Afterworld

by Lynnette Lounsbury

  ‘I know you are . . . sca— concerned about Satarial,’ Kaide quickly corrected herself, ‘but if he is somewhere in the City we will find him. I have sent people to every house . . . everywhere to look for him. If he’s not here – then we just have to assume that for some reason, and I’m sure it was a very, very good one, he went into the Maze.’

  The faces in front of her, some milky pale, others pitch-black, all wore the same expression. Fear. She felt a little of it herself. Tossing her hair, she smiled as calmly as she could.

  ‘We are not people,’ a tight voice called from the throng who jostled each other politely to get closer.

  ‘What?’ Kaide frowned.

  ‘You said, “you people”. We are not people.’ It was a distinction the Nephilim could be relied upon to make.

  She sighed. ‘Yes, I know that. I’m sorry.’ She hadn’t realised how much the Nephilim relied on Satarial to give them purpose. ‘Who is on training duty today?’

  There were sneers and sighs of discontent. ‘Do we have to continue that?’

  ‘No. You don’t. You can stand here and keep complaining.’ She laughed this time. None of the Nephilim laughed back. She had rarely seen any of them laugh. Or even crack the slightest of smiles. Especially when it came to training.

  After the fall of the Trials, Kaide had spoken with Enoch and discovered that the Arena was once a training ground for humans and Nephilim to prepare for the Maze. With Satarial’s reluctant help she had re-established the old tradition, using highly skilled Nephilim to train any human wanting to learn. They complained endlessly about the duty. Apparently it was beneath them to help humans – they often referred to it as ‘tending animals’. Kaide was not offended though. They were respectful to her and curious about her presence. She found it almost amusing, the ignorant racism of the Nephilim. Most of them had lived lives of sheltered wealth on Earth and had only ever encountered humans as slaves. That kind of insular lifestyle led to some obvious misgivings about those they saw as underlings. It wasn’t any different to the racial tension back in India, and being part Japanese, she was used to being seen as odd and understood the social dynamic well. At least the Nephilim didn’t notice her height. Among the giants she was almost petite.

  The humans in the Necropolis were just as bad. While they had embraced the idea of training, they were understandably wary of doing it with the Nephilim. Mostly they watched each other with suspicion from different ends of the charred Arena, its giant trees only just starting to bud with new leaves. They did find some converts though – the newest dead – those with no memory of the Trials or the role of the Nephilim. They were easily convinced by their Guides to join the training and their Guardians stood nervously on the sidelines, eyes narrowed at the Nephilim who begrudgingly led the rigorous exercises.

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake. Dariel, you and the Western Quarter can run training today. Don’t complain. It will give you something to do. The rest of you can go and do a day’s work in the orchards.’ Kaide smiled, knowing it was the last thing the Nephilim wanted to do, but probably the one thing that would sort them out. They probably just needed some exercise. Some purpose to keep them distracted from the obvious changes that were occurring around them.

  Dom’s triumph in the Arena had meant more than just the end of the Trials. At least for now, hundreds of new faces had shown up in the Workhouse, earning minutes and preparing for the Maze. He had inspired a shift in the humans and the results had been difficult for the Nephilim to deal with. Even aside from the loss of face at the Trials, and the reactionary riots and looting that followed, many of their businesses had been affected. People were no longer spending minutes on luxuries or wasting it on gaming or fights. Satarial had made an effort to change them, to become at least in some way a part of the change in the City, but it was difficult to change centuries of belief.

  ‘The orchards!’ The uproar was instant yet still controlled. ‘We don’t need the minutes,’ they yelled, staring down their noses at Kaide. ‘Who are you to tell us to work?’

  Kaide looked at them all again. ‘I am the person you came to for advice. And that’s what I have given you. Go to work. Go and sleep. Go do whatever. Up to you. I am heading to the market quarter to find out if there’s any news of Satarial.’

