Earth Guardian (Deities Series Book 2)

by Kristin D. Van Risseghem

  “What is it?” Dr. Mara asks. I can barely hear her over the moaning of the wind, getting louder.

  “I think it’s a gas of some kind. Didn’t you smell it? I don’t trust it. Maybe that’s why the lights are different, too. It might be flammable, or poison, or sleeping gas for all we know.”

  I look up. The billowing air across the ceiling is misty, like a fog. It slowly curls as parts of it lower into the room.

  “Hey—I found the Air Rite, here on the floor,” Tage shouts, copying into her notebook.

  “Good work, Tage.” The doctor joins her, also copying.

  “Doctor, do we have any gas masks in here?” Torrent is fishing through his pack, awkward in his prone position.

  “No, only the medical masks. Maybe they’ll help.” We all put on our thin, white cloth masks, covering our mouths and noses.

  “Now what?” Ash looks at us. “I don’t dare use fire in here.”

  “We have no water,” Torrent states the obvious.

  I crawl to the door. I reach as high as I can, but can’t get to the earth symbol. I lift just enough to put my hand on it. Nothing happens. I try again to send my energy through the painted floor, but the magic blocks me, I can sense it.

  The acrid smell is hitting my nose, making me cough. “I can’t do anything,” I yell back to them.

  The mist is dropping, bringing its awful smell with it.

  “Everyone, let’s say the confession again, loud as you can,” Dr. Mara reads from her notes. “Hail, Am-khai-bit, who comest forth from Qer-net, I have not stolen.”

  We shout it in return and wait. Now we’re all coughing.

  “Wait a minute,” a memory jogs my mind. “Didn’t you guys steal from the Treasure Room?”

  “What?” Dr. Mara looks at each of us.

  “Hell, yeah, I took some treasure. That’s not stealing, it’s an ancient fucking room.”

  “Yeah, no one owns that stuff.” Smoke adds. “It’s ours now.”

  “Soldiers—I told you not to take anything,” the doctor is furious. “Take it out now, throw it from you, all of it!”

  Ash, Smoke, Tage, and Torrent search through their pockets and packs, finding various small gold and blue lapis lazuli objects, tossing them all into a pile on the floor. Everyone is coughing, and I’m beginning to feel weird. My eyes are watering. Tage lies her head down on her arms, closing her lids.

  Dr. Mara jabs her awake. “No sleeping! Everyone repeat the confession with me again: Hail, Am-khai-bit, who comest forth from Qer-net, I have not stolen.”

  Nothing happens.

  “Again: Hail, Am-khai-bit, who comest forth from Qer-net, I have not stolen.”

  We repeat the words, though Tage’s head is lowering again. Our voices get quieter through our hacking, and now even that is subsiding. A great heavy sleepiness is filling my being as the smell surrounds every pore of my skin.

  “Oh my god.” Dr. Mara is staring at the wall opposite her. I strain my head around to see. “That large painting on the wall, do you see it?”

  “What does it mean?” I ask.

  “Look—there’s a body lying on the ground, and see how its human-headed bird spirit is flying out of it? Towards the square hole at the top of the corbelled ceiling?”

  “Actually, doctor,” Smoke says. “You can’t have an oculus opening in a corbeled ceiling. Each of these stones are stacked in a spiral shape from the base of the dome up, creating the narrowing effect.”

  “Not now, Nerd,” Ash says.

  “As the ceiling narrows, the lower stacked stones press in on each other to stabilize the structure,” Smoke continues without acknowledging his sister’s request. “But those final stones that close the dome are carrying the structural load of the whole ceiling. An oculus opening would likely cause the ceiling to collapse. For some reason I remember the architect Imhotep was responsible for the corbeled ceiling. I think.”

  “Thank you Smoke for that correction. Back to what I was saying, the human-headed bird is its spirit, its ba—being swallowed by the wind.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  “Swallower of Shades—it means our spirits?” Smoke’s eyes widen. “Then it is poison?”

  “I think so—everyone, keep your heads close to the ground.”

  “Look.” Torrent is facing the door leading out. “It opened—let’s go. I don’t think the door opening for us means that we’ve passed the challenge. But I’m not sticking around to find out if we need to do it again.”

