Reunited

by Colleen Houck

  “So you’ve seen it, then?”

  “I’ve been in its vicinity. Didn’ plan on it. Apep drove me there. ’Tis his home, ya see.”

  “Did you go mad when you saw it?”

  “Naw. Was smart enough to blindfold meself when I got close. Drove my passengers mad, though. Ghosts can’t cover their eyes.”

  “What happened?”

  “They jumped. Every last one of ’em jumped ship and swam for it. Easy pickin’s for Apep. I kept my blindfold on until the boat reached gentler waters.”

  I swallowed. “So we’ll need to blindfold ourselves, then?”

  “I reckon we will.”

  “And all these ghosts will…”

  “They’ll be food for the monster.” I looked at the ghosts surrounding us, focusing on the little girl who sat just at the edge of Cherty’s circle and watched me with wide eyes. Suddenly, I felt sorry for them. They didn’t seem as frightening to me anymore. Not after knowing they were headed to a second sort of doom.

  They were just shadowed versions of the people they once were. Somewhere, somebody mourned them. They were fathers, grandparents, doctors, kids, teachers. Some of them were not entirely human, but I imagined they had families, too. It was a terrible thought that their afterlife would end in such a gruesome way.

  Tia spoke up then and told me all about the second death. I knew the basics of what the Devourer could do, but when they told me back on the farm, I was trying to ignore them. Pretend it all wasn’t real. The thought that Asten, Ahmose, and Amon could experience this second death didn’t sit well with me. If we died, Tia and Ashleigh would experience a second death. They’d blink out of existence. Maybe I would, too. I wasn’t sure it would work like that, since technically I was still alive. At least, I thought I was.

  A bevy of ghosts clung to the masts, their bodies shifting in the breeze like torn flags. Their faces wore a variety of expressions, but the one most common was resignation. A prickle of foreboding crept over me, the sensation as unsettling as bugs crawling on my skin. Ahmose had mentioned something dangerous was coming. He knew.

  “So Apep eats the dead?” I asked.

  “Oh, Apep’ll eat pretty much anythin’. He’s gotten a bit fat an’ lazy the las’ few centuries. Hasn’t had ta work as hard as when ’e was young.”

  “I see. And what, exactly, is he?” I continued, not really wanting to hear the answer.

  “Didn’ I tell ya? Thought I did.”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “Oh, well, Apep, he’s a giant snake. The original one. Some call ’im the devil. Some say he’s a dragon. But I’ve seen him up close an’ personal-like. An’ he’s a snake, sure as anythin’. A special one, o’ course. Bigger than anythin’ ya’ve ever seen. He slithers among the stars. Makes the river his huntin’ ground. But his home, his nest, is on that island. Drawn ta it, he is. He only ventures out when he’s hungry. Which is pretty frequently.”

  “And Asten and Amon are trapped there?”

  “Seems so.”

  “Are they safe?”

  “If they’re in an oubliette, they should be safe enough. Apep’ll leave em alone so long as he can’t see or smell ’em.”

  “No wonder nothing can get to them,” I said. “They’re protected by a giant cosmic snake.”

  “I wouldn’ say ‘protected.’ Like as not, he don’ know they’re there.”

  Later, after rejecting Cherty’s dinner offer of a black eel he described as one of Apep’s offspring, I drifted off to sleep. Then, what must have been hours later, the ship lurched, and I jolted upright. The soft murmurs from the ghosts had turned into a frenzied trill, like the ominous buzz of cicada wings times a thousand. “What’s wrong?” I shouted, darting to my feet. Cherty strained as he pulled ropes and tied them down.

  “Apep’s found us!” he cried. “He’s pickin’ off the ghosts in our wake!”

  I spun around and peered out at the water behind the ship. The ghosts thrashed around, desperately trying to grab on to their fellows. Cherty pointed to a surging beneath the waves, and I saw a huge coil rise and sink below the water. It sparkled. The scales as beautiful as rainbows. When I looked closer, I could see that the body was actually black, but it was so shiny that the stars glinted off its form turning the scales green, blue, and gold.

