I shook my head and backed up another step. And another. “I can’t go with you,” I told him again, slowly navigating my way backward through the forest of people. I wasn’t refusing to go with Anapa because I had better things to do here—though I did—but because whatever awaited me on the other side of that portal was the big bad I’d been sensing.
“Katarina,” Anapa said, taking another step toward me.
“No!” I raised my left hand. My palm felt like it had spontaneously combusted, and a brilliant light burst forth from the Eye of Horus inked into my skin, washing Anapa in a hazy silver mist.
He froze mid-step, hand extended toward me and mouth partway open.
Just like that, Anapa, a full-fledged Netjer, joined the ranks of the people frozen in time all around me. I had no idea how I’d done it, and even less of an idea of how long it would last.
I stared at Anapa for a millisecond, then turned on my heel and ran away from him and his damn portal as fast as I could. Fleeing like this was maybe not the most well-thought-out plan, but then, planning ahead had never really been my strong suit.
I dodged this way and that around the frozen people crowding the sidewalk, moving to the street where the human obstacles were slightly less densely packed. I was about a half a block down the street when logic kicked in.
I couldn’t fight off Anapa on my own. I needed the help of the most powerful Nejeret I knew—Nik. Maybe I was technically powerful enough to hold my own against Anapa—after all, he was the one who had told me I had the magical prowess of a Netjer, maybe even more—but my control over my burgeoning powers was still growing and often spotty at best. With Nik by my side, though, my odds were at least slightly better.
I made an abrupt about-face, heading back the way I’d come. When I reached the spot where the portal to the Netjer universe still swirled in the bakery’s gray stone wall, I missed a step.
Anapa was gone.
I stopped, frantically turning around and around, searching the immediate area for him. But there was no sign of him.
“Shit,” I muttered. My fight-or-flight response kicked in, and I turned toward the plume of blackish smoke reaching high into the sky, leaned forward, and ran as fast as I could. I only made it six steps.
Some hidden force stopped me mid-stride, holding me in place. It was like I’d stepped into a block of cement, only it was transparent and I could still breathe. What I couldn’t do was move.
“I truly regret that it had to come to this, Katarina,” Anapa said from somewhere off to my right. Based on the sound of his voice, I placed him just beyond the edge of my peripheral vision. “I had hoped my past actions had earned your trust enough that you would accompany me willingly. I am not a fan of threats, especially not threats aimed at one I respect so highly.”
He moved into sight, another form following along with him, the only things moving among the forest of frozen people. I recognized his companion instantly, and my heart skipped a beat.
It was Nik. He was trailing Anapa, walking along seemingly of his own free will, but the color of his irises—or lack thereof—suggested otherwise. The pale blue hue I’d come to know and love was gone, replaced by an iridescent shade reminiscent of opals and moonstones I recognized all too well from the days when Nik had shared his body with another soul—the Netjer, Re.
A sense of cold horror washed over me.
Re, cocreator of this universe alongside Apep, had been invited to cohabitate within Nik’s body by Nik himself some five thousand years ago, just moments after Re’s former host was murdered. For thousands of years, the two had shared body and mind, and all had seemed well . . . until someone came along and threw a wrench in their happy partnership. That’s right, I’m talking about little old me.
Thanks to the anti-At lacing my ba, I’m a bit of an anomaly. According to the rules of this universe, I shouldn’t exist—I should have been eradicated from the timeline completely—but thanks to Nik’s quick action, here I am. And now, because of the At and anti-At that had come to be as much a part of my soul as my sheut—I’m connected to the universe in a way that makes me a whole lot more powerful than the average Nejeret. Possibly even more powerful than a Netjer. That might have a little something to do with why Re had been so dead set on ending my unnatural existence time and again over the years.
Nik, however, was pretty keen on my life continuing, even back then. We hadn’t known it at the time, but his devotion to my continued existence was probably caused by our souls’ perfect compatibility and our potential to share the strongest, deepest connection possible—a soul bond. Because of me, Nik and Re reached an impasse that resulted in a three-year coma for Nik and a one-way escorted trip back to the Netjer universe for Re. Or, at least, I’d thought it was one way.