  We begin crawling toward the open doorway as fast as we can.

  “Guys—Tage is passed out,” Smoke shouts behind me. “I need help with her. Crawling like this and hauling her has irritated my leg wound.”

  I look back a second, then body-crawl to him. We pull, struggling to move Tage’s small body. Torrent joins us. It takes us a while to drag her to the doorway, where Ash grabs her and pulls her through.

  “The doctor.” Smoke is already crawling back into the swirling mist. Torrent and I join him, grabbing, pushing and pulling the doctor, inch by inch, to the door. Exhaustion weighs me down so I can hardly move.

  Just as we reach the doorway, Torrent stops moving.

  “Tor,” Ash shouts as she helps pull the doctor into the dark passageway with her. Smoke and I push Torrent’s body—Ash grabs him and pulls him out of the poison.

  I can barely move anymore, my eyelids droop on their own. Something jerks on my arms, and Ash’s strong hands grab my elbows, yanking me through.

  The cool, clear air in the dark passage revives my mind a little—I crawl on my hands and knees out of the way, gagging.

  “Smoke!” Ash jumps into the fog, grabs her brother, and drags him out, wheezing and coughing. “Ridge—the door!”

  I stumble to the doorway, find the glyph and press my hand against it. The stone rumbles shut, poofing white mist around my face, and I collapse.

  I open my eyes, my head clearing in the cool, musty air.

  “Wake up, wake up.” Ash is patting Torrent’s face with one hand, holding an orange firelight in her other. Tage and Dr. Mara are stirring, sitting up. They turn on their red lights in this narrow, dark hall, taking off their face masks and packing them away.

  “Is everyone all right?” Dr. Mara’s voice is raspy.

  My own throat is dry and burning. We need water, bad. I remove my mask and flick on my red light, shining it around, checking everyone. Torrent is sitting up, eyes blinking.

  Ash moves to Smoke, lying right inside the door. “Smoke, wake up.” She pats his cheek. “Smoke? Smoke? Doctor, his skin feels funny.”

  The doctor moves to Smoke, grabs his wrist and checks his pulse. I stare at her, counting the seconds. She checks her watch again.

  Time stops as we all watch her, our red lights bathing the scene.

  “He’s … he’s gone.” She breathes into his mouth and starts compressions. “But maybe we can …” The doctor continues CPR. She doesn’t need to tell us anything more. Smoke’s coloring says it all.

  “What? No, no, he’s not.” Ash shakes her brother, removes his mask, shouting in his face. “Smoke, wake up—come on—wake the fuck up.” She keeps shaking him, slapping his cheek harder and harder. The fire in her palm flares tall in a rush, then goes out, leaving just our red beams of light on Smoke. “No, no, no, no—not my brother, not Smoke. You can’t leave me, you’re all I have!”

  Tage joins her in shaking Smoke, though she moves slowly. “Don’t you dare, come back to me. To us.” Her tears fall and she collapses on Smoke’s chest, wailing. Ash stands, eyes flashing as both hands burst into flames, then turns and stalks up the passage.

  “Ash,” Torrent’s voice cracks. He stands and stumbles after her.

  “Wait, come back,” I try to shout, but it comes out as a rough whisper.

  “Give them a minute, they won’t go far.” Dr. Mara is rubbing Tage’s back, her eyes resigned.

  When Tage stops crying, she gives Smoke a kiss on the lips, then begins rubbing
his arms, legs, feet. “He’s getting cold.”

  “He would probably say that his body temperature couldn’t be lowering that fast and how it could be Egpytian magic doing it.” I nod to Smoke’s body. “What do we do now?”

  “We can’t leave him here.” Dr. Mara looks up the dark passageway. “We’ll take him with us.”

  I nod, knowing this means Torrent and I will have to carry the load. How can we do this now? We can’t possibly make it … I stop my black thoughts. I can’t think about it. One step at a time.

  After a long while, orange lights make their way back to us. Ash’s eyes are dark, Torrent beside her. His arm wrapped around her shoulders. Her fire is out.

