Wardens of Eternity

by Courtney Allison Moulton

  My body tensed. “Is it—do you feel what I feel right now?”

  “I—” He paused and winced, as if in pain. “Don’t blame yourself. I feel . . . everything.”

  Anubis grew still for some time, too still, in a way that unnerved me to the bone. His human moment had passed, and I was reminded he was an immortal god, existing in shadow and in dreams. He was both darkness and light, pieces of the universe that couldn’t be grasped. The god of death was unreal, an entity but a person somehow, the warden of things darker and more beautiful than my understanding.

  He appeared to recollect himself and looked at me with more clarity. “Forgive me. I’m better now.”

  “The other immortals like you, do they have the same problem when they come here?” I asked, wondering how many like him there were.

  “The others are . . . different,” he replied stiffly. “But this is not our domain anymore. Hasn’t been for eons. We can’t . . . thrive here . . . anymore.”

  “You’ll die if you stay here?”

  “Diminishment is not death,” he clarified, his voice low and sad. “It is worse. We can stay for a few hours comfortably, but any longer than two or three days, and we will fade. Some of us have succumbed to that fate over the millennia—some willingly. But Set, the immortal to whom the kriosphinxes answer, will know the Medjai are in New York now that several of his kriosphinxes were lost. He will risk diminishment to find you. Others will follow him.” The darkness in his voice made his words sound like a warning.

  “What did you mean this domain isn’t yours any longer?” I asked him, my head spinning. “How is it not yours anymore?”

  Anubis moved toward me, his step slow. His mouth flattened, and his brow furrowed as though he searched for words I could understand. “Before humans emerged, earth existed in a primordial state. We, the immortals, lived all across this planet in Egypt, Greece, North America, India, and so on. When humanity arose, the earth transitioned into a mortal one. Some of us enjoyed helping humankind. Others enjoyed terrorizing them. We were worshiped and feared. We became gods. We stayed for as long as we could, but this wasn’t our home any longer. So, we created worlds parallel to this one where we could survive, infinite worlds like tree branches brushing against each other. Eventually our influence on this world began to fade.”

  “Humans pushed you out?” I asked, trying to understand.

  “Some feel that way,” he replied. “And the humans who relied on us, put their faith in us, feel abandoned. It is time we repair our relationship with your kind. It’s our responsibility to do so. I’ve waited a very long time for someone I believe will unite us once again. I believe that person is you, Ziva.”

  “I was told Set has unfinished business with the queen whose ka was reborn inside me,” I said. “He wants me dead so that she can’t be resurrected.”

  Anubis frowned gravely. “I don’t know what he wants, to tell you the truth. He is very dangerous, and I will do whatever is within my power to help you. I can help, and so I will. You’ll need to leave this city as soon as possible.”

  I had no roots anywhere, nothing to lose. If I wasn’t as safe with the Medjai as I’d hoped, there were other options. “I could go west. Disappear somewhere in California. Spending the rest of my life on the run doesn’t sound like much of a life, but it’s better than rotting away in the city.”

  He shook his head. “I meant, leave with the Medjai. You’re safer with your people than out on your own.”

  “I’ve done very well so far, thank you,” I told him. “Whatever is best for me—that’s my decision to make, not anyone else’s. Your concern is appreciated, but you don’t know me.”

  One corner of his mouth pulled into half a smile, deepening a dimple in his cheek. “I don’t know you, Ziva, but I like you. I hope you survive—and I believe you will.”

  I said nothing as he moved, circling me, and a warmth came through the air. But my skin cooled as though a breath blew softly up my arms. Energy crackled between us; it was not an incredible measure, not enough to draw the attention of any nearby Medjai.

  When Anubis spoke, his words were slow and dense with unknown power. A mischievous gleam in his eyes caught the moonlight. “I bless you, Ziva, of the blood of queens.” He stepped away and dipped into a shallow bow. He held out a hand and a small object materialized. “Take this amulet. If you need anything, help of any kind, call for me with this. I will see you again soon.”

  I accepted the amulet, blue faience carved into the shape of a sitting jackal, and Anubis was gone in a flash of darkness.

