Descent of the Soul Destroyer

by Dan Hunter

  Akori remembered he was supposed to be playing the part of a dead soul. “Erm…I suppose I forgot a lot of things.”

  “They weren’t very careful when they took his brain out,” Manu added helpfully. “I think someone dropped it when they were trying to put it in the jar.”

  “Maybe you have something else to exchange,” the mummy said with a grin. Something black and leathery poked through his jaws and stroked his yellow teeth. Akori thought it was a scarab at first, then he realized it was the creature’s decaying tongue. “Perhaps that fine sword of yours?”

  “I don’t think so,” Akori said firmly. “Come on, Manu. We’ll go somewhere else.”

  “Wait!” said Manu. “What about my cloak?” He took it off and held it out to the merchant. Although it was a very plain material, it was well made and in reasonably good condition.

  The merchant coughed, shooting puffs of dust out of the holes in his nose. He reached out a hand and examined the cloak.

  “Hmm,” he said, turning it over. “Not bad. But not enough to pay for the map.”

  Akori was ready to turn and leave, but Manu held firm and continued to barter. “This cloak is made from the finest Egyptian cotton.”

  “But it is so plain,” argued the merchant.

  “That will only increase its appeal,” countered Manu. “It will be to everybody’s taste.”

  The mummy frowned. “Alright,” he sighed. “It is a deal.” He took Manu’s fleshy palm in his bony hand and they shook on it. Then he handed Manu the map.

  “That was brilliant, Manu,” Akori whispered in his friend’s ear. “Now come on, let’s get out of here.”

  They were almost past the stall when Akori felt the dry, brittle bones of the mummy’s hand on his forearm.

  “Wait!” he said. “The little cat is yours, yes?”

  Ebe curled herself around Akori’s feet.

  “Yes, what of it?” Akori said, frowning.

  “I’ve changed my mind. I want her instead. Take your cloak back.” The mummy was already striding out from behind the stall. He snatched Ebe up in his arms before Akori could react. She let out a startled mew.

  “She’s not for sale!” Akori snapped. “Give her back!”

  “Everything is for sale in this place, boy,” snarled the mummy. “Her skin will make an excellent binding.”

  “But you’ve already accepted the cloak as payment,” said Manu. “We shook on it. A deal’s a deal.”

  The mummy laughed, wheezing out great clouds of dust and sand. “So? With Osiris gone, who’s going to judge me now?”

  “Give her back!” Akori demanded and, using all his strength, he pulled Ebe out of the mummy’s clutches. Ebe scrambled gratefully into his arms, accidentally scratching him with one of her claws.

  “Ouch!” Akori muttered. A thin line of blood appeared across his forearm.

  The mummy stopped and stared. “Blood!” he hissed, his tongue flicking hungrily between his teeth. “You’re not dead!” he shouted. “You’re alive!”

  “Run!” Akori yelled, turning on his heel, ready to flee from the market.

  “He’s alive! He’s alive!” the map seller continued to screech. A crowd of the dead started gathering around the stall, moaning and hissing.

  “Just one question, Akori,” Manu said. “Where do we run to?”

  “This way!” Akori shouted, barging through the crowds of dead souls towards a small alleyway.

  “Stop them!” the map seller cried. “They do not belong here. They are not dead!”

  “Call for the army!” another voice shouted. “They’ll soon catch them.”

  “Call for the army!” The cry started spreading through the market like wildfire. Akori’s heart sank as he heard it rippling out into the surrounding streets. How long before it reached the soldiers who had been practising their drills just a block away? How long before the vast ranks of soldiers he’d seen from the mountain pass heard the call?

  “Follow me!” Akori yelled to Manu and Ebe.

  They fled down the alley and came out into a narrow side street, bustling with yet more dead people. Akori glanced over his shoulder and saw a sight that made his blood freeze. A rank of Oba’s soldiers were pounding their way down the alleyway after them, swords aloft.

  “Akori, they’ve blocked off the road!” Manu cried.

  Akori looked ahead to the end of the street. A small group of guards had moved to barricade the exit. They stood glaring, brandishing their spears.

  “Summon mighty Set!” one of them shouted. “He must hear of this!”

  “That’s the last thing we need,” Akori gasped. “We have to get out of here, and fast.”

