by Liz Schulte
Only Dendera didn’t seem to believe that I wasn’t going to come home. She seemed to think if she found the right words or the right button to push, I’d come back. Why my mother didn’t explain the terms of my exile to her was beyond me. Maybe she didn’t want to look like the bad person. She was happy to allow me to take the blame. Or maybe her plan was to let me keep disappointing my sister until I lost her too.
“What’s in there?” Frost whispered behind me.
I shook my head. Of all the places this passage could lead, it wasn’t to my mother’s office. It had to be an illusion. Moving a step back, I let her see. She gasped, and her lips whitened as she watched whatever she was seeing, which sure as hell wasn’t my mother, given her reaction. Just like with the invisible hands that touched us, this room was enchanted to affect us each deeply and personally. We were obviously where the web’s master wanted us to be. Primed for manipulation.
“Sy,” she muttered, bracing her hand against the wall.
My ears perked up and for a moment I wished I could see what she was seeing. She got Sy and I got my mother. The world really wasn’t fair.
“What is this?” She tore her eyes away from whatever she envisioned. “It’s not real…it can’t be. I’d never… This wouldn’t happen. It couldn’t happen. What’s doing this?”
Why would she see Sy? And what had she done to him in her vision? I eyed the tiny person before me. She might be able to kill me with a touch, but I could still take her. I just had to be faster, and if she was a threat to Sy, I would be faster.
I shook off the thought. It wasn’t real either. This place got beneath your skin and corrupted every thought and feeling. Frost and I didn’t have any reason to fight. I didn’t have or want any claim on Sy. “I don’t know if it’s showing anything real. What I saw wouldn’t surprise me if it was real, but who knows. It’s designed to get an emotional response, to provoke us into entering that hole.”
She nodded. “How much do you want to bet we can’t go any further that way?” She nodded toward the darkness. “So do we go in or go back? Should we break the spell now? I can try.”
I nodded. “Now would be good.” While she moved away to restart drawing her circle with the chalk, I stared into the room and watched my mother. Part of me knew it wasn’t real. Frost was right; it couldn’t be. But it seemed like it was. Nothing was happening in this scene that was out of character. I was simply watching her slowly die. Just like Dendera wanted me to do. I wished Olivia was here. I didn’t know how to feel about any of this, and she was good at picking out the truth even from the most complicated lies. And my brain was filled with years and years of the stories that I told myself and others every day. It was getting hard to remember what the truth was.
Mother’s head slowly turned in my direction, and her eyes seemed to stare directly into me.
“You won’t return,” she whispered, though I could hear her clearly. “But you cannot escape your destiny, no matter how far you run.”
“I’ll return when you ask me to come home,” I whispered back.
“What?” Frost said behind me, but I ignored her.
My mother’s chin rose slightly, then lowered. Was that a nod or a coincidence? Could she hear me? “The trials have already begun. You cannot escape.”
What trials?
“What are you seeing?” Frost asked.
I looked away from my mother. “What was that?”
“You’re standing there talking to yourself. What do you see?”
“My mother. She’s sick.” While walking right into a trap was annoyingly stupid, I didn’t see a lot of other options. We had to get in there. Standing out here thinking wasn’t going to get us anywhere. “How long do you think it will take to break the spell?”
Frost shook her head. “It depends whether or not I’m strong enough. If I am, it’ll be a matter of minutes.”
If we had to bring the entire coven, it could take days that we didn’t have. And going back wasn’t going to get us where we needed to be. No matter what happened with the spell, I was going through this door. It was where I was led, where I was meant to be. More importantly, it was where Shezmu and, hopefully, the evidence I needed against the council were.
“Okay, stand back.” She sat a slender notebook with spells to the side then rolled her shoulders, and her back audibly popped before she stepped into her circle and closed the last lines with her chalk. She went through a lot of mumbo jumbo, lighting candles and holding her arms up toward the sky, muttering. No way were a few candles, a chalk drawing, and some words going to break this spell. We were wasting time.