  If I hadn’t been deathly afraid of it, I’d have loved to see the animal up close. I spied one loop and then another but didn’t catch a glimpse of its head. Pulling the bow across my back, I nocked an arrow, aiming for a hump when it emerged from the water. “No point, girlie,” Cherty said, placing a hand on my arm. “Yer arrows won’t work on such as him.”

  “Even the arrows of Isis?”

  “Even hers.”

  “Then how do we fight him?”

  “We don’. Bes’ we can do is hope he fills ’is belly fast and then heads home ta sleep it off.”

  “So there’s nothing we can do to protect them?”

  “Nah. Try ta ignore it.”

  “Ignore it?” I echoed incredulously. “They’re screaming out there.”

  “Yeah. Ya would, too, if ya were getting devoured by such as ’im.”

  The pitiful cries of the ghosts rose over the water. I caught a glimpse of the tail, and it was thicker than a semitruck. If that was the caboose, I’d hate to see the engine. I tried to follow Cherty’s instructions. I had no interest in the ghosts. There was no obligation to save them, but something tore through me, and I knew I had to act.

  Tia joined me first, and then Ashleigh added her power to ours. We summoned Wasret. A great wind rose around us, and power filled my veins. My voice was thunder as I reached for the creature’s true name and sent howling gales to pummel the beast. “Hollow Serpent,” I cried, but all three of us knew it wasn’t quite right. “Come to me.”

  The thrashing in the water stilled, and the six visible humps sunk beneath the waves. I wasn’t sure if I’d committed enough to the power of Wasret to actually use it effectively. It was something I was still frightened of. I thought if I truly gave myself over to it, to her, one hundred percent, I’d lose myself. So I held back. Each of us did. None of us wanted to lose our identity. We all hoped it was enough.

  Nothing happened for the space of several minutes, but then next to the ship, the waters parted, and an enormous head lifted from the Cosmic River and swayed in the air above us. Black droplets showered down on our heads. Angling its body, Apep peered at me with opal eyes the size of a witch’s cauldron.

  Foolish mortal, it said in my mind. Those who disturb my dinner, become my dinner.

  I stood horrified, frozen in place, my mouth gaping. A long, forked tongue darted out from the monster’s mouth and tasted the air. My body shivered uncontrollably at the sight. The two of us peered at one another, unmoving, even when Ahmose and Cherty both stepped between us.

  The former summoned a gleaming weapon that materialized from unseen sand particles caught between the boards on the deck of the ship. He brandished it threateningly, his corded arm ready to swing. The latter clutched two long sticks with sharpened points, holding them in his chapped, knuckly hands loosely enough that I could tell he had much experience in their use.

  “Don’ look ’im in the eye, girlie,” Cherty said. “Apep’s stare’s hypnotic. Can convince ya to walk right inta ’is belly and make ya think yer strollin’ through a flower garden.”

  The snake opened its jaws in a wicked imitation of a smile, showing off thick fangs that sharpened into deadly points and gleamed in the starlight. You spoil all my fun, Apep said petulantly, his voice penetrating our minds. You know I like to give my prey a fighting chance. Most of the time. Not that they have a lot of fight left in them by the time they end up on your ship.

  Apep swung his head back and forth as if trying to shove Cherty and Ahmose aside, but neither man was intimidated enough to move, which I found remarkable. All things taken into account, I didn’t think we stood a chance against the creature. Not with the puny weapon
s at our disposal. The snake was too large. He could crush our ship with just the tiniest effort and then pick us off, swallowing us down at his leisure.

  “The girl didn’ mean anythin’ by it,” Cherty said interrupting my thoughts. “Take yer fill o’ these an’ leave the livin’ alone. There’s plenty here ta keep yer belly from achin’ without actin’ greedy.”

  I thought Cherty’s words were pretty bold, considering. Apparently, his conscience didn’t suffer much at the idea of losing his passengers. The snake hissed and lifted a heavy coil out of the water, then slapped it down. Part of his body must’ve hit the ship heavily enough, because we listed to one side and had trouble keeping our footing.

  Ah, the snake said. What you say is true enough. The scent of the dead you carry is strong, which indicates your boat is full to capacity. Well, it was, until I finished my first course. But now that my appetite is whetted, I’m ready for dinner.