  But how? he thought to himself. There’s no way out. He heard a loud hiss behind him and turned to see Ebe changing into her Goddess form. The dead around them began to gasp. Ebe flicked her head at Akori and Manu, gesturing to her back.

  “She wants us to get on,” Akori yelled.

  “But is she strong enough to carry both of us out of the city?” Manu cried.

  “We just have to hope so. Come on!” Akori leaped onto Ebe’s back, with Manu right behind him. The rank of sword-waving soldiers was almost at the end of the alleyway.

  “I hope this works,” Akori said. “Hold on, Manu!”

  With a tremendous bound, Ebe launched herself over the startled crowd and landed on the flat roof of the nearest building. Akori heard the soldiers below yelling in frustration. But Ebe ran faster than a loosed arrow, bounding from one rooftop to the next.

  Every time Ebe landed after a jump Akori felt the air being jolted from his lungs. He held on tight, digging his fingers deep into the fur of her neck.

  “We’ve lost them!” Manu said joyfully, looking down into the street below. “They’ll never catch us now!”

  “Get us away from the city, Ebe,” Akori called. “Over there looks good, where the road runs up into that rocky gorge. We’ll find somewhere to hide and check the map.”

  Ebe ran on and on, breathing in great gasps. Akori could tell she was getting tired.

  “Thanks, Ebe,” Akori said fondly. “You saved our lives.”

  But Ebe made no reply. She ran and ran, panting, as she sped across the blood-red sand that spread out beyond the city. Eventually, they reached the dusty road that led up into the rocky ground beyond. To Akori’s relief the place was completely deserted.

  They clambered off Ebe’s back. She immediately rolled onto her side and shrank back to her small cat form. Akori stroked her, doing his best to comfort her.

  “Ebe, are you alright?” asked Manu.

  Ebe gave a small mew, sat up and began to clean herself. She glanced up at Akori as if to say, “Don’t worry, I’m okay.” Akori sighed with relief, then looked at Manu, who was already unrolling the map.

  “We need to find the quickest route to the Hall of Judgement,” Akori said. “We’ve lost so much time. Oba’s army could strike at any moment.”

  “I know,” said Manu as he stared at the map. He was silent for a moment, then he turned to Akori and smiled. “That map seller may not have been very nice, but he really knew his maps. This is a masterpiece! Just look at the detail.”

  Akori frowned. “I don’t want to frame it and hang it on the palace wall, Manu. I just want you to read it. Where are we?”

  “Not far from the last Gate.” Manu pointed to the image of a huge doorway, set into the side of a rock face. “It leads to the deepest region of the Underworld, the part the map calls the Great Abyss.”

  “So that’s where the Hall of Judgement is?”

  Manu nodded. “And then beyond that lie the Fields of the Blessed – where the souls of the good are finally rewarded. I’m hoping things start getting a lot better the closer we get to it.”

  Akori tried to hold onto that thought as they began making their way through the rocky terrain, nervously watching for any sign of an attack. The high cliffs and huge boulders could easily hide any number of ambushers. But nothin
g leaped out at them, nor did anything swoop screaming down from the sky. When he finally caught sight of the majestic gateway carved out of the cliff-face up ahead his spirits lifted even further – only to come crashing down when he saw what was standing in front. Terror rippled through him as he took in the creature guarding the Gate.

  The figure was like a man with a lion’s head. But unlike the Goddess Sekhmet, who was also lion-headed, there was nothing noble in his appearance. Foul, crusted blood stained his mane and his bared fangs. From his waist hung a belt where white, picked-clean bones dangled, rattling as he moved.

  The creature sniffed at the air. “I smell flesh,” he hissed. “And blood. Living blood! Come closer, little manikins. Let Shezmu taste you.”

  “Shezmu?” Akori said, fearfully turning to Manu for an answer.

  “The Slaughterer of Souls!” Manu replied, rooted to the spot with fear. “He’s not a God, Akori. He’s a demon. Even the dead fear him. They say…they say he crushes his enemies’ heads in a wine press – and drinks their blood!”

  “All true,” Shezmu said, and a long tongue emerged from his mouth to lick his blood-caked jaws. “Blood is my wine, yes, yes. And bones, so good to chew.”

