The Vessel of Ra

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The Vessel of Ra Page 13

by Catherine Schaff-Stump


  “So you say. What is written on the scroll?”

  “It will work. The titania mixes with the water, creating a strong bond. It is the perfect magic for Venice.”

  Carlo remained skeptical. “What is your package?”

  “Something we need for the ritual. Don’t worry about it.”

  Carlo worried about it, but he worried about the darkening sky more. “Storms.” Not the usual, steady dousing from acqua alta. A torrential, damaging storm, the kind sailors drowned in, clouds ranging from seal gray to inky black.

  “Those aren’t storms.” Drusus Claudian floated over them like an avenging angel, the wind he made to stay aloft flapping his broad shirt sleeves like feathers. “I know storms.” He lowered himself closer to the ground, hovering above the softness. Carlo guessed he’d had enough swamp.

  “Is that Octavia?”

  Paolo raised an eyebrow. “Why are you here, great protector? Where is your charge?”

  “Lucy’s worried about the circle,” said Drusus, looking at the sky. “She doesn’t think it will protect us from Ra.”

  “She’s wrong,” said Paolo.

  “I share the same concern,” said Carlo.

  “I have the situation under control.” Paolo watched the sky. “When she severs her tie with Ra, I have something to weaken him. If he is stabbed with it, he will die. Just in case.”

  “Lucy wants to free Ra, not kill him,” said Carlo.

  “He won’t die literally. Can you kill a god?” said Paolo. “This will send him back to the Abyss. Best to be prepared.”

  Carlo squinted, trying to see Octavia in the wisps above them. The sky mushroomed into ugly blackness. “What can we do about her?”

  Electricity sparked in Drusus’ hair, making it dance. “Borgia, whatever it is you have to do to send Ra back to the Abyss, do it. Realize if you harm Lucy in any way, I will kill you.” He glanced away from the sky for a moment, at Carlo. “I can trust you. You have her best interests at heart. Protect her.” Drusus shot into the clouds like a dart.

  Paolo cleared his throat. “He’ll have to survive to come back and take his revenge, and I’m not certain he will. Drusus Claudian, master of the weather’s temperament, gone to meet his fate. Carlo?”

  “Yes?”

  “Do as the great magician says. Make yourself useful. Claudian may have some luck, but I expect Octavia will get past him, and it will fall to you to keep Miss Lucia safe so she and I can finish using the Isis Scroll.” Paolo handed Carlo his coat. “Surely you will find something useful. With what you must have in your cloak, you are an arsenal.”

  Carlo’s stomach churned. “You know I don’t know any magic.” What if Octavia controlled him again?

  “You’re clever,” said Paolo, “and you’re part demon. Inherently magical. Figure something out.” He ran back toward Lucy.

  “I can’t—” Carlo stopped himself. No. He could. He was responsible to protect Lucy regardless. The choice had already been made when he saved her. That choice might have started with Ra, but it was his choice now. He owned it. He followed his grandfather.

  Inky drops fell from the sky. Lucy shaded herself with a red umbrella, fashioned from Julii magic. Ra circled in the dark clouds overhead, breaking them into smoke and cirrus. Octavia rode above her, the shadows shaped like a throne. Khun sat by her side, and they held hands. Octavia’s eyes were sharp, even though her face was placid. She wore only the darkness. If Lucy didn’t know better, she would have said Khun won the Trial against Octavia all those years ago. There was something new here.

  Lucy crossed her arms and hugged herself. Her feet were soaked and cold. The all-night translation was catching up to her. Sulfur made her nose run and her eyes water. “How long have you been there?” Lucy asked.

  “I just arrived,” said Octavia. “I didn’t know about you and Drusus. You never told me how you felt about him.”

  “There is nothing between Drusus and me,” said Lucy.

  “You didn’t seem the sort to steal something belonging to me.” Octavia sat in judgment above her.

  “He thinks I’m a child.” Lucy pursed her lips. “What has happened to you?”

  “Like you, little mouse, I’ve decided some things are not as important as I thought they were. What do you think you are doing out here?”

  Ra landed on Lucy’s shoulder. Octavia stole your birthright from you. She pretends the Solomon Scroll should be hers, but it shouldn’t. We should have the scroll. Let me kill her. Khun is nothing.”