  Without speaking, the two of them move to pick up Smoke. I jump up and join them, removing Smoke’s pack and handing it to our leader. It’s awkward, as the soldier’s body wants to flop this way and that and is heavy, especially his head. Tage joins us, placing his arms across his torso, tears streaming down her face. Together we carry him. The doctor goes in front with her red light.

  “Torrent, how far does this go?” the doctor asks.

  “A long ways. We didn’t reach the end.”

  We move slowly, trying to step together and not drop our friend.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  This can’t be happening. It’s not happening. I’m numb. I’m moving like a robot as we carry the body. I can’t think. I can’t believe this. I didn’t even know him that well. But we can’t go on without him, he’s the best at figuring things out. I blink, but my eyes are dry. He can’t be dead. We can’t have someone die. We’re going to make it through this together. Another layer of heavy blackness settles on my heart.

  After a long walk, Dr. Mara stops. “Hm. So the passage narrows here. The walls slope down on an angle, narrowing the floor—there’s only room for one person at a time to walk through here. Ash, here’s the fire glyph.”

  We carefully lay Smoke onto the ground, giving our arms a break. Ash presses the symbol, and a row of braziers roar to light life all down the passage with the strange walls angling to the floor, like the letter “V.”

  I study the path ahead. “What are those holes in the floor?” Along the narrow walkway, so narrow we’ll have to put one foot in front of the other, are square holes about the size of a chair leg. Each hole is incorporated into the elaborate Egyptian artwork, mostly black and white coloring with some red. The holes are spaced pretty close together, all the way down the passage. “We won’t be able to avoid stepping on those.”

  “Here’s a glyph for one of the forty-two judges.” Dr. Mara is reading the wall. “‘Bestower of Powers from the City.’ The sin is ‘making distinctions for the self.’ I think it means self-aggrandizement.”

  “Whatever. How the fuck are we supposed to walk through?” Ash goes close to one of the holes and shines her red light inside. “Damnit.” Her body is ridged, just under her skin red flickers. Her anger brewing under the surface.

  I join her. There’s something not too far below, pointy and sharp. “It’s a trap.”

  Torrent looks at it. Then he takes Smoke’s backpack, empties it, and tosses just the pack out onto the holed path.

  A slicing sounds, and then a narrow square stone spears shoot up out of the holes, spearing the pack; it dangles on one of them. They’re like a row of thin, sharp obelisks, reaching a man’s height. After a minute, they disappear back into the holes with quick movement, the pack falling.

  Tage kneels by Smoke’s side, staring at the passage, but her face is blank.

  “What do we do?” I turn to Dr. Mara.

  “Were those made of stone?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “Yeah, Ridge, see what you can do.” Torrent moves out of the way.

  I inch forward, trembling, stepping right in front of the first hole. I put my hands out on either side, and pour my focus onto sealing the stone inside, so they won’t shoot up. “Okay, someone throw something.”

  Another backpack flies past me, landing just in front. I hold my arms out like stone themselves, forcing the stillness and solidness of earth to stay.

  Nothing happens. The hall is silent.

  “You did it,” Dr. Mara.

  I take one step, then another, my feet landing over the holes. I reach the first pack, pick it up, keep going until I fetch the other one, and walk back, always keeping at least one palm out, face down.

  “Can you hold it like that while we all go across?” The doctor hands the torn pack to Torrent, who retrieves his duct tape.

  I nod. “But how will we carry Smoke across?”

  “Help get him over my shoulder, I can do it.” Torrent hands Smoke’s duct-taped pack to our leader.

  We’re silent as we work together, helping to lift the heavy body onto Torrent. We steady him.

  I go first, holding my hands out. Ash is behind me, then Torrent with the body, then Tage, always close to Smoke, and the doctor last.

  We go slowly, one step at a time. Torrent steadies himself by touching the angled walls. The braziers are pretty close in this narrow space, warming the cool air.

  “The writing on the walls here, they’re showing the earth symbol a lot.” Dr. Mara must be reading as she goes.

  She’s right, the writing has a lot of the earth glyph all over here. I turn my focus back to my power, willing the stone to remain fused and still beneath our feet.

  “Look, the hieroglyphs change up ahead, lots of fire symbols.” Ash points past me. Right at one spot the repeating earth glyph changes to the drawing for fire, and the colors of the walls have more red and yellow.

