Catacombs (The Sekhmet Bounty Series Book 2)

by Liz Schulte

  “So to Shezmu?”

  She looked back at her drawing on the floor. “Probably. I should stop drawing this, shouldn’t I?”

  I nodded. “Let’s try the other direction first. The humans found Shezmu somehow. Maybe the web is designed to lead people to him and prevent them from getting away. If we let it take us to him then break the spell, no one else will stumble upon him and we won’t have to spend days down here trying to find the right path.”

  She nodded. “It’s a hell of a spell. Subtle and clever. Almost undetectable. This sort of magic is light years ahead of what I can do, just know that. I think I can break it, but I won’t make any promises. We might have to get the whole coven in for that.”

  “Those assholes,” I said under my breath. Shezmu wasn’t magical. The council, on the other hand, had plenty of magic and more than enough contacts to make this spell happen. It had to be them. Who else could pull off something like this? They’d led those people to Shezmu, but for what? What did they want from him? Better yet, what did they want from me?

  Her head popped up and interest filled her eyes. “Who? Do you know who’s doing this?”

  I stretched my neck to one side then the other. Then I smoothed my hands over my skin where the phantoms had touched me, trying to erase the sensation from my memory. “Maybe. But I don’t have any proof. One thing is certain, though: it just made our entire trip that much easier.” I stared down the hall into the darkness. “Keep marking the wall and leave your light on. I don’t care if someone sees us. We need to know what we’re walking into, and the illusions have a harder time taking hold when we can see.”

  I headed back in the opposite direction. For the sake of fairness, it was possible the council had trapped Shezmu here to keep him from hitting the surface, and there was no pathway to hell or anything they wanted from him. Of course, that didn’t fit into my evil organization theory, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t possible. Even as terrible as they were, surely they’d managed to do one or two not-so-evil things over the years. It still didn’t explain why they sent me to deal with him. Leilah was infinitely more qualified.

  After a long while of walking in silence as I stewed over the council, Frost cleared her throat. I waited for the questions I was sure were coming.

  “You’ve killed people, right?”

  That wasn’t at all what I expected her to ask. I had assumed all this time walking she was focusing on what I wasn’t telling her—that was what I would have done. “Um, yeah. Few people in our line of work haven’t. It comes with the job.” I definitely hadn’t killed as many as she had, but I also wasn’t a necromancer. Frost wasn’t the person I’d thought she was before we came here. I didn’t have to spend years with her to know that she was a fairly decent human being who cared about life, even if she had no control over taking it. Which actually meant she lived in a fairly horrible position that was possible to escape.

  “Were things…touching your face back there? Like the people you’ve killed?” Frost wrapped her arms around herself.

  A flood of sympathy for her filled me. I couldn’t imagine what she went through day to day with just her own guilt. Adding these illusions to the equation had to only make it worse. Especially if her greatest fear was the lives that she took, which made mine pale in comparison. I doubted whatever was touching us were the spirits of the dead, but Frost didn’t seem to be of a mind to listen to anything else. The illusions had convinced her. “Not just my face—they touched any and all exposed skin on my body. It’s probably supposed to scare people and make them turn around—but you and I are more stubborn than most. I think the further we went, the more the magic fought against us. It probably feeds on our fear. It doesn’t have anything to do with your past. Only what scares you.”

  Frost pulled her braid over her shoulder and tugged on it, mouth pinched. “I know what I felt. It was the people I killed. It’s not the first time I’ve felt them.”

  I shook my head. “I really don’t think it was. Whatever is doing this is plucking at our emotions. It is looking for weakness. For me there was a loup garou at first in the darkness, and then water. Water is what I’m most afraid of.”

  Frost looked at her feet. “You’re sure it was an illusion?”

  I nodded. “Completely. That’s why we need to leave the lights on. It will keep our imagination from running away from us.” Her shoulders lifted as she took a deep breath. “When did you find out you couldn’t be touched? Did it come later or were you born like this?”