  She shrugged and left the throng murmuring among themselves as she headed back to the suite of rooms she had been sharing with Satarial for the last few weeks. Her worry bubbled up as soon as she no longer needed to appear strong. He had walked out of the room over a week ago and never returned. She and the Nephilim had searched every inch of the City and they had uncovered nothing. No one had seen anything at all. Enoch had no answers for her, and she didn’t know of anyone else to ask. Satarial would never have just left her. She was sure. He loved her. But there had not been a single clue as to his whereabouts and any further searching was just to keep herself and the Nephilim busy.

  She peeked through a small window and saw the group slowly dispersing. Dariel seemed to be corralling the Western Quarter’s inhabitants to help him with the training, and another small group were headed out the front gate, hopefully in the direction of the Workhouse. At least some of them were still taking her orders. She wondered how long that would last if Satarial was gone for good.

  Kaide’s shoulders slumped as she walked into the opulent bedchambers.

  ‘You!’ She jumped back in surprise to see the swarthy man lounging on her bed. ‘Oh, thank God.’

  ‘That is exactly how I like to be greeted.’ Eduardo barely opened his eyes.

  ‘You look like a man again. A dirty, drunk man – but a man. Whew, you smell like alcohol.’ Kaide grinned at him and flopped down on the huge bed beside him, glad to have someone to talk to.

  ‘It’s my favourite role, the drunk,’ he smiled, ‘I’ve even cultivated the aroma.’ A stringent whisky breath wafted over her.

  ‘Eh. You will be unimpressed to know that just makes me miss my mother.’ Kaide propped herself up on one elbow. ‘So where the hell is Satarial? You have to know something.’

  ‘Why would I know?’

  ‘Because you’re an Angel. If these highly-strung, neurotic creatures are apparently far superior to me in intelligence, then surely you are smarter again.’

  Eduardo laughed heartily and Kaide smiled, despite her concerns.

  ‘You know what? I think he’s in the Maze and I think something’s taken him,’ she said. ‘Maybe that other Angel you were talking about.’ She grabbed his arm, shaking it slightly.

  He rubbed the stubble around his face and snorted gruffly. ‘For a start, I clearly am no smarter than you, Kaide Mathers. I’m still here am I not? And if Anubis has taken Satarial, and I cannot imagine why he would, he’s got far more trouble coming than he knows.’ He sighed. ‘I will admit to being concerned though. I heard Satarial was gone and the only reasons why this would happen are disturbing.’

  ‘What reasons?’ Kaide leaned forward.

  He seemed unready to voice them, but he rubbed his face again and narrowed his eyes at her. ‘This whole place is worrying me. There have been very few changes in millennia. The Afterworld reflects the beliefs of all living beings, and beliefs are very slow to change. The only way it could change is if there were external forces at work. Very powerful ones.’

  ‘The Awe?’ she asked. ‘But why? I thought the Awe made this as part of our life-death cycle?’

  ‘I don’t mean the Awe. I mean . . .’ he took a breath and hesitated, almost whispering, ‘I mean the Archangels. The Superios.’ His eyes darted around as though someone were listening and Kaide couldn’t help glancing around as well.

  ‘Again I ask why? Why would they care what humans do?’

  He sighed. ‘The same reason Angels care. Humans are magnificent. Driven. We are all fascinated and envious of them. Sometimes to the point of despair. Even rage.’

  Kaide shook her head. ‘Bizarre. Truly. Bizarre. But okay. So now you really need to help me. What chance do I
have against a super Angel without you?’

  ‘No more than with me I’m afraid.’

  ‘Come with me to do one more search of the City, please? And if we can’t find him, I will go into the Maze. Satarial has many minutes stored in this house.’ She begged quietly, trying to sound upbeat but descending into desperation.

  ‘Here, I will help you.’ He sighed. ‘In the Maze, you’re on your own.’

  ‘Well, I’m hoping my considerable powers of persuasion will change your mind on that one.’ She lay back beside him.

  He gestured to a small pottery vessel on the table in the corner of the room. ‘I brought you a gift. Dominic loved this stuff and I thought you might too.’

  She walked over to the pot, lifted the lid and breathed in. ‘Oh my God, coffee. You are an Angel!’

  Eduardo smiled. ‘I miss him.’