  A prickling sensation remained on the surface of my skin. Blessed by death? I did not understand what that meant or what he had done to me. I could only hope he’d given me a good thing.

  I’d spent my entire life looking out for myself when no one else would. Then again, my parents may have thought they could protect me better out on our own, and they were dead. If I hung around the Medjai a bit longer, I’d learn more about my power and potential—and more about enemies I didn’t know I had. The Medjai were the only ones who could help me with any of the things that would keep me alive. But if Anubis proved to be the ally he claimed to be, then I was glad to have him in my corner. Who better to take on a god than another god?

  ANUBIS

  The netherworld, home of the gods and the dead, was a place of shadows and whispers and fallen starlight. From the edge of his floating domain, Anubis gazed upon the Necropolis below. Each immortal soul was a tiny light, and the endless expanse of the city was blazing and bright far into the horizon.

  Anubis felt no discomfort from heat or cold, nor did his heart beat or his lungs draw breath for anything save to speak. But here, he felt the chill. This place had a hollow feel, an echo of ice and emptiness that only death brought. That was what immortality felt like—an eternal absence of life.

  With a wave of his hand, his view of the city disappeared. The netherlight orbs revolving above ornate staffs cut from bloodstone illuminated his domain. There was no air to burn fire in this place, nor was there sunlight to shine—only the cold glow of netherlight. The portico was lined with magnificent black marble columns on three sides and his throne stood against a wall whose murals depicted his anthropomorphic form carrying out his funerary duties as protector of the dead. Two open archways on either side of his throne led into his bedchamber and the other, a library.

  The nothingness prickled with power. Another immortal had appeared at his back.

  “You are not welcome in my domain,” Anubis said, his voice as cold and dark as black ice.

  “I was ordered here,” she answered nonchalantly.

  “And I order you to leave, Kauket.” Annoyed, he glared over his shoulder at the goddess of darkness, who leaned casually against a column. Her smile, on full, blood-red lips, oozed malice and venom. The slow, unnaturally wide gesture reminded him of her serpent form dislocating her jaws to swallow prey. Her eyes, carnelian red, were surrounded with heavy lashes and black kohl. Her nose was short and elegantly curved, and her skin was the color of burnished gold. A thick, waist-length mane of onyx curls flowed behind her like a cape. But all the immortals were exquisite and beauty among the beautiful was common.

  Kauket eased toward him, her dress of black scales scraped and clicked across the stone floor. Her forearms were sheathed in bracelets of vertebrae belonging to both animal and man. Shadows clung to the goddess of darkness like a child to a mother’s breast. When she reached him, she slid her vertebrae-ringed fingers up his chest and drew one long, sharp nail into the hollow of his throat. “I don’t serve you, little pup,” she said with a tap of that nail, and strode past him.

  “Kauket, get out.” Anubis’s teeth clenched, and he turned toward her.

  “I don’t think I will,” she called, the playful edge to her voice jagged and sharp as razor blades.

  He let his power flare, the pressure crushing the obsidian beneath his feet. He almost always kept his strength suppressed, a habit he’
d learned around his father for self-preservation. Kauket was no fool; she knew the warning he’d given her. She froze and her gaze fell to watch the fractures in the floor seal themselves like a wound.

  “I will give you the courtesy of not tossing you off my domain if you go on your own accord,” Anubis said, scowling.

  She lifted her chin in defiance. “Set requests your presence.”

  “Is that so?” Anubis asked, feeling a twinge of fear. Set would be furious he’d blessed the Medjai girl. Swallowing his emotion, he held out a hand for her to precede him. “After you.”

  “Don’t worry, night child,” Kauket said, venom dripping from her voice. “I wouldn’t linger around you too long lest I catch whatever it is you have that makes your heart bleed for mortals. It’s a wonder you don’t bleed to death.”

  She marched toward the edge of the portico, utterly lacking any of her previous grace. In a fractal flash of angry shadows and icy netherlight, she disappeared, likely to Set’s domain where he’d be happy to lick her wounds.

