by Jean Murray
He nodded. “We have two entering their cycle. Their transition should occur within the next fourteen days. If we leave now, we should be settled in the new location to handle their maturational changes.”
“Prepare to leave within the week. I have another to retrieve off the streets.”
He stared across the steel bars, careful to hide his annoyance. “Why wait? It should take you no more than a few hours to track the youngling. We have fifty able hands to pack by tomorrow morning.”
“I need to check into Henry’s sighting. If it’s hostile, I will terminate it. We cannot risk it following us.”
“That loon of a human told you he saw something? What exactly—fairies, unicorns? How can you trust anything he says?”
“He has not been wrong, thus far.” She pushed the hose back through after filling the trough.
“I prefer to trust your instincts over some mentally-ill human.” Siya had an extrasensory gift for all things evil. It had served them well over the years. He hated to admit it, but based on her recent agitation, the human may not be far off the mark. “What are we dealing with exactly?”
She met his gaze across the steel girder. “Henry stated he saw the devil. Large like us. Black skin.”
“A siravant?” Memories of millenniums past filtered into his mind. The second plague, if Siya’s theory was correct. Apep’s minions. Recruiters for the dark master. “How could they gain access to this world? That portal was sealed during the war.” To his surprise she broke eye contact. She was hiding something. He had seen that look once before, which surfaced another memory. One other possibility. One Siya needed to stay as far away from as possible.
“I do not know, but I intend to find out,” she said with her back turned.
“With two of us working, we can finish it off the same night. No need to linger.” If he could find and destroy the warrior first, Siya would never be the wiser.
“You will not be going, but remain here to protect the base. When I return, we leave.”
* * *
Siya assessed Theris as he exited the door. It was wrong of her to keep dragging him along this journey. She had tried to release him from duty before, but he refused to leave. Honestly, she had few friends in this world. All but him abandoned her after her exile. Out of guilt and her own loneliness, she had given into his advances, thinking she could grow to love him. No matter how she tried to convince herself, her heart remained cold and empty.
She received a nudge from behind, interrupting her self-recrimination. Execution greeted her with a warm muzzle when she turned. “Hey, boy.” She rubbed her cheek against his black velvety nose. Bigger problems loomed over her than her relationship with Theris. Since they had discovered the reven’s nest, the prickling against her skin had yet to subside and had worsened in Menthu’s presence.
“You feel it too, don’t you?” She met the horse’s red eyes. He flicked his ears forward and jerked his head up. His answer came out as a snort.
“You hate being trapped here.” She petted his broad neck and long mane. The coat had thickened with the change of seasons, dulling its ebony shine. She grabbed the brush and ran it down the stallion’s back. “Ready to ride tonight? Stretch those legs of yours.”
After brushing, she pressed her ear to his massive ribcage. She closed her eyes and listened to the steady breathing. The whoosh of air and the rise and fall of the horse’s chest calmed her. Her father’s visitation dredged up memories she would rather forget. She glanced out the door to the room filled with adolescent males. Despite being surrounded by others, her isolation weighed heavier on her soul.
Was her father right? Was she amassing her own army? Was she doing this only because it was in her blood to conquer?
Menthu’s words made her second guess her motivations. She had found the first youngling over a century ago when she arrived to North America. Every location she found more discarded younglings, especially in recent years. She hated to see them suffer on the streets needlessly, unwanted and alone. Not unlike her.
She swore to herself she would make the most of this prison sentence. So many years she had inflicted death on the battlefield, exploited her darker side, taking the lives of their enemies for the good of the Pantheon. Only after her exile did she explore the lighter side of her soul.
The gifts of her mother had strength and value but caused Siya significant stress. Her darker thoughts were more readily available, well-conditioned and practiced pathways. It warred with the positive, more spiritual side. The duplicity repelled the other, often ripping her soul in two.
She squeezed her eyes shut and gripped her chest. Could her mother have seen Menthu differently than everyone else? Fallen in love with him? The Mother Goddess had always said love had no bounds. Siya had very little faith in love. But, if Menthu and her mother were mates, then the Protector gods had lied to her.
Anger spurred her resolve to find the truth. Her questions would be answered.
She saddled Execution and tightened his girth strap. Holding onto his reins she opened the paddock gate. “Let us visit an old friend, shall we?”
Chapter Seven
Bomani groaned and jerked up from the floor. Despite the chill of the night, his skin continued to burn on the inside. His fit-filled sleep succeeded in draining more of his energy. He dug in his fingers and scratched his scalp in a failed attempt to relieve the pain and haunting visions.
His predecessor’s memories usually assisted Bomani for tactical purposes. Now, they only reminded him of what he lost.
He would not allow himself to dwell on the male he had been because that warrior would have surrendered to his father and faced his punishment. Instead, he ran. He did not trust his instincts anymore.
How could he be so wrong about so many things? His brother’s quest for honor. Kendra’s feelings towards Bakari and not him. The last of which burned harder and deeper.
He forced himself to sit back down. This new calling would bring him more disappointment. He wanted to stay hidden. Traipsing around New York on Bast’s quest would end badly or worse, she would demand her final payment. Something he did not want to experience.
