“Say, is that primordial fire?” I asked Sekhmet as we made our way down some stairs that were so narrow, we had no choice but to walk single-file. Even still, I had to edge sort of sideways because my shoulders were too wide to make it through. I wasn’t sure how Khufu was managing since he brought up the rear, but I was pretty sure he must be having an even tougher time of it than I was since he was quite a bit broader than me.
“Yes. It’s my specialty.” She looked over at me. “Would you like me to teach you how to do it?” Her teeth widened into a grin.
“That would be great, actually,” I said, and as the words left my lips, she slammed her palm full of fire into my forehead.
Instinctively, I started to lash out, my hands already starting to change, but then I stopped. It didn’t hurt. At all.
Knowledge flowed through me in an instant, permeating every ounce of my being. I not only understood primordial fire, but a billion ways to use it flowed across my synapses, suffusing me with all of Sekhmet’s extensive knowledge of the subject in a second.
“What are you doing?” Aziza cried, grabbing my shoulder as she moved to glare at Sekhmet. “He can’t absorb godly knowledge like that!”
“Yes, he can.” Sekhmet looked from me to her and back again. “He can do more than even I can. Or, at least, he will be able to.” Then her eyes narrowed, and she glared at Aziza. “I just realized you may be questioning my judgment. Is this true?” As Aziza opened her mouth to respond, Sekhmet continued, “Do you think Luke too weak to handle it?”
“I … no, it’s just …” She flushed. “He means a lot to me …”
“Ah.” Sekhmet looked at her for a long moment before turning back to me. “Are you okay, Luke?”
“Yes.” I took a deep breath. “I feel better than ever before.” I held my hand out, summoning a spherical ball of flame that lit up the alcove. “Though I appreciate you worrying about me, Zeez.”
“I’m just … not used to someone as powerful as you are, Luke.” She flushed a bit more. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“Look at that,” Khufu said, his hand moving to point out a mural that hadn’t been visible with just Sekhmet’s light.
The mural along the walls seemed to depict all of Egyptian history, only in reverse. The entrance had started with Imhotep’s death, and as we descended, time stretched out backward. I wasn’t quite sure how far the tunnel went down, but since it seemed like every step only represented a few years at best, the possibilities concerned me greatly. This could be a long ass walk.
“This is going to take a while,” Aziza said. “Even if this only represents a thousand years, it’ll be a lot of steps, and somehow, I think it’s going to stretch a lot farther back than that.”
“Or it is a trick to make us think that it’s an unconquerable distance, so we turn back,” I replied, trying to put a positive spin on things. “Either way, we’ve got to get to the bottom. So, think of something happy. Like how you don’t have a rock in your shoe.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Aziza sighed and shook her head because I was right. We had to get to the bottom of these stairs. I just hoped the tunnel wouldn’t fill with poison gas before we did so. That wasn’t very fun the last time.
“Don’t worry about it, Aziza. The walk will do you good. I hear it does wonders for one’s ass,” Khufu called from behind us. “And we can all use a better ass, am I right?”
“Always the positive one, pharaoh,” Sekhmet said, voice echoing in the tiny cavern. “We shall see how your positive attitude holds up when I dash you and your silly pyramid from this earth.”
“I doubt you’ll be doing that,” Khufu replied, but didn’t add more.
Why was he so confident about it? The way he spoke made it seem like it was fact. That concerned me because it made me think that the pyramid was part of his plan, somehow. Unfortunately, in the time we were in, the pyramid wasn’t finished yet, and it didn’t seem like it’d be done for a long while yet. Unless he was playing a really long game, I wasn’t sure how helpful a giant pyramid would be.
Then again, this Khufu was a mummy resurrected in my time. He wasn’t the actual Khufu running this place anymore. If I ventured into the pharaoh’s gleaming hall, would I find the Khufu of here and now? I shook my head. Trying to think about that might drive me a little crazy.
