughts strayed unbidden to Mak. He had divine blood, diluted across a few generations. “Why doesn’t my blood look like gold ichor then?” I asked, remembering his scythe.

  “Stop stalling and release the archon.”

  Ignoring her orders, I continued to play for time, desperate to get out of this hell hole and back to my friends. I had felt invincible when I knew they were in danger. Now, I felt a bit like the guard-turned-beetle. Crushed, inevitably, under someone else’s shoe.

  “What do you get out of this? Why release an archon if it took centuries of war to imprison them? Seems like an oversight to me. Or really dumb.”

  “You understand so little.”

  “Yeah, no kidding. I’ve been a supernatural for like a month, but at least I know more than Bruno. How is it that he never figured it out?”

  “Bruno is a fool. He should have never been elected head of the Council of Beings. He doesn’t deserve it, doesn’t have the foresight. When the gods return, I will be their high priestess once again. All this and more has been promised to me.”

  “So let me get this straight. You’re doing all of this because you miss your glory days? Take it from me; it’s time to embrace the second half of your life. From personal experience, it’s more fun.”

  Mestjet merely laughed.

  Deep breathes, in and out. Coronis and I had gotten it wrong. We thought the magical community had somehow found out about my cursed prophecy to rise empires. It was only Mestjet. And she was only interested in rising Thoth.

  “So you were the one commanding the mages, the sphinx, and the necromancers? Pretty impressive for a desiccated mummy whose time is past. One question. How did you kill them with water?” I asked, remembering the gurgles. That would haunt my dreams for a long time to come.

  “I implanted kill settings without them knowing. It allowed me to drown them with sand from the inside. A little mummy safeguard. I rarely use the smart ones. They think too much. Only the old and desperate work for me.”

  Sand. It had been wet sand dribbling out of the necromancers’ mouths. I swallowed Mestjet’s callousness where it roiled unpleasantly in my stomach and asked, “Why did you intervene to get me released after my trial and then send a sphinx to kill me?”

  She shrugged. “It was merely a test. I was probing your strength and your knowledge of your curse. I wasn’t sure exactly what was protecting you and your sons. The mages attacked while you were under house arrest, yet, the boys remained safely ensconced. So, I tested your safeguards next, which meant I needed you free. Come now, don’t look at me like that. The beast was only supposed to capture you. I did think the necromancers would succeed, though. That was my mistake.”

  I didn’t like this. Mestjet was talking to me like she knew it wouldn’t matter because I wasn’t getting out alive. If I didn’t help her free the archon, she’d simply kill me and wait for another unsuspecting supernatural with divine blood to help. Someone like Mak. I couldn’t let that happen. It didn’t matter if I had the Eye of Ra on my back. She’d waited millennia. Clearly, she h
ad a professional perspective on waiting.

  Unfortunately, Mestjet had spent that time learning and perfecting spells. Hieroglyphs burned in the air as she spoke incantations. Her wrappings descended on me again, and I only had time to slash the first roll before two more tied my arms to my side.

  “You will help. It is your duty as an Eye of Ra,” Mestjet said. “Why fight something so majestic?”

  “I’m no one’s Eye,” I grunted as the wrappings squeezed tighter.

  “You’re marked by the great god Ra.”

  “It was Khonsu,” I blurted.

  That made Mestjet pause. “The moon god? No. You have a solar disc. The moon god did not touch you. It would be impossible.”

  “Yeah, well I’m staring at impossible,” I said, reaching out to feel the life force of the sad, drooping fern that was there to spruce up the bathroom. It was faltering, hesitant. The plant desperately needed fresh air and sunlight.

  I tried to channel feelings of calm, and nurturing thoughts like it deserved. I’d found the more I used my power, the stronger it became, like exercising a muscle or learning a language. I was learning my special language of magic, and practice made perfect.

  Mestjet spoke low and quickly, incanting what were, in all likelihood, specific spells she wrote for her Coffin Texts. They weren’t so cool anymore.

