Copyright 2018 by Nadine Nightingale
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Editing by Holly M. Kothe with Indie Solutions, www.murphyrae.net
Proofreading by Murphy Rae with Indie Solutions, www.murphyrae.net
Formatting by Elaine York, Allusion Graphics, LLC, www.allusiongraphics.com
Table of Contents
Hall of the Dead
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
The Aftermath
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
The River
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
The Medjay
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
The Tomb of Gua
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
The Book of the Dead
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
The Woods
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
The Truth is a Madhouse
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
The Temple of Life
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Mission: Getting the Girls Back from the Underworld
Chapter 26
The Mountain
Chapter 27
Cleopatra's Needle
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
The Desert
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Book of the Dead
Chapter 34
Lakes of Fire
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Down the Rabbit Hole
Chapter 37
Outer Darkness
Chapter 38
Chamber of Fear
Chapter 39
The Slaughtering Place
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
The Primeval Waters
Chapter 42
Ferryman and Other Underworldly Dilemmas
Chapter 43
Chamber of Judgment
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Osiris's Throne
Chapter 47
A’aru The Field of Reeds
Chapter 48
Izzy
Chapter 49
About the Author
“Two Roads diverged in a wood, and I
took the one less traveled by, and
that makes all the difference.”
—The Joker—
To all the villains, whose heroic stories will never be heard.
Hall of the Dead
Chapter 1
Nisha
Fervid garnet eyes peer back at me.
Those eyes—the conqueror’s, the man of my nightmares—have tormented me for as long as I can remember. They haunt me like the Ghost of Christmas Past. Force me to question my sanity over and over. But—
I’m not insane.
He’s real.
As real as I am.
His eyes mirror all my fears, my hopes, my expectations. And as I stand here, I just know they’ll be my devastation.
One hand on his ripped, tanned stomach, Seth bends at the waist, bowing to me. “My love.” His voice is as sweet as honey, his face as hard as stone. “It’s been too long.”
I neither move nor speak. I stare at him long and hard. He is responsible for the massacre at the Bavarian Inn and everything leading up to that horrendous act.
Amara’s decomposed corpse flickers into view. The scent of burned flesh stings my nostrils. I see the bodies of Shepherdstown’s daughters and sons, floating in a pool of blood. Move through bones and flesh, scattered all over the Bavarian Inn. I remember the flames dancing over me, hear the hawk-like scream that brought grown men to their knees. I flinch at the echo of the gunshot that almost killed the sheriff. It’s like I’m trapped in my worst nightmare, and I just…
Can’t.
Wake.
Up.
A wicked smile tugs at Seth’s lips. “No hello? No friendly word for the man you swore to love forever?” His gaze is intense. Too intense.
Look away, Nisha! Why don’t you look away?
Maybe I’m too numb. Or maybe I’m still trying to make sense of what happened at the annual Halloween Ball. Seth and his crazy-ass fanatics believe I am the incarnation of an Egyptian goddess.
Me, Nisha Blake. The girl who doesn’t believe in gods. How ironic is that?
Then again, yesterday I hadn’t been faced with magic and mayhem. I hadn’t yet opened a portal to the Underworld with an ancient spellbook. Nope, yesterday I whined about my reputation as Shepherdstown’s Angel of Death, drowning in self-pity because people call me a freak. Funny how the events of a few hours can put things in perspective, huh?
Shadows dance over Seth’s high cheekbones. His sun-kissed skin is darker than in my dreams and visions, but his jawline is as hard and unforgiving. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve seen a ghost.”
Hilarious. That’s exactly how I feel.
I stand in front of a ghost of the past, hidden behind a misty veil I cannot lift. The darkness radiating from the specter weakens my knees.
The conqueror inches closer.
I stumble back.
He’s not the man I swore to love forever. The Lord of the Underworld is the hell I revisit. He’s also the reason my friends almost got killed. Because of him, Izzy—
Izzy! Oh. My—
“Where is she?” I find my voice.
Seth crosses his arms, pushing his chest out. “Who?” He knows exactly who but enjoys a game of cat and mouse. I’m the mouse, in case you haven’t figured that out.
“W-where”—stop stammering like an idiot!—“is my cousin?” Last time I saw Izzy, Scar Face had pushed her through the portal into the Underworld. The terror in her eyes won’t ever let me go.
“She’s safe,” he replies, the amusement in his eyes not lost on me. “For now.”
I’m not naïve enough to believe the word of a monster. I scan the place.
Solid gold walls, engraved with thousands of hieroglyphs, surround us. Colorful gemstones—rubies, emeralds, turquoise, and many more—are affixed to the walls.
The ceilings are high. Unreachable. The yellow stone floor is covered with sand. In the midst of the square room looms an obelisk.
Izzy, though, is nowhere to be seen.
Seth approaches me. “Welcome to the Hall of the Dead, my love.”