  With my next step, I hear a rumbling and Ash jerks me back into her. Spears of flame shoot out of the row of holes in front with a roar, searing my face and eyebrows. Just as quickly, they disappear.

  I gasp, my heart pounding. “It changed!” Nothing should surprise me in here anymore. My face is hot and wet with sweat.

  “I got this.” Ash moves in front, focuses her palms face down, then steps forward.

  The holes remain quiet as she moves forward, one step at a time. After watching a minute, I follow, the sweat tickling my back.

  “The hieroglyphs are talking about trials in here, I think. The earth trial first, now it speaks of fire. Ash and Ridge, watch the walls—stop before it changes again.”

  We obey our leader, keeping our eyes on the artwork. After moving slowly a long way, the walls suddenly change again. The colors shift to mostly vibrant blue and white, the water symbol repeating among the writing.

  We have to stop and regroup. With Ash’s help, we shift the body over my shoulder. The weight of Smoke almost makes me stumble, but Ash steadies me, keeping close to her brother. Tage is near, too, her hand on my back.

  Torrent moves in front. He gets Smoke’s pack and throws it. Thin spears of razor-sharp ice shoot up, tearing the pack, before slicing back into the holes. But Torrent is quick, and with a movement of his hand slices a sliver of ice off the nearest spear before it disappears.

  He picks it up, smells it, then touches his tongue to it. “Damn. Saltwater. And sharp as hell.” He drops it. “At least after we clear this room, I can pull the water and then we can purify it with our iodine kits.”

  Putting his arms out, palms down, Torrent takes a step, then another. The ground remains still.

  Ash follows him, then me. It’s extremely difficult moving with such a weight on my shoulder, but Tage keeps her hand on my back to steady me. I put my arms out to the angled walls for support. I can only take one slow step at a time, trying to keep my balance on this narrow path.

  I’m sweating, moving slowly, for forever. Then Ash stops.

  “It changes again,” Torrent calls back. “Now it’s showing the air symbol all over the walls.”

  I lift my head. The wall paintings change to mostly white and yellow. The symbol for air covers the writing as far as we can see up the passage.

  So now what?

  Chapter Forty-Eight

&nb
sp; “Help me, Tage.” I can’t hold Smoke any longer. She and Dr. Mara assist lowering his body onto the narrow ground.

  “Tor, keep the trap off,” Tage cries. She holds onto Smoke, leaning him against her as if they’re cuddling, holding his head to keep it from falling over.

  A shudder runs through me. I turn away, rubbing my sore shoulder. “What do we do now?”

  Dr. Mara is thinking, her brows drawn. “My guess is that when we walk over that trap, it will release more poison gas. Ash, can you see how far it goes?”

  “No, it goes on farther than I can see.” She stares down the hall. “Fuck it.” Ash reaches into her pack, pulls out her medical mask, and puts it on. “Here goes nothing.” She crouches, then takes off running as fast as she can, stumbling against the angled wall here and there. Hissing follows as gas shoots up from the hundred holes, reaching her and shooting past. She stumbles but keeps running.

  The gas permeates the air all around us. We move back as far as we can, back into Torrent’s realm. I bend over, coughing. The doctor and Tage have a rash spreading up their arms. Torrent doesn’t seem to be affected by the poison as much as everyone else. Could it be his affinity to water that protects him?

  The rest of us grab our masks and put them on, stepping further away from the gas. After several seconds, the hissing stops and the mist swirls into nothing, but the acrid smell is unmistakable.

  “Ash,” Torrent shouts.

  But she’s gone.

  I can’t believe she did that—she didn’t talk to us or anything. What if she’s dying and we can’t see her? How will we know? I stare down the empty passage, my mind blank and running in confusion at the same time.

  Torrent is holding a hand out, keeping the ice behind us from killing us, but he doesn’t stop staring down the hall. “Ash? Ashley!”

  We’re silent. Finally, a small voice echoes back to us.

  “I made it.”

  “Are you okay, Ash?” Torrent calls, his voice hoarse.

  “You … have … to … run.” Ash’s voice sounds strained, too.

  We look at each other. Run? In this narrow walkway? With Smoke?