It took a while to reach the bottom. So long that my legs felt like jelly, and my muscles screamed. I’d long since called upon my magic for support, but even still, I was a bit out of breath.
“Finally,” Sekhmet cried, voice filled with relief as we came to a stop in front of a door made of solid obsidian what felt like days later.
I wasn’t sure how heavy it was, but it looked like it probably weighed a million tons. The mural ended at the door, fading into a sort of inky blackness that made it seem even more imposing like it was the gateway to oblivion.
Sekhmet glanced over her shoulder at me, her face shrouded in the dancing shadows cast off by her flame. “Do you want to try to open it, Luke?” There was a faint tremor in her voice. Was she scared? If so, of what? What could make the goddess known to dash evil from the universe scared?
“Okay,” I replied, and she stepped aside to let me pass by her. It was a tight squeeze, and as our bodies pressed against each other’s, she blushed though I wasn’t sure why.
When I was in front of her, I walked up to the door and pressed my hand against it. The stone was strangely warm and tacky like I was touching flesh instead of rock. I swallowed. For all I knew, I was touching flesh. Maybe some great beast was sitting against the doorway. Maybe he would turn around and try to eat us? If so, I hoped he did it soon. Then I could just knock its ass out and move on. After all, the absolute last thing I wanted to do was haul my ass back up the stairs, so I could find a magic flute or something to awaken it.
I shook away the thought and squatted down on my haunches, looking for a handhold at the bottom of the door. I wasn’t sure why, but for some reason, this door felt like it should move vertically. Unfortunately, I didn’t see anything. I started to turn my head back toward the group so I could ask their opinions when the faintest trace of sulfur filled my werewolf nose.
I sniffed again. Sulfur, for sure.
“Do you smell that?” Aziza asked, speaking for the first time in so long I didn’t immediately recognize her voice as it echoed off the walls.
Before I could respond, hands exploded from the floor, the walls, everywhere. They were thin black things that reminded me of charred skeletons. They grabbed hold of me and pulled, yanking me in every direction at once and causing me to drop my fire. It went out as I squirmed, shattering a few of the hands and pulling myself from their grasp.
A fireball ripped through the small space, passing so close to me that it singed my hair. It smacked into the doorway and died. There wasn’t a flare or an explosion or really anything at all. The door just swallowed it completely, and we were pitched into the endless dark of a starless night. The hungry dark of a deep cave. The predatory dark of the monster in the closet.
A scream rippled through the air behind me as I tore my right arm free of the hands clutching me and reached out toward where the obsidian doorway had to be. My fingers brushed against the surface as I was jerked violently backward.
“No!” I snarled as my wolf form surged to the surface. With a sharp breath, I summoned my magic, blowing the appendages free from the walls in a burst of purple flame. Leaping to my feet, I smashed into the door like a freight train. It moved, screeching backward against the stone floor. Heat washed over me as amber firelight spilled into the tiny hallway beyond.
I put my shoulder against the stone and pushed. My muscles strained, burning within me. It moved. An inch. Two, three, a foot. The door gave way all at once, tumbling down into the dark abyss below. Fire raged in front of me, just beyond the precipice that fell into the depths of hell.
The firelight rushed past me into the hallway, and as I turned, I saw hand
s were everywhere, subduing my friends. I had to help them before hands tore their flesh to ribbons.
I strode into the room and grabbed Sekhmet by the scruff of her armor and pulled. She came free of the hands as the fingers gripping her snapped like kindling, unable to deal with my magic-fueled werewolf strength. I flung her backward beyond the door, careful not to pitch her over the edge. I did not wait to see how she landed as I grabbed Aziza and threw her through the doorway as well.
Khufu was on his knees, blood streaming from his body. He looked up as my hand seized him and jerked him free. His eyes opened wide, and his mouth fell open.
I did not waste time. I retreated, carrying him through the door and into the safety of the burning embers beyond. The hands grabbed at me, tried to grip my flesh, but their fingers were like ash, falling away as they touched my skin.
