“I think I also asked you not to ask me about this cabinet,” she said.
“I mean, you can’t expect me not to be curious…” I said, “Especially after what I’ve just seen. What did you do to him?”
She pointed at the cabinet. “That right there is my soul closet.”
“I’m sorry… soul… closet?”
“That’s right. It’s where I keep the baddest of baddies, and those whose souls are too rotten to be eaten.”
Eaten? I shook my head. “Hold up. You mean to tell me all this time, you weren’t kidding about the whole soul eating stuff?”
“I’ve been known to tell a joke on occasion, but I take the topic of soul handling and consumption very seriously, kitten. Especially considering my practice is forbidden among mages.”
I walked over to the cabinet. “So, you just took Corax’s soul from him… where’d the rest of him go?”
She shrugged. “To join the elements, I suppose. He won’t be coming back, but he’ll be safe where he is.”
“Really? Because it looked like some of those things were trying to jump out. What happens if one of them breaks?”
“You could drop them off a roof and they won’t break. Those oogies won’t be leaving their jars unless I want them to. Now, let’s not get off topic. What were you thinking bringing that brute so near to my apartment? My cats?”
I looked around the room, noticing for the first time a distinct lack of cats. “Where… are they?”
“They can sense when I’m bringing a fresh soul home. They’ll be gone for a few hours, but they’ll come back. They always do.”
Sighing, I shook my head. “Maybe if he hadn’t gotten the drop on me, I’d have been able to deal with him somewhere else, but he injured me.” I lifted my shirt to show her the dried blood still clinging to my skin. Alright, I’d lied. He hadn’t gotten the drop on me; I’d gone looking for him. But Bastet wasn’t gonna accept that.
“And how did you end up back here?”
“I needed a home-field advantage, and I got it.”
“I don’t think the church counts as home-field. Not for you. Saint Anne’s is a special place, a sacred place—a magic place. You should’ve gone somewhere else, and not only because I don’t want to have to use my powers.”
I frowned at her. “Look, I’m really glad you decided to let me crash, and I’m not about to piss all over that by choosing not to respect your wishes—”
“—I’m sensing a but,” she interrupted. “There’d better not be a but…”
Sighing. “But… it was life or death. I didn’t have much of a choice, and I’m glad you came to help I’m out.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Help isn’t exactly what you needed… it seemed to me like you had the situation well under control.”
“I guess, but the thought of executing him on the street…”
Bastet walked around to her living room, shrugging. “Some people don’t deserve the honor of a clean death in battle. Some people need to be put down like the monsters they are so they can no longer prey on others.”
“I get that. This just felt different.”
She stared at me, frowning. “There could be a little human in you yet, my Aevian friend.”
“I think I’m supposed to take offense to that?”
“You think? If you’re not sure, you probably shouldn’t.”
I followed Bastet to the couch and sat down on the arm-chair across from her. “I guess I don’t care enough.”
“Good. Now, let me address a little hole in the plot you’ve spun for me.”
“Hole?”
“You said you had no idea he was coming for you… I think that’s a little fib you’ve told.”
I cocked my head to the side. “Why do you think that’s a lie?”
“Because in all the time I’ve known you, I’ve heard of maybe a handful of times you’ve been caught off-guard. Less than that.”
“You don’t know who Corax is… was. He was huge, but he could fly so silently if he wanted to… I didn’t have a chance.”
“Sure, an apex predator the Serakon was, but you were hunting him just as much as he was hunting you, or am I wrong?”
“What makes you say that?”
She cocked her thumb toward her soul closet. “He told me.”
I shook my head. “Told you?”
“There’s an instant of connection I share with a spirit the moment I wrap my little magic paws around it. It’s incredibly powerful, and intimate. Time stretches a second into a lifetime, the soul bares itself to me, and I’m able to see and know anything I want about it.”
A chill ran through me, forcing a shudder. What the hell kind of power did Bastet really have? All this time we’d been friends, I’d never truly known the extent of her magic. Stealing souls, though? She’d joked around about eating my ghost before, but I didn’t think she was serious about that kind of thing. Could she eat ghosts? Could she eat souls?
I almost didn’t want to think about it. I also couldn’t really imagine it, or at least I hadn’t been able to until I saw her do what she just did. The way the ghostly smoke clung to her body, the runes floating in front of her hand. Thinking about the moment with the clarity of hindsight, I could’ve sworn I saw shapes in the smoke swirling around her; faces. Skulls.
Another shudder.
“He wouldn’t talk to me,” I said, “At the end, I gave him a chance to talk. Even offered to spare his life.”
“Aha,” she said, waving a finger at me, “So there was an ulterior motive to finding that Serakon. I imagine it had something to do with your dear brother?”
“Half-brother. Corax was the head of the Crimson Hunters, an Order that pledged themselves to Valoel. I wanted to track him down in the hopes I could extract a little information from him. Maybe even get him to turn against his handler.”
“Did you truly think someone like that was going to open his mouth for you?”
“I guess not, but I’m running out of leads. The Crimson Hunters aren’t hard to find.”
“Unfortunately, my dear, you’re in possession of the wrong stone if what you want is to bury someone else’s free will, or make it bend to yours.”