Furious, he slammed his fist through the cinder block, favoring physical pain over the emotional parasite burrowing through his chest. He drew in his energy and rematerialized on the city streets, a block from a food establishment. Intent on taking what he needed to feed his empty stomach, he stalked towards a very unlucky street vendor.
The man’s eyes widened and he backed away from the cart. Bomani ignored the cellphone the vendor pulled from his coat and snatched the food off the top of the grill. A sideward glare and flash of fangs sent the man running down the street. Without honor regulating his choices, things came much easier.
No rules. No boundaries. No guilt.
The small staples did little to calm his hunger. He glanced around at the few humans that scurried down the street, giving him a wide berth. Their souls flickered brightly, beckoning him. He clenched his fists. A fine tremor set to his bones. His soul craved the energy, like heroin for the drug addicts he had seen on the streets. He snatched the arm of a human straying too close. His entire body trembled with the desire to rip the living energy from the human’s soul.
He shoved the man away. Despite his want of it, his vow never to hurt humans burned hotter than his hunger.
A clap of thunder rippled across the blue-black sky and drew his eyes upward. A bolt of energy shot up into the heavens. Grateful for the distraction, he targeted the source in the distance and dematerialized. He reappeared on the docks, not far from his accommodations.
The wooden planks rumbled beneath his feet, kicking up the dirt and dancing it across its surface. A deep battle cry pierced the night air. Bomani narrowed his gaze on an enormous dark shape in the distance. The wood groaned and creaked as the massive beast and its cloaked rider bore down on him. Bomani stared in disbelief as flashes of the horse and its master sped beneath the street lamps.
The horse’s sinewy body came into focus while the dark cape concealed the rider’s identity. Pounding waves of energy slammed into Bomani’s chest and arced currents of electricity across his skin. He staggered back as his answers rocketed towards him.
A flash of light ignited behind Bomani’s back, yanking him off his feet towards the opening portal. The stallion leapt, slammed into Bomani and threw him back through the gateway under the horse’s hooves.
He smashed into the hard sand and rolled, barely missing being crushed by the thousand pound animal. The horse’s underbelly flashed into view before a hoof cracked against Bomani’s head. Unable to right himself, he stared at the hindquarters of the horse speeding down a beach.
Wiping the blood from his brow, he scanned the surroundings. A large barren coastline stretched out before him. Black sand welcomed the warm waves lapping the shoreline. Volcanic mountains stretched heavenward. They had traveled to an intermediate realm. One he had not seen before, yet it held some familiarity.
Bomani rose to his feet and stared down the beach. His destiny resided at the end of the long trail of hoof prints.
Chapter Eight
A thousand pounds of power surged beneath Siya on the moonlit beach. Execution galloped, his long legs kicking up sand and water behind them. He had faltered exiting the portal, but regained his rhythm. Exhilaration flowed through her and fed power into her steed. Bonded as one at birth, the animal would serve only one master.
The impact of the heavy hooves resonated through Siya’s bones. Loosening the reins, she felt Execution stretch forward. The snorts of breath from the horse matched the cadence of his strides. Veering into the water, the salty sea sprayed around them.
Close to their destination, she tugged the reins and pushed him into the shoulder high surf to maneuver around the jagged rocks. The warm water penetrated her boots and cargo pants. The stallion did not hesitate, his feet sure. As she leaned forward, his powerful hind legs thrust his chest out of the water to climb the sandbar.
Haru, one of the four Protector gods, had remained impartial during her hearing. He did not defend her actions, but he did not condemn her either. She surmised he had his own secrets that would be unfavorable if revealed. Having not spoken in over five hundred years, she was surprised he had answered her request to meet—the very reason her weapon was not in its sheath, but tucked close to her thigh. Besides Theris, she trusted no one.
A white flash of energy sizzled in the night air, announcing Haru’s arrival. Execution reared up on his back legs and clawed the air with his front hooves. His ears lay straight back over his mane. She patted his neck. “Easy boy. We are here to see him, not kill him.”
The horse dropped back on all fours. Siya dismounted, sure to keep ahold of the reins. Execution was not just a name. “Haru.” She inclined her head, not willing to take her eyes off the god to perform the customary bow.
“Siya.” He returned the gesture but eyed her sword. “Is that necessary?”
“That depends. Are we alone?” She scanned their surroundings.
“Do you think I would risk having the others know I have been in contact with you?”
“I suppose not,” she said before stowing her sword to her back. She pulled Execution over to a large tree and tied his reins to the thick branch. Not that it would hold him, but the command she gave him would. “Stay put.” She turned back to the Protector god and pulled back her hood.
Haru inhaled sharply. “The years have softened my memories. I forgot how much you look like your mother. Absolutely beautiful.”
“Do not bother to pacify my temper with flattery. We both know you do not prefer me or my mother, but something of more substance.”
“Perhaps, but that does not mean I do not appreciate true beauty, no matter the gender.” He smiled. “Why have you summoned me?”