Sekhmet and Aziza were standing there, staring at me in disbelief. Their features were twisted, fearful. I moved past them, Khufu slung over my shoulder like a sack of flour. His weight was nothing to me. I reached the edge of the pit and looked down into the abyss. No, that would not do. There must be another way.
I turned back toward the others, and my shadow fell upon the wall, flickering with the light of the flames, and it brushed against a memory of a story of long ago. A story I had all but forgotten. A story I didn’t quite remember.
“Luke,” Sekhmet squawked, and the fear in her voice was like sour candy. “Luke …” She shook herself, reminding me of a great dog shaking water from its back. “This way.” She pointed into the distance. Her voice had regained its usual calmness, but I still heard her fear, still tasted the candy in her words.
I ignored it and inclined my head toward the spot she indicated. A low archway of golden metal gleamed in the firelight. Beyond it was more stairs. I did not like stairs.
28
I was at the bottom of the stairs a moment later. I glanced backward, but my companions were still a long way away. I heard them whispering among themselves but could not make out their words, even with my enhanced hearing. I had moved ahead because they smelled like fear, rancid and filthy. I did not like their fear. It concerned me.
They were scared of me. It made me wary they would attack me. Try to destroy me. If that happened, I would be ready. I would not allow them to hurt me.
No. I shook off that thought, banishing it to the back of my mind. They were my allies. I should not distrust them …
I stood and sniffed the air. The stink of sulfur and ash was stronger down here. The air was so thick and humid that I could taste it. Wavy lines trailed off the black stone as I padded along. It burned me, but not enough for it to matter. My feet healed between each step.
The path in front of me forked off, but they both smelled the same. I did not like this. I did not know which to pick.
It would mean splitting up to explore both or committing to one that could wind up being folly if we stuck together. I already knew what the others would decide. They would decide to split. Only … only Khufu could not be trusted. That much was clear. He must stay with me.
Yes. I must walk with the pharaoh into the path … only which one? Which path would be correct …?
I crept forward and stared at the twin doors, one glittering like rubies cast from a fire, the other like freshly spilled blood. In the center of each door was the image of a man, the sun at his back and the moon at his front. He faced outward, hands outstretched. The same man upon both doors.
I didn’t like it.
I touched the blood door, and it felt hot and slick. I sniffed, and the smell of copper and rust came alive in my nose. No. I would not venture into the blood door. That left the other…
I pressed my hand against it, and it shattered beneath my fingers, exploding into a trillion scintillating shards. They crashed to the ground with a sound so loud, it hurt my ears as it echoed across the room. One of my allies shrieked, but the sound seemed far away. Farther away than it should have. I fought the urge to turn. Instead, I watched the opening. My ears perked up, listening. The musky smell of snake filled my nostrils as I stared into the darkness.
Snakes or blood. Neither were good choices. I shook my head and thought. The stone beneath my feet rumbled. Fire leaped upward from the abyss. The burning geyser splashed against the ceiling and sprayed outward, painting the room in dancing flames for the space of a moment.
There was something inside the door. Just past where I could see. It had been revealed for the space of an instant. Skin black and mottled. Talons like a lion. Teeth like a crocodile. Eyes like the soul of hell itself.
It watched from beyond the door. Its smirk had been daring. “Come,” its smirk had said.
“Come, and I will feast on your heart.” The sound slipped from the tunnel, on the cusp of my hearing. It was lower than the belly of a serpent, scraping across the ground, slithering into my ears. It was a challenge, a boast. It did not think I would. “Come, and I will learn how heavy your soul has become.”
“Choose blood if you dare,” it said. “Come if you wish to be judged.”
“Luke, what is it?” Sekhmet called. She wasn’t as far away now, maybe a few yards away. I listened to her move, to her hit the bottom step and come toward me.
“Something is in there. It smells like snakes and clings to the darkness.” Fire leaped again as I spoke, but the creature must have moved because I did not see it this time.