  The shadows scrambled to support Octavia. “Whatever you’ve been up to, whatever you’re planning, it’s finished. You’re coming with me. We have to go to Alexandria to finish this.”

  “No,” said Lucy.

  “You selfish girl!”

  “Do you plan to steal the Scroll of Solomon from me, Octavia? Ra says you do. You know Ra is more powerful than Khun, and he chose me. You know I am destined to have the scroll. Do you and Father want me dead?”

  Yes! Ra screeched. Exactly.

  “You don’t know Ra as well as you think you do,” said Octavia. “He wants me, not you.”

  Lucy shook her head, her childish braid swinging over a shoulder. “Ra wants whatever he can get. I doubt he could control you. He can’t control me either, because I’m letting him go.”

  Khun leaned forward. “You’re what?”

  “Letting him go. I know about you. What you are, and how Solomon exiled you. We’re wrong to hold you and Ra.” Lucy frowned at Octavia. “You and Father may choose to support slavery, but I do not.”

  Octavia laughed. “There is no way to release your demon. You are always connected.”

  “You’re wrong. I’m going to fix the mistake Erasmus handed down to us. Then I’m going to find a way to undo Solomon’s magic.”

  “Lucy.” Octavia’s face was a sober mask. “Ra and Khun are dangerous creatures. They can’t be allowed to do what they want. People will suffer for it.”

  “We can’t control everything, Octavia. We can only do what’s right.”

  “I intend to do what’s right.” Black tendrils circled Octavia, weaving like serpents. “You will not set Ra free. You are coming with me.”

  The umbrella around Lucy sank toward the ground, becoming a dome. Ra flew from underneath it, throwing himself at Khun, who dodged Ra and plummeted to the swamp. Ra rounded for another attack.

  Octavia’s tendrils thudded against Lucy’s blood dome, but Lucy’s magic was solid and it held.

  “What are you doing?” Octavia said. “What kind of magic is this?”

  “This?” Lucy eyes narrowed. “This is a trick Mother showed me when you weren’t around. Mother cared about me in ways you and Father don’t. You want to kill me! You tried to kill me once already!”

  “No. You don’t remember.”

  “I’ve always remembered. I know it’s not your fault. You’re not well.”

  Octavia’s face twisted. She ran her hands along her cheeks. “I don’t want to kill you! But I have to. Ra told me to kill you.”

  Ra hovered in mid-flight. Why would I tell her anything? Octavia is nothing!

  Lucy’s mouth closed into a line. “Ra wants me, Octavia. Not you. He wants to use me to control the scroll.”

  “He wants me. You are weak, Lucy.”

  “Ignorant, but not weak.” Lucy’s dome sharpened and spikes of blood, bone, and tendon shot toward Octavia. Dark tendrils wrapped around the spikes, squeezing, breaking them into shards. Lucy fell to the swampy ground, her knees sinking in the mud.

  “Weak!” said Octavia. “I have never been more powerful than I am now. I will make you do what I want. I’ll set Khun loose on your friends if you don’t. Your foolish demon boy. That ancient man.”

  Lucy worked to her feet. “Threaten all you like. Ra can countermand anything Khun does.”

  “Octavia.” Drusus’ calm voice. Thunder rumbled behind him in the storm clouds he stirred on the horizon. “I will not have you bullying my littl
e sister.” Lightning crackled in the sky, lights flashing Lucy’s vision into fragments.

  Octavia’s face grew wild as the wind whipped her hair into Medusa-like strands. “She was my sister first. You’ve made it clear, Drusus, whom you support. I see you have decided a new Klaereon to bestow your affections upon. Khun, keep Lucy for me until I return to settle this.”

  Khun riveted his attention on the red dome. “As you say, my mistress.”

  The darkness reshaped into the smoky bird. Drusus and Octavia moved into the storm clouds.

  Lucy watched Khun. He could not touch her, but it was not possible to begin the ritual with him in her way.

