“C’mon, Molly.”
I went first up the staircase with Miss Chiles following. When we got to the top, I pushed through the door. It was a nice day, not too chilly, with the sunlight peeking through the trees. Just being out of the temple and away from the drama had a calming effect. My head was still pounding, though. The pain pulsed in my head as sharp as nails being hammered into my skull. My neck felt knotted. Aches pulsed in my arms and legs, and knew I’d find a few new bruises.
I turned to Miss Chiles. “I’ll call Henry. He can help me back to the dorms.”
“That’s a good idea.” She hesitated. “Perhaps you should go to the nurse—just in case you have a concussion.”
“I’ve gotten worse in training,” I said. “I’m fine. Really.”
“Very well. Get some rest. I’ll make sure that you’re excused from your afternoon classes. If you start feeling strange again, then go to the nurse.”
I gave her the thumbs up, and after giving me one last concerned look, she turned and re-entered the temple. I waited until Miss Chiles had closed the door and then I walked to the path that lead to the school.
“Henry, I need you.”
My ghoul appeared instantly. He was gaunt and gray-skinned. His eyes were white with pinpoint black pupils. His gaze was weird, sure, but I’d gotten used to it. As always, he was dressed impeccably. Despite his thinness, he was very strong and he even had some ability to use magic. He’d been in my family for a very long time. Ghouls weren’t made anymore, but if you had one, you got to keep him. (Or her.)
Henry wasn’t one to show emotion, but he immediately reached out and enfolded me into his stiff embrace. “There now, Miss. Let’s get you tucked into bed. Hot chocolate and cookies will make you feel much better.”
“Thank you, Henry.” I laid my head on his shoulder, and to my surprise, I started to cry. He lifted me into his arms, turned, and strode down the path.
“I’m s-sorry,” I sniffled. “I’m m-messing up your jacket.”
“I have others, Miss. You may cry as much as you want on this one.”
I hiccupped. “O-okay.”
I curled into the crook of his neck, noted that he actually smelled kinda nice, and let Henry take care of me.
AFTER FIXING ME hot chocolate and peanut butter cookies, Henry tucked me into bed, and insisted I rest. I couldn’t shut my thoughts down. I kept thinking about Mr. Jacobs, and that woman. Who was she? I tried to remember what they’d said to each other, but I couldn’t extract the words from my uncooperative brain.
Eventually, I fell asleep.
We stood near the crumbled remains of Set’s prison. The chanting robed minions who’d given the god of chaos the energy to escape now lay in ashy piles around the cage’s perimeter.
“No one’s ready for this,” I said. “They all think Clarissa closed the portal.”
“This isn’t your fault, Molly.” Rath drew me into his embrace, and I closed my arms around his waist. I rested my head on his shoulder.
“Rath, what do I do? How do we stop him?”
“We do what the Oracle told us. And we find your father.”
I jolted awake, my heart racing. For a moment, I couldn’t draw breath.
What was going on? Why was I dreaming about Set and Rath and the Underworld? Clarissa closed a portal? Rath and I went to the Oracle?
The shadows stretching across my room told me it was late afternoon. Henry had left on a bedside lamp for which I was grateful. I didn’t want to be left alone in the dark.
“Hey.”
“Aaaaaaaaaahhh!!!” I tried to leap from the bed, but I got tangled in the sheets. I wrestled with them and I lost the battle.
“Whoa, brown eyes. It’s just me.”
I stopped trying to extract myself from my bedding and looked up. Rath was about a foot away from the bed. His hands were in his jean pockets, and his gaze took in my sleep-worn, and now mortified, self. I reinserted myself under the covers.
“Henry seemed to think you needed a friend.”
“Oh.” I smoothed the bedspread. Rath took this as an invitation to sit down. The bed dipped under his weight and his hip settled against mine. He leaned forward. He smoothed back my hair and then tapped my nose.
“You were having a nightmare.”
I couldn’t deny it was a nightmare, but I knew it somehow a view into the future. Was Anubis sending these dreams to me? Why didn’t he check in on me? Or answer my prayers? I was his daughter. Didn’t that give me priority somehow?
