by Liz Schulte
So that’s why I was sent. The council physically couldn’t remove Shezmu or the object they wanted. “What does Shezmu have?”
She shook her head.
It was always partial information. I sighed. “Okay, so what trials am I a part of, and why?”
“To prove your worthiness to lead your people.” She folded her hands in front of her. “I have looked into your heart. You will succeed and you will return to your kingdom.”
Like hell I would. “Can I stop the trials?”
“No. Once they have begun, they cannot be stopped. But I feel you have a great many adventures still to follow to find what you’re looking for. Your destiny, while still before you, lies in the distance.”
I didn’t believe in destiny. I believed in choosing my own path. “I don’t want to rule anyone.”
She looked completely unconcerned. “Nevertheless, you will return in their darkest hour and you will not leave them again.”
We’d see about that.
“Come.” She beckoned me to follow as she glided toward the door. Before I could object, she added, “The priestess will be unharmed.”
I almost had to run to keep up with her. “Where are we going?”
She held her arm out straight and pointed her finger at a rusted metal door. “This is the room you seek. It is the only assistance I can provide you in here.” She took my hand—the same one she’d held earlier—and flipped it over, hovering one finger above my palm.
I looked down at a tattoo in the center of my palm that had never been there before—only it wasn’t a tattoo. It was the Eye of Ra, and it swirled and churned beneath my skin like it was a living thing. My first urge was to brush it away. “What is it?”
“A link between the two of us. Your power is my power and my power is your power. It has always been so.” She pointed back at the door. “Be wary of seeking treasures you cannot name.”
In a blink we were back in the room with Frost, whose chest was still rising and falling. “Why else have you called to me, warrior? I see no threat. Perhaps, as you prepare for battle, you wish to have my blessing.” She looked up. “So be it.”
She placed her hands on my shoulders, her eyes closing. “Shezmu knows you are coming. He has been awaiting your arrival for decades. He believes this day marks a day of freedom for him. You must not grant that. You have the blessing of the gods, but Shezmu also has favor. Old loyalties lie with him that you do not yet have. Keep your steps sure and hold bravery in your heart. Best him and gain his treasure if you must, but do not release him from his prison.”
“Who sent me here?”
“That discovery will come soon enough. Use his vanity against him. It leaves him a fool.”
I glanced back at Frost again.
“Take heart, warrior—you are discovering all that you are capable of. Nothing has been lost.”
With that, Sekhmet was gone and I was back kneeling over Frost like I had never left her. And had I left her, or was that an illusion? I lifted my bloody hands from her and wiped them on my jeans. Holding my breath, I looked at my palm. It was still there, the swirling Eye of Ra.
“What happened?” Frost’s eyes opened and her voice sounded normal and strong.
I laughed, and my head dropped down to my chest. “Shit.” I blew out a breath. “You had me worried for a moment. Don’t fucking do it again.”
Frost rolled away, leaving a smear of blood across the floor, then she sat up, paler than normal. “Whoa.” Her wide eyes scanned the area. “Is that all… How am I alive?” She pulled at her shirt; her skin was unmarred beneath. “Did you do this?”
I nodded. “I didn’t touch you. I used your sweater as a barrier.”
“But you healed me. Completely healed me.”
Well, more than likely, the goddess did it through me—but maybe not. Maybe it was me. I honestly didn’t know anymore. Everything I thought I understood was off kilter. So I told Frost the only thing I knew to be true in this moment. “We started this journey together, and we’re going to end it like that too.”
I tossed her the rest of her clothes. The dark, swirling mark on the palm of my hand caught my attention again. It moved constantly, was never still. I rubbed it, but it didn’t hurt. Actually, I couldn’t really feel it, but it was certainly there. I clenched my fingers into a fist. I’d worry about what it meant later. “We can’t release Shezmu, and I don’t think we can kill him.” Which meant we needed a much better plan than what we had, which was nothing. If my father had created this place to trap Shezmu and the treasure, maybe Frost was right that we should leave it alone and not mess with it. But then again, obviously someone else knew about it. Someone was sending in humans. And if I wouldn’t play their game, how long before they went after Dendera? I needed to remove the temptation and preferably break all connections this labyrinth had to any world. Especially mine.
“What about the council?”
“They don’t care about Shezmu or the humans. They want some treasure he found that got him locked in here to begin with.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And what is it?”
“I have no idea, but it’s dangerous.”
“Then why can’t we just leave it here?”
“Because someone knows about it and wants it—and they’ve found or made a direct route to Shezmu. That’s the only way the humans are making it through.”
Frost crossed her arms and paced. “Agreed. But assuming you’re right and this object is dangerous, how are you going to protect it outside of these walls? You father gave his life to ensure it never landed in another world again, and now you’re taking it back.”
I didn’t have a choice. I had to protect Dendera… “Wait…what did you say?”
“What?” she said, turning back to me.
“You said my father gave his life. How do you know that?”
She shook her head. “No idea. It just came out.”
Was it possible she had overheard my conversation with Sekhmet? Seemed unlikely, especially if it took place in my mind. I narrowed my eyes. “What else do you know?”
