Book of the Dead (Gods of Egypt 2)

by Nadine Nightingale

  Seth begs, “Please don’t do this. Did you forget your promise?”

  The same girl I saw before—the girl that looks so much like me, we could be twins—draws a deep breath. “I will always love you, but sometimes love isn’t enough.” She moves toward a stone altar in the center of the chamber.

  Seth approaches the threshold of the chamber. He pleads with her. “Don’t do this. We both know there’s only one way to stop me.”

  She frees the snake from the glass box with a spell. Seth tries to stop her, but it’s too late. She milks the poison of the snake onto a dagger. “To take his life, I sacrifice mine,” she says and slices across her palm.

  “You killed him,” the figure roars accusingly. “You betrayed the man you swore to love, cursing us all.”

  Cursing us all. Words that will haunt me forever, though I don’t really know what they mean. The girl cursed only herself and Seth. She gave up her immortality so he would lose his. “How did this lead to the death of my family and friends?”

  The figure pushes me. I lose my balance, nose-diving into sand.

  We’re back in the desert, except I can see the mighty Nile.

  Knocking sand off my skirt, I straighten, ready to unleash my frustration on the obnoxious figure, but it’s too far out of my reach.

  Stomping toward it, I notice fire burning in a bronze bowl. The figure is leaning over it, something dangling from its hand. His mouth moves as he whispers. A hawk circles over his head.

  The closer I get, the harder my heart beats. When I realize what’s dangling above the spooky red flame, my pulse thunders in my ears.

  The figure dips the amulet—the same amulet Seth gave me for protection—into the bowl. “I, goddess of protection, princess of all of Egypt, command you to keep my love safe. I bestow my power in you, regardless of Ma’at. Let the gods strike me down, let the world burn, but you shall be safe.”

  The flame rises higher, devouring the piece of jewelry like a hungry beast gobbles food. The fire moves into the amulet until the gold merges with it.

  “Nebt-Het,” Seth yells, running toward the figure. “What are you doing? I’ve been searching the whole palace for you.”

  The figure drops its hood, exposing the girl I once was. “I made this for you,” she says, securing it around his neck. “It’ll keep you safe on your quest.”

  Seth kisses her passionately. “I love you. Forever.”

  “Forever,” she replies, melting in his arms.

  “Actions have consequences,” the figure—a former version of myself—says beside me. “You disregarded the law. Rules that were made to keep the world in order. You must face the repercussions,” she says as the killing field surrounds us once more.

  I broke the laws. I made this amulet, consequences be damned. I eye the bodies of the people I love. “I killed them,” I cry. “I killed them to save—”

  “Love, can you hear me?” Someone’s shaking me, or maybe I’m shaking. I don’t know, and I don’t care. “Nisha?” Two fingers under my chin, Seth forces my eyes up. “Look at me.”

  I squint, taken by surprise. “What do you want?” I cry. “Haven’t I seen enough? Don’t I carry enough guilt? Do you—”

  “Shh.” He hugs me. “You’re safe. You made it.”

  I push him away. I’m at the shore. The desert is behind me. Kherty’s boat is in front of me. “The desert?” I sob.

  “You conquered it,” he assures me. “It’s in the past.”

  Only I know it isn’t. What I saw, what I felt, has shaped me for the rest of my life, however long or short that may be.

  Book of the Dead

  Chapter 34

  Blaze

  Shaggy’s gaze darts across the narrow hallway. “Of all the places in London, did you have to pick this one?”

  I didn’t exactly pick this place. I was the one who made the call and suggested we hide here, in London’s famous Tombs, but we didn’t have much of a choice.

  We were still on the run from Seth’s psycho followers when my mom called. “Don’t come home,” she’d yelled into the phone. “The police are outside, ready to arrest you. They caught you on CCTV, assaulting a constable.”

  I was about to ask her how they identified us so quickly when it hit me. I have a record. All they had to do was use their famous face-scanner. Bang, they got my name and address. Now we’re not only hunted by pseudo-psycho terrorists, but London’s police force, too.

  “No one is going to look for us down here,” I assure Shaggy.