Based on Nik’s eye color, Re was back. And Nik wasn’t in charge at the moment; Re was.
My gut twisted, horror and rage a living thing inside me. What would this mean for Nik? Would he be damned to spend the rest of his life sharing his body with Re? And what would it mean for our bond? The disturbing possibilities were too plentiful to count.
I stared at Nik—at Re—for a moment longer, then shifted my focus to Anapa.
He’d done this. He’d stolen my bond-mate’s free will. It was his fault.
Anger was a wildfire burning through my veins. I felt the familiar swell of otherworldly energy within my sheut, overflowing into my ba and out into my body. It saturated my entire being in a single heartbeat, body and soul bursting with power, demanding release. I let it out, easy as exhaling.
Whatever spell Anapa had cast over me to hold me in place shattered. The invisible restraints disintegrated, raining down around me in a fine, glittering mist before dissolving into nothingness.
My chest rose and fell heavily, and my hands curled into tight fists. “What did you do to him?” I said, more a demand than a question.
I gritted my teeth, my fingers itching for the hilt of my sword, Mercy. Not a second later, an all-too-familiar shape solidified in my grip.
Eyes widening, I glanced down. It wasn’t Mercy I was holding but some perfect reproduction of my beloved sword, not only made of crystalline At but marbled with ribbons of inky anti-At as well. With hardly a thought, I’d willed a replica of Mercy into existence. Maybe Anapa was right about me. Maybe I was just as powerful as a Netjer. Maybe even more.
I raised my eyes, meeting Anapa’s.
His narrowed the slightest bit. “Katarina, please,” he said, raising his hands in placation. “I urge you to cooperate. Violence is unnecessary.” There was no hint of fear in his voice. Not even any anger. If anything, I thought I picked up on a thread of disappointment.
I scoffed. Like he had any right to be disappointed in me. Like he had any right at all to expect a single damn thing from me after the stunt he’d just pulled with Nik. “Don’t you ‘Katarina, please’ me.” I raised my sword. “Take Re out of Nik, now.” I widened my stance, angling my right hip away from Anapa. “Like you said—violence isn’t necessary. But so help me, Anapa, if you make the wrong choice right now, I will hurt you.” I bent my knees, just a little, readying to strike.
Anapa sighed. The traitorous bastard had the audacity to look annoyed.
That pissed me the hell off even more. I was already mad, but that little gesture pushed me into a full-blown, berserker rage.
The air surrounding me crackled with electric energy, making the hairs all over my body stand on end. There was a moment of hushed expectation. The quiet before the storm. I inhaled and exhaled, the rush of air in and out of my lungs all I could hear.
And then I leapt at Anapa, the muscles in my legs reinforced by that otherworldly energy, propelling me through the air with more force than my body alone ever could. I flew at him, a fury cutting through the unnaturally still air. A scream tore free from my throat, a raw, resonant sound not meant to be formed by human vocal cords, echoing among the frozen forms filling the street.
I lande
d just out of arm’s reach of Anapa and spun around, whipping the unbreakable blade around with me. It was a foot from Anapa’s throat when it burst into a fine, iridescent mist.
I howled, altering my trajectory and tightening my fist just before it reached Anapa. I clocked him under the jaw as hard as I could. Not as good as a sword strike, but with the surge of magical energy coating every single muscle fiber in my body, the blow promised to do some damage.
Anapa grunted, head snapping back, and took a few stumbling steps away from me.
I stalked after him, already forming the next series of strikes in my mind. I could feel the otherworldly energy pouring into me, saturating my physical body and recharging my inhuman strength.
A hand locked around my arm, just above the elbow, stopping me short.
I spun around, attempting to yank my arm free, but the grip was unrelenting. Even with the power reinforcing my physical strength, I couldn’t break the hold.
My eyes widened as I stared at my detainer, my lips parted, and for the briefest moment, I lost the grip on my rage. In an instant, the power flooding me sizzled out.