The idea I was dreaming about the future—about the Set’s inevitable escape scared me. I looked up and found Rath’s gaze on me. He reached out, withdrew my hand from under the covers, and then threaded his fingers through mine.
“Do you trust me?” he asked softly.
I wouldn’t look away. I couldn’t. My heart started to pound. “Yes. I trust you.”
His lips curled into a half-smile. “I trust you, too.” He squeezed my hand. “Tell about your dream. Why did you say my name?”
Embarrassment flooded me, and heat flushed my face. “You heard me?”
“You’re cute when you blush.”
Gah!
“I wasn’t trying to be a creeper.” He leaned forward and with his free hand, he grasped my chin. “I’m here for you, brown eyes. I’m on Team Molly.”
“Thanks.” I swallowed the knot in my throat, and licked my lips. Rath was so close. I could smell his cologne—something crisp and outdoorsy.
“Maybe I was dreaming about failing Dr. Mayfair’s quiz on Keep Thy Soul.”
“Uh-huh. Are you that scared of an F?”
“Definitely. It’s probably what I’m going to get because … blurgh. That book is awful.”
“C’mon, Mol. Tell me about the dream.”
I didn’t want to tell him. I felt as though if I verbalized those visions, it would somehow ensure they came true. Fear crawled through me like tiny electric spiders.
I took a deep breath. “You and I are in the Underworld. We’ve found Set’s prison and we’re trying to prevent his escape.” I shuddered and squeezed his hand tightly. I told him the details, even the part where he kissed me. Maybe if he knew everything, he could help figure out what it meant. (And also, maybe take the hint to kiss me? I know, I know. I’m such a girl.)
“It definitely sounds like a portent dream,” said Rath. “It’s just you and I?”
I nodded.
He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then his gaze snared mine. “Where are the rest of the Chosen?”
“Yeah. And what portal did Clarissa not close?” I asked.
“Good question,” said Rath.
“We don’t know that there isn’t other stuff going on,” I said. “You know, like the other Chosen fending off Set’s minions somewhere else.”
“Maybe they’re in the human world preparing for the apocalypse.”
“Or there’s that.”
“What happened in the temple?” he asked.
“A big meeting was called at lunch. So, I go to the temple, and when I get to the bottom of the staircase, I start feeling really sick. This woman appears … like she’s a sheut or something. I fall down, and I’m starting to pass out. That’s when I see Mr. Jacobs in the shadows looking like he wants to kill me.” I frowned. “Only I think the woman was trying to hurt me, too. I passed out. I woke up in the main temple, I was on display in front of the whole society. Everyone was staring at me, including Mr. Jacobs.”
“You think he was the one making you sick?”
Rath seemed to take my accusation seriously, which was a nice change from other people blowing off my worries. At least Rath knew about Clarissa and her diabolical pursuit of becoming the champion of Anubis.
“Yeah, but he totally denied it. Even Miss Chiles said he was trying to help me.” I looked at Rath, feeling helpless. “I didn’t think necros had that kind of ability. I mean, using magic to kill someone doesn’t really fall under any of the heka powers.”
<
br /> “Sometimes necros find ways to bend magic. It’s stupid, because doing that kind of shit never ends well. If he did use his power to make you ill, then he’ll pay a big price for it. Don’t worry, Molly, I’ll look into it.”
“You believe me?”
“Yes.” He squeezed my hand, and then lifted it to kiss my knuckles. “I’m glad you’re okay, Molly.”
“Thanks.” Being around Rath made me feel like my blood had morphed into raw electricity. It pulsed and writhed, sending little shocks to my stomach. I knew there was something between us—at least, I knew how I felt. Rath wasn’t as easy to read. I never knew what he was going to do or say, much less how he felt about anything (especially me). Still, in the dreams, the visions, he kissed me … and it was like we were together-together.
“You said the woman in temple might be a sheut,” said Rath. “Have you seen one before?”