  “Of course not.” He brushes a plastic head, which is dangling from the ceiling, out of his face. “They probably think we’ll die here. Why bother coming after us?”

  Will, one of my oldest friends, who happens to work in the Tombs, laughs. “Seems like you’re running with the brave these days, mate.”

  “Give the bloke a break, would you?” For Will, a guy who scares people for a living and practically lives here, it’s easy to make fun of Shaggy. The bitter truth is this place is scary enough during the day. It’s a haunted attraction below ground, with psycho doctors, chainsaw dudes, and zombies.

  “Chill, mate.” Will waves his hands like a white flag. “Just taking a dig.”

  Shaggy casts him a killer look. “Ha ha. Hilarious.”

  “Boys.” Jade’s sweet voice is a pleasant change to the boys’ bickering. “I could use a little break,” she says as we pass through the gruesome doctor room. The walls, along with the old-fashioned dentist chair, are smeared with artificial blood. Paired with the moldy smell down here, it’s unpleasant as hell.

  Will takes a sharp left and opens a door. “How about a break in the breakroom, beautiful?”

  Jade wiggles her nose. “Someone forgot how much I loathe nicknames.” She brushes past Will. “Especially the ones that reduce me to a pretty face.”

  Will frowns. “How could I ever forget, beautiful?” He shrugs coolly. “After all, it was the reason you broke my heart.”

  If looks could kill, Will would be a dead man. Jade and Will’s relationship has gone from swoon-worthy to I-can’t-stand-to-be-around-you in a matter of weeks. “You’d have to have a heart for me to break it.”

  “Says the ice queen,” he counters, unafraid of the Boswell wrath.

  Jade isn’t usually a bitch, and Will is more of a joker than a fighter, but put them together in the same room, and you are bound for a bloody war. I blame their dating history. I’ve known the guy since we were seven, and he’s always had it bad for Jade. She was fifteen when she finally noticed him. I didn’t like them together. Not because Will is a bad guy. He’s loyal to the core. It’s just that no one could ever live up to the standards I set for my sister. Anyway, after a couple of weeks, Jade lost interest. Claimed Will was too old-fashioned for her taste. Granted, the excuse—coming from a girl who lived and breathed cheesy romance movies like Gone With the Wind—was a bit odd. I was too happy about their breakup to give it much thought.

  My sister is seconds from going haywire. I’d let her get on with it, but her revenge will have to wait. “That’s enough.” I step between them. “We don’t have time for silly arguments, wouldn’t you both agree?”

  Jade says, “Sorry.”

  “What she said.” Will fumes.

  I need a distraction, anything that’ll take my mind off her, Will, and their unresolved issues. Scanning the breakroom comes in handy. It’s not much—a simple wood table and a couple of plastic chairs. Judging from the utensils lying around—cups, used and unused tea bags, a couple of wigs and makeup—I’d say the actors, playing rotten zombies and ghosts to scare the heck out of people, hang around quite a bit.

  “Make yourself at home.” Will moves past me, flings himself on a chair, and kicks his legs up on the table.

  Jade still wants to strangle poor Will, but she’s tired, and even his dirty looks won’t keep her from getting some rest.

  A dull sound draws my attention. Scooby dropped the heavy tome we found hidden inside Cleopatra
’s Needle on the table. With that noise comes a dire, but much needed, reminder.

  We have The Book of the Dead. We can get Nisha and Izzy out of whatever hell they’re in. And nothing, absolutely nothing else matters.

  “We found the book,” Oz says.

  “Yeah.” Shaggy pats Oz’s shoulder. “Can’t believe it, but we did.”

  “It’s a miracle,” Scooby adds. “I mean, what were the chances?”

  Almost zero, yet here we are, gazing at the ancient tome.

  “I’d gladly join in the celebration,” Will says, “but I’d have to know why we’re happy about some stupid book.” He raises an eyebrow at me. “One that, by the way, got you on Scotland Yard’s most-wanted list.”

  “You’re exaggerating,” Jade says.