It was Nik, or rather Re wearing Nik like a favorite suit, his eerie iridescent eyes staring out from Nik’s familiar face as he used Nik’s hijacked fingers to restrain me.
He curled Nik’s lip in distaste. “Come now, Kitty Kat, stop this childishness and for once at least try to use some common sense.” His voice was still Nik’s, but the way he spoke was all Re.
I ground my teeth together, nostrils flaring. I really hated him, and I silently vowed to yank his soul out of Nik if it was the last thing I ever did.
“Anapa could overpower you easily and force you through the portal,” Re told me, “but he didn’t. Perhaps you could show some momentary restraint and consider the possibility that he might just have your best interests at heart.”
“Then why did he go after Nik?” I retorted, raising my eyebrows. “That’s not exactly a friendly move, is it?”
Re bowed Nik’s head in agreement. “True, but I swear to you, I mean Nekure no harm. You are perhaps the only being in existence who cares for him more than I do. As soon as you cooperate with Anapa and pass through the portal to our universe, I will release him and join you. You have my word.”
I narrowed my eyes, studying his familiar features, weighing the truth in his words. “Why?” I glanced over my shoulder at Anapa, who was rubbing the side of his jaw as he watched our exchange. “Why is it so damn important that I go willingly?”
I was expecting Anapa to answer, but it was Re who spoke instead. “To show the High Council that you are reasonable and can be reasoned with.”
I returned my focus to him, eyebrows raising once again. Reasonable wasn’t often a word tossed my way. “Why does that matter?” I scrunched my eyebrows together. “And what the hell is the ‘High Council’?”
“The group of Netjers who rule over our kind,” Re explained. “Led by the Mother of All, the being who created everything that has ever existed. The High Council is on the verge of cutting this universe off—I believe Anapa has explained the dire ramifications of such an action—and the only way to stop the High Council from taking such drastic action immediately is to demonstrate that you can be reasoned with.”
I shook my head slowly, still not understanding. “Why?” I looked at Anapa again. “Why me? Why does it matter so much what I do?”
Anapa lowered his hand, working his jaw back and forth a few times. “Because, Katarina, you are the single most powerful being in this universe, and as such, you have been called to represent it.”
My eyelids opened wide with surprise. He was wrong—I wasn’t the most powerful being in this universe, Isfet was. But, so long as she remained trapped in Aaru, it looked like my unique connection to this universe—and, through it, my connection to her—made me the next-best thing.
“You, and only you, have the power to redirect this universe onto what the High Council views to be the right course,” Anapa continued. “I have convinced the Mother of All to hear your case. You are this universe’s last chance.”
I stared at him, lips parted and thoughts stalled. This couldn’t be happening. Nothing he was saying was making any sense.
“Unless you come with me right now of your own free will,” Anapa continued, “this universe will be severed from the collective, and in time, it will wither and die. There will be no Duat, no Aaru . . . no existence at all.”
I swallowed roughly.
“You,” he said, “alongside everything and everyone you care about, will cease to be.”
Chapter Five
After about fifteen seconds of watching me stare at Anapa without moving—without even breathing—Re leaned in until his borrowed lips were mere inches from my ear. “I didn’t sacrifice my place as keeper of this universe just to watch it rot away once I was gone.”
I pulled away from him as much as I could, eyeing him warily. Heru often pointed out my penchant for self-centered thinking. Re made me look like an amateur in that regard.
The corners of Re’s—Nik’s—mouth lifted in the merest hint of a smile. “This is one of the most unique and fascinating universes in existence . . . so wild and unpredictable . . . so magical . . .” Some deep emotion illuminated his moonstone irises. “Helping to shape this universe was the single greatest accomplishment of my life, and despite our differences in the past, Kat, you are the crowning glory of this universe.”
I gaped at him.
“Don’t fail this universe,” he said. “Don’t fail me.”
Of course he just had to end his ushy-gushy speech with a blinking arrow pointing right back at himself.
