She waved a hand. “Zoo tried to explain his magic to me once, but I told him his beliefs were a private thing and I didn’t have to know about it, and I also didn’t have a problem with it.”
“Wynne, are you saying you do have a problem with it?” Kira couldn’t believe it. “You run a metaphysical store. You make ritual athames and wands.”
Wynne held up her hands. “No, I don’t have a problem. I really don’t. Most of the customers are harmless—they don’t have magic like Zoo and his family do. So it’s been okay. But then we got that scrying mirror, and then we met you.”
“I don’t know if met is the right word, considering you weren’t supposed to see me,” Kira said ruefully. “I was supposed to come in, defuse the magic in the mirror, and get out. Should have known the gig was too easy.”
“You didn’t know a demon lived in that mirror,” Wynne said soothingly, though she stumbled over the word demon. “Hell, we didn’t know either. It never acted up when Zoo came around. Anyway, that was the beginning. That was when everything changed.”
Kira studied her friend, trying to figure out what Wynne’s point was. As much as Kira needed and appreciated having the Marlowes at her back, she’d tried to shield them from the true nature of her job as much as possible. It hadn’t always been easy but she’d managed. At least, she’d thought she’d managed. “How did everything change?”
“My bubble burst. You fought a demon in my stockroom. You have an amazing type of magic, different from Zoo’s, more powerful, I think. And you worship an Egyptian goddess, a goddess who marked you.”
Kira’s fingers automatically strayed to the base of her throat. Her burgundy cashmere turtleneck concealed the feather tattoo etched there, but Wynne knew the mark couldn’t be attributed to a human hand. “I guess it’s pretty amazing.”
“You guess?” Wynne’s eyes widened. “Your goddess talks to you. You pal around with a demigod. And now you’re sleeping with a guy who doesn’t stay dead when you kill him!”
Unease cut through Kira like an icy wind. She scanned the restaurant again, but the post-lunch diners had thinned out almost completely. Their waiter was shooing away one of the vagrants who liked to enter through the all-glass roll-up door that fronted the eatery and shill for change. Kira tried not to think about the homeless people she had injured the same night she’d wounded Zoo, the night the Fallen had captured her, but it was difficult to excise the guilt that had landed squarely atop her ingested meal.
“Wynne, you’re part of Gilead now,” she pointed out as reasonably as she could. “You went through their assimilation process.”
A flash of humor. “You mean Hell Week.”
“Yeah, what Balm euphemistically calls Orientation.” The on-boarding process for Gilead agents was nothing like the indoctrination that Shadowchasers and their handlers went through. Kira had heard agent training was something like the specialized regimen that Israeli Special Forces endured, with a metaphysical mad-scientist twist.
Kira knew from her time on Santa Costa that many Gilead agents were recruited from spy agencies and special forces teams around the world, but only half of them made it through the Gilead Commission’s rigorous program. “You made it through Gilead training,” she pointed out to Wynne. “You were green-lighted by Balm and by Section Chief Sanchez. You’ve got a good idea of what our fight is all about. Don’t you think it’s a little too late for a freak-out?”
“We were too busy saving the world. I’ve had time to think now.”
“Have you talked to Zoo about this, whatever ‘this’ is?”
“No.” Wynne stared down at her now-empty beer, her black nails tapping the bottle. “He’s been … different since the accident.”
“Oh.” Kira didn’t have to ask what accident. “Different how?”
“He’s thrown himself into his studies, brushing up on his spellcraft, trying to get stronger. He says he wants to make sure he can protect us no matter what. And he gave me this.” She reached inside her faded T-shirt, pulling out a black woven cord. A pendant dangled from the end of it, three stones wrapped with silver wire: obsidian, black tourmaline, and rose quartz.
“He says it’s a protection amulet and that I shouldn’t take it off except to shower. He says it will protect me.” Wynne’s face scrunched up. “Do you think it will?”
Protect you from what? Kira wondered. “Makes sense,” she said aloud. The stones’ natural properties, charged with the skill of someone of Zoo’s caliber, were sure to offer some protection. However, the amulet needed the wearer to believe it would work in order to be useful. “There’s a lot of stuff out there. It’s important to be protected.”