My mind and eyes went back to my mother. She was standing right in front of the door, leaning heavily on her cane, staring over Frost’s head at me. This was a persistent vision.
“Don’t make the same mistakes as your father. You cannot defeat Shezmu. Leave it be.”
I frowned. This was getting entirely too real. I held my tongue. Talking to the illusion only gave it strength, but I couldn’t look away either. Up close her eyes were encased in darkness and sunken. Her hand holding the cane wobbled. Her hair had turned white and was cut down to nearly her scalp.
“If you ever listen to one thing I tell you, do not do this, Femi. I do not want this fight for you.”
That was too bad. Shezmu was my problem now. If she didn’t like it, she should have taken care of him back when he killed my father.
“I don’t think it’s working,” Frost said. “I hate this. There has to be a way to break this spell without getting the coven. For all we know, Shezmu knows exactly where we are. You told me to listen to my instincts. My instincts say this has trap written all over it. We’d be fools to go through that opening.”
On the surface, I agreed with her. When all signs point in one direction, it’s best to go the opposite way. Or better yet, break down a wall and make your own path. But there was something so familiar about all of this. It was right there on the edge of my mind, just out of reach. I was missing something that should have been second nature for me to recognize. But my mind wasn’t putting the pieces together like it should. Why couldn’t I remember that?
I reached out and touched the carved figures on the wall around the opening. Frost pointed her headlamp toward the images when she saw I was touching something, illuminating the intricate designs, such a far cry from the natural stone that had been everywhere else. I closed my eyes, tracing the images and picturing them in my mind. That was it. Jackpot!
I smiled, pulling my hand away. It was just like home because this room was made by a Sekhmet. “What do you see?”
“Carvings of tall people and symbols,” Frost said.
I knew exactly what this was. It had been a long time, but how could I have forgotten? The tunnel was messing with my head in a major way. “See this?” I traced the symbols at my eye level with a clawed fingernail. “It’s like a protection spell. And this.” I pointed lower. “This is to trap monsters inside. It’s a labyrinth.”
“Okay…” Frost said. “So like the Goblin King is waiting inside.”
“Who?”
“Never mind. Does it really matter what we call it? I don’t think we should go inside. If this is where we were led, then something is waiting for us. We don’t even know Shezmu is inside.”
It completely mattered. It changed everything. “Labyrinths were designed to trap malevolent spirits. Sound like someone we were sent to find? You said we needed to figure out what changed. It’s the labyrinth. It shouldn’t be connected to our world or any world. The point is to trap. Someone connected it and is feeding Shezmu humans. I agree they want us to go inside, and we don’t have a choice. If we don’t do it, we can’t find out who or what is behind any of this.”
“But why now? Why us?” she asked. “And how are the bodies getting out here? If he can leave to dispose of a body, why can’t he get out? There are way too many unanswered questions. It doesn’t hurt us to postpone. We know where he is. There is no im
mediate danger.”
I shook my head. “Tell that to the people who were killed. We don’t know who is doing this or what they want. But I’m sure as hell going to find out. This actually explains a lot. Shezmu isn’t leading us, and he didn’t lead the humans either. The labyrinth would neutralize what little magic he could possibly possess in the outside world. That means it is definitely someone else. Someone who knew about the labyrinth and can’t get through it. That’s why they sent me. I was raised doing these things. I can do it. Also, they said to send Shezmu back to hell or kill him. If we do either, it will destroy the labyrinth.” I took a step toward the opening, still seeing my mother on the other side. Maybe the image was meant to repel and not to tempt.
“If they want it destroyed, why play into their hand? Let’s just figure out how to break it free from this world.” She sighed. “Let’s go back, regroup, and see what we can figure out. What’s the rush?”
I shook my head. “More people won’t help inside. And I can’t involve more people.”
“And you still won’t tell me why?”