  She sighed. ‘Me, too. I thought I’d be fine, we’ve spent half our lives away from each other. And I had Satarial. But I was wrong. He’s made of gold isn’t he – Dom? Do you think he made it through the Maze?’

  Eduardo said nothing for a moment and then sat up suddenly, his agility betraying his alias. ‘Where is Deora?’

  6

  Dominic’s Hourglass

  6012 Minutes

  They walked for what seemed like several hours and had to pause once for a restless sleep that left Dom more tired than when he had lain down.Then it was back to walking, or in Dom’s case shuffling up tunnels that turned and twisted and regularly came to unmarked intersections. Whenever a decision had to be made, Deora turned and deferred to Dominic. He had no idea why, and he felt his decisions were based on pure guesswork, but she always simply nodded and began walking up the path he chose. It gave him something to think about through the throbbing of his arm. Perhaps she was merely from a time where women expected men to make the decisions. This seemed far-fetched given Deora’s personality and he was still sure she had been wielding more power over the Nephilim than she had admitted. Maybe she still thought he was charmed. Ha! He looked at his fingers, which were rapidly turning pale blue. Could you die from loss of blood when you were already dead?

  The walls of the Maze were narrow, the roof low and the only light came from the dim flickering of the torches. It was so much like the set of an adventure movie he reached out and ran his hand along the wall. It was smooth sandstone, marked from top to bottom with hieroglyphs. They looked Egyptian, but occasionally there was a triangular language he didn’t recognise and along the very top of the wall was something he could have sworn was Latin. None of it meant anything to him. Again, as he did every few minutes, he wished Eva were with him. She would be able to read the signs and at the very least she would actually care that his arm was still bleeding. Deora seemed to view it as a huge inconvenience.

  Deora stopped abruptly, and he ran into her again. She barely moved, but Dom had stumbled and caught himself. The blood loss made him light-headed. She moved aside to reveal another intersection. This one was broad and well-lit with four bright torches. A glistening black marble statue stood in their way, its right hand reaching forward, palm upwards. The statue was in a large arched alcove and was at least eight feet tall, a head taller than Deora, and rather than human features it had the black skin and amber eyes of a jackal.

  He sighed, hoping desperately this one would not animate when he spoke its name. ‘Anubis,’ he said quietly. It was silent, but it was as though the statue shed some sort of skin, melting into reality and looking down into Dom’s eyes with an intense glare. They were not friendly eyes. There was something incredibly cold about them. But the jackal smiled, his canines folding neatly over the lower jaw. It was a terrifying sight and both he and Deora took a step backward. The jackal made a strange coughing noise which he slowly realised was laughter and it shook its head the way he had seen dogs shake off water, only in this case, it shook away its dog features and was suddenly a man. No, an Angel.

  The ebony-skinned Angel smiled broadly down at the two of them.

  ‘Dominic Mathers. The man I have been waiting to meet.’ His voice was a gruff, rich roar. It sounded like a voice that might dismember them. Dom nodded tentatively and waited for the Angel to acknowledge Deora. He did not.

  ‘Anubis? I have heard much about you. From Eduardo.’

  ‘Ha! Did you?’ The Angel laughed again and beneath the mirth was a slight snarl. ‘I never fail to be amused when I hear his name. Did you know he was one of those who, in their unfailing wisdom and love of humans, gave me the task of controlling the Maze? They believed I lacked respect for the process of death and mortality.’

  ‘I didn’t know that. No.’ Dom had no idea what to say.

  ‘I have learned a very great deal from this . . . assignment.’ He narrowed his amber eyes. ‘But I do not feel regret that it has come to an end.’

  He did not explain himself, but rather raised both hands and let one point down each corridor. ‘A decision must be made here, Dominic. Will you go left or right? I will help you with this one since you are so . . . favoured by the Awe. Left will throw you back into the Maze and you will continue to wander until you find the River, unless of course your minutes run out. Choose the right and I will take you immediately to the room of the Weighing of the Heart and you can complete the ceremony.’