She sighed. “Is now really the time you’re going to stop trusting me? When we’re almost finished?”
Yep. Exactly the time. “I’m waiting.”
She threw up her hands. “Then why did you go to the trouble of saving me?”
Maybe she knew because I healed her—maybe knowledge was passed along with my energy. The connection could have been open enough that she caught a few stray thoughts… But then again, I was a critical key to obtaining the treasure. Anyone who wanted it needed me along in order to remove it from the maze. I’d have to keep an eye on her.
Regardless of her motives, we needed a plan. Somehow I didn’t think Shezmu was going to hand over the object and let us leave with open arms. He knew I was his ticket out of here, and he’d make damn certain I took him with me.
Maybe we could use that against him. He knew I was his only hope, so if I played along and made him think I was there to rescue him, perhaps we’d inspire the nicer side of him, the side that didn’t make wine out of people’s souls. But the question was, could I play nice with the being that murdered my father?
My hand touched the demon-killing knife at my waist. I had been saving it especially for him. If I killed him, the labyrinth would collapse and would never be a problem again, but every monster I didn’t kill would then be freed, unleashed in the Abyss, because that was where the labyrinth was connected. A sigh that matched the heavy feeling in my heart escaped my mouth. The risk wasn’t worth it.
“It’s not enough,” I mumbled.
“What?” Frost asked.
“To let him live, but I don’t have a choice.”
Frost looked at the floor, a slow, sad smile spreading over her face. “People can live while enduring a lot of things. Really, really unpleasant things.”
That had my attention. “Do tell.”
She looked up. “I’m not great at a lot of spells, but I know
one or two that would punish him for as long as he takes air.”
I headed in her direction. “That’s what I’m talking about. What do you need for the spell?”
“Just no distractions.”
“I can get you that.”
I dug into my backpack and pulled out the stems of the flowers I had kept, carefully plucking off petals and slipping them into my pocket. “We need a plan.”
Chapter 13
I led Frost to the metal door. “Stay behind me. You’re my priestess, here to help me free him. That’s it. Other than that you don’t talk. Okay?”
She nodded. “I think I can manage that.”
I took a deep breath then reached for the handle. The door opened to a crowded but kind of cozy room that looked more like it belonged in a castle than a labyrinth. This wasn’t quite the prison I had imagined him in. Now, more than ever, I wanted Frost’s curses to work on him. If I couldn’t kill him, he’d damn well be uncomfortable for the rest of time. I glanced around the room again. No one else was there—at least, no one we could see.
“Oh, lord of ointments, grace us with your presence,” I announced as we walked inside. “Slaughterer of souls, maker of oils, lord of wine, and wearer of perfume.”
“I do love the old titles.” The deep growl of a voice came before Shezmu revealed himself, seemingly stepping out of the wall. His tongue ran over his muzzle as he looked at me. “It’s been too long since I had a decent meal, Sekhmet.”
“But you wouldn’t want to devour me.” I smiled at his lion face, my eyes flickering to the butcher knife in his meaty hand. His body was round and stocky—hardly an intimidating figure, but his presence filled the room and pushed at the walls. “But you already know that, don’t you? I’m here to free you. If you kill me, you will never leave.”
He tilted his head in consideration. “There is another who shares your blood, and I am starving.”
I took long strides toward him. “But my sister has no sense of adventure. She would never make it through the maze. I’m your only hope.”
“And the other? Is she to be a sacrifice to ensure my goodwill?”
I shook my head. “She is a priestess. She is here only to ensure your escape.”
“Ah.” His eyes rolled around as he looked at her. “I believe she was stunted. Why is she miniature?”
Frost’s eyes narrowed.
I barely held back a smile. “She is small, but I promise she is not defective. She can do what I brought her to do.”
“Very well.” He groaned as he went past me toward a table along one wall, completely filled with piles of books and parchment that was probably made from skin and pitchers and jars. He laid the knife to the side and poured himself a drink of thick red liquid. “This does nothing to satisfy my hunger. I was promised meals and was sent garnishments. There was a time lesser beings trembled at the very sight of me. Now look at me. Wasted away.” He patted his enormous stomach.
“Soon you will be free to once again hunt whoever you like, but first I believe you owe me my treasure.”
He took a long drink from his glass, never removing his eyes from me. “I have made no such bargain.”
I pulled in a breath through my teeth and glanced back at Frost. “That isn’t what I was told.” He didn’t respond. “I guess we came here for no reason. Let’s go.” I started for the door.
“Wait,” he commanded. “I’m aware of the cost for release, but as I recall, I was to deliver payment myself.”
I shook my head. “That’s no longer the case. We will collect it, then free you. I apologize for the slight to your honor, but that is the demand.”
He tapped his finger against his glass as he stared at me. “I have not seen one of your kind since I was tricked into this prison.” He refilled his glass to the brim. “But how am I to know that you are the one I’ve been waiting for? Where is your proof?”
I hadn’t expected that. How could I prove I was my father’s daughter? “You will have to take my word.”