Sekhmet came to my side and rested a hand on my arm. She stared into the darkness, her face a mask of determination. “I cannot see into the depths.” She looked up at me. “Maybe we should try the other door?” She turned toward the blood door, and as she reached her hand toward it, I seized her wrist. It was so small in my grip, so puny seeming. How could this girl be a god? How could she break darkness over her knee and be scared of me? How had she dared to fight me?
“No,” I said. I released her because I knew she would not disobey. Not now. Not here. Her fear made her weak, and I was strong. I would lead.
I stepped through the doorway, and the air hit me like a dank breath. The smell of reptiles permeated every inch of the space.
“So, you come, Luke Peters?” it asked, still clinging to the darkness like a cowardly shadow.
“I come,” I replied. I strode forward unafraid. I was strong.
Something scrabbled across the stone, claws scraped at the rock. I did not turn away. I was not afraid.
“Come out and judge me,” I said. “You will not find me wanting, shadow clinger.”
“I do not cling to the shadows,” it spoke from the darkness.
“Then step forth, lest I judge you.” My lips pulled back to reveal my fangs. “I shall find you wanting.”
It struck. Quick as a flash and twice as deft. I did not move. I let it sink its teeth into my thigh. Pain like a million suns burned in my veins, but I pushed it away to die beneath the force of my will. Its paw lashed outward. I caught it, gripping it in one hand as I stared down into its beady eyes.
I struck back. I drove my claws downward. The creature screamed, gilded blood splashing across my fur. It tried to pull away, but I held it fast. “You will let me pass.” I released it, and it scurried back into the darkness.
The stink of wet gold filled the air along with its lack of response. I turned my head back toward the entrance.
“Come,” I called.
Sekhmet was by my side a moment later. She glanced at my leg but made no comment. Already it was healed over, the beast’s attack rendered meaningless.
In the distance, something whispered, and Sekhmet called forth her flame. It filled the space in front of us, banishing the darkness. The creature lay on the ground a few yards away, golden ichor spilling out from a wound on its side. It was bleeding the same blood as Sekhmet. It was bleeding god blood.
Its head was like a crocodile. Its body was huge, like a hippopotamus, but covered in golden fur like a lion. A mane fell around its head as it lay there, panting.
“A
mmit,” Sekhmet said, moving past me and kneeling next to the beast. “Why are you here?”
“To see if he is worthy,” the beast replied. Its body shuddered as Sekhmet turned eyes of cold fury upon me. “He may pass.”
29
“Is there a problem?” I said, but it was hard because my throat was dry. I’d long since turned back into my human form, and as such was thirsty as hell. I licked my lips, trying to work up some moisture as Khufu swiveled his big head toward me.
“No.” He shrugged as Aziza turned and stared at me, an odd expression on her face. Ahead of her, Sekhmet had stopped, but she hadn’t deigned to so much as turn around and look at me.
“It kind of seems like there is a problem,” I said, waving my hands at them. “None of you have spoken in a while.”
“There isn’t a problem.” Khufu raised an eyebrow at me, and as I went to reply, he turned back around. “Hey, Sekhmet, let me lead for a while.” He strode past Aziza. When he reached Sekhmet, he touched her arm lightly before moving past her. Still, the goddess did not move, remaining so still that it was like she’d become a statue.
“Okay …” I said, not quite sure why everyone was so angry at me. Hadn’t I saved everyone from the skeleton hands and defeated the monster in the tunnel? “What’s going on?”
“You almost killed Ammit,” Aziza said, still staring at me. Her voice was like mouse whispers, soft and scurrying over the distance between us.
“Was that the thing in the tunnel?” I asked, walking up to her. She shied away, taking a step backward before catching herself and holding her ground.
“Yes.” She followed up the word by nodding at me.
“So?” I asked. “Wasn’t he a bad guy?”
“I never can tell exactly how much you know about our culture, Luke. Do you even know who Ammit is?” She suppressed a smile so that her lips were a thin line with the very edges turned up.
King of the Gods Page 16