“Bast lied to me. You all did. Why?” She paced the patch of black sand, her anger threatening to erupt.
“Lie?”
She stopped and glared at him. “The circumstances behind my mother and father.”
“We did not lie.” He crossed his well-muscled arms over his robed chest with the air of indignation.
“Bullshit,” she spat and jabbed her finger at him. “You lied to me. Damn it, you were her best friend. Are you going to stand there and deny it?”
Haru winced. “Where is this coming from? I do not see you for over five centuries, and you call to accuse me of lying? Putting us at risk?”
“Correction—you! You at risk.” The arrogance. She regretted stowing her sword.
“What has happened?” He stepped forward, his eyes narrowed.
“What has happened?” Siya gasped. “It does not matter or change the fact—you lied!”
“Menthu has been in contact with you.” His mouth dropped open, and the color of his skin went from pale to white. “What did he want?”
“What do you think he wanted?” she growled.
His eyes widened further. “You mustn’t.”
“Tell me why you lied.” She leveled her stare. There were few males she had to look up to. Haru was not one of them.
He stepped back. “Listen, there are matters you are not fully aware of. The Council decided—”
“Decided it was in my best interest to make me believe I was a product of rape? That my mother could not stand to raise the offspring of a monster? How and in what light does that sound right to you?”
“Your mother broke the law. She defied the council and pursued her relationship with Menthu.”
“What law did she break, exactly?”
“Menthu is an abomination. He is tainted. Impure.”
“Impure, like me. Half Creation. Half Underworld.”
“You are very different. You were raised by us.”
She tipped her head back and laughed. “And yet, it still does not erase what I am and always will be in the eyes of the Creations.” A monster.
“You are not your father.”
“No?” The only difference between her and her father was that her killings were sanctioned by law. Blood still ran red no matter who wielded the sword.
“Menthu’s base nature is darkness. He has done unforgiveable things,” Haru pleaded.
“Before or after you took my mother from him? Gods, Haru. They were mated.” Absence did not make the heart grow fonder. Bonded souls demanded to be together. If denied, depression and insanity ensued.
“I know.” Haru frowned.
“Did they kill her?” Her voice cracked. Gods, if it was true she would make them pay. Her father’s hatred resonated in her soul. How easy it would be to become him.
“No, she was in so much pain. Suffering beyond measure. She begged me,” he whispered.
“You helped her.” Siya jerked from his reach, hating and loving him. Haru had worshiped her mother. According to the Mother Goddess, he had never left her side and was there for Siya’s birth. Even after her mother’s death, Haru had always been kind to Siya when others had little tolerance for her childhood temper tantrums. Could she condemn him for his actions? Actions she knew all too well herself.
Haru grabbed her hand and tightened it when she tried to pull away. “She knew what would happen to Menthu in her absence. If the separation was too much for her to bear, he had no chance. She loved him and would do anything to be with him. She went to the one place she knew he would end up.”
Siya’s heart ached for a tragedy that should have never happened. Bitterness consumed her soul. “He will be there soon, but not before taking the Creation Pantheon with him.” She snapped her hand back and retracted out of his reach.
He pursued her. “You cannot let that happen.”
“Let that happen?” Siya chuckled darkly. “Why do I care what happens to a Pantheon that has no tolerance
for me? An impure bastard child. You can all choke on your hypocrisy for all I care. You stood by idly as the reven curse spread through the human realm. While Apep’s darkness filled the void of your incompetence. Menthu is your problem. You—created him through your lies and deceit. Made my mother suffer. Made me suffer.”
He ran his hand through his thick golden strands. “I do not disagree with you, but they will not listen.”
“Grow a set of balls, Haru.”
“Not everyone has your strength. I have kept my promise to your mother to keep you alive. I am the reason your stay of execution has remained in place. Unlike you, I have something to lose if they discover my secret.”
She already had lost everyone and everything that mattered. The very reason she was exiled. Maybe Menthu was right, she was like her mother. Doomed to make the same mistakes. “We all make sacrifices. Some of us more than others.”
He dropped his arms at his sides. “The Creation council has lost sight of our true course. The Mother Goddess needs gods who know and appreciate what is at stake and are willing to fight to save humanity. Mother has made arrangements to correct our course and to make things better for gods like you and me.”
“Can she conjure miracles?” Siya quipped.
“Apparently so. Asar has wed her daughter.”
Siya laughed and shook her head. “You think me a fool? The Mother Goddess has many children, but not of her own blood.”
“You must trust me on this. Three females of human blood are being protected by the God of the Underworld himself. Two have already transitioned to their demi-god forms.”
“Trust you?” She glared at him, stunned at such bold-faced lies. Now he wanted her to believe the Mother Goddess broke the most ancient of laws—siring demi-gods.
“They are the key to the cursed. The key to destroying Apep.”
Siya raised her hands, silencing him. “Stop. I will hear no more of this.” Even if they did exist, a demi-god had no chance against Apep. Siya had been there at the final siege. Although victorious, she had lost three quarters of the legions in the battle. “Humans have no place in a war among gods.