I shook my head and sank into the armchair. “I don’t know what to do.”
A pause hung in the air, still and quiet, with only the sounds of the city filling the space between us. Sirens, people arguing, music floating in through the window from some distant point in the city. Inside of all that noise, a single cat yowled into the night.
“Have you considered speaking to Draven?” she asked.
“—I can’t talk to him.” I snapped, staring at her. “Okay? I can’t. Even if I could, I don’t want to.”
Bastet took a deep breath and angled her head to the side. “The need for revenge is a powerful motivator. It’s driven people to start great wars, to commit terrible atrocities. I know you’re holding onto that; I know it’s going to be hard to let it go. But if you want to truly go forward in life, you have to let it go. Otherwise it’ll consume you like a giant fire.”
I locked eyes with her. “You know, I liked you better when you were all quirky and fun. I’m not sure I like this insightful you.”
“This doesn’t happen often, so, pay attention to what I’m saying because you probably won’t hear it again. If you don’t want to talk to Draven, fine. If you don’t want to go back to live with the Order, I’m happy to have a roommate for a little longer. Just don’t bring shitty assholes back to our neighborhood, okay? Otherwise we’re gonna have a problem, and I don’t want that with you.”
I nodded. “Okay…” I said, trailing off. I sighed. “I feel like I wasted tonight. And with Corax gone… he probably had a lot he could tell me.”
“Oh, he’s not gone, gone. He’s right over there.” She pointed at the cabinet.
“You stole his soul… his body turned to ash. Are you saying he can come back?”
She shrugged. “There’s no inst
ruction manual for what I am, not one I can learn from. Like I’ve already told you, I only know of one other person like me in the whole world. Maybe his body can come back, maybe it can’t. What I do know is, he can’t get out of that jar, and as long as he’s inside it… he can probably still tell you what you want to know.”
“You’re kidding…”
Bastet shook her head. “Not about this. Soul talk is serious talk.”
“I need to know whether Valoel got his hands on the fifth stone yet or not. I have no idea where it is, but I also don’t know if he has it.”
“Seems to me that little morsel of information would probably get around…”
“Probably, but I need to be sure.”
“And you think Corax knows?”
“He was one of Valoel’s lieutenants. If anyone knows, it’ll be him.”
She got up and stretched, yawning at the same time. “What about the other stone you got? The blue one… has that been useful?”
“No,” was all I could reply, because Draven had taken the stone back to the Black Fortress for safe keeping after we’d found it, and I hadn’t had a chance to analyze it yet. Not that I hadn’t wanted to, the stone was powerful, I’d felt as much when I touched it for the first time. I also knew it held secrets inside of it that I maybe wasn’t ready for.
In truth, I’d been avoiding it.
“Maybe you should go and find out?”
“Probably, but now isn’t the time. If you think you can get information from Corax, please… I need to know what he knows.”
In my periphery I noticed a cat slinking its way into the apartment through the kitchen window. A small, silver tabby with bright blue eyes, licking his lips, his tail twitching. Rey.
Bastet perked up and craned her neck around. She must have sensed Rey entering her place. A smile decorated her lips. “Well, look what the cat dragged in,” she said.
“Bastet…” I called out, and she turned to look at me.
“What?” she asked.
“I need you to focus… can you help me find out what I need to know?”
“Oh, right… yes.”
Bastet stood and walked over to the cabinet. She turned her head to look at me and I caught a flash of ghostly blue in her eyes. The sight of it made my blood turn cold. The magic left delicate strands of blue smoke in the air, rising above her head and disappearing.
“Let’s see what song this birdie will sing for us,” she said.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The red vapor swirled and moved inside the mason jar like it had a purpose. I kept trying to find a face, something that may have hinted this cloud of smoke was once a living, breathing thing. Every once in a while, I’d catch a hint of what I thought were wide, angry eyes, or a mouth screaming silently.
A shudder worked its way up and along my spine.
“Curious thing, isn’t it?” Rey asked.
The silver tabby sat on the edge of the coffee table, an arm’s length away from the jar. Red light from inside reflected off of Rey’s blue eyes, creating a strange, magical purple. He wiggled his little pink nose at it, then backed away, shaking his head.
“Curious isn’t the word I’d use,” I said.
“How would you describe it?”
“Morbid comes to mind. There’s a soul in there. If ever you needed a little proof about the afterlife, you’re literally looking at it.”
He arched an eyebrow. “I’m a magic, talking cat. I didn’t need proof about the afterlife.”
I rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“Sometimes, I really don’t.”
Bastet returned to the living room and planted herself on her knees at the edge of the coffee table. In front of her she set down a curved knife, still in its sheath, and what looked like an amulet in the shape of a scarab. It was beautiful; a deep blue that reflected the light that touched it in a wide variety of blue, pink, purple, and green tones.
I waited for her to speak with a breath held in my lungs. I thought I was going to pass out, but then she opened her eyes and looked across at me.
“Alright,” she said, “I’m gonna need you to both back away from the soul jar.”
“Not that I feel the need to ask why,” I said, doing as Bastet had asked, “But… why?”