I stared at him for a few more seconds, then blew out a breath, laughing nervously as I looked at Anapa. “Is he just blowing smoke up my ass,” I asked, “or is he for real?”
Re and I had a long, colorful past—and not one that had been very conducive to building trust. Anapa, on the other hand, hadn’t crossed me until about ten minutes ago, when he committed the ultimate betrayal by putting my bond-mate in danger. Even so, in my heart and mind, Anapa’s words held a weight Re’s never would.
“He speaks the truth, Katarina,” Anapa said, nothing but honesty shining in his eyes.
The last flames of anger licking through my veins died out and my whole body seemed to deflate, my shoulders slumping and head drooping. Any way I looked at the situation, I didn’t see that I had any choice.
I inhaled deeply, then raised my head. With morose-colored glasses, I surveyed the scene surrounding me. The Roman street was packed with people suspended between one moment and the next. People who would have a very finite number of tomorrows if I didn’t go with Anapa right now. People whose souls would never rejoin the vast river of soul-energy flowing through Duat. People who wouldn’t just die, when this universe rotted away, but would fade out right along with it. People who would truly cease to be.
Unless I did something about it. Again. Gods, but I was tired of this whole save-the-universe shit.
Seeing that the fight had clearly left me, Re released my arm.
Finally, my gaze landed back on Anapa. “What happens to me if I come with you?”
Anapa and Re exchanged a glance that didn’t exactly set me at ease. The tension built, until finally Anapa spoke. “As I have already said—you will stand trial as representative of this universe.”
“Yeah, but what does that mean?”
“You will be questioned by the High Council,” Anapa said.
I waited for him to say more, and when he didn’t, I scoffed softly. “That’s all you’ve got—you will be questioned?”
Anapa watched me, expression inscrutable.
“And then what?” I asked. “What happens after this High Council questions me? Will I be sent home? Will I be imprisoned?” I swallowed roughly. “Will I even survive?”
“I cannot predict what the outcome will be,” Anapa said slowly. “My control over time does not extend into that
universe. But I do know that should you choose to remain here and force the High Council’s hand in severing this universe from the collective, none who inhabit this place will survive for long.”
I stared at him for several heartbeats, gauging the level of honesty in his midnight eyes. There was no hint of deception. “Alright,” I finally said. Like I even had a choice. “I’ll do it. I’ll come to your universe, and I promise to be on my best behavior.”
I hadn’t realized Anapa was holding his breath until he let it out in a massive whoosh.
“On one condition,” I added.
Anapa became very still.
I glanced at Re. “Nik comes, too. Can’t have either of us keeling over because of bonding withdrawals, can we?” I said, raising my eyebrows for emphasis. “I won’t be any good to anybody if I’m dead . . .”
Plus, if the shit hit the fan—which it usually did in situations involving me—I wanted to have my strongest ally at my side. It would’ve been nice to bring Mari, too, since we’d fought side by side for so long and were a flawless team, but you can’t always get what you want . . .
Re looked at Anapa, and the two shared a prolonged stare that seemed to say things I didn’t understand.
“Well?” I asked. “Do we have a deal?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Re nod.
A moment later, Anapa nodded, too. “Very well,” he said. “It is agreed.” He stepped to the side, arm extended to the portal swirling in an endless circle in the stone wall. “After you, Katarina.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and shook my head. “Oh no.” I held out my arm, mirroring his gesture melodramatically. “After you.” I looked at Re, then back at Anapa. “Both of you,” I said, not feeling overly gullible at the moment. I wasn’t about to step into a portal to another universe without seeing with my own two eyes that my bond-mate was coming, too. I wasn’t born yesterday—although, compared to both of them, I kind of was.
I flashed the two Netjers a too-wide grin. “No, really, I insist.”
After another meaningful look was shared between Anapa and Re, Anapa nodded. A moment later, Re strode past me on Nik’s legs, heading straight for the portal. In a blink, he was gone, the swirling mass of gray stone swallowing him up.
Kat Dubois Chronicles Page 79