Book of the Dead (Gods of Egypt 2)

by Nadine Nightingale

  I’m on my knees in front of the sacred ished tree. The flashes vanish. The images, too. Emotions—too many to idenfity them—course through me.

  “Now do you understand?” The Benu is by my side.

  “I’m not death,” I whisper.

  “You’re not,” he assures me.

  “But I was there.” Terrifying memories linger in my mind. “In every vicious moment this world ever experienced, I was there to witness it, watching people take their last breaths, dying before my eyes.”

  “You were.” He tilts his head. “You, my child, were born the protector of life. But when you voluntarily chose death, you became—”

  “The protector of the dead,” I finish for him, Kathy’s words coming back to haunt me. What was it she’d said? Something like, “If I took my last breath, I’d want to look into your eyes too.” And that’s what the people in my visions did. They searched my eyes, and what they found erased their fears.

  “It was your destiny,” Benu says. “And the longer you fight fate, the more suffering you’ll have to endure. Embrace who you are, Princess. Don’t fear death, for you are its guardian.”

  A million questions lie on the tip of my tongue, but before I can say anything, the Benu’s flames burn brighter, higher, until the bird turns to ashes.

  Out of the ashes, a light is born. It grows stronger, wider, and eventually wraps itself around us.

  Mission: Getting the Girls Back from the Underworld

  Chapter 26

  Blaze

  After our run-in with yet another bunch of psycho pseudo-terrorists, we came straight here, to the Sheriff’s Station. Kathy had already dispatched a few deputies. By the time they got to the Blake home, the assailants were gone, leaving behind a path of destruction and plenty of shell casings.

  Remember how Rob was all “they’ve lost their minds” when we told him and V what went down at the Bavarian Inn? It’s safe to say Rob no longer intends to have us all committed. He’s a believer on a mission—the Getting My Girls Back from the Underworld mission—and his efforts are relentless. It’s intriguing what a couple of lunatics with automatic guns can do to a man.

  “This is ridiculous!” Rob fists his hair, pulling so viciously I wonder how he hasn’t scalped himself yet. Obstacles, no matter how small, don’t sit particularly well with him.

  V gently rubs her man’s back. “What’s the matter?” Women are said to be the weaker gender, but when push comes to shove, they deal with their own grief while giving us strength.

  Rob flings himself in the uncomfortable wooden chair. “The price for first-class tickets, that’s what. Who can afford to pay $10,000 for a damn flight?” He shakes his head. “Rockefeller, that’s who. Ridiculous.”

  “Calm down.” She keeps rubbing his back, determined to ease his tense muscles. “Why would you book a first-class ticket, anyway?”

  He points at the screen, his features hard and uncannily serious. “There are only four available economy seats on the next flight to London.” He sighs. “Paying for those will eat up all our savings. No way I can book additional first-class tickets.”

  The boys and I watch V and Rob from across the small office in the Sheriff’s Station. Neither of us dares to say anything, but we all think the same: we can’t wait another day to get to London. We need to find that stupid book before the girls get hurt, or worse, before they get—

  Kathy yanks the door open before I can finish the horrendous thought. She returns from the breakroom with steaming coffee and vending-machine snacks. “There you go.” She hands V and Rob the first two cups, then offers some to us.

  “Thanks,” we all say in unison, grateful for the warm liquid that’ll chase the fatigue away for a while.

  She smiles and perches on the edge of the desk. “Anytime.”

  Paper cup in one hand, I move toward Kathy. “Anything on the gunmen?”

  “No.” She takes a sip from her mug. “But I got news from the hospital. The sheriff is out of surgery, and it looks like he’s going to pull through.”

  “Thank god.” Shaggy is relieved. When our dear history teacher, Thornton, put a bullet in the sheriff’s chest, it was Shaggy who tended to the man’s wounds. He and Scooby were with him every step of the way, even carried him out of the Bavarian Inn after Nisha talked Thornton into releasing a few hostages.

  Kathy offers Shaggy a sympathetic smile. “Say what you want about the man, but he’s a fighter.”

