Pantheon (The Tamar Black Saga)

by Nicola Rhodes

  ‘But you aren’t a human,’ said Hecate.

  ‘Yes I am – technically,’ said Tamar with a grin. ‘It’s just that I’m also a Djinn. Or rather I have a Djinn’s power.’

  ‘Very clever,’ said Denny. ‘Machiavellian even.’

  ‘It was risky, though,’ said Hephaestus. ‘Hey I can hear you,’ he turned to where he thought Denny was standing.

  ‘I’m over here,’ said Denny.

  Hephaestus spun. ‘How can I hear you?’ he said.

  Denny shrugged mischievously, and Tamar laughed.

  Hephaestus turned to Aphrodite. ‘Can you hear him?’ he demanded.

  Aphrodite looked non-committal. ‘You can, can’t you?’ he said.

  ‘Well I can,’ said Hecate.

  ‘How?’ asked Hephaestus in a bewildered tone.

  ‘It’s her,’ said Aphrodite pointing rudely at Tamar. ‘It has to be.’

  Tamar shrugged. ‘Not as far as I know,’ she said.

  ‘What else could it be?’ asked Aphrodite.

  ‘Who cares,’ said Tamar a little snippily. She was, understandably, put out that her glorious victory over Jham was taking a poor back seat to this new development.

  ‘I care,’ said Hephaestus only to receive a warning look from Aphrodite.

  ‘I think I might know the answer,’ said Hecate shrewdly. And she pointed to the lamp now currently housing the most powerful Djinn in the vicinity.

  ‘It happened when Tamar trapped the Djinn. It cannot be a coincidence surely. It is the power of the Djinn.’

  Suddenly Tamar’s face lit up. ‘I never had that kind of power,’ she said. ‘Do you think …’ She turned to Hecate beseechingly. ‘Could it … could he …?’ She was thinking of course, of Denny. She might not have ever had the power to raise the dead, but a Djinn like Jham … But Hecate was shaking her head sadly.

  ‘He is now the property of Apollo,’ she told Tamar. ‘That was the deal.’ she shrugged. ‘I am sorry.’

  Tamar shrugged lightly herself. ‘Oh well,’ she said with rather overdone carelessness. ‘I’ll get him back eventually, I just thought, he might be handier right now if he were – you know… corporeal.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Hecate consolingly. And moved to lay her hand on Tamar’s shoulder but Tamar had turned away, a bitter look on her face. To have had hope dangled before her even for a second had only enforced her determination to win this thing and get him back. If she had to slaughter every last deity in the world and throughout the whole of time, she would do it gladly. He was worth more than all of them put together. Not just to her either.

  ~ Chapter Thirteen ~

  ‘Well. What next?’ said Tamar, recovering her equilibrium with remarkable speed. The question was greeted with blank looks all round.

  ‘Don’t you know?’ asked Hephaestus eventually.

  ‘Well …’ Tamar looked at Nemesis helplessly. ‘I thought it would be obvious,’ she said.

  Nemesis shrugged indifferently. ‘The answer is there,’ she said carelessly, ‘if you care to look.’

  Tamar looked at the lamp in frustration. ‘What?’ she snapped. ‘I’m not getting anything.’

  Nemesis began to laugh softly – a low unpleasant laugh which annoyed Tamar no end.

  She snapped. It never took long.

  ‘I’m in charge here,’ she said in a dangerously low voice. ‘So tell me now, or I will make you wish you had never died.’

  ‘I already wish that,’ said Nemesis with unconvincing bravado. Tamar had learned from Denny the art of making a threat into a vision of a terrible future that was definitely going to manifest one way or another.

  Nemesis was trembling; she was well aware of just what Tamar was capable of doing to her. Sending her to Tartarus was only the half of it. She just had not realised that Tamar knew it too.

  ‘I’m a quick study,’ said Tamar reading her thoughts. The truth was that she really had no idea what the power of Hades was capable of doing, but she could bluff with no cards at all when she had to, and she could outstare the Basilisk in a pinch.

  Nemesis fell for it anyway. She dropped her eyes and muttered. ‘Take a magic carpet ride.’