  Whatever she was doing was growing in her hands. I forced myself to look away and concentrate on the fern. The plant was whipping and whirling, finally coming back to life. It spiraled out curling vines to the mummy, wrapping her as tightly as her wrappings.

  “You have to stop this madness,” I huffed, keeping the vines twisting around her body.

  Mestjet laughed, which either meant she’d gone completely to the dark side or was about to blow up the bathroom. She spread her arms, dark mist oozing from her vulture pectoral to obliterate my fern.

  Goodbye bathroom.

  Knowing I only had a few seconds to do something impressive, I began to nurture the roots left from the fern. It was the only thing still alive in the bathroom that I could use my mother magic on. Or so I thought. A strange scrabbling noise made me pause. It almost sounded like… clicking.

  “Mestjet…”

  From under Mestjet’s linen sheath dress, scarab beetles scuttled down her arms, dropping to the tile floor on their hard shells. They darted as one toward me as I screamed. I was about to be eaten alive by beetles. Well if that wasn’t some poetic justice…

  My hands were hot in fear. No, my hands were hot because they were on freaking fire.

  I shook them frantically and the fire spit and crackled, scorching the wrappings around my arms and the first wave of beetles. Mestjet froze, confusion on her face. It must have mirrored my own, because I had no idea what was happening.

  The beetles continued to advance and Mestjet’s incantations grew stronger, so I did the only thing I could think of. I ran with it, channeling more energy than I’d ever tried before.

  The flames grew, covering my arms and torso, until I couldn’t contain them anymore. I threw my hands out, unleashing the flames on the room.

  Mestjet’s body soared backward, her head snapping forward before hitting the tiled wall behind her. The tiles shattered and the mummy fell to the ground with a sickening thunk. Immediately, the beetles dissipated in a wisp of sulfur and ash.

  Breathing heavily, I stumbled to her. Fear gripped my throat and made it hard to get oxygen. Even as I’d thrown that last bolt of energy, I’d regretted it. I’d felt its overwhelming power as I let it loose. It was too much, but I couldn’t call it back. I’d never channeled like that before.

  “Mestjet.” My voice was plaintive. “Mestjet, I didn’t mean—” I sank to my knees and turned her body over so I could see her face.

  Her cheeks and forehead was bruised and red from hitting the ground, and her nose looked broken. Her clothing and skin was scorched by my sudden fire magic. “You…” she said, lovingly caressing my cheek as recognition dawned in her eyes. A moment later, they went blank.

  “Mestjet? Mestjet!” I was afraid to shake her, but what did it matter? I already knew she was gone.

  Her last words haunted me. Had she recognized Cleopatra in her final moments? Now I would never know.

  Oh God, I’d done it. I’d killed someone. I dropped my eyes and gently laid down her rag doll body, the reality sinking in. I’d not only destroyed parts of the Arch, but a being even more ancient than myself. Tears began to fall on Mestjet’s body, so I scooted back and stood, wiping my stinging eyes on my sleeve.

  I took stock of the damage, starting with myself. There were some painful, itchy bite marks from the beetles. There were slash marks and a little blood on my arms, but shockingly, no burn marks or pain around my hands. How had that happened? I couldn’t stop curling my fingers. I never wanted to feel that power again. It felt wrong. I didn’t recognize myself in it.

  I hated it.

  Finally, I took in the rest of the bathroom. Water spritzed from the cracked sinks and destroyed toilets. Metal stall doors swung wildly on their broken hinges. It was snowing paper towel shreds.

  Through the wreckage, I caught a glimpse. Of him. The archon’s eyes glowed gold, and I saw horns in the shape of crescent moons protruding from his head. Fur crackled along the edges of its razor sharp jawbones and down its neck. From this angle, I thought I saw a lizard-like tail, its scales glistening in the low light.

  And it looked… excited.

  “I’m never letting you out,” I said defiantly, the madness inside of me swirling like a cyclone.

  The archon merely whipped its tail, the steady smack of scales against stone chilling to my ears. He knew that my declaration was full of false bravado. That events were way past my control. He didn’t even bother to answer. I merely saw a flash of white teeth, as if he had smiled.