  Shaggy nods. “He is.” The bullet penetrated the sheriff’s heart. The docs weren’t sure he’d make it, especially after they had to roll him into the OR for a second surgery after complications occurred. At least, that’s what Kathy told us on the drive to Martinsburg.

  A few silent moments pass. Kathy finally addresses the pink elephant in the room. “How’s the flight search going?” It was her idea to go to London to check out the obelisk. She’s a cop and my guardian. Sending us to another continent in search of a book that may or may not be hidden in Cleopatra’s Needle isn’t what you’d expect from her. Or it wasn’t what the boys and Rob expected. Me? I know another Kathy. The one who believes in fantastic legends and old gods.

  Rob continues to look at the laptop screen. “Airlines are the devil’s offspring.”

  Kathy furrows her brows. “That bad?”

  “Worse,” Rob shoots back.

  V squeezes her boyfriend’s shoulder. “He’s doing his best.”

  “No doubt,” Kathy assures V.

  The women’s optimism doesn’t sit well with Rob. “Our girls are in Hell with the creeper who sent those crazy bastards to kill us.” He slams the laptop shut. “The best isn’t good enough.”

  I hate to be the voice of reason, but Rob has a point. We’re running out of time, and encouragement won’t get us to London faster. Money might. “I’ve got about $10,000 in my savings account.” It’s all that’s left from my endorsements. The money should have paid my way into college, but higher education is no longer a priority. “We only need the money for one ticket.”

  “No way.” Rob jumps up, his chair screeching as it flies back against the wall. “I can’t let you pay for that. In fact I’m one hundred percent certain I’ll never be able to pay you back.”

  “Then don’t.” Money comes and goes, but there’s only one Nisha and only one Izzy. “I don’t care if you ever pay me back. We need to get to London. That’s all that matters.”

  Rob considers my offer. I can tell by the way his shoulders droop. He might not like it, but he knows as well as I do we don’t have a choice. “I don’t know. It’s—”

  “Enough.” Oz—he’s sitting in the corner, pale and scarily quiet—raises his head. “We don’t need first-class tickets.”

  “We don’t?” Scooby inquires.

  Oz shakes his head, faces Rob, and gets off his chair. “You said there are four economy tickets?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Then we go.” Oz gestures at Shaggy, Scooby, and me. “You guys can take the next flight. By the time you get to London, we’ll hopefully have found that damn book.”

  “No.” V sounds like a Banshee. “You kids have been through enough. I won’t let you fly to London on your own.”

  “Sorry.” Oz looks her in the eye. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m going and there’s nothing you can say or do to stop me.”

  “Me too,” I say, admiring Oz’s sudden confidence.

  Shaggy and Scooby nod. “Us, too.”

  She places a hand against her chest. “But what about your parents?”

  “My parents?” Bitter laughter crawls up Oz’s throat. He looks even crazier than he did two minutes ago—hair sticking out every which way, eyes full of wrath.

  “Oz.” She moves toward him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to….” She reaches for his hand, but he jerks away.

  “Kathy?” Oz’s expression is emotionless. “Have my parents called to ask if I’m still alive?”

  Kathy doesn’t look at him. “I’m sure th
ey’re—”

  “It’s okay,” he says. “No need to make up excuses for them.” He faces V, his eyes a tad bit softer. “We all know they care more about their cars, money, and good name than they ever cared about me. It’s why you,”—he tilts his chin at Rob—“Nisha, and Izzy are the only family I’ve ever known. And I’ll be damned if I let some immortality-seeking punk rip it apart.”

  I had no idea how bad Oz’s relationship with his parents is. Nisha only mentioned they don’t approve of his relationship with Izzy, but the fact they haven’t even called to see if their son is alive? That’s as bad as parents come.

  Oz closes the gap between him and V, taking her hand. “Please let me help get our girls back.”

  Rob nods. “I’ll book the flights.”

  V throws her arms around Oz, hugging the dear life out of him. “Thank you.” She looks at us. “All of you.”

  Shaggy slaps his brother’s back. “Let’s get our passports, brother.”