Hall of the Dead? I’ve heard of this place. It’s supposedly the anchor between the world of the dead and the world of the living. A nimbus of sorts. But wait, don’t you have to be dead to get to the nimbus? Am I? Dead, I mean.
My hands shake violently, but I don’t bother to hide them. Don’t bother to disguise the anger in my voice either. “Where is Izz
y?” I need to see her. Need to make sure she’s okay. Alive.
Seth furrows his brows. “I already told you.” He yawns, bored. “She’s fine.”
“I want to see her.” The confidence in my voice startles us both. Here’s the thing though: when faced with a psychopath, you need to grow a backbone and fast.
Seth laughs dryly. “It seems like you don’t trust me, my love.”
“Trust you?” His fanatical followers killed dozens of people, opened a portal to—I look around—Hell, and pushed my cousin through it. Yeah, sorry. Trust isn’t on the table. Like ever. “You’re responsible for my parents’ deaths, and you have the nerve to question my distrust? What is wrong with you?” I’m aware Seth didn’t pull the trigger. It was my favorite teacher, the man I did trust—Mr. Thornton—who killed them. But he did it so Seth could get the Book of Souls. Which makes him just as guilty as Thornton.
The conqueror sighs heavily. “I never meant to cause you any hurt. You have to believe me when I say I did not ask my soldier to murder your mundane parents.” He pauses. “They were, however, rather uncooperative.”
I shudder at the coldness of this man. “You’re sick.” A sick, cold bastard.
He flashes me his brilliant teeth and closes the gap between us. “I appreciate your hateful words, but it’s time we talk about the Trials.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand tall. The Trials, also known as The Journey Through the Underworld, is an impossible quest. The gods created them so only the worthy would attain eternal life. That’s why Seth wants me to do them. He thinks he can reclaim his immortality if I claim mine. The thing is, one does not simply travel through the Underworld. To succeed, according to myth, one must slay sixty-four demons.
That’s right. Sixty. Four. Demons.
“Nebt-Het, you—”
“Don’t call me that,” I hiss, hands balled into fists. “My name is Nisha. Nisha Blake.”
Seth frowns. “Well, Nisha Blake”—he walks toward the obelisk—“you have twelve hours to make it to the Field of Reeds. Not a lot of time. I suggest we don’t lose any more.”
I won’t do shit unless—
“I want to see Izzy.”
“Later. We need to—”
“No.” I stand my ground, spine straight, head held high. “Now, or I won’t go anywhere.”
“As stubborn as ever,” he mutters, a ghostly smile on his lips.
“Izzy,” I repeat, tapping my foot impatiently.
Seth’s shoulders droop. The Ruler of the Underworld reeks of defeat and frustration, a scent I’d like to bottle as my favorite perfume. “Fine. Have it your way.”
He presses his palm against one of the rubies on the obelisk. The massive gemstone slides back into the sandstone, exposing a secret hideaway. There’s something small and dark inside.
Is that—?
A human-shaped black wax figure is on its knees, arms tied behind their back. He picks it up.
My heart races. I’ve seen one of those figures before. A couple of years ago, Mom and Dad were asked to give a lecture on magic in ancient Egypt at Harvard. Like always, they scattered their notes and books all over the kitchen. One of those old tomes, a leatherbound book titled The Precursor of Voodoo Dolls, immediately caught my attention. I’d been dying to know what ancient Egypt had in common with Voodoo and got my answer when I read the handwritten notes in the tome. Turned out, before there were voodoo dolls, there were black wax figurines. These sinister objects were used to cast spells on the people they represented. Strands of human hair were pushed into the navel of the figure to transfer the essence of the person into the thing. A scrap of papyrus, with the spell on it, was inserted in its back, giving the magician power over his victim. According to the notes of the archeologist who wrote the book, the dolls were mostly used for love spells.
I doubt that’s what Seth uses it for.
Seth focuses on the dark object in his palm and whispers, “Neheh.”
The ground shakes. The hall vibrates. Then vicious winds turn the sand into terrifying tornados.
I shield my eyes, choking on dust.
A dull sound—stone hitting stone—echoes through the hall. Something heavy hits the ground.
When the winds stop raging, and I finally look up… I really wish I hadn’t.
Chapter 2
“I did say she’s fine, did I not?”
Fine? The man is either delusional or crazy! Maybe both.
Izzy is on her knees in a giant hourglass that nearly touches the ceiling, hands tied behind her back, mouth covered with a piece of linen. Her posture mirrors that of the wax figure. Sand ripples through the narrow neck of the construction. It’s just a matter of time until the glass fills and she suffocates.
“You look upset,” he says, smirking.
I’m two seconds from strangling him. I think that exceeds upset. “Are you out of your dang mind?”
“She is alive, isn’t she?”
Alive? Yes. Fine? Hell, no. “Let her out.”
