Book of the Dead (Gods of Egypt 2)

by Nadine Nightingale

  “How dare—”

  “How dare I? Where were you when people died from hunger? When the world went up in flames? When innocent lives were lost in senseless wars and catastrophes?”

  They say nothing.

  Good. I have plenty on my mind I’d like to share. “The world, humanity, needed you. They prayed to you, begged for your help. And what did you do?” I laugh bitterly. “Sit on your golden thrones, acting all righteous, not giving a crap about their needs.”

  Horus’s smile could light the Primeval Waters.

  The pride in Harthors’ eyes enables me to continue.

  “Maybe I did mess up in my past life,” I say steadily, “but I never turned my back on the people who care about me. And you know what? I won’t start now because some gods are spewing hate at me. There’s nothing you can say I haven’t heard before.” I turn to Anubis. “How about we cut the bullshit and get on with my judgment?”

  The ghost of a smile appears on his lips, but as quickly as it came, it’s gone. “So be it.” His staff taps the gold tiles. “Let the judgment of Princess Nebt-Het’s ba commence.”

  Chapter 46

  Nisha

  You can run from your demons. You can run from your fears. You can run from your sins. But sooner or later, judgment will rain down.

  “You must know, Princess,” Anubis addresses me. “Those who seek entrance to the Field of Reeds, right and truth must speak.”

  “I understand.”

  “Your heart will be weighed against the principles of Ma’at,” he continues, as a beautiful, black-haired woman with a white feather on her headdress appears next to him. “If your conscience is clean, you shall be granted passage.” Anubis looks at the monstrous creature taking shape beside the scale. “If not, your ba belongs to Amam.” Amam has the head of a crocodile, the back of a hippopotamus, and the torso of a lion. Talk about freaky mixture.

  Amam the Devourer, Eater of the Dead and Soul Eater, snaps its mouth open, showing razor-sharp teeth in a warning.

  Anubis steps forward. “Princess Nebt-Het, are you ready?”

  To be devoured by a beast? To face the sins I locked away in a box, hoping they never resurfaced? Not by a long shot. But I’ve come this far. I will see it through. “I am.”

  The gods lounge on their thrones. None of them speaks.

  “The princess spoke.” Anubis slams his staff down. “Let the weighing begin.”

  Part of me wonders how exactly how they’re going to do this. Cut my heart out and place it on the scale? Use magic I never believed existed? Or maybe the whole “weighing the heart” thing is a figure of speech, and Ma’at, the pretty woman looking at me like a science project, can see right into my soul?

  Pretty much anything is possible in the Underworld. The hall fills with odd creatures, emerging from thin air. A bird with a human torso appears to the left of the scale. Behind him are a man and woman, looking all grim and serious. Then there’s Toth, the scribe, in front of Amam. I instantly recognize his ibis head from Dad’s books.

  “Step forward, Sister.” Ma’at is soft spoken, and despite her role as judge, she doesn’t pass judgment with her eyes. A bright golden light illuminates the feather on her headdress.

  Everyone is staring at me. Let them gape. Let them be entertained. This isn’t about them. It’s not even about me. It’s about Izzy.

  I rub my sweaty palms across my skirt and do as Ma’at asks.

  She floats toward me like an apparition, her feet never touching the ground. “The feather of Right and Truth.” She pulls it out of her headdress. “Will determine your fate.”

  Out of nowhere, Horus is by my side. “Be warned,” he whispers. “The feather is ruthless. It will rip through your soul, seeking out every dark corner, every secret you’ve ever hidden.”

  Ma’at nods. “Once the feather has touched you, there’ll be no going back. You will be judged for what you did.”

  “In this life and every other before it,” Horus adds. “No one, not me, not even He Who Created All, can change your fate. Do you understand that, Princess?” I don’t know why he cares so much about me, but I can tell he’d rather have me run than face the feather.

  “I understand.”

  The dog-headed ape sitting on the solid stand of the scale shoots me a sad look. Harthor and Horus do, too. I get the feeling they’ve already made their determination.

  “You have heard her,” Anubis says to Ma’at. “Our princess has chosen to continue. So be it.”

  “It will hurt,” Ma’at warns, pressing the glowing feather against my chest.

  Spider legs push through the feather. They dig into my chest, through my skin. The pain is excruciating. It forces me to my knees. Like a million sharp razors, they crawl into my heart, slicing, cutting, hurting.

  The same energy I felt at the Bavarian Inn, the same I felt every time my life was in danger, forms in the pit of my stomach. The flame is trying to rise higher, to fight the invader in my body. But the spider legs drill deeper.

  I feel weaker and weaker, the fire is extinguished, the energy is lost, and my eyelids are too heavy to keep them open.

  Tossed into an ocean of darkness, I hear the cries of every single person to ever die in my proximity. Not just in this life, but in every life. Their screams pierce my brain like a hunting knife, going for the kill.

  I see their families. Thousands of people, mourning their losses. Thousands of people deprived of happiness, a future.

  There’s no point fighting it. The feather has a tight grip around my heart, crushing it a little more with every beat.

  Mom’s eyes flicker across my mind. The fear in them when Mr. Thornton shot her drives me insane.

  Dad smiles at me over the edge of his paper. A gunshot rings through the night. Then there’s blood. I drown in an ocean of blood, the crimson waves crashing over me, pulling me into an abyss of rotten flesh and broken bones.

  I’m back in the desert, marching across the killing field.

  I lie in the Chamber of Eternal Life in Seth’s arms, watching Blaze stab my lover in the back with a poisoned blade.