  ‘Why?’ demanded Tamar (instead of saying “how?”, as most people would have done).

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Nemesis, ‘that’s the next step, that’s all I know.’

  ‘And how in the name of thunder was that obvious?’ said Tamar.

  Nemesis looked at her feet.

  ‘A magic carpet ride to where?’ said Tamar.

  Nemesis shrugged. ‘I honestly don’t know,’ she said.

  Tamar glared at her.

  ‘But I do know it has to be a certain magic carpet that will take you to the right place,’ she said hurriedly.

  ‘What magic carpet?’ said Tamar – it was like pulling teeth she thought.

  ‘Aladdin’s of course,’ said Nemesis in surprise and a light dawned on Tamar. Of course, how else was the mortal, who was expected to be on this ridiculous quest, supposed to get out of here? Those who had set it up originally had not known that the quester would be a former Djinn with powers of her own.

  In that context, it was pretty obvious.

  The magic carpet would then take her to the next challenge, whether she liked it or not.

  * * *

  ‘Are you sure you don’t have any idea where we’re supposed to be going?’ Tamar asked Nemesis for the fifteenth time. She would far rather have teleported straight there than have all this palaver. Not to mention that balancing precariously on a hovering square of broadloom with a bunch of nervous and, therefore, squabbling gods was not her (or anybody’s) idea of a good time.

  ‘Egypt,’ this was Denny and he said it because that’s where the carpet was gently coming to rest.

  Tamar groaned aloud. ‘Not the sphinx,’ she said. ‘Anything but that.’

  ‘I can think of worse things,’ muttered Denny.

  ‘Oh really?’ snapped Tamar. ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like them,’ said Denny pointing a ghostly finger at a large band of … well they certainly were not men, although they stood upright like men and were running along the sand dunes and yelling like men, and as far as Tamar was concerned, they certainly smelled like men (urrrgh) the only problem with calling them men was that each and every one of them, was at least fifteen feet high.

  Oh and they all had the head of a dog. A minor detail that Tamar was inclined at the moment to consider irrelevant.

  Aphrodite, rather predictably, shrieked.

  ‘What are they?’ asked Proteus in a tone of careful inquiry.

  ‘I have no idea,’ admitted Tamar. Then she squared her shoulders and hopped off the carpet and went forward to greet the … whatever they were.

  ‘What a woman,’ sighed Proteus, as Tamar stood squarely in their path and held up a hand like a traffic cop at the oncoming hordes.

  ‘You have no idea,’ said a voice in his ear, making him jump. ‘And you had better not be getting any ideas either,’ continued the voice of Denny. ‘She’ll eat you alive believe me. Now that’s interesting,’ he ended in a different tone of voice.

  He had noticed the hordes had stopped short, hit in the face by Tamar’s invisible power; this was not entirely unexpected, but every single one of them falling on his knees before her was a little surprising. Tamar’s face indicated that she thought the same.

  ‘Interesting,’ she muttered.

  Well it was.

  ‘What do you make of it?’ she asked Denny when, after a few minutes, they still had not moved.

  Denny gave a shrug. He could not have cared less really – being dead does that to you.

  ‘Dunno,’ he said. ‘Cover em with a sandstorm and let’s get out of here.’

  Tamar frowned. ‘You’re slipping,’ she said.

  ‘Slipping?’ he asked.

  ‘Becoming indifferent to the world,’ she said. ‘Letting go. Don’t, I still need you.’

  ‘I can’t
seem to help it,’ he said. ‘It all seems so … small now.’

  Denny grinned his old grin at her and her heart ached.

  She turned abruptly away. Back to business.

  She touched the lead warrior on the shoulder. ‘Get up,’ she said.

  It rose slowly and ponderously to its feet and gazed down at her, a bewildered look in its limpid doggy eyes. And suddenly Tamar understood what she was seeing and was filled with a terrible pity and a raging fury at whoever had done this. Some bored god no doubt. Oh BLAST! BLAST! BLAST!

  All magic consists of knowing one extra fact. The legendary army of Anubis was really just this – genetic manipulation at its most cruel and pointless.

