Book of the Dead (Gods of Egypt 2)

by Nadine Nightingale

  “Nebt-Het,” the light whispers. “It’s time.”

  “For w—”

  The light swirls around me like a tornado. It moves so fast, I’m dizzy just looking at it. I try to find a fixed spot to keep my eyes on, but it’s too late. My knees give way, my head pounds, and a moment later I see—

  A temple, surrounding a garden with a blooming tree, growing jewels as leaves.

  A cave hiding a large blue diamond.

  An oasis in a vast desert wasteland.

  A lake of fire protected by an invisible creature howling at the moon.

  Darkness in it the stench of putrefaction and death.

  A chamber with a bloody throne.

  A dark watery domain of unlimited depth.

  A scale, and on it a feather and a heart.

  Another throne, empty but warm.

  And then—

  My parents.

  “Follow your heart,” the light says before it returns to the coffin and the lid slams shut.

  I’m shaking. Why won’t my hands stop shaking?

  Seth is beside me. “You can do this.”

  Can I, though? We’ll find out at our next destination.

  Into The Woods we go.

  The Book of the Dead

  Chapter 16

  Blaze

  “This is bullshit.” Oz pushes his laptop across the table.

  When he’s right….

  Hours have slipped away since we left Ethel, since I faced disappointed looks because my bad trip didn’t get us any closer to finding the girls. I told them what I saw. None of them, including myself, had an aha moment. I feel like a bloody failure.

  We aren’t any closer to finding The Book of the Dead unless you count knowing Nebt-Het’s priestesses had hidden it. Mara and Ethel thought I’d see more. The only person who hasn’t given up yet is Kathy. She insisted we return to the Red Shed to engage in some good old research while she checked in with the Sheriff’s Station.

  Kathy is still gone, and we aren’t any closer to finding that damn book. All we have is a stupid vision and the Internet. There are about a million different myths about Nebt-Het and Seth. Not a single one mentions a hidden book, let alone The Book of the Dead.

  Shaggy runs a tired hand through his disheveled hair. “He’s right, you know?” He glances at Oz. “We won’t—”

  “Find what we’re looking for online,” Scooby finishes, twin style. “Not with so little to go on.”

  A stab of guilt pricks my heart. Why didn’t I see something useful, considering I’m secretly in love with the woman of a man turned god, who happens to be my best friend? We need that stupid book, and we need it now.

  “I don’t know what else to do,” I admit.

  Oz drops his face in his hands. “It’s hopeless.”

  Shaggy jumps up. “We’re going to get them back.” Good god, he sounds so convincing I almost believe him.

  “How?” Oz grumbles. “How are we going to get them back when we have no clue how to get to them?”

  Scooby leans back. Legs crossed, he assesses each of us, then focuses on me. “Maybe we missed something.” His eyes are distant, lost in thought. “I mean, that Anubis guy did say you’ve got the tools to find her, didn’t he?”

  I nod.

  “Well.” He draws in a deep breath. “Tell us again what you saw.”

  I frown. “I already told you. Twice.” I’d rather not make it three times. My heart, I’m sure, can’t cope with all the emotion striking every time I think back to a past that still feels like the present.

  “Thrice is a charm,” Shaggy counters.

  “Fine.” I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans and tell them about the mighty Medjay who fell I love with his best friend’s girl. I add every little detail, just to make sure we don’t miss anything crucial.

  “Hm.” Scooby rubs his chin. “Interesting.”

  “What?” we say in unison.

  “The obelisk,” Scooby says.

  Shaggy cocks a brow. “I’m sorry, bro, I haven’t had a smoke in ages. My brain hurts, I’m grumpy and tired. I’d very much appreciate it if you could elaborate on your one-word theory.”

  Scooby rolls his eyes. At his brother’s weed reference? Maybe. Probably. “The obelisk is a constant.” He waits for the lights to go on. When they don’t, he adds, “It was in almost every vision, wasn’t it? One vision was directly related to the book we’re looking for.”

  “So?” Oz is close to pulling his hair out. “Could be a coincidence.”

  Could be, but the obelisk always loomed in the background.