  Anubis glared hard in the direction she’d gone, his mind spinning. Showing any fear of Kauket’s master to her face would give her ammunition. Now that she’d fled, he permitted himself a few moments to gather his courage before departing.

  Set’s domain was a sailing temple complex made of several fortresses to create a multi-level maze of statues, columns, passages, pools, stairs, and rooms. A violent, unnatural sandstorm beat at Anubis, ripping at his tunic and his hair, jangling the jewels of his pectoral, and tearing at his skin. He could barely see the pyramid through the rage and lash of storms endlessly circling the domain. Sand beat against stone, tearing out chunks of statuary, only to have them regenerate to perfection. This place was a stark contrast to Set’s hideaway in the mortal world, the city of priests and gilded crocodiles. Here, all was half-drowned in shadows and silence, as though the complex had been forsaken centuries ago in the lifeless desert.

  Anubis continued his trek toward Set’s throne room, past creeping, whining kriosphinxes and blooming braziers of eerie netherlight. He scaled the steps to the top level, took both golden handles of the basalt doors, and pushed them open. The floor and walls of the throne room were gleaming black marble veined with ghostly white quartz, and the ceiling was supported by massive columns made of beryl. The burning bloodstone braziers made the semitransparent, greenish columns almost glow.

  Beyond a shallow impluvium, netherlight glittering off the ripples in the water’s surface, the god of chaos and the desert lounged casually in his glossy basalt throne. When Kauket saw Anubis, she sprawled herself across an arm of Set’s throne, one leg dangling over his. She leaned close to Set, her lips mere inches from his ear, and whispered something that made him smile.

  “Too comfortable in that chair to send for me yourself?” Anubis dared to inquire.

  Set ignored him, his power pulsing against the glittering floor. His face was a mixture of smooth umber skin and unforgiving angles, and his eyes, set beneath an intensely scrutinizing brow, were bottomless dark orbs ringed with amber. A glossy scarab crawled out from behind the jeweled pectoral hanging around his neck, clicked its wings, and disappeared down his bare back.

  “I understand you’ve recently gone topside,” he said, his deep voice grating like a blade against stone. “Three of my kriosphinxes were vanquished and now I wonder if you know anything about that. I’ve lived too long to believe in coincidence.”

  “They weren’t vanquished by my hand, if that’s what you’re implying,” Anubis replied. If his heart could beat, it would’ve been racing.

  Set appeared unmoved as his eyes narrowed and the permanent wrinkle in his brow deepened. “There aren’t many someones out there to blame. The Medjai have arrived in New York City.”

  “Not to my knowledge. They were in London last I heard.”

  “See, Anubis, I know when you’re lying because you’re less cheeky about it,” the god of chaos mused with a drowsy tilt of his head. “Either get better at lying to me, or don’t do it at all. Honesty is less likely to get you dismembered.”

  Anubis lifted his chin. “Despite the obvious dig at my father, everyone in this room knows that’s an empty threat.” He did not care to defend Osiris—the king of the dead was his father in name only—but Set’s pettiness knew no bounds.

  Kauket’s eyes widened at her lord, delighted, and her body grew very still with anticipation.

  “There’s that sass we all know and loathe.” Set’s smile was sticky with sarcasm. “I sent my kriosphinxes to investigate the surge of magic in Manhattan only to send them to their doom. They were a gift to me.”

  “One you’ve squandered,” Anubis countered.

  Set scowled and leaned forward. “You’re too young to know—to understand—what I lost—what I did—to complete the task that earned me the kriosphinxes.”

  “I know what you’ve done,” the god of death replied, his voice cold and careful.

  Set slammed his fist on the arm of his throne. Stone cracked and Kauket leapt to her feet in fright. “You had better watch that tongue lest you forget what your mother has done. I will never forget.”

  Anubis swallowed and felt his throat tighten. He hated for his mother to be dragged into this and thrown at his face like a dagger. But he couldn’t argue she had nothing to do with what animosity boiled between himself and Set. She had everything to do with it.

  Dredging deep within himself for strength, Anubis clenched his fists. “Have you anything else to interrogate me about, or do I have your permission to leave?”