  Akori gripped his khopesh. “Stand aside, Shezmu, whatever you are! We’re going through that Gate!”

  Shezmu laughed. “Three against one? That’s not very honourable, little warrior.”

  “Don’t listen to him!” Manu begged. “He’s stronger than any of us.”

  “I challenge you,” Shezmu said, pointing at Akori. “Single combat. You and me.”

  Akori looked at him questioningly. “A duel?”

  Shezmu nodded. “If you win, you may pass. If you lose, you become fresh fruit for my wine press!”

  Akori’s mind raced. He was Pharaoh, and being Pharaoh meant having honour at all times. Even if Shezmu was a demon, he’d challenged Akori to a duel. Akori could not refuse. And besides, he couldn’t put Manu and Ebe in danger. If Shezmu wanted to fight Akori alone, at least his friends would not be at risk.

  “I have to fight him, Manu,” he said. He lowered his voice. “Even if I am facing him alone, I have got four of the Pharaoh Stones. That’s a big advantage.”

  “That’s true,” Manu said. “And you won them fair and square.” The young priest eyed the demon suspiciously. “I still don’t trust him, though.”

  “I don’t either,” agreed Akori. “But I can’t back down. And he’s blocking our entrance to the Gate. We don’t have a choice if we want to get to the Hall of Judgement.”

  “Just be careful,” Manu warned.

  But Akori was already walking forward, pointing his khopesh at Shezmu.

  “Demon, Slaughterer of Souls,” he said. “I accept your challenge.”

  Akori got into a fighting stance in front of Shezmu, the monstrous demon.

  “Put your fancy sword away,” Shezmu snarled. “We fight with these.” He threw a crude bronze dagger at Akori’s feet.

  “Very well,” Akori said, passing his khopesh to Manu to hold. “If it’s a fair fight you want, that’s what you’ll get.”

  Shezmu grinned horribly and brandished his dagger. It looked razor-sharp.

  Akori glanced at his own blade. The edge was dull and the point was blunt. So, that was Shezmu’s idea of honourable fighting, was it? Suddenly, using the Pharaoh Stones didn’t seem like an unfair advantage at all.

  “Come on!” Shezmu roared and, with that, he launched a blindingly fast attack.

  Akori barely had time to call upon the Stone of Speed to match him. Shezmu’s blade sliced the air around him with frantic speed, making cuts and slashes that would have ripped Akori to ribbons if he hadn’t dodged in time. Even with the Stone of Speed empowering Akori, Shezmu was still almost too fast for him.

  Akori ducked a stabbing blow that came right at his eye. So far he hadn’t even had the chance to get in a single blow of his own – not that his blunt bronze dagger would have done any good. He circled around and dodged yet another sweeping slash.

  “Stand still!” Shezmu raged.

  Akori called on the Stone of Strength and elbowed Shezmu hard in the guts. The bones on Shezmu’s belt rattled as he flew back through the air, landing hard on his rump. He grimaced, flipped backwards to land on his feet again, and came running in to attack.

  This time, Akori dodged the dagger, only for Shezmu to follow up with a swipe from his claws and a bite. The claws raked across Akori’s armour, making a sound like a pitchfork dragged across a chest full of coins.

  “I thought we were fighting with daggers!” Akori yelled.

  “Stop your whining,” Shezmu growled. “I’ll fight you with whatever weapons I like! You’ll be dead soon anyway, so what does it matter?”

  Akori knew then that Shezmu was prepared to do anything to kill him. Well, he might not have any honour, but Akori did. And Akori had other things on his side, too.

  Intelligence, for one! Keeping his distance from the dagger and the claws, Akori touched the Stone of Intelligence. I have to find some weakness in Shezmu’s fighting style, he thought urgently. Some way I can win this without cheating.

  Instantly he saw what Shezmu was doing. The demon was focusing his attention on Akori’s unarmoured neck. No matter whether he attacked with claws, mouth or dagger, he never took his eyes off that spot. Akori recalled Shezmu’s words. “Blood! Living blood! Come closer…let Shezmu taste you.”

  Akori leaped backwards out of Shezmu’s reach. Then he deliberately lowered his guard, bringing his weapon hand behind his back as if he were preparing for a mighty blow. His neck was completely unprotected now. Shezmu could bite through it in an instant. Akori would be dead and the demon could drink his fill.