  “Am I, though?” He pulls out his phone, opens Safari, and a moment later a video of me, assaulting the freak who almost shot Jade, flickers across the screen. “Because this looks ‘most wanted’ to me.”

  I have to agree it looks bad. “They cut out the part where the bloke almost shot Jade,” I point out.

  Will’s jaw clenches. “He what?” He’s next to Jade in a heartbeat. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

  “No,” she says, dismissing his concern. “Besides, what’s done is done.”

  “She’s right.” Oz traces an odd metal symbol on the tome’s cover—a snake eating its own tail. I believe it’s referred to as ouroboros, an ancient Egyptian symbol representing the infinite cycle of creation and destruction. “We need to consider our next moves. Having the book doesn’t mean we know how to get Izzy and Nisha back.”

  Shaggy rubs his chin, smirking like only he can. “Call me crazy, but I suggest we open the book and see what it says.”

  “Good idea, smartass.” Scooby tilts his chin at the tome. “Two things. One, there’s a lock. Two, can any of you read ancient Egyptian?”

  Horseshit. We never thought further ahead than finding the book. In hindsight, we’d have been wise to have a plan. You know, in case we were successful.

  Oz tries to open it with force. He fails. “Shit!”

  “Let me.” Shaggy tries to pick the lock. Unsuccessfully.

  Scooby and I wait our turns. None of us can get it to open.

  “Stop,” Jade orders as I attempt to rip the lock off. “It won’t open with force.”

  Oz says, “Got a better idea?” He’s careful not to unleash his anger on her, out of fear of me or respect for her, I can’t tell.

  She examines the book forensically. “Interesting,” she murmurs.

  “What?” Now look who’s unloading his frustration on her. Moi.

  “The energy of the book,” she says, ignoring my hostility. “It’s similar to Oz’s. In fact, I see a red ribbon extending from the book to Oz.”

  We gape at her. Only Will is mad enough to open his mouth. “Not to be an arsehole, but what the fuck is your sister on?”

  She scowls. “You are an arsehole, Will.”

  “Wow, that’s very kind of you, beautiful.”

  She swallows her anger and focuses on Oz. “I think you can unlock it.”

  “How?”

  Hope is a sneaky bitch. Takes less than a second to crawl into your heart and set your soul on fire.

  “See that?” Jade points to the ouroboros.

  “The snake?”

  Jade nods. “Drip some of your blood on it.”

  Will almost falls from his chair. “Whoa. Since when are you into the dark arts?”

  “Shut up, Will.” And he does, because he knows exactly what my sister is capable of. She can literally rain down hell on you if you piss her off. Or she could, prior to the incident.

  Oz loses no time. He’s already pricking his finger with a sewing needle he found on the table. The second his blood connects with the metal, a noise like thunder rolls through the Tombs.

  The book opens. The black plates are moved by an invisible hand. When the last page (or plate) is in front of us, it remains still.

  Oz beams at Jade. “You are amazing.”

  She doesn’t gloat at the praise. She shrugs it off. “I just read the book’s energy. That’s all.”

  “Not to be a fun-killer,” Scooby says, eyeing the open page, “but how is this going to do us any good if none of us are fluent in”—he squints, studying the alien symbols that look nothing like hieroglyphs—“godish or what you want to call that language?”

  I bend over the foreign writing. Scooby is right. As long as we can’t decipher it, it’s useless to us.

  Oz touches the plate. He is paler than a ghost. He is no longer the Oz who walked through this door. He’s wearing a crown and a damn loincloth.

  Am I the only one seeing this?

  I scan the others, but they don’t stare at Oz the way I do. They don’t look shocked either. Well, until Oz opens his mouth and reads: “‘Duat, I open up the beautiful West, I make firm the staff of Orion and the Nemes Headdress of Him whose name is hidden. I am the heir of Osiris. I have received his Nemes Headdress in the Duat. Look at me. I open up the beautiful West. Open a path to my soul. Duat, open up.’”

  What happens next causes an uproar in the small chamber. A mist of darkness streams out of the book and spreads slowly, like toxic gas.

  Like a bunch of idiots, we watch in utter disbelief as the darkness slowly swallows us.

