Book of the Dead (Gods of Egypt 2)

by Nadine Nightingale

  The walls inside are covered with depictions of farmers working their fields, old and long forgotten customs, as well as religious rituals, and abandoned burial practices. According to my dad, the inscriptions and texts were decisive when it came to researching Egyptian language and grammar. It’s fair to say the mighty colossuses aren’t simply part of Egypt’s heritage, they are Egypt’s heritage.

  I almost forgot Seth’s presence, but the conqueror reminds me. “We have to hurry. Twelve caverns in twelve hours is doable, but one cannot waste time.”

  A blazing fireball is sitting on the tip of the largest pyramid, casting a massive shadow over the Nile. It must be around noon. By midnight, I’ll either have reclaimed Seth’s immortality, or I’ll be dead. Judging by what I see—the river, the endless stretch of sand and no-man’s land—I opt for deader than dead.

  Seth catches my frustration. “What is it?”

  “I don’t think I’ll make it to the Field of Reeds in time,” I admit.

  “Yes, you will.” The man never hesitates, I have to give him that. “Time, in my world, moves differently.”

  “Different how?” If he says an hour down here is a minute in my world, I might as well drown myself in the Nile.

  He walks to the water. “One Underworld hour equals one mundane day.”

  A spark of hope ignites in my belly. “So I have twelve days?” It’s still a tight time frame but way better than twelve hours.

  “Twelve mundane days to conquer the Underworld.” He looks up. “To defeat its demons, along with your own, and reclaim our immortality.”

  I should be happy. Grateful. Why the hell am I disappointed, then?

  I drink it all in—the kingdom of sand and dust, the scorching sun blistering my skin, and Seth, man of my nightmares and now my guide. It hits me then: twelve days in this godforsaken place with him might be more than I can handle. Then there’s Izzy. She’ll be a prisoner for as long as this journey takes. Captured in an hourglass, all alone, not sure if the sand will kill her.

  Seth studies me closely, his almond-shaped garnet eyes not missing a beat. “You look pale.” He strolls over the black slit, approaching me slowly. “Are you feeling sick?”

  The prospect of what’s to come flips a switch I didn’t know was hard-wired into me. Nisha the bully victim, the girl who allowed others to walk all over her, is gone, replaced by someone who doesn’t shy away from a fight. “What do you care?” My voice is alien and harsh. “I’m just the chick you need to get your stupid immortality back. So stop pretending you give a rat’s ass about me.”

  A nasty, red rash covers his sculpted face. “I don’t care,” he shoots back, trembling with anger. “Not anymore I don’t.”

  Conflicted and twisted is what I am. Don’t agitate him. You need him. He’s my guide, the guy who can get me get out of this mess alive. It’s a shame my heart has taken control, because it doesn’t give a shit about consequences.

  I stand tall, arms crossed like a shield. “As if you ever did.”

  Seth looks at me as if I’m the one who burned his world to the ground and scattered the ashes across an endless field of pain.

  He’s suddenly in my face. “I always cared, Princess.”

  He never called you Princess, a faint voice whispers in my ear. To him you’ve always been more than a title. You’ve been his everything.

  Seth inches closer. So much so, if I breathe, our lips will lock in a kiss. “It was you who broke her promise. Not me, Princess.”

  Whoever Seth once was to me—my lover, my friend, my everything—he’s no longer that person. In this life we’re enemies, and it would be good to remember that. “How about”—I look him straight in the eye—“you stop blaming everyone else and take responsibility for what you did?”

  He searches my face. For what, I’m not sure. The girl he used to know? A specter of a long-forgotten past, residing somewhere in the depths of my broken soul?

  The wind picks up speed, and the Nile grows restless. Waves crash on the shore. White foam covers the emerald surface.

  Seth’s dark voice slices through the quiet. “Unless you want to face the Desert by night”—he points at the sun, hovering over the tallest pyramid—“we have to get going.”

  I don’t want to face the Desert. Period.

  I just don’t have a choice. I swallow the anger, imprisoning my heart, and remind myself why I’m doing this in the first place. For Izzy— a cousin who’s more like a sister, a girl who stood by my side, protecting me from everything life tossed at me.