  At his words, the dead moaned and shook. They pushed and shoved one another to the far corners of the ship. Each was desperately trying to get away from the creature, who flicked his great horned head to see them better. I caught a glimpse of the snake’s underbelly, which gleamed as if it had been covered in smooth garnet stone. Again I was struck with how lovely my impending death looked.

  Even if they did fill me, Apep said, I cannot allow a young girl who wields such power to enter my realm. You should know better, Cherty, than to bring one such as her to this place. It’s been a long time since you’ve dared enter my waters.

  Ahmose spoke next. “Great Apep, we are about the business of the gods. Seth has been freed, and we must stop him at all costs. Even you must be aware of the chaos he engenders. We promise that we will not remain in your territory long. If you allow us peaceful passage, we won’t cause you any harm.”

  The snake reared up, his great sides spasming at the gills, pushing out brackish water that effervesced and trickled down the beast’s scaly body. It splashed on the wooden deck, where it steamed and festered. It took me a moment to figure out that Apep was laughing and not churning out poisonous muck in an attempt to smother us. He whipped his head around and then, quick as a flash, sank right down to stare at Ahmose. The snake’s black eyes twinkled with malice. All it would take was a snap, and Ahmose would be no more.

  You pathetic weaklings cannot harm me, the snake declared with a hiss. The very idea of it is nonsensical. As for Seth and the other gods, I pay them no heed. They can destroy one another and their realms for all I care. It just means more food for me. Now, why don’t the two of you step aside and let me talk to the little girl who thinks she knows me?

  Apep hesitated only for a second to wait and see if he’d be obeyed. Then he reared his head back and slammed it down on the deck, splintering it. Both Cherty and Ahmose fell through the gaping hole. Instinct had made my claws come out. I dug them into the side of the ship, which prevented me from falling in after them.

  Before I could consider a wiser course, I scrambled to the broken edge of the deck and cried, “Ahmose? Cherty?”

  There was no answer, and I couldn’t see either one of them in the black innards of the ship. They might be impaled on a shaft of wood or lying with broken bones, unable to get up. The boat trembled and groaned and then, slowly, before my eyes, began repairing itself. The splinters and shards lifted into the air and positioned themselves back into their proper places. In the space of just a moment, the deck was repaired, sealing the two fallen men inside the dark hollow of the ship.

  I gasped in shock and pounded a flat hand against the deck. “No!” I cried. “Ahmose? Can you hear me?” Again there was no answer, at least not until I heard a hiss. I froze in place, my back to the predator that hunted me. I felt a funnel of hot, moist air lift the hair on the back of my neck. Another whoosh of it blew over me again, and I knew it was the fetid breath of the beast—reeking and repellant. Slowly, I turned and stood to face the monster alone. I drew my weapons from over my shoulders and pressed the buttons to turn my knives into spears.

  An odious ecstasy lit the snake’s face. As I considered him, a disgustful curiosity overwhelmed me. There was something broken in the creature. Wasret’s abilities still buzzed through my body, and the need to name him became crushing. Though he was powerful, I saw in him a gauntness, a haunting sickness, an unending hunger that could never be satisfied. He was…malformed. Unnatural. He didn’t fulfill a purpose in the cosmos. Apep was an aberration.

  Though the snake was close enough to wrap his jaws around me, he seemed as curious about me as I felt about him.

  “What made you?” I asked.

  What? What did you say? the snake demanded incredulously.

  “I asked what made you? I know it wasn’t a who. It wasn’t Amun-Ra. You’re older than Amun-Ra, aren’t you? That would make you older than the cosmos. Right?”

  I had an awful feeling rolling through my body, a premonition that I had asked something I shouldn’t have. That whatever happened next would taint the world and cause evil to sprout up like mushrooms on rotten ground. The snake gave a great shudder, as if my words had cut him deeply enough that he could feel them in his blood.

  Beads of water trickled down my temple and through my hair. I wasn’t sure if it was from the ocean spray or sweat. Either way, it chilled me down to my bones. The water droplets felt like tiny worms slithering across my scalp. The ghosts had stilled, watching our exchange with mouths pressed so tight, not even air could escape. They huddled in the dark corners of the ship like cockroaches hiding from the light, their pale limbs knotted together like macabre pretzels.