Seth shakes his head.
“Now!”
A stab-worthy smile lifts the edges of his lips. “I will not free her. She”—he winks at Izzy—“is my only bargaining chip. Do you think I’m stupid?”
“Stupid?” I bark. “No, just vile.”
Seth draws a deep breath. “She will be freed if you succeed.”
I’m going to get her out of there. “Izzy!” I hit the construction as hard as I can. “Hold on. I’ll help you.”
“No, you won’t.” Seth sounds bored. Aloof. “Only I command the glass of time. If you want to free her, you will play by my rules. Or—”
“Or what?” The fire, blazing in my belly, turns into dynamite. At any given moment, it’ll detonate, burning this nimbus and Seth to the ground.
Seth’s eyes gleam like stunning rubies. “Easy,” he says, tilting his chin at the green flames crackling all over my skin. “Your powers will burn out quickly here.” I couldn’t care less for his advice. Izzy needs me. That’s all that matters.
Embracing the strength cursing through me, I slam my flaming fists against the hourglass.
“Nebt-Het.” Seth is beside me in a heartbeat. “Stop. You’re—”
“Don’t call me that,” I roar.
I swear, he grins. It’s quick. Gone in an instant. But I can tell he enjoys this far too much. He thrives on the fact I’m about to go off like a bomb. Maybe even wants me to.
Who am I to decline the Lord of the Underworld his wish? “Let her out.” The flames on my skin rise higher, burn brighter.
“I can’t.” There’s a slight tremble in his voice.
“You said you command the glass of time,” I toss his own words back at him. “Command it to let Izzy go.”
“It doesn’t work like that,” he explains calmly. “She’s to remain inside until you complete the Trials. This is the law.”
“Who’s law?” I yell, crazed. I need to know so I can direct my anger at whoever is responsible for my cousin’s misery.
“The law of heka, Nebt—” He cuts himself off, well aware I’m seconds from blowing him to bits and pieces. “What’s done is done. The only way you can help her is by doing the Trials.”
He’s telling the truth, a faint voice in the back of my mind whispers.
I study the monster I’ve grown to despise. His eyes are softer; it almost looks like he’s sorry.
He isn’t lying, that same bloody voice says. She’ll be freed as soon as you finish what you started when you followed her through the portal—the Trials.
The flames on my skin lower until they’re extinguished. As the flames die, so does the energy that kept me going, that filled me with inhuman strength.
My chest tightens. I struggle to breathe.
“I warned you.” Seth catches my elbow before I drop to my knees. “Even the children of Him Who Created Everything lose their heka in the Underworld.” He laughs drily. “Here, everyone’s the same.”
“Everyone
but you,” I choke out, yanking my arm from his grip. His magic is strong in this godforsaken place.
Seth flinches. “Why yes, and I have you and your betrayal to thank for that.”
“I didn’t betray you.” Maybe there is such a thing as reincarnation, and maybe Seth and I met in a previous life, but that does not mean present-me should be held accountable for past-me’s deeds. Besides, Nebt-Het had no choice. Seth was hell-bent on destroying the world. What was she supposed to do?
“I wonder”—he goes for my chin, squeezing it firmly—“do you sleep better, telling yourself those lies?”
I don’t sleep. When I do, Seth haunts my dreams. What’s the point of admitting that, though? It won’t do anyone any good. Not him, not me. Certainly not Izzy.
I glimpse Izzy’s pale face. Her eyes are wide, and she is trembling. A past I have no memory of becomes irrelevant. She’s all that matters. “Please. Don’t leave her here like this. I’ll do whatever you want.”
Tears run freely. Seth flinches at the sight. He steps back, the figurine shaking in his hand. “You always did love her most.” There’s no hostility in his voice. He’s merely stating a fact.
He glares at the wax figure in his palm. Sand counts the silent seconds as it falls through the narrow neck onto Izzy. After half an eternity, Seth pulls the linen off the figure’s mouth and unties her hands. “That’s all I can do for now.”
She’s still trapped, but she’s no longer restrained in that cruel posture. “Nisha!” The glass dampens the sound of her voice. “Don’t do it.” She shoots Seth a killer look. “He’s using you. You can’t trust him.”
Seth looks at my cousin murderously. “Don’t make me regret taking the gag off.”
Izzy wouldn’t be Izzy if she caved. The girl is a natural-born fighter. Doesn’t take shit from anyone, even if that someone happens to be the ruler of the Underworld.
“Izzy?” I press my palms against the glass, hoping to stop her before she says something we’ll both regret.
She looks at me. “Nisha, you—”
“Do you trust me?”
She blinks. “Of course.” I can basically hear the Duh. Do you really have to ask?
I inch closer, my nose touching the cool glass. “You have to let me do this. I promise I won’t fail you. I’ll get you out of there.” Even if it’s the last thing I do.
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