“Like you have Ma’at protecting you.” Wynne shook her head. “This is crazy.”
“How is it crazy?” Kira demanded. “You need to clue me in, ’cause I can’t get a read on what you’re talking about or why. You knew from the outset that I worship Ma’at. Zoo’s told you about his relationship with the Great Lady and you said you were cool with that!”
“I know. But the Great Lady doesn’t swing by and whisk him off to weird places. He’s not getting breakfast made by West African demigods. A demigod cooks for you, Kira!”
“Keep your voice down, okay?” Kira darted a glance around the bar. Both Khefar and Zoo looked up from their game. She waved to them. Zoo made some sort of joke before they resumed their play.
“You spent a lot of time with Anansi in Cairo. You didn’t flip out then.”
A petulant look crossed Wynne’s face. “I was worried about you then. I didn’t really have time to think about the meaning of the Universe or the metaphysical origins of it.”
“You don’t have to worry about it now. It’ll just make your head hurt.”
“I know. A soldier can get seriously fucked-up if they start questioning their place. I mean, before, we were helping you fight bad guys. I didn’t take the time to think about what those bad guys were. It was fun to be able to be all badass and undercover. But after what happened to you in the club, with that Fallen, and in Cairo, and actually seeing a seeker demon with my own eyes … everything’s upside down now.”
“Geez, Wynne, are you having a crisis of faith? You’re not even religious!”
“That’s the messed up part in all of this!” Wynne exclaimed. “I haven’t been a practicing anything in ages. Zoo’s got his goddess but I don’t know if he’s actually seen her, or even had a conversation with her.”
She threw a hand out. “But you—you’ve had face-to-face talks with Ma’at, and Khefar’s done the same thing with Isis. I mean, those names are part of fairy tales to me. And then there’s Anansi, the cooking, traveling, joking, licorice-eating spider god who lives in your house.” Wynne let out a hysterical laugh. “Do you even realize how crazy this sounds?”
“I know it would sound crazy to Normals,” Kira said, not knowing what to say to ease Wynne’s confusion. “I can see this is bothering you. You know I never tried to convince you of anything when it comes to faith and religion. I think everyone should find their own way, like Jews, Christians, and Muslims all worship the same god, but in different ways.”
“I know, and I appreciate that you didn’t try to press anything on me. Zoo hasn’t either.” Wynne wiped at her eyes carefully to avoid ruining her heavy eyeliner. “My parents were existentialists. I believed that Deity was a concept that people used as an explanation and rationalization for what they wanted to do. Now I know that deities are real, and I’ve seen one, you’ve seen several, and you and Khefar and Zoo are all protected by your goddesses. I don’t have anyone to protect me.”
Kira very carefully placed a gloved hand atop Wynne’s bare one. “Oh, Wynne. It’s not about protection. It’s about that missing piece, the little hole you have that can only be filled by a higher power.”
Wynne dipped her head. “I’ve never thought of it like that before. Maybe because I never thought to associate that incompleteness with a lack of faith.”
&n
bsp; Kira gave Wynne’s hand a squeeze. “I’m no philosopher or anything. I know there are people on Santa Costa who have spent their entire lives trying to understand the mysteries of the Universe. Even those who know about the Great Schism that created Order and Chaos say they still have a lot to learn. All I can do is tell you what I believe.”
Wynne sniffed. “What do you believe?”
“I believe that we all embody Balance. We are creative and destructive, givers and takers of life, believers and doubters in ourselves and others. We can believe in something so much that it becomes real to us. Enough believers can generate an incredible power, and give power to what they believe in.”
“So you’re saying that gods exist because people believe they exist?”
Kira nodded. “Some of them. Some of them existed before in some form or another, and those are the children of Light and Shadow. But as far as whom you should follow, that’s personal. All I can tell you is there are different types of people, there are different ways of connecting to Deity. Even if you believe Deity is within.”