  “Yeah.” Scooby’s shoulders sink. “But you’re going to be the one who tells Mom and Dad we’re going to London after almost getting slaughtered.”

  Shaggy doesn’t hesitate. “Deal.”

  Kathy is suddenly beside me. “Call your sister.” She inches closer. “She’s still one of the most talented readers I’ve ever met. If anyone can help you find that book, it’s going to be her.”

  I have no intention of involving my sister in this. She’s barely herself, clinging to her strength by a thread. I won’t toss her into the middle of a war with gods and who knows what else, however talented she may be. I nod nevertheless.

  “Done.” Rob throws a fist in the air. “We’ve got a little less than five hours to get you to DC.”

  Kathy eyes her watch. “We better get going, then. Traffic is going to be horrible.”

  “London,” Shaggy cheers, “here we come.”

  “If we survive Mom and Dad,” his brother adds, not entirely convinced they will.

  The Mountain

  Chapter 27

  Nisha

  I dig my nails into the soft reddish sandstone, legs trembling, aware the slightest misstep could be my last. I push my toes into the cracks between the rocks, refusing to look down or acknowledge the solid ground 8,000 feet below me.

  I don’t remember why I thought climbing a gigantic, monstrous mountain without any equipment was a good idea. Up until a few days ago, I wouldn’t have gone on a hike if you’d paid me.

  Nisha Blake—the old Nisha Blake—is a bookworm. The only adventures she needs are the ones her favorite book characters are experiencing. She didn’t mind living through fictional characters. The old Nisha Blake loved boring and she never once regretted it.

  Now, look at me: a brand new Nisha Blake, dangling on a mountain wall like I’m some kind of adrenalin junkie who doesn’t care about a broken neck, shattered bones, or the death of my soul. Frankly, I’m torn between being proud of myself and terrified at the lack of brain cells that got me here.

  Seth shouts something from the top of the mountain—unlike me, he’s a quick climber—but the howling wind carries his words away.

  I’m on my own. This mountain is mine to conquer. Unless the sleeping red dragon conquers me first.

  I wrap my fingers around the next rocky outcrop and scoot up another few feet. Muscles I never knew existed are working overtime. The ache pushes into every nook and cranny. My fingers are sore and bleeding.

  I step onto a narrow ledge. I can’t see it, but it’s there. It has to be, or I’d be falling. Eight thousand feet down, nothing stopping me from slamming into the hard, rocky path. It’d be enough time to see if the myths about one’s life flashing before their eyes are true. But the things I’d see while suspended in the air, limbs flailing, mouth agape to scream for help, wouldn’t be loving memories. I’d see death and destruction, loss and pain—the things I’m made of. I’d see Izzy, captive in that horrendous hourglass prison, waiting for a release that will never come.

  I can’t disappoint her.

  She sacrificed so much for me. What kind of a person would I be if I didn’t give it my all?

  I shut my eyes. It doesn’t matter how bad it hurts or how desperately I want to give up. People are counting on me. People I can’t stand to leave behind. People like Izzy, Oz, Scooby, Shaggy, V, Rob, and… Blaze.

  His face flashes before my eyes, with those blue eyes with the unnatural gold laced into them. “You can’t go into a fight scared,” I hear him say. “You’re bound to lose if you do.”

  “I’m not scared,” I whisper, gazing at the cloudless sky. “I’m tired.” Tired of doing Seth’s bidding, tired of getting the people I love killed, tired of—

  “Princess!” The unfamiliar anger in Blaze’s voice makes me shudder. He’s never been anything but sweet and kind to me, but this version of him, the one living in my mind, is embracing anger as if it could save a life. “Don’t you dare give up.”

  I’m not giving up. My body is.

  My arms are shaking so badly, I doubt they can lift me another inch. It’s a miracle I made it this far.

  “Do you remember what I told you when you asked me why I’d step into a cage, even if I knew I was going to lose?” he says.