  There was a faint thudding sound from behind them; they all turned – a man in a long white sheet, as Denny saw it anyway, was running toward them. When he arrived he too threw himself on his knees before Tamar, to her considerable astonishment.

  ‘Please,’ he stuttered breathlessly. ‘Please … my master… my master has sent me … to ask … please … call off your army… we will … we will …’

  ‘Stop right there,’ interrupted Tamar. ‘And get up for God’s… For the sake of Amun Ra. No one’s going to hurt you.’

  The man rolled his eyes. ‘Amun Ra,’ he intoned. ‘Amun Ra,’

  Tamar pinched the bridge of her nose wearily. ‘Oh for fu… for … Oh hell.’

  Suddenly she lost her temper. It was all too much. The squabbling gods the stupid quest (oh how she hated a quest) the poor dog men, this blubbering idiot and on top of all this, Denny was dead, dead! She kicked the man viciously. ‘Take me to your master,’ she barked. ‘Now!’

  * * *

  The man could not see the gods, Tamar realised. He took no notice of anyone but her. And it was a few minutes before she understood the reason for this. This man had his own gods. The Greek gods, quite literally, did not exist for him. This was a new spin on mythology that Tamar had not considered before. And it started a train of thought in her head that she decided to put on one side for now to examine later.

  It was a palace and Tamar knew that this alone, in this part of the world, was sufficient reason for it to be attacked. Such treasures were the property of whoever had the strength to seize them.

  The master of this palace, however, was something of a shock.

  Barely 25 years old and … oh no, it was not fair…. His dark eyes, hair and complexion notwithstanding, the features, the stance, the grin… It was Denny to the life. A negative view as it were. Dark where Denny was fair.

  Tamar hated him instantly and unequivocally simply for standing there and breathing in and out as if it were no big deal.

  ‘Evil twin?’ said Denny in her ear. He had seen it too. Tamar did not answer. She was clenching and unclenching her hands and grinding her teeth.

  She forced herself to calm down. She wanted some answers, didn’t she? Besides she was painfully aware that had Denny been standing next to her, in the flesh, as it were, she would have been highly amused at the situation. Particularly as this boy was gaping at her in a manner that was very familiar to her.

  It turned out (once she had explained that she was not in command of the horrible army and that she was a stranger in these parts) that it was not his palace that his warlike neighbour was after, he had one of his own even more magnificent. It was his labyrinth, or rather, the treasure held therein.

  At this revelation, Tamar’s eyebrows went up. A labyrinth sounded like a quest type of thing, particularly one with mysterious treasure inside it.

  The boy, whose name was Atsu was more interested in Tamar’s apparent ability to control the dreaded army of Anubis, which he had not anticipated would be sent after him. His enemy, the son of a pig, must have made great sacrifice to the god of the dead to have been gifted with such an advantage.

  ‘I guess whatever is in that labyrinth must be worth a lot?’ hinted Tamar.

  Atsu shook his head. ‘It is forbidden,’ he said. ‘Many of my best soldiers have tried the labyrinth and never returned. It is locked up now forevermore. I have the key hidden in a secret place.’ He looked up sharply at Tamar’s face as if he regretted saying this and was wondering what had come over him.

  Tamar laughed. ‘Then why not let your enemy try it if he wants to so much?’ she said. ‘It would be one way to be rid of him, would it not?’

  But again, Astu shook his head. ‘We cannot risk that he may find what it is he seeks within.’

  ‘Oh, this is it,’ thought Tamar, ‘it has to be. I’ve got to get into that labyrinth.’

  ‘Seduce him,’ suggested Denny. ‘He’s clearly up for it.’

  Tamar’s eyes widened. ‘What?’ she hissed. ‘Are you kidding?’

  Denny shrugged. The dead are beyond jealousy. Denny really did not care anymore.

  ‘Well, I still care,’ thought Tamar indignantly, as she realised this. However there was something in the idea. She would not have to take it too far, just far enough to get into his room where it was almost a certainty that he kept his key. Then she could bash him on the head or something and take it.

  This was a plan full of holes as she was well aware. But then again, all their plans were full of holes, and yet they still managed to make most of them work anyway. It was a gift.