  The natural bend of the clouds in the sky, the beginnings of the waterspout, these were Drusus’ hallmarks. His eyes dark, his hair sparking with static, his clothes ragtag tight against his body as the wind propelled him forward, this Drusus Octavia wanted. When he had been proposed as a marriage prospect, Octavia knew women would envy her. To look at him like this took Octavia’s breath away, and she hated Lucy more for taking him from her.

  She wanted him and she despised him. The life she had imagined with Khun moments ago evaporated into impossibility. “There you are,” said Octavia, strengthening her voice against the wind. “Light of my life, heart of my heart, until death do us part. Why are you with Lucy and not with me?”

  “Someone has to protect Lucy from you.”

  “You left me. You told me I had no soul. It turns out you were right. I find myself empty except for anger.”

  “Octavia, you don’t need to do this.”

  “You have no idea what I need!”

  “You need to let Lucy solve this in her own way. You have to let her choose.”

  “We don’t choose, Drusus. We were chosen centuries ago, and we obey our contract. Lucy must face her destiny.” Octavia swooped closer. “How could I not have seen how much you care for her? My mistake was not understanding you wanted your women passive and incompetent.”

  Drusus squeezed her arm. He would leave marks. “What has happened? Look at you! What have you become?”

  Octavia pulled her arm away. “I’m not pretending any longer. I am one with the Abyss. This is the real woman you married.”

  “This is not what you are,” said Drusus. “Khun, he’s corrupted you. You can fight this.”

  “I’ve been fighting all my life.” Octavia closed her eyes. “I’m so tired of fighting. This is what I was meant to be. It is so much easier.”

  “Let me help you, Octavia.”

  “You forfeited your right to help when you left me. I don’t need you. I have Khun.”

  Drusus’ eyes blackened. “My mistake was assuming you could love a human being, any human being. You can’t, can you?”

  “Khun can do more for me than you can. Khun can make me powerful.” She tamped down her lust. Control and discipline made this magic work. “What can you do for me, Drusus?”

  Electricity weaved a web around her husband. “Maybe Lucy can find a way to save you from Khun.”

  The shadows around Octavia solidified on her arms, sharpening into blades. “Heroic Lucy. Saving the world one demon at a time. You’ll pardon my skepticism, Drusus. We Bind these creatures because they cannot be trusted. They exist to serve. This is the way it must be. Now, I am taking Lucy home for her Trial. You will face consequences if you stand in my way.”

  “I won’t let you, Octavia.”

  “If you don’t remove yourself—”

  “Please reconsider doing anything you might later regret. You are my wife. You must obey me.”

  Octavia laughed. She sounded hysterical, but she didn’t care. “I, obey you? By etiquette, as head of my family, I can challenge yours. Klaereons versus Claudians.” She felt the air charge, felt her hair become one with the wind. “Will you take up my challenge?”

  The clouds sparked, grays and greens, the color of bruises. Drusus’ voice was edged with disgust. “I don’t want this.”

  “I do. Oh, how I do.” Octavia’s black dress whipped away in an arc. For a second she was unclothed, shadow and brimstone blown away. What was left covered her body in a thin sheath.

  Octavia lobbed blades of black at Drusus. They pierced the wind surrounding him, homing for his chest. His hands shot up as he deflected them.

  Octavia scowled. From the bird, she shaped an insect with arms like sharp scythes. The shadow insect launched itself at Drusus, slicing with its arms, stabbing through Drusus’ right shoulder. Bone and sinew popped. Thunder grumbled in the distance.

  Drusus, his face contorted, brought his hands together. The wind dissipated the insect and Octavia fell. Her hands scrambled, but found nothing. Desperate, she pulled together a bubble from escaping smoky wisps, a tiny thing which barely held her. She hoped it would soften the impact, but she knew it was unlikely. Then she took one tiny blob from the circle and hurled it toward Drusus, covering his nose and mouth. He scratched and scrambled with his fingers, but they sank into the darkness like tar.

  The winds changed. As the bubble dropped, Octavia realized Drusus’ winds had been keeping her afloat. Now she was truly falling. Panic gripped her, clouded her thinking. Drusus plummeted to the ground like a clipped bird.