  “Fine.” I’m still fuming, but I bottle some of the wrath. “What do I have to do?” The sooner we get this over with, the better.

  “I already told you.” He gets out of my face, giving me room to breathe. “The first step is to locate the map.”

  I gesture at the vast land. “Point the way, guide.”

  He looks left. “El-Bersheh is that way.”

  I eye my new sneakers, hope they were made for walking, and move.

  “Hey!” Seth hauls me back. “Where do you think you’re going?” His scorching touch sends unpleasant waves of electricity through my heart.

  I yank my arm free, willing my pulse to slow the heck down. He’s the enemy, I yell at my stupid heart. THE ENEMY!

  “Nisha?”

  I ignore the shivers his voice causes. “Huh?”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” I jog his memory. “The map. You said it’s that way.”

  “And you think”—he grins—“you can walk to El-Bersheh?”

  “Do you have a better idea?” I don’t suppose they have public transportation or Uber in the Underworld.

  “You can certainly walk.” His silly grin intensifies. “If you wish to be killed by sand creatures and eaten by Ammut.”

  Can I get away with murder in the Underworld? Probably. But who’d lead me through Hell if I kill him now? “Okay, smartass.” I squint. “Why don’t you stop acting like a jerk and guide me?” Why else am I putting up with him?

  He dismisses my pick-a-fight attitude. “The only way to get to El-Bersheh is by boat.”

  Sand and water. Pyramids and trees. Definitely no boat.

  “I don’t see—”

  He grabs my chin, jerking it toward the river. “Look closer, Princess.”

  The water lies as still as a sleeping cobra. Its smooth curves seem endless. Light cuts through the surface, changing the color from deep green to light brown. Then a ghostly mist ascends from the water. It’s so dense I can’t see a foot ahead. It approaches at lightning speed, obscuring the twists of the river and soon the whole shore.

  Icy chills slice through my backbone, forcing my heart into overdrive. “What the—”

  The fog parts, like a row of soldiers, paving the way for their commander. A boat about eighty-five feet long, with a narrow stern and prows, emerges. The light wood, cedar or timber, floats with such grace it reminds me of kings and queens, dancing to one of Beethoven’s sweetest symphonies.

  I’m equally amazed and creeped out. “Please don’t tell me I have to board Ghost Ship.” Izzy and I watched that movie a dozen times. I’m well acquainted with the fate of those who boarded the cursed ship. Most died a vicious death. I’m talking being drowned in a fish tank and crushed under the ship’s gear.

  Seth casts me a confused sidelong glance. “By no means is that a ghost ship.”

  Mental note: rulers of the Underworld don’t speak pop culture.

  “What you’re looking at,” he continues, “is the Ferry of the Underworld. And to answer your question, yes, you will have to board it if you want to reach the tomb of Gua.”

  “Whatever,” I mutter. “But just so you know, if someone tells me to scuba dive, I’ll swim to the tomb.”

  He looks at me funny. He can’t seem to make sense of what I’m saying. That’s okay. I was just messing with him anyway. If you can’t walk to the tomb, you surely can’t swim. Unless you’re a Navy Seal. And I�
�m not.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” he replies seriously. “The water is alive. I highly doubt you’d like to make acquaintance with its soul.”

  I shake like an earthquake of magnitude seven. My feet, and my treacherous heart, are ready to bolt. But I can’t turn my back on Izzy, will never betray her trust no matter how scared I am.

  “Whatever you do,” he whispers as the boat reaches the shore, “don’t be rude. He abhors rudeness.”

  Who the heck is he? Actually, forget I asked. I really don’t want to know. But what I want and what I get…two different pairs of shoes.

  The monstrous boat is so close, I spot the thick planks that have been lashed together by rope fed through mortises. The seams between them are caulked with reeds. About thirty shirtless men, wearing black eyeliner and grim expressions, row relentlessly. Their gazes are glued to—

  Holy Mother of Christ. What the hell is this thing?

  “Relax,” Seth whispers.

  There’s a ram-headed dude with the torso of a man standing on the prow, for crying out loud, and I’m supposed to relax? What a joker the Lord of the Underworld is.

  Sharp, charcoal-colored eyes are trained on me. The creature neither looks friendly nor pleased to see me.