“I didn’t want you to come to begin with. I’m fine if you want to stay. I’m going.” There was nothing to like about any of this case, including the fact that Leilah brought up my mother, and then, out of everything that could possibly tempt me into the labyrinth, she was shown to me sick and dying, when my sister had just called saying the same thing. Obviously, the spell was pulling information from my own mind. Why still confused me, though. If anything seeing my mother made me not want to go inside. I mean, my sister being in trouble, Charlie or Baker being trapped or hurt, Olivia or Sy needing me…any of those scenarios would have triggered an emotional response that was a million times stronger, but no. It was the first person to disown and reject me. Whatever Frost saw was bad too. I could see it on her face. We were being tempted inside. The labyrinth was doing its job and trying to keep people out. “What do you know about dragons? What can they do?”
“Well, besides being imaginary, I guess they can fly and breathe fire and hoard treasure. What does that have to do with the labyrinth?”
“I’m pretty sure they’re magical. Probably really strong, old magic.” Leilah wanted Shezmu dead. She assigned the case, she brought up my family, and she never did seem to like me. I had wondered why send me and not just kill Shezmu herself. The labyrinth explained that. It was designed to trap monsters. She totally fit the bill. If she went in, she’d be trapped inside, just like him.
Frost crossed her arms tightly. “Why are we talking about dragons?”
“No reason. I’m going to go in. Are you with me?”
She stubbornly didn’t move, staring down at her failed attempt to break the spell. Finally she looked up. “I’m not setting foot in there until you tell me what’s happening.”
“Okay. That’s your choice. I understand. If you don’t want to go any further, that’s fine, but it doesn’t change my mind. Be careful on your way out.” I took a deep breath. “Do you have enough food, in case you can’t get out?”
“Femi,” she said. “Be reasonable. You’re willingly going into a trap.”
I looked over my shoulder and shrugged. “It’s personal to me.” I stepped through the hole before she could try to talk me out of it. We had already wasted enough time. I crossed my fingers that I was right and wouldn’t end up square in my mother’s office. That would possibly be worse than hell.
The room on the other side was cavernous. A white marble colonnade spread from one side to the other, supporting a lattice roof. I was in a courtyard (thankfully not back home) with two choices: one, I could continue through one of the doors and run the maze, or two, I could still turn around and take Frost’s suggestion about bringing in more magical help. The magic that led us through the catacombs probably wouldn’t work in the labyrinth. They were all but impenetrable from the outside because they were stationed between worlds. Not that I was worried about making it through. This was my element. It was in my blood. I ran maze after maze growing up. I was the best in my class. In fact, it was my favorite part of my education.
“I told you not to come back.” My mother’s voice ran like ice down my spine.
My mind swam. She was an illusion. No way would she set a physical foot into a place like this. Too unpredictable. She couldn’t control this world and she’d never risk her life, even if there wasn’t much of it left. She didn’t even try to avenge my father. She wouldn’t come here now.
However, that didn’t mean she didn’t have a hand in it. Mother was perfectly capable of creating a labyrinth with the assistance of the priestesses. Shezmu also had a connection to my family. Her personal regard for human life was minimal at best. But why attach the labyrinth to the catacombs at all? She wouldn’t want Shezmu freed. Maybe that was why the council sent me. They wanted me to deal with my own mother.
One nagging thought wouldn’t leave me alone, and it made my suspicions that she was behind this feel more and more likely: only my mother would believe that the image of her sick and bitchy would tempt me into a room. I turned slowly toward her voice.
It was like looking at my future self in the mirror—if I ever lived a single life to the ripe old age of two hundred, anyway. No thanks. We were the same height, we had the same build, but her resting bitch face was miles ahead of mine. “Mother. This seems extreme. All you had to do is call.”
She batted the words from the air and prowled around me, no longer appearing sick and feeble. My mother and all the Sekhmet elders refused to use any modern technology, like sending an email would fucking kill them. “You abandon your people for what? For this? To risk your life for those who cannot even perceive you. You are as foolish as he was. You have no regard for your family or responsibilities. You cannot defeat him.”