  I took a step toward the creature. “The place you come from, it’s deep. Unfathomably deep. You swallow up these poor beings so you yourself aren’t swallowed up and sucked back into the place you came from.”

  Who are you? The snake asked in a whisper of a voice. How did you come to know these things?

  Retracting one of my spears and putting it back in its sheath, I pushed my sea-tangled hair away from my face and stretched out one hand. The snake, shocked at my action, shifted away, causing the boat to rock wildly, but it didn’t retreat to the water. I crossed the deck and touched my hand to its black side. Despite my expectations, the snake’s body was warm.

  “Yes,” I said softly, channeling my power with greater ease than I ever had before. “Your path has been broken. Grief and the weight of what you’ve lost have sharpened your fangs.”

  When I touched him, my mind swam with visions of a darkness so complete that not even light could escape from it. He’d existed in a void. Like a black hole. The pressure, though terrible, was at least familiar. Then there was a rending, a thrashing, and an expelling. Apep had been torn in two. Split down the middle. Part of him had been cut away, and then there was the part that made his home here. That was the piece that we saw.

  The snake’s mind was utterly foreign to me. The place in which he existed now was eerie and frightening—the worst kind of prison. But the blackness wasn’t the place that scared him; he was afraid for that part he’d left behind.

  “Now I understand,” I said to the creature, stroking his smooth black scales. “You are the hunger, the desolation. You’re a slave to your disposition. The part that was left behind made you whole. More than anything, you long to be reunited. Do you know how it happened?”

  I do not, the snake hissed. I have ranged to the edge of the cosmos and back. I have found no trace of my other half. Perhaps the splitting was an accident. Perhaps it was a surgical cut devised by a villain in the grand theater of the cosmos. I was the unwanted portion, tossed aside. There’s no way for me to know.

  “Maybe you can be healed,” I said. “I can try to help.”

  There’s no help for one such as me. My nature makes me what I am. And what I am is hungry. His eyes changed. The very countenance of his face blackened to even darker than his shiny skin.

  Come to me, young one, he said silkily, his voice making all the noise of the ship and the churning
water around me disappear. You are the tincture that will soothe my parched throat. Come into my mouth, and I will cover you like a storm covers the sea. You will drown in me, but it will be a peaceful death, like lying on a carpet of moss as the pale moonbeams slowly drain the life from your body.

  I obeyed. I climbed up onto the mossy hill and lay down, cushioning my head on the spongy bed. It was peaceful. The voice was right. This was my path, my purpose. My body would feed the hunger of the cosmos. There was a horrible sting, a pressure on my leg. But I soon forgot about it and rested again. My mouth tasted funny, like I’d bitten into a rotten peach. The bitter, swollen taste turned into a burning that licked my veins with fire. I whimpered.

  Then a great explosion rocked me violently from my bed. It was dark, with just a strip of light at the base of the door. My leg was pinned to the bed, and it hurt badly. Suddenly, the door flew open, but it opened the wrong way. The thing poking my leg wrenched away, and I realized exactly where I was. In the mouth of the snake.

  I’d walked right into Apep’s mouth. His fang had pierced my calf, and the poison was already working. Moving through my system and numbing my limbs. The snake’s body wrenched back and forth, and I slid out of his mouth, hanging on to his slippery fang as he flung himself side to side.

  My stomach fell as the snake dove toward the boat, and I caught sight of a wrathful Ahmose, dripping with wet from the Cosmic River. Beautiful in his fury. As we passed him, his eyes opened wide and he made as if to catch me, but the snake moved too fast. Ahmose lifted his arms above his head and chanted a spell. It was loud enough that when the head of the snake climbed high over the boat, I could still hear it. Ahmose’s spell caused great flaming boulders to drop from the sky. Heavy meteors fell all around us, some splashing into the Cosmic River with a sizzling hiss, others hitting the snake’s coils, each one causing an explosion.

  The poison did its work, and my arms could no longer support my weight. I plummeted toward the river, dropping as hard as one of the heavy, bitter-smelling meteors. I was alert enough to hope that I wouldn’t die upon impact. When I hit the water, bones audibly shattered, but the pain died quickly as I sank beneath the waves. The last thought I had before I blacked out was that the snake had been right. Death was like a peaceful drowning.