  Lakes of Fire

  Chapter 35

  Nisha

  A gray blot unevenly spreads along the horizon, dimming the sun. The Nile is darker, too. Muddy green and brown dominates the river’s surface as we float to our next destination.

  I lean against the rail, struggling to get oxygen in my lungs. The drudgery of the last cavern is still fresh. Loneliness and guilt chews at my heart, eating up what little is left of it.

  Seth, who’s been watching over me like a hawk since he found me at the shore, is staying close. In case I have another nervous breakdown, I assume. Can’t blame him. He had to carry me onto Kherty’s boat. Was determined to calm me down. After countless soothing talks and back rubs, he was at his wit’s end and allowed Ram Man to try his luck. Kherty couldn’t talk me down, either. They came to the conclusion I needed some space and time to come to terms with what had happened in the desert.

  Seth did the Trials so he could be with me. He turned into a monster because I didn’t have the strength to walk away from him. I was selfish enough to encourage a love I knew was against the Ennead’s law. I loved him as much as he loved me, and life without him would have been nothing short of torture.

  It’s my fault, all of it.

  I can see that now. I mean, how could Nebt-Het… how could I ever think it was okay to cheat? The gods created the Trials for a reason. Order and law, that’s what the Ennead is made of, what the world needs to survive. When I put that spell on the amulet, I started a downward spiral that led to chaos. If there’s one thing my mom’s stories, visions, and nightmares have in common, it’s that Seth only turned to the dark side after he survived the Trials and became a god.

  There’s no excuse for what I did. What happened back then, what happened in Shepherdstown, and what happens if I get his immortality back is on me.

  How am I supposed to live with that?

  “Princess?” Kherty approaches me as if I’m a hurt animal about to attack.

  I look up from the water, deliberately avoiding Seth’s fearful gaze. “Yes?”

  Kherty points to the empty seat next to me. “May I?”

  “Sure.” It’s his boat, after all.

  We sit quietly, watching the sun dip into the sand. Night is about to set in. The prospect sends violent shudders through me.

  Kherty’s big eyes roam my face. “May I speak freely, my lady?”

  “Always,” I reply and mean it.

  “Very well, then.” He sighs dramatically. “You must know by now that I am rooting for you?” It’s clearly a question he needs answered, so I nod. “Good.” He pauses. “Then you will forgive me my transgr
ession, aware I have nothing but love and respect for you.”

  What could possibly be so bad Kherty needs to ensure I won’t lose my shit over it? “Please,” I urge him, “be as blunt as you wish.” I highly doubt anything he says could be worse than what I saw and felt in the desert.

  “See, I have traveled the Underworld for as long as it has existed.” His eyes grow distant, as if millennia are unfolding before them, bringing forth memories he’d rather keep locked away. “I have taken millions of souls across the river, so they can be with their loved ones in the afterlife. There is no misery I haven’t born witness to. Every soul has loved, lost, and died, and almost every soul fears the final judgment.”

  “Almost?” I repeat, the emphasis he put on the word not lost on me.

  “In all my time as the ferryman, I only ever met one person who was more concerned with the judgment of his loved one than that of the gods.” Kherty glances at Seth, who’s gazing at the muddy water, lost in misery. “And that fear of disappointing her, along with the things he saw in the desert—where even demons encounter demons—is what drove him over the edge.”

  I’m not sure what he’s trying to say.

  Kherty picks up on my frustration and whispers, “When love destroys you, it can heal you, too. It is like our mighty lord used to say: the power of a heart is endless. It may toss the world into chaos or rebirth it in order. In the end, even the gods can’t stop it, for what lies in a heart is what determines the beginning and the end of every journey.” He pauses. “Yours, too, my princess.”

  What lies in a heart determines the beginning and the end of every journey? Well, what does lie in my heart? Guilt, fear—I think of my friends and family, of Blaze, and my gaze involuntarily moves to Seth—and love. A love that turned a good man into a vengeful god without a conscience. “If that’s true,” I say, my breathing shallow. “We’re all screwed.”

  “On the contrary”—he gets to his feet—“I believe we’re all blessed.”