“No,” he said. “You will defeat the spirit Pamiu, and the priestess and I will watch. None other has bested him. Let us see if he will stand down before you. Pamiu, come.”
Icy wind blew through the room, swirling around in the center, grabbing papers and debris until a smoky figure formed.
The air caught in my lungs. He looked just as he did in pictures. My father stood before me, proud and tall, even if he was monochromatic. He withdrew a sword from his side and swung it at me with no hesitation.
I dropped to the floor just as the blade whooshed over the top of me. I didn’t have any weapon larger than the demon-killing knife, so it would have to do. I rolled away from him and pulled my weapon. Staying low to the ground, we squared off against one another. He took another swing that I deflected, but my heart wasn’t in the fight.
I wanted to stare at him, memorize his face, but instead I was forced to battle him. I deflected blow after blow until my arms ached, but I wouldn’t go on the offensive. Not against him. He attacked harder and faster, but I easily matched him move for move, like I knew what he was going to do before he did it.
But it would never end like this. Either we’d fight forever, or I’d wear myself out and eventually make a mistake. I ducked his next swing and did a somersault toward him, sheathing my knife as I came back to my feet. I held up my hands before him, my eyes locking with the ghost of his.
He took a step back and swung hard, but I forced myself to remain still and not fight back or dodge. Just before the blade got to me, he pulled back—then dropped it to the floor with a clatter. He took a small step toward me, then another and another, until finally he reached toward my face, though his fingers never met it.
“Femi.” My name floated toward me on the wind.
“Father,” I said, swallowing hard.
He shook his head, disappointment sinking his shoulders as he tried to touch me again and failed.
“I’m satisfied,” Shezmu announced, taking a seat on his golden throne. “Come. We will discuss your payment for my freedom.”
My father shook his head again, more forcefully than before.
I wanted to talk to him and explain. Greedily, I wished I had hours or days to spend with him rather than seconds, but seconds were more than I ever had before. “I’m sorry,” I mouthed, then turned to make a deal with his murderer.
“Pour us a drink,” Shezmu said, thrusting his glass at me.
I took it without a word and carried it to the table. Dipping my fingers into my pocket, I slipped out the petals from the plant at the beginning of the maze and dropped them into his glass while I poured the blood. I handed the cocktail to him then took a couple steps back.
“You believe you deserve the box.”
“I am merely a messenger.”
He scoffed, sipping the blood. “You have no intention of giving the prize to the one who hired you. That truth is written upon your face—as is your disdain for me. But there is also a determination to get that which you seek. That’s good. Well, good for me.” He drummed his fingers on his leg. “Which world do you intend to destroy?”
Holy crap, what the hell was in this box? “Any that stand in my way,” I replied smoothly.
He nodded his approval, taking another sip. “And how will you release me from this prison?”
“You will walk out with me. My immunity to the labyrinth will protect you. I will carry you out just as I will the box.”
He looked me up and down. “Then I shall let you live today. I make no promises for tomorrow, however. Your family owes me a great debt, keeping me here all of these years, but thanks to your devotion, you will be the last to die.” He said it like he was bestowing a great gift upon me.
My father’s eyes flickered from his sword, still at my feet, to Shezmu. Luckily Shezmu didn’t notice as he gulped down the rest of his wine. A strange expression crossed his face, and he looked closer at the glass. He reached his thick fingers inside and pulled out the last remain
ing petal. “What is this?” he roared, shattering the glass in his hand. Standing up, he swayed on his feet. I grabbed my father’s sword from the ground and put some distance between us. An angry god was a dangerous one, and the plant hadn’t worked as fast as I had hoped.
“It won’t kill him.” My father’s whispering voice floated toward me. “But a ghost will not heal, and it will sever his bond over me.”
Well, that was the best news I had heard all day. I went toward Shezmu with renewed energy.
“You dare to poison me,” he shouted, as he made a grab at me. I sliced the sword along his forearm, laying it open.
He screamed, throwing his entire self at me. He was too wide and the room was too small. I couldn’t avoid him. I braced myself for impact as he impaled himself on the sword, knocking into me. I pulled the sword back out as I fell. His hands immediately went to his stomach, trying to stop the flow of whatever was pouring out of him; it definitely wasn’t blood.
Wispy gray threads leaked from his gut and down to the floor, where they vanished into a round mosaic picture that I hadn’t noticed earlier next to his chair.
“What have you done to me, witch?” He took one step, then two, then fell, batting at the air and talking to himself.
“You freed us,” my father said. “You have released the souls of his victims. Over time, all of them will go and his strength will dwindle, but he will never die.”
I hopped up. “I was never going to let him go.”
“I know,” he said. He looked past me to Frost. He smiled at her, then pressed his hand to his chest and looked back to me. “You have become everything I knew you would, child. I wish I could stay.” He was already being pulled toward the tiles.
“Wait. Please. I have so many questions.”
He nodded. “Your mother has all the answers. You have my heart.” He disappeared beneath the floor.
I didn’t have time to mourn him again. We had to find whatever this box was and get the hell out of this place. “Cast your spells. I’m finding the box. I don’t know how long the hallucinations will last.”