  Set sat back in his throne, but he did not relax. “Did they find the scion yet?”

  “You know I wouldn’t tell you either way,” Anubis said. “I will not help you murder a mortal girl over a grudge.”

  The look that came over Set’s face was difficult to read. He didn’t seem insulted. Rather, he seemed scornful. “Who said anything about murdering her?”

  “What else could you possibly want?” Anubis demanded with impatience.

  “True, her death would be the simplest solution to my tribulation,” Set mused. “The girl is a means to an end—Nefertari’s end. I will have what was promised to me.”

  Anubis thought quickly. There had to be something to appease Set so he would leave Ziva alone. “Perhaps if you tell me what the queen owes you—”

  Set’s laughter cut him off. “How generous of you! Tell you what—set her shriveled corpse on fire. Her magic has protected it from me.”

  “I cannot desecrate the dead,” Anubis reminded him.

  “Which is why I didn’t run straight to you in the first place. I will do what has to be done.” The lord of chaos rose from his throne and vanished in a spiraling plume of shadows and netherlight.

  Kauket turned to Anubis, face pale and eyes fearful. “You don’t want to start a war.”

  “I hardly think we’re headed in that direction,” Anubis said tiredly. “Tonight’s conversation was nothing but typical.”

  She was not swayed. “Tonight. And what of tomorrow night? And the night after? Events Set has awaited eons for have finally begun to unfold.”

  “Just as I have waited,” Anubis countered. “The time for us to return to earth has come.”

  “He believes the same and he will let nothing stand in his way,” she warned. “He can’t.”

  “Neither can I,” Anubis replied unflinchingly.

  He turned his back to her, avoiding the shining eyes of the kriosphinxes hiding among the pillars and sculptures. They pawed stone and marble and bashed their skulls together, the crack of horn to horn reverberating through the complex. Hungry for discord. He did not stop or slow his pace, and the beasts, so tall they were nearly eye level with him, retreated like the tide, creating a path for him.

  CHAPTER

  6

  I woke early, before the sun breached the horizon, so I could meet Nasira for our training. Someone had set out a day dress and athletic wear and I wondered who had sneaked in
to my room a second time. Certainly, the gesture was intended to be courteous, but I found it creepy.

  Whoever had prepared these outfits had given me a choice this time, but I’d made up my mind yesterday. Hastily I put on the sleeveless exercise shirt and loose-fitting knickers, grabbed an apple from the bowl, and jogged toward the front hall entrance. I considered telling someone about my visit from Anubis, but first I needed to decide whether to heed his warning.

  Nasira waited for me at the front door wearing her own equipment and a quiet smile. “I’m glad to see you this morning, Ziva,” she said.

  I was reminded of my first impression of her, how she looked scandalous dressed in clothing more appropriate for a man, and I glanced down at myself. I looked as scandalous as she did—and it excited me. Of course, our gear wasn’t designed to be a defiant fashion statement; we were dressed to be practical. But it still felt good.

  Then I realized how narrow and knobby my legs looked next to her strong ones, and for a split second I wanted to wear the dress and hide the sharp angles of my hips and knees. I drove the thought from my mind, focusing on how I would soon be healthy like her.

  After our training, my body felt like overstretched rubber, but Nasira promised this was a good feeling. All morning I’d wanted to tell Nasira about my visit from Anubis last night, that he had blessed me—whatever that entailed. But considering her feelings toward the gods as a whole, I wasn’t sure if divulging the encounter was a good idea. Not yet. I’d need to learn more about her first. The last thing I needed was for her to consider me fraternizing with the enemy. Was Anubis the enemy? My heart told me he wasn’t.

  We headed back to the house to bathe and dress for breakfast, and we ran into Sayer as he walked toward us from the road. He’d tied his shoulder-length hair behind his head, but locks had pulled free around his face to cling to his dewy skin. He looked wild and winded.

  “Take a look at this,” he called, his expression intense. In his hand was a folded-up newspaper. “A few of the homes on this road still receive the daily paper and I thought the front-page article might interest you both.”