“Well, obviously there are bunches to choose from. Good grief, is the Flying Spaghetti Monster real? Or Cthulhu? Should I worship Ma’at or Isis or Anansi?”
“Do not, under any circumstances, let Anansi hear you say that. His head can barely fit through the garage door as it is.”
“You’re cracking jokes on a god, you do realize that, don’t you? Can’t he kill you with a bolt of lightning or something if you piss him off?”
“Anansi is too good natured for that, and he jokes more than I do,” Kira said to ease Wynne’s sudden worry. “You have seen how he and Khefar interact, haven’t you? He’s more like a cool uncle than some being from on high. Don’t tell him I said that either.”
“Do you think I should talk to him about it? My lack of faith, I mean.”
“You don’t need my permission or approval, Wynne. But Anansi’s as good a listener as he is a storyteller. Unfortunately, he left to spend some time with his wife. I don’t know how long he’ll be gone.”
“He’s married?” Wynne’s eyes widened again. “What does his wife think of what he does? Where does he live?”
“More of those things that will make your head hurt that I was talking about earlier. You don’t want to go there.”
“Okay. All right.” Wynne sat back with a sigh. “I felt better for getting that off my chest.”
“Then, I’m glad I could be a sounding board for you. If you ever want to talk about it, you know where I am.”
“Of course you are. We girls have got to stick together.”
Kira pulled her hands back. “Of course. Speaking of girls sticking together, how about we challenge the guys to a game of pool? We need to make them pay for that ‘girly sparklies’ comment.”
“You’re on!”
Chap†er 11
Join us, daughter.
“I am not one of you. I am not a child of Chaos!”
Laughter rumbled like an earthquake. Is this how you walk in Ma’at? the dark voice mocked. Do you walk in truth only when it is easy for you?
“Ma’at is with me. Ma’at will protect me.” She channeled power into her Lightblade, reshaping it into a khopesh. The curved sword extended her reach, gave her added protection against the power staff held by the god.
She raised the blade high, shoving as much power as she could into it. “Ma’at will guide me!” she screamed, swinging the weapon with all her strength.
The blade struck home, but only succeeded in angering the god. You dare believe you have the strength to defeat me?
The was scepter pierced through shirt and skin and bone, lodging deep in her shoulder below her clavicle. Shock drove away pain for one heartbeat. On the next, agony ripped through her. She screamed. Another scream ripped from her as Set twisted the prongs deeper into her flesh.
A word of power dropped from the god’s mouth like a twenty-ton hammer, the pressure of it pushing her body deeper into the dirt. Power slammed into her, the pure brute force of Shadow magic, charged by her unwilling blood sacrifice. Her vision swam, drenched in fluorescent green. Heat engulfed her as her body instinctively struggled against the invasion, fought to combat the Chaos magic threatening to consume her.
Wake up, Kira, a voice urged, sounding far away. It’s a dream. You need to wake up. Now!
Her eyes snapped open, her brain registering bright light, pain, and the sound of dying prey. It took a moment further to realize the sound same from her. Khefar gripped her wrists, his hold like iron manacles. He glared down at her, eyes wild with fear and fury. Mostly fury.
“Sss …” She licked her lips, tried again. “Sorry. Had a bad dream, I guess.”
“Bad dream my ass.” He continued scowling. “You were fighting and screaming and now you’re bleeding.”
She looked down at her chest. Sure enough, blood stained the left side of her gray tank top close to her shoulder. Khefar looked worse for wear too, his arms decorated with a scattering of welts and cuts. “Did I fight you?”
“You reached for your Lightblade before I could wake you up. Lucky for me, I managed to disarm you before you struck a fatal blow.”
He hauled her out of bed, dragging her across the room and into the bathroom. “Sit,” he ordered, pushing her toward the toilet before stooping to open the under-sink cabinet.
She shivered. Must be the cold of the floor seeping into her bare feet. “I’m okay.”
“Shut up and sit down!”
She sat, stunned by the heat in his tone. “Hey, I said I was sorry. I didn’t realize I was sleep fighting. Must have been a really intense dream.”