  I dragged myself away, out of the bathroom and down the hall to the lab. My friends were still in there with Bruno. At best, they were all stuck behind the spores and cultures. At worst? Well, lots of terrible scenarios came to mind.

  The hallways that shouldn’t exist wound endlessly through a space too small to contain them. I kept losing my sense of direction. Frankly, I felt like I was losing my mind. I wanted to go home, to get out of this mess. I couldn’t stop thinking about Mestjet’s eyes, and I had no idea what to do about the archon. Why could I hear him? Was this all the god’s doing when he touched me in that cave?

  When I finally reached the lab and flung open the door, Bruno was cowering in a corner. The cultures I’d created were hanging limp, the edges ragged like a broken spider’s web. Aurick had clapped a Gordian Knot around the vampire’s wrists, and it looked like they were in the middle of an unpleasant conversation.

  I almost sank in relief. They were fine. All of them.

  “Wait. Where’s Thessaly?” I asked.

  Rosemary did a double-take before shrieking in surprise. “Ava!” She bustled over, her grip lifting me off the ground for a moment. “Thessaly went to find you. Are you okay? Where is Mestjet? What happened to your hands?”

  I didn’t meet her eyes. I didn’t meet anyone’s eyes. Especially not Luca’s. “Mestjet is dead.”

  The room froze for a moment.

  “I killed her.”

  I looked up to see Luca’s face, but it was unfathomable.

  “It was an accident,”I said, feeling the need to explain myself.

  “But are you okay?” Rosemary pulled my palms closer and examined the ends of my sleeves. They were singed, I realized, and I pressed my palms together behind my back to hide them.

  “I’m fine. The archon is still imprisoned.” Here, I turned my gaze like acid on Bruno. “But you have a problem. Mestjet wanted to free it and restore the gods. The archon can’t live. It’s too dangerous.”

  I winced as the archon howled.

  Despite my words, I wondered if it was justice speaking or if it was Luca’s prophecy about my desire to kill already bearing bitter frui
ts. Was an ancient creature’s death the only answer? As long as I kept my boys away from Aradia, surely Thoth wouldn’t awaken.

  But a little voice in the back of my mind refused to shut up. You are always doomed to fail. What makes this life different? And what about the next one? Eventually, you will trigger Thoth, accident or not.

  I felt the madness increasing. I was swirling in a whirlpool with nothing solid to grab a hold of. I felt the sensation of drowning.

  Suddenly, Aurick was there.

  I looked over his shoulder, confused. Unsure of where I stood for a moment as the darkness tugged at my soul, but he held me and I saw. I was here with my friends, my family.

  I centered myself and turned to Bruno. His red eyes had lost their edge under the dull glow of the Knot. “Wolves do not tell us what to do,” he spat. “The cage keeping him prisoner held firm, even against betrayal at the highest levels.”

  I loosened my death grip on Aurick. “Because of me.”

  “Don’t think too highly of yourself. There’s no oxygen in the atmosphere.”

  I stalked over to Bruno, taking in his disheveled state. He looked weak, like a leather shoe worn too long, and I found I was no longer intimidated by him.

  With a tilted head, I examined his binds. A finger placed over the intricate cords, a thimble of pressure, and they dropped to the ground. I did it deliberately and slowly. I wanted him to know that the Knot could no longer hold me.

  Aurick made a noise of disbelief, but I didn’t take my eyes off of Bruno. “Have you heard what he whispers?” I asked him without expecting an answer. “Do you know what he says? Of course you do not. You know nothing of the power in his words, because he doesn’t speak to you. He speaks to me.”

  “You would let the gods return?” Bruno asked, a little care in his voice for once.

  “If that question can even be posed, then I’d say you have a problem.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The fact that you can ask it means it is a possibility, and it will remain one as long as the archon lives in this realm,” I said, speaking as much to the archon as to Bruno. “So don’t let it be a possibility.”