  Shezmu licked his lips. He bared his teeth and sprang, launching himself at Akori’s exposed neck.

  Akori called upon the Stone of Strength, grappled Shezmu mid-leap and pulled him to the ground. As the startled demon struggled, Akori wrenched his arm up behind his back. Shezmu roared in pain, letting the dagger fall. Akori snatched up the weapon with his free hand. But there was no need for him to use it. His strength from the Pharaoh Stone was enough to overcome Shezmu.

  “I win,” Akori grunted. “Yield.”

  “No!” Shezmu roared. “Never!”

  Akori twisted Shezmu’s arm harder. The demon howled, as if pain were something completely new to him. “Yield!” Akori repeated, more forcefully this time.

  “If I yield, you’ll kill me!” Shezmu whined into the dust.

  “No, I won’t. If you get out of here so we can pass through the Gate, then I promise to let you go.”

  “Lies! Filthy lies! Why should I believe you?”

  “I give you my word of honour,” Akori promised.

  “Your word as Pharaoh?”

  “Yes.”

  He felt Shezmu go limp in his arms. “I…yield,” the demon gasped.

  Akori stood up, letting Shezmu go.

  Shezmu got to his feet. He scowled, then bowed to Akori in grudging respect. He crossed his arms across his chest and flames suddenly surged up around him, covering him completely. The next moment, the demon was gone. A blackened spot on the sand and a foul stench in the air were all that he left behind.

  “You kept your word,” Manu said, sounding impressed.

  Akori shrugged. “I had to. A promise is a promise, even if you make it to a demon.”

  Akori and Manu exchanged glances as they stared up at the final Gate. Even their Goddess companion, Ebe, seemed awestruck, winding her way hesitantly between their legs. At last they had reached the heart of the Underworld. Taking a deep breath, Akori and Manu pushed against the Gate with all their might. Gradually it opened to reveal a scene stranger than their wildest imagining.

  Instead of the dull rocky landscape on their side of the Gate, there was a broad walkway made from worked stone, with ornamental sphinxes at intervals on either side, stretching far into the distance. Through the mist, Akori could only just
make out a white building at the very end. On either side of the walkway was a sheer drop, down to a churning ocean of midnight-black water. To Akori’s shock, he realized that nothing appeared to be holding the bridge up. It simply sat, suspended over the ocean, kept in place by the magic of the Underworld.

  “The Great Abyss,” Manu said in awe. “And that building in the distance must be the Hall of Judgement. We’re here, Akori. We’ve made it!”

  “Not yet we haven’t,” Akori reminded him. “We have to get over this walkway, and there are bound to be guards. We can’t risk being seen.”

  Manu gulped. “Then we’ll have to walk along the edge of the walkway and hide behind the sphinxes.”

  And so the nightmare journey began. All they could do was run, wait and run again, trying not to look down into the giddying drop beneath them. But it was impossible not to. The horror of it seemed to draw their gaze in, like a hideous creature that cannot be looked away from no matter how hard you try. Even sleek, graceful Ebe seemed to tremble as she scampered along the bridge ahead of them.

  The mist that weaved its way up from the crashing waves of the Great Abyss was both a blessing and a curse. Its shadowy vapours shrouded the three friends as they made their way across the walkway, so they were all but invisible. But it also swallowed up their feet, making it difficult to see exactly where they placed each step. And simply standing on the walkway was terrifying. Akori could not understand how it felt so solid beneath his feet, when nothing was holding it up. The magic of the Underworld must be more powerful than he could ever have imagined. And yet, he could not keep the terrible fear from his mind that the magic would suddenly fail and send the whole bridge plunging down into the Abyss.

  They had got about halfway along the walkway when Akori heard a sinister creaking sound. The trio darted behind the nearest statue, making sure they were completely hidden, and held their breath. The creaking got louder and louder. Akori peered out and what he saw almost made him gasp in horror. A group of strange figures were making their way past them on the bridge. They wore golden funeral masks and long headdresses, and floor-length black cloaks concealed their bodies. As the group went past, one of the cloaks swung open and Akori caught a glimpse of a shrivelled, bony form.