  Dom watched Anubis carefully, studying his face for cracks of betrayal. Something bothered him. Why was the Angel offering to help him at all? He watched the golden eyes carefully. One of them twitched very slightly at the base. He wanted something. And he wanted it very much. And he was so carefully ignoring Deora, a difficult thing to do given her beauty and the glare she had fixed on him, that it seemed contrived. Dom took a breath and decided to push his luck.

  ‘My friend Eva is in the Maze. Somewhere. Can you take me to her? Then I will find my way to the River.’

  He heard Deora give a theatrical sigh, but it was Anubis that surprised him the most. The Angel’s eyes twisted very slightly, into what seemed like a smile. Eduardo had been the same – the Angels could never completely hide their emotions – and Dom had been watching carefully. Anubis had wanted him to ask. The Angel spoke carefully. ‘At this moment there are four beings in the Maze. One of them is Nephilim. I cannot tell you more than that.’

  Dom’s eyes glanced towards Deora, but her face offered nothing. Again she was waiting to see what he would do. He twisted his head to the side as he tried to keep up with what was clearly some sort of scheme on the part of the Angel. While he was thinking he caught the smallest flick of Anubis’ eyes towards Deora. It was the first time he had even acknowledged her presence. Dom had become adept at reading emotion in these strange beings. Fear. Why was Anubis afraid of Deora? Was she able to ruin his plan? Was he afraid of both of them? When Dom refocused the moment was gone and Anubis was bored.

  ‘I need to find Eva, Anubis. I still have time to locate her and complete the Maze.’ He tried to sound polite, but the Angel’s demeanour exploded into a snarl.

  ‘Will you . . . have enough time?’ The tip of his huge Angel wing waved towards the left tunnel and immediately three monstrous jackals were blocking the way, growling and salivating through their sharp white teeth.

  ‘Really?’ Dom removed the knife from his satchel. He cradled his blood-soaked arm against his chest, pulled himself up and headed towards the dogs.

  ‘Anubis!’ The voice was female and sounded like dozens of voices at once, echoing around the walls and causing the dogs to run back down the tunnel. Dom glanced around to see who had spoken. It wasn’t Deora’s voice. She was looking in the other direction. Anubis was petulant. A moment later a figure in white emerged into the dim, yellow light. It was a woman. Her white gown was long and loose and there were straps of thin gold wrapped around her waist and over her shoulders. She had a bow and a quiver of arrows, both of which were made from gold, hanging over one arm. Her dark hair was piled on her head, but it was barely visible underneath the white fabric that wrapped both her head a
nd face like a veil. Only her eyes could be seen. Glistening like dark amber. She was the perfect picture of a goddess.

  ‘Anubis!’ She chastised him again and he said nothing. ‘It is not for you to determine the boy’s journey through the Maze. He has much more to learn yet, and he must cross the River.’ She turned to Dominic. ‘You have chosen wisely and should complete the journey your heart chooses. Your heart would not pass the ceremony if you had not been true to it.’ She nodded her head in gentle deference, though when she stood back up to her full height her eyes did not meet his. They were watching Deora carefully.

  ‘Uh.’ Dom searched for the right words. ‘Respectfully, may I ask who you are? I don’t remember learning about you when I prepared for the Maze. Are you a goddess?’

  She turned her eyes to his. They were dark brown and warming. He imagined she was smiling at him underneath her mask. ‘I am the Maze Guide. Anubis is its Guardian. We work together.’ It was an admonition and Anubis snorted a little, but did not argue. ‘I Guide those who find the centre through the Weighing of the Heart Ceremony and, if they pass, into the next part of their journey. I was human, but here I take the form of a goddess. My name is Persephone.’

  Dom wanted to ask her many things. Persephone. That was the Queen of the Underworld wasn’t it? Dom seemed to remember she was a bad queen, or a prisoner. Which was it? He wondered how a human had got this job, stuck in this dark warren of tunnels for all time. It didn’t seem a pleasant role at all. But he kept his mouth shut and simply nodded. ‘Thank you. We will keep going.’

  He glanced at Deora and saw immediately that she was in turmoil. Her eyes were angry, her mouth tight. If she were angry with him, he was surprised she hadn’t said anything. Silence was not her strength.