  “I think he might be on to something. When Nebt-Het—”

  “You mean Nisha,” Shaggy corrects me.

  No, I mean Nebt-Het, because that’s who she was back then. I don’t bother to explain. We’ve got more important things to deal with. “When she told me the book was safe, she looked directly at the obelisk.”

  “You think the book is hidden in that obelisk?” Oz doesn’t sound convinced.

  “Maybe.” It’s the best I can do for now.

  “Okay, let’s say you’re right.” Shaggy meets my gaze. “Let’s assume the book is in that obelisk. Who says it’s still there, and how on earth do we know which obelisk we’re looking for? Last time I checked, obelisks were a thing in ancient Egypt.”

  “I had no idea you were into history,” Scooby teases.

  Shaggy waves him off. “I’ve been best friends with two crazy history geeks since kindergarten.” He casts Scooby a dark glance. “Believe it or not, I tend to listen to the shit my friends tell me.”

  Scooby’s smirk tells me he’s not done with poor Shaggy, but Oz isn’t in the mood for sibling rivalry. “Shaggy is right. We have no clue if the book is still there or which obelisk we’re looking for. Besides, all of this is just a theory. What if—”

  “I’d recognize it,” I say.

  It doesn’t take long until Oz realizes we don’t have anything else to go on. It’s either a wild goose chase or sitting around, waiting for…. I don’t even want to go there. He pulls his laptop closer. “It’s worth a shot.”

  “There’s one more thing we could try,” Scooby says, suspiciously avoiding Oz’s gaze.

  “Spill it, bro.” Shaggy’s patience is running on zero fuel.

  “We are looking for a rare book about ancient Egypt.”

  “So?” I say.

  He pauses a tad too long. He avoids eye contact. “We happen to know some people who dedicated their lives to finding rare books and artefacts.”

  “No!” Oz jumps to his feet, almost knocking the table over. “You… I— Just no!”

  “What are you talking about?” I don’t know these blokes well enough to read their minds.

  “Nisha’s parents,” Shaggy explains, voice low. “They have a massive collection of rare stuff.”

  That’s brilliant. Why the hell didn’t I think of that? Nisha told me all about her parents’ collection, and it’s ideal.

  I grab my jacket and move toward the door. They don’t follow. “Guys, what are you waiting for?”

  Oz says, “Are you that eager to tell Rob and V how we lost their girls to the god of the Underworld?”

  My jaw drops. Shit! Things moved so fast after we escaped the hospital, I completely forgot about Nisha’s aunt and uncle. Did anyone tell them they girls are missing? Do they think they’re dead?

  Fuck! If they think they’re dead, we have to—

  “We have to tell them they’re still alive. They deserve to know the truth.” Trust me, I’m well acquainted with trembling uncertainty. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, let alone Nisha’s family.

  “Are they?” he whispers. “Are Izzy and Nisha still alive?”

  “Yes,” I reply, no hesitation. Every bone in my body tells me they are. Unless someone presents me with hard evidence, I refuse to believe otherwise.

  Oz exhales sharply. “Let’s get this over with, then.”

  Chapter 17

 
How do you tell someone their daughter and niece survived a terrorist attack only to find themselves imprisoned in the Underworld? Shall we ring the bell and say, “Oh, hey. Those crazy psychos who slaughtered half the town were disciples of an ancient Egyptian god who is dead set on regaining his immortality with the help of your niece, who, by the way, is the reincarnation of his wife and a goddess herself?”

  Safe to say it wouldn’t end well. In fact, I’m fairly certain Nisha’s uncle, Rob, wouldn’t opt for a paintball gun this time around. He’d go for the real deal, shooting us all. Would I blame him? Not at all. If the roles were reversed, and someone told me one of my sisters was the captive of some psycho Underworld leader, I’d forget all about the Don’t Shoot the Messenger rule, too.

  Unfortunately, we’re out of options, and Rob and V deserve the truth. For all they know, Nisha and Izzy are casualties of the Bavarian Inn massacre. Probably, too badly burned to make an ID. Someone needs to tell them their kids are alive, that they have a fighting chance to come back to them. There’s a chance they’ll alert the psych ward once we tell them what really went down at the Bavarian Inn, but that’s a risk we’ll have to take. And if all else fails, we still have Kathy to corroborate our version of the events.