  “From birth. As you can imagine, I had the happiest of childhoods.” Her voice was dry and devoid of emotion. A tone I knew well, but usually it came from me. No one had ever been able to touch Frost. Had she been born in the Abyss, at least there were a few undead races that could have helped her, but being born into the human world, she would have been a monster.

  The last thing Frost needed was my sympathy, though. She had made it this far in life, so obviously she knew how to deal with it on her own. “Bounty hunters.” I waved off her words like I didn’t feel her pain. “We all have a sob story.”

  “Even you?”

  “Oh, especially me. My father died when I was young and my mother never particularly liked me. I was quite the black sheep of my family and in society at large. I am quite the disappointment to my people. They never could see my innate awesomeness.”

  “Sounds cush to me. But I guess it makes sense why we both became bounty hunters. We were looking for a place to belong.”

  I shrugged. “I was looking for freedom to be whoever I wanted to be. I don’t know that I ever thought much about belonging.” I thought back to the day I left. I packed a small bag and left everything else behind. I learned so much those first few years. I had never used money or seen anyone besides other Sekhmets. The nervous anticipation only quickened my steps out the door. No one came out to say goodbye. At most they watched through the windows as I broke every rule we hand. “When I left home, they told me in no uncertain terms I wasn’t welcome back. More than that, no one tried to stop me or even cared that I was leaving. If anything, they were probably relieved to see me go. At least, most of them were. My sister is the only one who seems to believe I should come back, but—”

  “But what?”

  “But she doesn’t run the house or the kingdom. My mother does, and it’s been a long time since she has considered me her daughter or welcome in either place. It’s fine, though. I found more than I could have hoped for beyond our borders. I don’t want to go back.”

  “But you could make up with her. There’s still time. My mother is just gone. I killed her. My father is dead too. I mean, to a degree you are choosing your exile. You are choosing not to see them. Don’t you think you might regret that someday?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Probably not.”

  Frost took a deep breath. “I still think the shitty childhood award goes to me. Your plight is a feeble effort at the title.” She managed to keep the censure I knew was there out of her voice.

  I laughed. “Too true. You win.”

  We walked a bit further in a more comfortable silence than before. It was true that all bounty hunters had something in their past that led them to doing what we did. It wasn’t an easy job and it certainly wasn’t a position that earned you a lot of friends. We were the closest thing the Abyss had to law enforcement, but for a group of people used to being on the outside, it wasn’t much of an adjustment. I was one of the lucky ones. I had friends. I had a family, estranged or not.

  “Why won’t you tell me who’s doing this?” Frost broke the silence again. “Why is it a secret? It’s not just that you don’t know me. It isn’t like I haven’t seen you around, and let’s face it, you aren’t exactly known for secret keeping. As far as I can tell, you say pretty much anything that’s on your mind. Is this professional competition or do you not trust that I’m on whatever side you’re on? Just so you know, I don’t have a stake in this game other than stopping people from dying. That’
s the only reason I am here. I’m not trying to take your case and I certainly don’t know who put up this bounty.”

  I drew a deep breath. I could sympathize with her questions. Years and years of Sy not telling me who he worked for became the mystery I had to solve. It ate away at me until I couldn’t stand not knowing the truth. However, solving that mystery had landed me here. Sometimes the things we want most aren’t the things we should have, but it is a lesson that can only be learned when it is already too late. “Neither. I’m not telling you because you don’t want to know. I know that’s the worst thing to say to a hunter. It would have irked me and I would have stopped at nothing to find out what it was—in fact, it did—but that doesn’t take away from the fact that it’s the truth. It will fuck up your life and the put the lives of everyone you know at risk, especially your coven. If we can make it through this mission without you finding out, it will be a miracle. But for right now, let’s just leave it as a need-to-know.”