I bit my lower lip. I hadn’t revealed my aunt’s predicament to anyone, but I needed some guidance about what to do for her. “My Aunt Lelia … she’s, uh, a sheut.”
Rath’s expression turned incredulous. “She made contact with you?”
“Yeah. The night of my birthday party, after you left my bedroom. Remember that?”
“How could I forget?”
At my Sweet Sixteen party—the same night I saved Rick from death and bound him to my service (accidentally, I’d like to point out)—Rath had confronted me. He’d been there to reap Rick’s soul, and I had massively interfered with the process. My triumph soon turned to regret. Rick had suffered because I hadn’t wanted him to die.
Sometimes what you want isn’t what you need (so sayeth Henry).
Anyway.
“I don’t know what happened, or how my mom’s involved, but Aunt Lelia somehow got captured by Set.”
Rath held up a hand. “Wait a minute. Your aunt’s sheut belongs to Set?”
“Oh, you mean the god imprisoned in the Underworld who’s trying to break out and get vengeance on us? Yeah, that’s the one.” I picked at the edge of the bedcover anxiously. “I want to free her.”
“We’d need a sheut heka, Molly.” Rath shook his head. “Since they’re pretty much outlawed, it’s rare that you find anyone willing to admit, much less use, that power.” He looked at me, his gaze serious. “You need to be careful. Asking around about sheuts can get you into trouble.”
I sighed. “There’s got to be a way to help her.”
“I can’t promise anything, but I’ll make some inquiries.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.” He looked at me, and for a moment, I thought he might reach out and touch my face again. Instead, he let go of my hand and offered me a wicked grin. “Rest up, brown eyes.”
“Yeah. I’ll need my rest to kick your butt in training.”
“You can try.” He got off the bed. “See you later.” He winked at me, and then in a flash of cold darkness, he disappeared.
The clock on my nightstand reminded me that I had about three hours before my friends arrived for movie night. I didn’t really feel like having friends over, but I’d bailed once too often in the last couple of weeks. I couldn’t bring myself to cancel.
I eased out of bed, and surveyed my room. If this had been my bedroom at home, you wouldn’t be able to see the floor because of discarded clothes, thrown pillows, and other assorted junk. I had cleaned my room on a weekly basis because Nona insisted (remember, she’s Italian and has a big rolling pin). Here, at Nekyia, I’d been spoiled by Henry’s OCD tendency to keep everything clean, neat, and precisely in its place.
I looked down at my toes, and decided I had time for a long bath and a pedicure. Then I’d help Henry set up for the movie night party.
Knock, knock, knock.
I crossed the room and opened the door. When I saw who it was, I tensed up immediately.
“What do you want?”
Molly’s Reaper Diary
Frenemies
You won’t like everyone you meet. And hey, there’ll be plenty of people who don’t like you, either. Especially souls who don’t want to believe they’re dead, and will fight you all the way to the gates of the Underworld.
You don’t get choose the souls you guide, and sometimes, you don’t get to choose who you work with on certain tasks. Take, for example, the loathsome Clarissa Jacobs. Despite her attempts to sabotage and humiliate me, I still had to suck it up and work with her for the common good.
“The common good” phrase belongs to Miss Chiles. She utters it constantly. Hey, I get it. I’m not dense. I understand there’s a bigger picture. So, I resist the urge to punch certain people and choose to be a “team” member.
Woo.
Anyway, just because you have to work with your nemesis doesn’t mean you have to trust her (or him). It does mean to be extra cautious around them because they’re probably looking for opportunities to screw you.
Don’t plot back. I mean, really. Don’t do that. You’ll lose focus fast if you’re concentrating on making one person miserable instead of completing a successful mission. I’m sorry, but trust me when I say you’ll be better off taking the high road than jumping into the muddy hole with your frenemy. You’ll get dirty, but worse, you’ll swallow all that animosity … and drown.