  She absolutely refused point blank to admit the idea that there was even the faintest possibility that she was remotely attracted by Atsu. That she was lonely, and he was a more than adequate substitute for Denny who was drifting further and further away from her every day now that he was dead.

  That he even sounded a little like him, if Denny had been putting on a funny accent for a joke – which he never did actually. Or that if she closed her eyes it would be far too easy to pretend.

  He invited her to dinner, which was not entirely unexpected. Then she was shown to a sumptuous room to change.

  She sent Denny back to the underworld – this was going to be nerve- racking enough without an audience.

  Nerves? Was she nervous? she wondered, and reluctantly had to admit that she was. But why? She could handle this little pipsqueak with both hands cut off and no eyes.

  She refused to accept that it was not him she was nervous of, but rather herself.

  * * *

  Dinner was foul of course; this was a long time ago, but at least, Tamar consoled herself, there were no sheep’s eyeballs on the menu. Not that she was eating anything anyway.

  She was surprised to find that the wine was not drugged. She had half expected that it would be. The fact that he had integrity enough not to try this was only going to make things harder in the end.

  And then of course, she had to allow herself to be persuaded to go to his room. Used to issuing a stark denial and a swift kick in the pants in this type of situation, she was at a bit of a loss here as to how to proceed. Just how much reluctance was too much before it became an insulting refusal, rather than a maidenly evasion?

  She needn’t have worried. A man like this, a man with power, who has been accepted for a dinner invitation assumes the rest no matter what the woman says. Only the aforementioned swift kick in the pants would have dampened his ardour at this point, and possibly not even that.

  She let the pleading go on just long enough, she judged, before he made it an order and pissed her off to the extent that a swift kick in the head would not have been out of the realms of possibility. Then she succumbed with a strange mixture of reluctance and desire.

  In the end, it was the thought that it was Denny she was doing all this for, after all. He might be indifferent now, but once she had him back in the land of the living he would be hurt and horrified (although he would hide it well) if she let this go any further. And she would get him back – mere death was not enough against her. She had beaten him before hadn’t she?

  So, one minute she was lying on satin sheets succumbing to languorous kisses that were, disturbingly, both familiar and alien and the next he was on the floor in a crumpled heap, and she was holdin
g a shining key up to the light triumphantly.

  She had spotted the casket immediately so cunningly hidden out in the open. Ha! Like she did not know that one. So why had she let it get as far as it had?

  She shook her head. ‘Never mind that now,’ she decided. But in the back of her mind a little voice was saying “Thank God for an iron will – or who knows what might have happened” she ignored it, it was not important now.

  She met the assorted gods and ghosts at the gate of the labyrinth as planned and held up the key.

  ‘Okay, she said. ‘Let’s see what’s inside.’

  ~ Chapter Fourteen ~

  ‘Is there something wrong?’ asked Stiles nervously.

  ‘N-no,’ stammered Hecaté. ‘You just look remarkably familiar.’ She gave him a sharp look. ‘Hades?’ she snapped suddenly. ‘Is this your idea of a joke?’

  Stiles shuttled backwards under the intensity of her gaze. ‘What?’ he said.

  But Hecaté was looking hard at his face and suddenly her features relaxed. ‘No,’ she said shaking her head. ‘You are not him.’

  She appeared thoughtful for a moment. ‘I have not come to take you to the underworld,’ she decided.

  ‘You haven’t?’ asked Stiles perplexedly.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘I have another idea.’

  * * *

  They all trooped inside to be greeted, immediately, with a sharp drop in the dark.

  ‘Well. That explains the disappearing guards,’ said Tamar dusting herself off after a fall that would have killed a lesser woman instantly.

  ‘You know, we never did anything about those dog headed guys,’ said Hephaestus coming up behind her. Tamar shrugged – there really was not anything that she could do.

  ‘Spooky in here, isn’t it?’ said Aphrodite and Denny gave a low chuckle which made everybody jump.

  ‘Everybody shut up,’ said Tamar. ‘Something’s coming.’

  A bright light appeared at the end of what was now revealed to be a tunnel – well it had to be a tunnel really, if you think about it, but then again, in these magical places you never knew, it could just as easily have been a big pink cloud or a motorway bypass.