He threw the first aid kit onto the counter. “Whatever that was, it wasn’t a normal bad dream and you damn well know it!”
Before she could reply, he reached out and ripped the front of her tank top apart. She grabbed the front closed, wincing. Ignoring the pain, she glared at him instead. “I’m awake now. You want me to finish that fight? You ruined my favorite top!”
He gave her a dark look. “Like the blood hadn’t already done that. You ready to talk about this?”
“Can’t we patch me up now, then talk later?” she asked, feeling drained. She had no idea what time it was, but as exhausted as she felt, the idea of going back to sleep and possibly facing the nightmare again was too much to contemplate.
“I’ve been waiting for ‘later’ to happen since we came back from London,” he said, tearing open an antibiotic gauze pack. “It hasn’t come yet.”
“I’ve had a lot to do since we got back,” she reminded him. “You know I had to hit the ground running with putting the exhibit together. I didn’t know settling Bernie’s estate was going to take that long, so I was behind schedule organizing the artifacts for my part of the show.”
“There’s always going to be something going on, Kira,” he admonished her, wiping the gauze over her skin and causing her to flinch. “I’m done with waiting.”
She steeled herself to see a wound beneath the blood, to face a barrage of questions. Neither happened.
“You’re not wounded.” He threw the bandage into the trash.
“Is it your blood, then?” She didn’t see any scratches on him deep enough to cause the amount of blood staining her shirt. Her mouth didn’t hurt either, so it hadn’t come from biting her lips.
“You have a serious bruise here, above your heart,” he said, his voice still angry. “Spreading out from two indentations. It looks like you’re healing from being stabbed by a pair of chopsticks.”
Or a was scepter, she thought. Out loud she said, “I don’t know what happened.”
She’d seen him scowl before. She’d even seen him angry. The look he gave her then actually made her heart skip a beat, and not in a good way.
“Do not lie to me, Kira Solomon,” he said, his voice sharp. “I am not so stupefied by being with you that I’ve become gullible. You are still my charge and I am still responsible for your soul. Lie to your frien
ds. Lie to yourself if you must. But never lie to me.”
At that moment, his words stung more than the ache of her fading wound. She wanted to look away from that implacable glare, but she couldn’t. Of everyone in her life, Khefar seemed to be the only one without an ulterior motive. She’d known him the shortest amount of time, but she’d trusted him with far more than she had entrusted to others. With Wynne having a faith crisis, Zoo bulking up on spellcraft and magical protections, and Balm being uncommunicative, the Nubian was the only one she could lean on. If you couldn’t depend on the man who’d made a pact to kill you with honor, whom could you trust?
His fingers entangled with hers. “You’ve been jerked out of sleep for the last four nights that I know of,” he told her. “You quit our bed and don’t come back. Tell me what’s going on.”
Damn. Kira should have known that Khefar would notice. He had an uncanny ability to gauge her mood, to turn her dark thoughts around and pull her back.
“I’ve been having dreams,” she confessed. “Not waking dreams, like what I have when I communicate across distances with Balm. Not regular dreams either. In the dreams, I’m excavating near Naqada. Comstock and I uncover a was scepter. Then a temple of Set rises from the ground and Set tells me to join him. When I refuse, he stabs me with the scepter and injects me with Chaos magic.”
Khefar’s expression blanked. No anger, no worry, only emptiness. Her heart stuttered again. She leaned forward to speak but he beat her to it.
“You’ve been having dreams of Set attacking you with his staff of power.” His tone made it seem as if they were discussing their dinner choices. “I guess he’s been hitting you here, the same spot the Fallen stabbed you?”
She nodded. The press of his fingers against her skin fluctuated somewhere between pleasure and pain. She whimpered. It was hard to be all badass with him touching her, even if there was nothing sensual about the touch.
His gaze caught hers. “This is real, Kira. This isn’t a dream. Isis and Ma’at warned us in a ‘dream’ about the Vessel of Nun and we ended up with a flooded bed.”
Shadow Fall Page 11