  The council already had their eye on the coven because of Sy’s cousin Selene. Frost knowing about them might make them decide the human troublemakers were just that, and eliminate them once and for all. It was a worst-case scenario, but it was also uncomfortably believable. The council obviously didn’t value human life. If they sent fifteen innocent humans to be slaughtered by Shezmu, then what would they do to a coven of troublemaking witches? As I said, Frost didn’t need to know.

  “And I don’t need to know even though I’m here with you. I mean, I don’t see anyone else jumping up to volunteer to help you. That’s such crap and you know it,” she groused. “I’d rather know what I am dealing with than go in blind.”

  “Make another X.”

  She drew a big X over a spot of graffiti. “You don’t trust me because I’m a necromancer, just admit it. Do you have any idea how unfair that is? I can’t help what I was born as. It’s not like I want to kill people. I didn’t choose this life and I have done everything I can to protect the people around me from what I am.”

  I stifled a sigh. This was why having a partner sucked. Granted, I didn’t care much for the idea of being sent here with a necromancer, but I wasn’t judging her. She wasn’t the first necromancer I had known. We had a few among our priestesses. As general rule of thumb, though, I avoided all clergy. It just wasn’t my scene. “Have you ever wondered how Sy can do the things he does? They aren’t half-elf qualities. Can Selene be in two places at once? Can Selene read your mind? Did you ever think about who Sy works for?” I glanced over at her. “There’s a bigger picture.”

  She stared at me, eyes like slits. “I don’t see how that has anything to do with—” Her mouth snapped shut. Blood rose to her pale cheeks as she moved away from me. “Are you accusing Sy of something? Because whatever it is you think he has done, I can tell you without a single doubt that he would never do anything that would hurt someone. Sy is the kindest, best person I have ever met. How dare you? You’re supposed to be his friend.” She looked genuinely pissed off, like at any moment she’d take off her gloves and come at me. “I can’t believe what you are telling me.”

  “Relax. I am not disparaging Saint Sy.” Her violent reaction wasn’t overly surprising. Sy had a tendency to save people, and with that came unwavering loyalty even from the most unlikely miscreants. If they didn’t give in to his charm, his personality tended to win them over because everything Frost said about him was true. It was hard to know Sy and not fall at least a little bit in love with him. But the conviction in her voice was definitely more than that of a regular bounty hunter. Frost seemed more than a little bit in love with him. “I am his friend. That’s why I have his back, no matter what stupid thing he gets himself involved in. He’s not infallible.”

  Her mouth worked back and forth as she chewed on my words. “If Sy is in trouble, I want to help. Tell me everything.”

  I shook my head. “It’s not like that. He believes he knows what he’s doing. I think the people he’s working with are dangerous and not be trusted. But there isn’t an immediate threat, and I don’t even know if he would agree with my assessment.”

  “Have you told him what you think?”

  “Not yet. I am collecting evidence right now. All I have is my gut, and I trust it. Sy’s character is in no way in question here. I’m always suspicious of people who do things for the greater good because more often than not, that ‘greater good’ turns out to be the best outcome for them, rarely for anyone else. Funny how that works out. But Sy isn’t going to listen to me until I can prove my suspicions. That’s part of what this mission is about for me. I know they are involved.”

  “It sounds like you think you’re explaining this, but nothing you’re saying makes sense. Who is ‘they’ and why is Sy working for anyone? He has the bar. What sort of evidence would you find down here?”

  As we came around a corner, a bright light glared up ahead. Wordlessly, we stopped and listened. There was light murmuring, like before. “I think we’ve found the voices. Want to meet them or scare them away?” I whispered to Frost.

  Frost pulled at the fingers of her left glove. “If the same thing that is forcing us in this direction is guiding them, I don’t know that they have a choice about whether or not to be here. They might not be able to leave, just like we couldn’t go down the wrong hallway. Who knows how long they’ve been stuck? Let’s not scare them. Let’s get them somewhere safe.”

  Valid points and a worthy goal, but that said, I didn’t want people behind me that I hadn’t at least vetted in the most basic sense. Human or not, no one was down here without a reason. And while that reason might be innocent, it might not be. If we were going to have a problem, taking care of it now was better than later. Not that I wanted to kill them, but I wanted to know they couldn’t leave where I put them until I let them out.