“The Nekros Society was created by Anubis to train elite necromancers—the Chosen—to fight Set, should he ever escape his prison and wreak his vengeance. Among these was the Kebechet, the ancient Egyptian word for ‘daughter.’ The Kebechet is always a female. Anyone may challenge to be champion of Anubis, and can gain the title by winning a competition designed to test her wits, her fighting skills, and her necromancy. ”
~Secret History of Reapers, Author Unknown
“Muddy is the graveyard
Thin is the veil
On the night the ghosts dance
And open the gates of hell.”
~Jennifer McClung, Author of Undeadly Poems
Chapter 5
“WE NEED TO talk,” said Clarissa.
I glared at her. “Why?”
“Because we do.”
She crossed her arms, her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed, but her little imperious act couldn’t cover her nervousness. Could she possibly have come to my dorm room to fess up to her crimes? Oh, ha.
“Are you going to let me in?” she demanded.
I wanted to yell NO! and slam the door in her face. Instead, because I am a good person (and also curious about what she had to say) I opened the door wider and stepped back so she could enter.
She strode across the room and sat on the bench at the foot of my unmade bed. I shut the door and then I joined her on the bench—sitting as far away from her as possible without falling off the edge.
Clarissa glanced around the room, obviously unimpressed by my dorm room. I realized she had a Legacy dorm, too, so nothing in mine would come as a surprise. Her gaze landed on the TV and the comfy lounging cushions and bean bags. “I have a training area,” she said. “Daddy says TV is a distraction.”
“It is,” I agreed. “Sometimes, you need distractions.”
She shrugged. “Whatever.” She crossed her legs and then clasped her hands around her knee. “Why did you accuse my father of trying to hurt you?”
“Because he did.”
“Where’s your proof?”
I rolled my eyes. “I saw him. He was muttering under his breath, no doubt casting an illegal spell, and he walked toward me like … like he was going to crush me into dust.”
“He doesn’t like you.”
“The feeling’s mutual.” I crossed my arms. “If you think have the chops to get Kebechet without dear daddy cheating for you, then why did you report me for stealing the soul box?”
“I didn’t.”
I snorted in disbelief. “You’re the only who has the motive.”
Her expression turned incredulous. “You are so stupid. You don’t think you’re a threat to anyone else on this campus? You’re a Briarstock
! Anyone here could have a bloodline grudge. Your mother wasn’t exactly known for her charity work.”
Give that Mom had bailed when I was ten-years-old, I found it difficult to defend her. I wasn’t sure what a bloodline grudge meant, but I wasn’t going to ask Clarissa about it. I had all kinds of questions about what Mom did while she was at Nekyia. Of course, I wasn’t all that sure I wanted to know. Carrying my own baggage was hard enough—I didn’t want to pack and carry Mom’s miseries, too.
“Fine. Whatever. Are we done?” I asked.
Clarissa chewed her bottom lip. Then she straightened and looked me in the eyes. “I don’t need my father’s help to win the competition. I’ve been training my whole life to be chosen as the Kebechet. I’ve sacrificed everything.”
“You mean, your dad made sure you sacrificed everything.”
Something raw and vulnerable flashed in Clarissa’s blue eyes, and I knew I’d hit a nerve. “Save your armchair psychology for your loser friends. And leave my dad alone. He didn’t do anything to you. You’re just … weak.”
I suddenly realized that Clarissa’s faith in her father had been shaken. And here she was, trying to make herself feel better by bullying me. I hated to admit that I felt sympathy for her. I understood that her father probably pushed her hard—probably way too hard.
Unfortunately, that fact didn’t make Clarissa any less of a bitch.
At some point, you had to stop blaming the people around you and accept that you’re responsible for yourself, your choices, and your mistakes.
Or so I’ve been told by every adult in the history of ever.
“Believe what you want,” I said. “Your dad came after me.” I stood up. “If he does it again, I’ll be ready. So maybe you should tell him to leave me alone.”
Clarissa stiffened and her expression became thunderous. Then she sucked in a breath and slowly stood, her fists clenching. “The competition will prove which one of us is the real champion,” she said. “It’ll just be you and me, Molly. And I will win.”
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