“I don’t think someone who traps and kills innocents gets to be self-righteous.”
A resounding slap connected with my face.
Anger flared in me, tightening my hands at my sides. “Hit me again and I’m going to forget who and what you are,” I said in a cold, measured tone that was hopefully filled with the anger I felt. “Why are you here?”
“The stench of weakness surrounds you. Your sympathy for them blinds your decisions. You need to be reminded of who you are, daughter. That’s why I’m here. You had your chance to explore the world. It is over now.”
She backed away, hands at her sides, a challenge on her face. A wind picked up, sweeping down the colonnade, stirring up dust. The dust swirled and formed into creatures. Animals that looked like undead crosses between jackals and dogs came out from between the columns. Flesh hung in rotting strips from their tall, slender bodies. Their tails were forked. They were called sha and were meant to protect tombs. They crept forward in perfect unison, low to the ground and snarling.
Chapter 7
I pulled out my knives. The only lessons the old woman knew how to teach were hard ones. It was no wonder our people were afraid to have a different opinion. If anyone dissented, anyone at all, from what she believed to be true, they were crushed. Or in my case, apparently ripped apart by dogs. Rather than living in a world where everyone was entitled to see through uniquely flawed eyes, she insisted they all just saw through hers.
The horrific canine creatures slinked toward me. Bright yellow foam that smelled like rot dripped from their snarling mouths, and their teeth gnashed. Sha were Typhonic beasts, but none like I had never seen before. They were totemic animals that served the god Set. But how and why was Set involved? More and more this case seemed entirely out of my depth and abilities.
The animals rushed me as a group. No way would I get out without a scratch. There were too many. I resigned myself to the fact I was going to get injured, and that didn’t actually matter so long as I defeated them all in the end. I kicked the front runner, sending him sprawling into three others, as I sliced wildly with my knife. But that was the problem with the undead. They didn’t feel pain, and they were nearly impossible to put
down. I planted my feet firmly to the ground, and my arms flew independent of each other, fighting the attacks as they came at me in waves. If they knocked me off my feet, I was dead.
At least eight surrounded me, teeth sinking into my thighs and tearing away my flesh. I leaped over them and landed on the other side. I backed myself against a column as they charged again. Fangs sank into my calf as I threw one off my front. I hated the undead. Even as their flesh hung in tatters and bone was exposed, they didn’t stop. One leaped for my neck. I threw my forearm up in time to block it, but its rotten mouth bit into my muscle, straight to the bone. Using my other hand, I pried at its mouth, the stench making me gag.
There was a low whistle behind me. “Looks like you could use help. To bad you are so determined to do this alone.”
Another beast tore at my legs, making me grunt, as I slammed the one still attached to my arm onto the floor. This was why I wore leather.
“Me? Need help? No. I got this. You just stand back and be pretty,” I said through gritted teeth. It had taken Frost long enough to decide to join me. I finally dug my claws between the monster’s teeth, yanked its jaw back, and tore its head clean off. And that was the good thing about the undead. Soft bones. Another one latched on to my shoulder before I could even catch my breath.
Frost stepped forward, hands stretched toward the sky, mumbling words I couldn’t understand. Then she snapped her fingers. “Stop,” she said, and all the beasts froze in place. She blew out a slow breath. “Release.” Her hands clapped and all the creatures went up in a poof of dust, filling the room with a cloud.
I coughed as the grit settled to the floor. Assessing my injuries, I discovered I was actually fine. Not a mark on me. I had felt each and every bite and scratch, but not one of them showed on my skin or clothing. Yet Frost had seen the creatures too. The mounds of dust were proof to that. I scanned the room for my dear mother, but she was gone too—if she had ever been there at all. Either she had slipped back inside or she was as imaginary as the Typhonic beasts were.