  Shaggy nudges Oz. “It’s going to be okay.”

  His friend’s reassurance doesn’t do Oz any good. His bitter laughter roars through the street. “Which part of this fucked-up shit is ever going to be okay, Shag?”

  “You’ll see.” Shaggy’s gaze darts to the Blake home. The first rays of light cast an eerie shadow over the snow-covered roof. The dirty gray sky is oppressive and depressing. “We’ll get them back.” Every time he says that, he sounds less convinced.

  Ignoring them both, I focus on the task at hand. The living room is lit up. Thank god. I was worried they might be camping outside the Bavarian Inn or the Sheriff’s Station, like most of the other relatives. I remember how the paramedics walked us out, past some crazed folks out for blood because no one was telling them shit. It wasn’t pretty. They yelled at the cops, accused them of not having done enough. The truth they couldn’t see: the police had no chance. What went down in the Bavarian Inn was magic and gods—nothing a police officer could be trained for.

  Scooby reaches the door first. Like the rest of us, he dreads facing V and Rob. It’s written all across his face. But he knows, as well as I do, it must be done. “Ready?”

  “Let’s do this.” The sooner we get it over with, the quicker we can get back to finding The Book of the Dead.

  Shaggy nods at the door. “Ring the bell, brother.”

  If Scooby’s waiting for him to jump on the let’s-do-it ship, he’ll be growing roots. The guy is so pale, he might faint any second. And I get it. Oz isn’t just Izzy’s long-term boyfriend. Oz is family. They all are.

  Scooby looks up, as if sending a silent prayer to the heavens, then rings the bell. His finger is still on it when the door swings open.

  “Izzy? Nisha?” Rob yells. The man is a mess. His hair is disheveled, his shirt stained, and his eyes bear evidence of tears and pain.

  Staring us all down, he quickly realizes the girls aren’t with us. His disappointment is obvious. “Where are they?” He faces Oz.

  Oz can’t look at him and doesn’t say anything, either.

  I’m all set to step in when V comes running. “Thank God.” She slams her hand over her heart. “You boys are okay.” She wipes tears away from bloodshot eyes. “They wouldn’t tell us anything,” she goes on. “Said we should go home and wait for news. Can you believe it? They want us to sit back and drink tea while you—” She stops, realization slowly hitting her. “Where are they?”

  Rob says, “Boys, did you not hear her?” He searches our faces, studying our expressions uneasily. When no one answers, he zooms in on Oz. “Well?”

  “I’m so sorry,” he cries, tears running down his cheeks. “I… I should have protected them.”

  V turns white as a ghost.

  Rob’s face is redder than a lobster, his hands balled at his sides. Even when he threatened my manhood with that famous paintball gun of his, he never struck me as the violent type. But I know how easily the loss of a loved one—hell, simply the fear of losing a person—can transform you into a cold-blooded monster without a conscience.

  “Can we come in?” I ask, stepping between a wrathful Rob and a broken Oz.

  Rob narrows his eyes at me. All that anger and pain… Jesus Christ, the man wants blood. I don’t blame him. He needs to focus his rage on someone. Oz is like a son to him. I, however, am the tattooed rotten apple who put a man in a wheelchair.

  Rob isn’t the kind of guy who judges you by your past deeds. He made that clear when he pulled me aside, after almost catching Nisha and me kissing in his kitchen, and stuck a paintball gun to my balls—and warned me that he didn’t care what I’d done, but he’d rip me apart if I ever hurt Nisha. Losing her to the Underworld god, I assume, counts as such.

  V pushes Rob aside. “Come on in.”

  We follow her into the living room.

  Rob stands by the window, his patience thinning by the second. “Someone better tell me what the hell is going on, or I swear, by the name of Ganesha, I will get my—”

  “Rob!” V casts him a sidelong glance. “You’re not helping.”

  Rob grunts, clearly disagreeing, but remains quiet.

  Scooby points at the couch. “I think you want to sit down for this.”