  After Blaze had taken me home to have lasagna with him and Kathy, and before I pushed him out of my life, we hung out a lot. We watched movies, caught up on Game of Thrones, and talked for hours. Being with Blaze was easy, kind of like breathing. You didn’t have to think. It all came naturally. So it didn’t feel like a big thing when I asked him if he was ever afraid of an opponent. He admitted he’d been terrified a couple of times, yet he never ran from a fight. When I asked him why, he said, “It doesn’t matter if you win or lose, Princess. At the end of the day, all that matters is that you’ve tried.”

  I’d been intrigued and a little jealous of his carefree attitude. “You’re a glass-half-full type of guy, huh?”

  “No.” He smiled. “You never regret losing. You only regret the things you haven’t tried out of fear.”

  I can stay here until the ledge beneath my feet gives way, sending me to certain death, without the possibility of rescuing my cousin, or I can try.

  “Good,” Blaze whispers as I reach for the next crack. “That’s it, Princess. You’ve got this.”

  I heave myself upward, the top within fingers’ reach when I hear a shriek. My mouth goes dry. My heart slams against my ribcage. Then and only then do I realize the scream came from me.

  “No!” Seth yells, reaching for me.

  The rock under my feet tumbles. Without it, I hang one handed, with nothing to grasp. In a matter of seconds, my arm will refuse to carry my weight. I’ll fall, and nothing will break the impact.

  A rush of adrenalin, pure and powerful, surges through me. In a last attempt to “try,” I reach for Seth’s outstretched fingers dangling above me.

  “Take my hand,” the conqueror pleads.

  I would. God knows I would. But getting hold of Seth will cost me more power than I’ve got left, and I’m not sure I can get to him, anyway.

  Falling is the easiest option. I let go, and gravity will do the rest. Trying is harder. I have to find the will to overcome the pain.

  “You can do it,” Blaze and Seth say in unison.

  I lift my hand. At first, I only feel air. Then the stone bites into my skin.

  I can do this. I have to do this.

  I lock a hand onto the smooth surface and scoot up an inch or so. Enough for Seth to wrap his hands around my wrists.

  “I’ve got you,” he says, pulling me up in one swift move.

  He falls backward, and I land on top of him. His scorching breath sends chills all over my skin.

  Seth’s garnet eyes stay on mine. His hands are still circling my wrists as if he can’t let go. “For a second there,” he whispers, “I thought I’d lost you.”

  The intensity of his stare, his closeness, his heat is too much. “Th-thanks,” I stammer, pushing off him.
<
br />   He says nothing.

  I close my eyes, find Blaze, and say another “Thank you.” Without him, without his warrior spirit, I’d be kissing the rocky path below.

  I shake off the past few moments and scan the area.

  The view is breathtaking: reddish hills and valleys, dry creekbeds and exotic trees. The sky is the most stunning blue I’ve ever seen. No painter, no matter how talented or precise, could ever capture the beauty of it. Alhough I almost died, I can’t regret taking the chance to defy gravity and my fears, and I will never forget the feeling of freedom and peace that awaited me on top.

  “Nisha.” Seth is next to me. “It’s time.”

  I turn, not quite ready to give up this beauty for whatever ugliness lurks around the corner.

  The mountain is the third cavern of the Underworld. Seth told me about it after we left The Woods and the ashes of the Bennu behind. I was to climb to the top of the mountain, enter the Temple of Air, and find the Eye of Horus.

  I have climbed the mountain. Now I only need to walk into the temple and seek the famous Eye of one of the most significant ancient Egyptian deities—the falcon god, son of Isis and Osiris, and rightful ruler of all Egypt.

  The temple—a simple square sandstone building—rests on top of the mountain. Nothing about it is scary or intimidating. Quite the contrary. Warmth and love washes over me as I approach the holy sanctuary.

  After everything I’ve been through—deathtraps, demons, and what not—I proceed up the stairs to the entrance with caution. Looks can be deceiving in this strange world.

  “Good luck,” Seth says, standing by the foot of the stairs.

  I’m taken by surprise. “Aren’t you coming?”

  He shakes his head. “There are places in this world even I can’t go.” He points at the temple. “Horus’s temple is one of them.”

  Fear bites me like a rattlesnake. “But what if I need your guidance? What if—”