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 landed 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.”
5
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 be
en 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.
My breaths were coming faster now, my heart beating a steady staccato in my chest. He really did it. He really went through the portal. Re, and Nik right along with him, was quite literally outside of this universe.
I thought I should’ve felt something, like the unfathomable distance that now separated Nik’s and my bonded souls should have pained me. But it didn’t. All I felt was a sudden rush of panic making my stomach twist in knots. There was no turning back now. My bond-mate was on the other side of that portal. And if I wanted to survive for more than a week, I would have to follow.
“Will it hurt?” I asked Anapa. When he didn’t answer right away, I glanced at him.
He was frowning. “I honestly cannot say. You are the first of your kind to ever travel through a portal.”
“But Susie and Syris—”
“Are not Nejeret,” Anapa said, correcting me before I could even finish. “They are Netjer, through and through.”
“Huh.” I stared at the portal, trying to imagine what I would find on the other side. I had so little to go on that I came up blank.
“Well,” I said, taking a deep breath and blowing it out. “Here goes nothing.”
With no idea what to expect, I squared my shoulders and strode straight toward the portal. My heart may have skipped a beat or three when I planted my shoe on the sidewalk a scant foot from the event horizon, but I didn’t allow my steps to slow. If I slowed at all, I thought I might lose my nerve, and then I would never make it through.
I closed my eyes and held my breath.
And stepped through the portal.
6
As it turned out, entering a portal to another universe felt a lot like taking a running dive over the lip the Grand Canyon, only to free-fall for what felt like an eternity before landing in an enormous vat of warm, gooey Jell-O. And that was just the physical sensation.
I closed my eyes for the first few seconds—a natural reaction to feeling like I was falling to my death, like that might protect me from the impact of landing. Once I opened my eyes, I was too awed to even blink.
I seemed to be moving through a tunnel of some sort, its walls an ever-changing kaleidoscope of lights and colors and textures and, somehow, sounds. They flitted past, so very different from one another, but not the least bit discordant, like all the instruments in an orchestra playing at the same time—each making a unique sound but still maintaining harmony with the whole.
Beneath it all, there was a steady drumming that reminded me of a heartbeat. I could feel the primal rhythm thrumming through the air all around me, somehow familiar and strangely comforting.
The tunnel curved this way and that, up and down. And then there was a flash, brighter than those flickering along the walls of the tunnel, and suddenly I was falling again. That thrumming heartbeat stopped, replaced by an almost staticky staccato tapping, and the appearance of the walls changed, taking on an oily, metallic look. The surface of the walls still shifted endlessly, like liquid quicksilver, but in patterns and sharp angles.
The journey came to an end just as it had started, with the whole falling sensation. I figured I would be thrown out of the portal into whatever sort of reception area awaited me on the other side. I didn’t expect to just step out of the portal like I was completing the motion that had brought me into the thing in the first place. But that was exactly what happened.
The moment the sole of my shoe touched the solid surface on the other side of the portal, my knees gave out. I collapsed onto the floor, head hanging and palms pressed into a smooth, cool surface. I felt like I’d had way too much to drink and was suffering from a bad case of the spins.
/> “Holy shit,” I said, the two words broken up by my quick, heavy breaths.
A hand appeared in front of my face. A familiar hand, one that had spent a lot of time touching my body lately. Nik’s hand. I was so disoriented that it took me a moment to realize why Nik’s hand was the first thing I saw upon entering an entirely different universe.
Nik was here too. I wasn’t alone in this foreign place. That knowledge made me breathe a little easier. If there was one thing I’d learned over the past few weeks, it was that there was nothing Nik and I couldn’t accomplish, so long as we were together.
I shifted my weight backwards so my butt was resting on my heels and placed my hand in Nik’s. But the moment I raised my eyes and met his, the moment I saw that moonstone opalescence coloring his irises in place of that familiar, beloved pale blue, I hissed faintly and yanked my hand from his. Re was still in control.
He stared down at me, expression one of utter confusion.
My eyes narrowed to slits. “Think maybe you could turn the helm back over to Nik now?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. “I’m here. That was the whole point of you hijacking his body, right? So why don’t you just let Nik go and skedaddle on into your own body, or whatever . . .”
Re grunted a humorless laugh, then closed his eyes and bowed his head. When his eyelids lifted once more, it revealed that heartwarming ice blue that belonged to Nik and Nik alone.
I blew out a breath, pushing my hair out of my face with a hasty swipe of my hand. “Oh thank God,” I said as I reclaimed his hand and used it to pull myself up to my feet. “Good to have you back.”
The corner of Nik’s mouth lifted, just a little. “Glad to be back.”
My focus slid away from him, and I did a slow scan of our surroundings. “Damn,” I said, voice momentarily stolen by what I saw.
We were in a dome that had to be at least five hundred feet high at its peak, taller than pretty much any building back in Rome. The walls were like quicksilver, rippling and refracting the light that seemed to be shining through it. I glanced down, confirming what I suspected from my less-than-dignified hands-and-knees arrival—the floor was made of the same material.
Judgement (Kat Dubois Chronicles Book 5) Page 4