  Octavia shaped the bubble into wings and glided onto the marshy ground, water and mud soaking her. She was alive. Was Drusus? She hoped so, and cursed herself for caring.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  As Carlo plowed through the soggy ground, he found black cakes of serpentine in his grandfather’s pockets, as well as flint. Explosives, then. If only Paolo had thought to put a cannon in his pockets, Carlo might have been able to do something. Well, at least there were raw materials. The Borgias liked to live on the mad edge of the precipice indeed. Carlo imagined even Octavia and Khun, for all their magic, would prefer to avoid gunpowder.

  As expected, Carlo found Paolo’s signet ring. The power of the Borgias in one stab. Generally, Paolo coated it with a powerful narcotic, not the poison everyone expected. Carlo placed it on his finger, point inward.

  In the distance, Carlo could see a red dome where they had decided the circle for the ritual would be. The magic from the dome didn’t feel demonic, and as Carlo neared, he could see Lucy underneath it. Carlo didn’t see his grandfather, but he did see Khun pacing the muddy ground. Why didn’t he sink?

  Carlo knelt. Time to get to work before he was noticed. He plucked out long, wet grass from the ground, weaving it into nests, and struck a spark on the flint. As he touched it to the serpentine, harsh smoke fizzed up from the cake. While the grass would burn, the wet swamp would keep the fire from spreading. He scrambled away to place and light more. The result would be dark gray smoke, obscuring the ceremony.

  Now he had to attract Khun to him. He winced and ran toward the demon, yelling.

  The goat man leaped and landed by Carlo, who raced back from where he came, into the smoke. Khun pounced on him, sharp nails raking his face. “Since we are brothers now,” Khun said, “I will not kill you.” He bared his teeth. “Here is an alternative, then, that lets you live.” He hit Carlo in the stomach.

  Carlo crumpled, smoke seeping into him. He covered his mouth with his hands. Khun, ignoring the smoke, held him down.

  “Where’s your mistress?” Carlo coughed.

  “Seeing to familial business.”

  “You can’t find Lucy,” said Carlo. “With this smoke, you can’t see or smell her now.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” said Khun. “I know where Lucy is. She is trapped and she can’t do anything.”

  “You’re right,” said Carlo. “You do know all those things. But if you are asleep, your knowledge will do you no good.” Carlo scratched across Khun’s neck with a sharp point on the ring’s gem. Khun staggered back.

  “You cut me.”

  “Nothing so vulgar,” said Carlo. “Welcome to my kind of magic.”

  Khun staggered and fell forward into the muck. Carlo looked up in time to see Drusus plummet from the sky.
With a glance back at the red dome, he made himself slog toward Drusus. Paolo could look after Lucy. He hoped he wasn’t making a mistake.

  Lucy broke her spell as Paolo Borgia appeared outside the dome. “It is the last moment,” he said. “Carlo has removed Khun. We must take our chance.”

  “What’s in the bag?” Lucy asked.

  Paolo pulled out the flat package. “Our contingency,” he said. “We have set the circle.”

  “About that. I don’t think we are protected.”

  “Yes, we are. We are not in your England. Venice’s chief element is water. You will see.”

  Above them, the sky cracked open. Fire licked toward them, and Ra, a tiny speck in the sky, grew as he dropped. Lucy first touched the pinafore pocket with the bundle of love letters in it and then touched the pocket with the Isis Scroll. She unfurled it and read out the words in Demotic, using the pronunciation of Binder-speak she had learned as a child. She hoped the intent would be enough.

  “Ra’s coming,” she said to Paolo. “We must begin. You should leave the circle. Once Ra is free, he may try to take you.”

  “No. Keep reading,” said Paolo. He unwrapped the package. Inside was a spearhead attached to a broken haft. “It will work and I will make sure you are safe.”

  “You must go!”

  Paolo showed no sign of leaving.

  Lucy was sliced with fear. If she stopped the ceremony now, she didn’t know what would happen. But if Paolo stayed, Ra could bind himself to the old man, or worse, Paolo could try to bind Ra. Where were Carlo and Drusus?

  Ra dived into the circle. He changed his form several times: an old man holding a cane. A boy sitting in the middle of a lotus flower. A giant falcon. The small boy again. Lucy and the boy were connected by a sinuous thread, each end knotted into their chests. She stared, hypnotized by its metallic sheen.

 

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