  “Let me go first. If they’re human, they won’t know I’m there, and I can see what they’re up to. A little eavesdropping might be more revealing than hours of conversation.”

  “Especially if they were talking to you,” Frost said, shooting me a look.

  “And you’re an open book?” I rolled my eyes. “I am who I am. Get over it.”

  She shook her head. “How long do you want me to wait?”

  “Give me a couple minutes.”

  Chapter 6

  I jogged soundlessly toward the light, which, now that I was closer, appeared to be coming from a small, hollowed-out room or cavern. It sounded like two people were inside, their voices soft and drowsy, but still muffled. Carved into the walls in this section were tall, narrow figures and faded symbols. Something about them reminded me of home. I stepped in front of the jagged hole in the limestone. It opened up into a room I hadn’t seen in years: my mother’s office. The soft white stone walls were inlaid with murals of gold and vibrant colors, all meant to tell a story of those who came before us. Uncomfortable boxlike chairs with pointed backs surrounded the only part of the room that was new to me, a small bed. My mother lay in the bed, her eyes closed. Her arms were practically skeletal and her skin looked papery thin with a sallow hue. Her lips were dried, cracked, and bleeding.

  It was just like her to move her bed to her office rather than convalescing in her bedroom. If she couldn’t get to her work, then she’d choose to stay with it. But looking at her lying there like that was eye-opening. I had seen my mother angry, I had seen her on a warpath, I had even caught her smile every now and then, but she was never weak. She had always been a towering pillar of strength, demanding that I obey her and submit to her will. That wasn’t the woman in the bed. The one before me didn’t look like she could walk across the room, let alone rule. Pain was etched on the lines of her regal, stark face.

  My stomach twisted. She was dying. Not in war or battle, as we were meant to go, but of age. How was it better to die from age or sickness than it was to go down in a fight? I had lost lives before. It went fast and sometimes painfully, but at least it wasn’t drawn out like this. I never had to watch
my own body betray me and start shutting down.

  Dendera entered the room. “I called Femi.” She shifted the stack of files she carried to one side so she could take Mother’s hand. “She’ll come. This time she will not ignore my request.”

  My mother pulled away, making an airy noise. “She won’t. She made her choice long ago. Stop calling her.”

  “She will be here, Mother. She knows her duty. She will come and she will complete the trials. It’s what the goddess desires; even Femi cannot resist that.”

  My mother’s black eyes—the only part of her unchanged—met Dendera’s, as cold and unfeeling as ever. “Do you think I don’t know my own daughter? You believe you know better than me what drives your sister? She will not come. She has forsaken the goddess as she has forsaken us. Do not presume to know the goddess’s mind unless you wish to be struck down for your insolence.”

  “That’s not—”

  “Hold your tongue or cut it off. I do not want your sympathy or hollow words. I am the one with voice of the goddess in my ear. I alone will choose my successor.” Mother turned her stare back toward the ceiling. Were those tears glossing her eyes? “Leave. Even your silence is disruptive.”

  Dendera bowed her head and left. Always the perfect daughter, she would never say what she thought. She always did everything Mother told her, no matter how stupid it was. A follower through and through. Mother wouldn’t choose her to rule the Sekhmets. Dendera was too weak. She wouldn’t command the respect the position required. No, Mother would go outside of the family. Knowing her, she probably already had her mind set on someone else who displayed the traits she most valued.

  I took a step forward, wanting to defend my sister who had never been able to defend herself. Not that Mother was wrong. I wasn’t going back. Though I had hardly forsaken the goddess. I always liked to think the goddess watched my life with a smile. At least I was interesting. When I left my people, it was a permanent exile. Mother was the one who told me that if I left, I could never come back. It was a threat that backfired on her. I was more than happy to not return, so I accepted her terms gleefully.