  And that’s too much for V. She starts sobbing. “Are they…. They’re not….”

  “They’re alive,” I say quickly.

  An odd mixture of relief and why-didn’t-you-say-so-earlier washes over Rob’s sleep-deprived face. “Where are they?”

  I wish there were an easy way to tell them the truth. Thanks to Seth, however, this is wishful thinking, because the truth will destroy them.

  “Please,” V begs, her swollen eyes searching mine. “Tell us where they are.”

  I can see my mom in her. The day my sister didn’t come home was the worst in her life. The time that followed, not knowing if she was still alive, turned her into a mess. No way I can watch V go through the same. I get straight to the point, no sweet-talking, no flowery excuses. “They’re in the Underworld.”

  “Smooth,” Scooby grumbles beside me.

  I spill the whole story, hoping, praying they’ll believe us.

  The Woods

  Chapter 18

  Nisha

  We return to the shore. The brutal sun high in the sky dries my clothes in no time. Who cares about wet clothes, though?

  I’m obsessed with the blue light and the sense of familiarity it invoked in me. It showed me all twelve caverns, and while this world is still alien to me, I now know where we’re going.

  Seth shields his eyes from the sun and gazes at the Nile. “Right on time.”

  Kherty’s ferry is waiting for us. Seth called him earlier.

  There’s no such thing as phones in the Underworld. The communication system here is way easier than in my world. If you need to call someone, you close your eyes and focus real hard. Or so Seth said when I asked him.

  “Princess.” Kherty bows low. “Glad to see you survived the tomb.”

  I wring my hair, the water forming a small puddle by my feet. “It almost sounds as if you doubted me.”

  “Oh, no.” Kherty smiles. “You are still your parents’ daughter.”

  Even if I don’t recognize you. I swear that’s what he thinks. How I know? Easy. He gives me the same pitiful look I get from Seth. Sort of like I’m broken, and they have no clue how to fix me or if they even can.

  “We should get on the ferry,” Seth murmurs.

  Kherty quickly bows to him. “As you wish, my lord.”

  Seth wades through the water and boards the boat. He can’t get away from me fast enough. Given a choice, I’d be running from him, too.

  Kherty—a true gentleman—offers me his hand. “May I, Princess?” He makes it so
und as if it’d be an honor for him to lead me back to the boat. In reality, I’m sure he saw the fear in my eyes when I glared at the water—the memories of my crocodile encounter still fresh—and took pity on me.

  “Thanks,” I whisper, happily taking him up on it. I feel a little safer with him by my side. Strange, considering he’s some kind of demon, known for being unfriendly.

  Once we’re on board, Kherty says, “Where to, my princess?”

  I close my eyes, the images of what I saw in the tombs immediately flooding my mind. “To The Woods,” I say, hoping this isn’t the beginning of a Disney Movie with evil witches and god knows what.

  “You heard her,” Kherty barks at his rowers. “Set a course for The Woods.”

  We move quietly down the Nile. I pick a spot at the rear of the boat, admiring the colors of the water that once gave life to one of the oldest civilizations known to man.

  Intrigued that the Underworld is an exact replica of what life once was for Egyptians, I take it all in: sandy shores, fig trees, palms, and small villages scattered along the river. For the time being, I almost forget this is the land of the dead.

  “You did well in the tomb.” Seth’s sudden appearance startles me, but not as much as his kind words. The man of my nightmares has done his title justice so far. Naturally, I’m a little suspicious by his sudden change in tone.

  Keeping my eyes trained on a farmer watering his crop, I say, “I would have drowned in the cavern if not for you.”

  Leaving some distance between us, he sits next to me. “You must be more careful. The gods are watching, and I’m simply your guide.” Not your savior is what he’s trying to say.

  “I will be,” I assure him, the sharpness in my voice less deadly than earlier. Seth is my enemy, the monster responsible for a massacre that killed half the town I grew up in and my cousin’s captor. Yet, despite all that, he protected me when he shouldn’t have. He’s my guide, and as such he’s not allowed to get involved. He took my hand nevertheless. I was raised to show gratitude when due.