  “W-what is that thing?” I stammer, trying to keep my composure.

  “Didn’t I tell you not to be rude?” Seth hisses.

  “I’m not.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Calling him a thing is nice, then?”

  Well, if he puts it that way, I guess I was rude.

  The ram-headed thing gets off the boat, moving toward us with long, impressive strides. “Who dares to call for me?” he or it or whatever roars.

  Like the coward I am, I freeze.

  The gigantic creature—as scary and brawny as Anubis himself—is right in front of me, so close I can smell its rotten breath. “I asked you a question.” He sounds angry, bordering on crazy.

  Seth nudges me. “Answer him.”

  I clear my throat, hiding my shaking fingers behind my back. “I… I….” Jesus, form a sentence, Nisha. “I did.”

  “And who are you?” Ram Man crosses his arms, eyeing me suspiciously. “Surely you have a name?”

  I stumble back, in dire need of some space, some…a lot of distance.

  “Speak,” he demands.

  I would, if only my jaw weren’t clenched so tight. I’m a little worried about the fate of my teeth.

  “Just tell him your name,” Seth whispers, growing twitchy.

  I gather my courage. “N-nisha, N-nisha B-blake.”

  The creature narrows its eyes, studying me, assessing me. I’m fairly certain he or it can see right into my soul. It would explain why I feel naked and exposed, like a skeleton without skin.

  “Lord.” Ram Man bows to Seth. “Why would you allow such dishonesty?”

  Is he insinuating I’m a—

  “Hey! Are you calling me a liar?” The words pop right out of my mouth. Hello, voice. Happy you made it back. Maybe you could be a bit nicer, though? The creature is mad enough.

  The thing shoots me a blood-curdling look. “You are, Princess.”

  Here we go again with the Princess nonsense. I’m real tired of that shit. “My name is Nisha Blake,” I repeat sternly. “And if you don’t believe me, that’s your problem, not mine.”

  Ram Man squints. Any second he’s going to unleash a tornado on me. I can feel it in my bones. Except—

  Harsh laughter ripples through my gut. “As feisty as always, Princess Nebt-Het.” He drops his hands to his sides, steps back, and bows to me. “How can I assist you, my lady?”

  “Be nice,” Seth warns again.

  This time I listen to my guide. “I need to get to El-Bersheh.”

  Ram Man stands taller than the Empire State Building. His penetrating pupils fill his eye sockets, never leaving my face. “El-Bersheh.” He draws the word out. “And what is it you seek there, my lady?”

  “A tomb,” I reply quickly.

  “There are many.” An imperious hand gesture follows. “Be more specific.”

  “Gua’s tomb,” I explain.

  Ram Man’s eyes widen in surprise. “Lord, is this what I think it is? Is she here to do the Trials?”

  Seth shrugs one shoulder. “It appears so.”

  Ram Man shakes his head frantically. “But you know what—”

  “Kherty!” Seth’s voice makes the sand tremble with fear. “Mind your tongue, or I will be forced to remind you who you serve.”

  Kherty steps back,his black eyes, clouded with a swirl-wind of unreadable emotions. “Lord.” He bows once more. “Please accept my apologies. It is, of course, not my place to warn you of the dreadful consequences of such a venture.”

  “Dreadful consequences?” I parrot, shooting a look at Seth. “What is he talking about?”

  He ignores me. I might as well be air. “Just continue,” he orders Kherty.

  “As you wish, my lord.” He returns his attention to me. “You want to cross the river?”

  After what I just heard? I don’t know. Do I?

  “Princess,” he says gently. “Speak up. I’m not at liberty to waste time. Souls must be transported and”—he ogles the sun—“the enemy must be fought.”

  My mind drifts back to Izzy and her sandy prison. Everything else pales in comparison. “Yes,” I assure him. “I want to cross the river.”

  “Well then”—he points at the boat—“hop on, my lady. It shall be my genuine pleasure to help you reach your destination.”

  I am moving in the boat’s direction when Kherty seizes hold of my hand. “I almost forgot. You need to pay first.”

  No one mentioned payment. “I don’t have any money.” It’s not like I left the house last night, knowing I’d be going to the Underworld, where some creepy ram-headed ferryman would require payment to presumably take me to my death.