“Because, kitty-girl… my magic is a storm, and we wouldn’t want your soul to get caught up in it, now do we?”
Rey hopped off the coffee table and sat on the couch. “I think I want to keep hold of my soul if possible.”
“Do cats have souls?” I asked.
“Of course they do, silly,” Bastet replied, “Now, don’t ask weird questions and let’s focus on trying to get information from this angry little Serakon.”
“Pretty sure he’d take issue with being talked about like that,” Rey put in.
“That isn’t helping,” I said.
“Hey, I just don’t want to give him more reasons for being angry. Who knows what he can do while he’s in that state?”
Bastet put her hand up. “I do, and I can tell you, he can do a lot. As soon as I open this jar, I’m going to need to contain him so that he doesn’t worm his way into your bodies. I want you to ask him what you need to ask him, and then when you’re done, I need you to perform a little ritual to get him out of me.”
“Wait a second, out of you? What are you talking about?”
“Oh, sure. I mean, if I were the one asking him questions, I wouldn’t need to allow him into my body, but you’re the one asking questions here, and I’d rather not be a middle-person.”
“So, what you’re saying here is you’re taking the lazy option?” Rey asked. “Isn’t what you’re going to do… dangerous?”
“Not if you do exactly as I ask.” She slid the knife and the scarab amulet across the table.
I caught them and examined the amulet in my hand. “What do I have to do?”
“Easy. Feed a little blood to the scarab, and say my name three times. The scarab is my anchor, it’s what’s going to make sure my soul doesn’t go anywhere while Corax is in here.” She tapped her chest.
A pause hung in the air. The mason jar on the coffee table jumped on its own. The thud made my skin crawl.
“Okay, this sounds really dangerous, Bastet,” I said, “I’m not sure I can do this.”
“If you want the information you’re after, you’ll do it,” she said, “Just, please… please. I don’t want to have to use my magic like this again. Make this the last time.”
I had never truly asked her why she took such an issue with using magic, but her resistance was right there for me to see. She hated using magic. Something had happened to her to make her that way, I could tell, but I didn’t know what it was. The one thing I did know was, Bastet had decided to put all of that aside for me right now, and that must have been tough for her. The least I could do was accept her help.
Staring at her, I pressed my lips into a thin line and nodded. “Okay,” I said, “Let’s do this.”
“Good. And what did I say you needed to do?”
“Feed blood to the scarab, and say your name two times.”
“Three times!”
“I know! A monkey could follow those instructions. Let’s do this before I change my mind and decide to find another way to get the information I need.”
Frowning, Bastet pulled the mason jar closer to herself and held it between her hands. She glanced at me, then at Rey, then back at the jar. “This guy is really pissed,” Bastet said, “Like, supernova pissed. He can’t believe I killed him.”
“I almost can’t believe it,” I said, “You made it look so easy…”
“Life is fragile. Taking it from someone is easy. The part that comes after is what’s really complicated.”
“I want to ask you about all that,” Rey said, “But I feel like we’re probably a little tight for time?”
“Too tight,” I said, unsheathing the knife and setting it down on the coffee table. The blade itself was clean a
nd sharp, shining with the red light from the glowing jar on the table. It was curved, and short, and inscribed into it were… Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics. There were some on the handle, too. The whole thing had distinctly Egyptian vibe to it—the scarab too, obviously.
“Ready?” Bastet asked.
I nodded. “Ready.”
After taking a deep breath, Bastet began to whisper. I couldn’t hear the words she was saying, it all sounded like a string of quick, babbling murmurs with no meaning. There was plenty meaning behind her words, though. Almost as soon as she’d started talking, a soft breeze had started pushing through her living room.
Invisible fingers moved through my hair, the air itself turned cold; so cold I could see my breath forming in puffs of steam around my lips. The hairs on the nape of my neck prickled, sending a shudder through my body. Inside of my chest, a ghostly pull was drawing me toward Bastet, toward her words. I had to grab the edges of the coffee table to stop myself from drifting toward her.
Bastet suddenly unscrewed the mason jar, opened her mouth above the rim, and inhaled the red mist that spilled out from inside. Her eyes flashed blue as she took in Corax’s soul. Her body shook a little, it looked like she was having trouble at first, but then the mist was gone. Bastet shut her eyes and tucked her chin into her chest, her hair falling limply around her face and shoulders.
Even Rey didn’t have words. The cat was just as mesmerized as I was.
A moment passed, then another, and another, but nothing was happening. Swallowing hard, I grabbed the knife and prepared to prick my finger with the tip, hoping if this hadn’t gone the way it was supposed to have gone, that I could undo this before it was too late. The thought of Corax running around wearing Bastet’s skin was enough to make me fear for my life, and that was saying something.
“Bastet?” I ventured, carefully pushing the question over at her.
Slowly, Bastet turned her eyes up at me. They were no longer flashing blue. Now they had an almost reddish tint to them. “What… is this…?” asked a voice that didn’t fit the face it was speaking from. The voice was deep, and gruff. A man’s voice.
Wings of Fire (The Obsidian Order Book 4) Page 5