  “Sorry.” He turns away. “No pay, no ferry.”

  I search Seth’s face for help. Silly me. “Now what?” I ask as my guide stands there, motionless.

  Considering his immortality is at stake, he’s pretty calm. “There’s got to be something you can offer him,” he says, sounding bored.

  What, though? My torn jeans? Yeah, I don’t think they’d fit. Neither would my sneakers or my bloody shirt.

  Come on, Nisha, think, or this journey will be over before it gets started.

  I could—

  Nah, he wouldn’t—

  But maybe—

  Impossible—

  What the heck? It’s not like I have anything else.

  “Wait,” I shout.

  He looks over his shoulder. “Did you change your mind, Princess?”

  “I have.” I just hope he likes what I’m selling.

  Chapter 9

  I made it onto the ferryman’s boat that’s steered by ghostly men with bare chests. Soft waves crash against the wood as I sit across from Kherty and pay my fare.

  The ram-headed creature digs his elbows into his thighs, leaning closer. “Hm, Lux. I have never heard of such a place, my lady.” He scratches his horns. His dark eyes meet mine. “I really haven’t.”

  I laugh, amused by the scary creature’s love for Jennifer L. Armentrout’s alien story. “It’s just a story,” I explain. “Fiction, you know. Lux isn’t really a planet.” At least, I don’t think it is. Our galaxy is far bigger than the human mind could ever comprehend. There might as well be a Daemon Black out there. Possibly a whole civilization of Luxens.

  Kherty gapes at me, somewhat shaken. “You said it was written in a book, didn’t you?”

  “It’s a whole bunch of books called the Lux series.” Whoever claims reading is a waste of time better take notice it was a book I read and loved that bought me a ticket across the river of the Underworld. I didn’t think Kherty would go for it. I assumed he was used to money and jewels, but when I offered to tell him a story as compensation for taking me to El-Bersheh, he didn’t hesitate. His eyes gleame
d with excitement. He couldn’t get me on board fast enough.

  “I don’t understand.” He looks me in the eye. “The written word is sacred—ma’at. How could anyone use it to spread lies?” Ma’at isn’t just the goddess of justice. In ancient Egypt, people lived by ma’at—truth and justice.

  “A fictional story is not a lie,” I counter. “It’s an escape.”

  “From what?” he asks, curious.

  “Pain, sorrow, boredom.” I shrug. “Pick your poison.”

  “How very peculiar.” He shifts closer to the edge of his wooden seat. “Where I’m from, books were meant to enlighten humanity, to guide them, and impose the wisdom of the gods on them.”

  “Yeah.” I smile at him. “We have those kinds of books, too. The Bible, the Qu’ran, the Gita.” I sigh heavily. “Even the Satanic Bible.” The last one I only laid eyes on once. Amara had acquired a first edition for a collector, and just looking at the black book with the red pentagram on the cover gave me chills.

  He considers my statement for a moment and says, “What about the Book of Two Ways, the Book of Souls, or the Book of the D—”

  “Kherty!” Seth cuts him off. He’s been keeping his distance, lounging on the other side of the boat, all grumpy and bored as usual. I almost forgot he’s still here.

  Kherty rises. “Lord.” And again with the bowing. “How can I assist?”

  Seth casts me a quick glance, then reverts to ignoring me completely. “A word?”

  “Of course.” Kherty smiles at me. It makes him look less monstrous. “I’ll be with you in an instant. Must know if that Katy girl will uncover the truth about her neighbor.” I think I like the Ferryman.

  Kehrty and Seth meet on the other side of the boat. I don’t mean to pry, but it’s hard not to catch the heated discussion between the ferryman and my guide. Both look mad and slightly berserk.

  Since I can’t hear a thing they’re saying, I take in my surrounding. I was so preoccupied with the storytelling, I didn’t have time to look around.

  The Nile snakes through the arid land like a lazy python. It seems endless. The water is calm, but oddly enough it appears split in the center. One half is the most beautiful azure I’ve ever seen. The other is a muddy, dark brown that’d give sewers a run for their money. The colors battle each other, trying to gain the upper hand.