  I die.

  I’m reborn.

  I bring death and chaos wherever I go.

  I disobey the Ennead, disregard any and all warnings, and eventually return to the moment I take my last breath, the instant Seth tells me he’ll find me again, that he’ll always love me.

  “You feel responsible?” a soft voice whispers.

  “I am responsible,” I admit, hope flying away like a bird at the approach of winter. “I have disobeyed the laws of the universe and others paid the price. I don’t deserve to live. I—”

  My heart, in the grip of Ma’at’s feather, appears before me. “Why are you here?” it asks me. “What is it you seek in the afterlife?”

  I can still see Izzy, banging against the hourglass, scared and alone.

  “Tell me,” my heart continues. “Are you worthy of the afterlife?”

  “No,” I answer truthfully. I was selfish enough to put my love before the greater good. I may not have known what dire consequences there’d be to face, but ignorance is no excuse. “I am not, but Izzy is.”

  “Go on,” my heart, or the feather, or both demand. “Speak your truth.”

  “Nothing could ever justify what I did. And although I never meant any harm, and always followed my heart, I have brought pain and misery to the ones I was meant to protect. I will accept punishment for those sins. I shall not fight the Eater of the Dead when he sinks his shark-like teeth into me, ripping flesh from bone. Let him take my soul and devour it. I deserve it. But…”I fight a fresh burst of tears. “Please save Izzy.” I am no longer begging the feather. I’m pleading with every god willing to listen. “Izzy’s heart is pure. She is kind and loving. Punish me to the full extent of your laws, but keep my cousin safe.” I’m sobbing so hard, I can barely get out the words. “She’s worthy.”

  Silence.

  More silence.

  The feat
her pulls its spider legs out of my heart. The pain and darkness subside. “She is worthy indeed.” The feather speaks softly. “And so are you, Princess.”

  Horus crouches next to me and rests his mighty hand on my back. His lips part, but it’s Ma’at who speaks first. “The feather has passed judgment.” She offers me a warm smile. “Princess Nebt-Het, daughter of Geb and Nut, Goddess of Protection, your heart is as light as a feather, your ba as brilliant as its glow.”

  Horus raises me to my feet. He addresses the gods. “You’ve heard her. Ma’at has judged. Princess Nebt-Het may continue her journey to the Field of Reeds.”

  Despite all the chaos I brought upon this world? Despite all my sins? Despite—

  “Evil lives inside all of us,” Ma’at says. “We cannot erase it, or we would erase goodness, too. You have atoned for your sins. You have taken responsibility for your actions. Therefore, your heart is pure.”

  I’m still shocked when she faces the gods. “Hear my verdict, brothers and sisters. Nebt-Het is free of guilt. She shall move on to the Field of Reeds.”

  Anubis slams his staff onto the ground. The impact rattles the walls. “The judgment was passed. The verdict is irrevocable.”

  Amam snaps his mouth shut, looking annoyed. I guess he was hoping I’d be his next meal. To be honest, I thought I was, too.

  He isn’t the only one disappointed, either. Some of the gods—amongst them Shu, Tefnut, and Temu—are equally mad. Only Harthor and Horus seem relieved.

  “Come, my princess.” Anubis bows to me. “I shall take you to the Hall of Osiris. From there, you may proceed to the Field of Reeds.”

  I’d follow him, but Horus seizes hold of my arm. “Nebt-Het.”

  He has the most stunning blue eye I’ve ever seen. It’s like a million diamonds shine from it, reflecting the endlessness of the sky. “Yes?”

  He closes the gap between us, his breath beating against my ear. “I will never forget what you did for us,” he whispers. “Should you ever find yourself in need of a friend.” He smiles at his falcon, circling above us. “Look up, and you will find me there.”

  A million questions arise. Why doesn’t he hate me? What is he grateful for? Why would he offer me help? And why, for the sake of all things holy, do I get the feeling I will take him up on his offer?

  “Princess,” Anubis roars, impatiently tapping his staff on the floor. “Time is running out. We must go.”

  I hug Horus quickly. “Thank you.” For being kind to me. For treating me with respect. “For everything.”

  He nods, and after I offer Harthor and Ma’at a grateful smile, I follow Anubis to the end of the hall, where another golden door awaits.

  “I have never doubted you, my princess. And when the time comes, know that I will be with you.” He pushes the door open and shoves me through it. “Wait in here. Someone will see to you soon.”

  Osiris’s Throne

  Chapter 47

  Nisha

  A solid gold throne, embodying so much wealth it could feed half the world’s population, is in the center of the square chamber. It’s the same royal seat I saw in that vision, the one where I fought Blaze. Oz, a different version of my childhood friend, was seated on it. From there, he oversaw the fight between the mighty Medjay and Nebt-Het.

  Today, the seat is unoccupied, but I’ve learned the hard way not to expect anything.

  “Someone will see to you,” Anubis said. While I wait, I look around.

  The drawing behind the throne immediately catches my eye. A man, wearing Atef, a white crown with curly red ostrich feathers on each side, lounges on the same throne I’m facing. Behind him, hands held up protectively, are two women. One wears the headdress of a throne, the other a headdress in the shape of a house and basket. The three of them, together, look like a family—an unbreakable unit.

  The longer I stare at the drawing, the more questions bubble to the surface. Where are they now? What happened to them? Why can’t I shake the feeling that I should be able to answer those questions, that I know them better than any painter ever could?

  The door next to the drawing opens. A boy, maybe twelve, strolls in. The instant he sees me, his eyes catch fire. “It’s you! The princess.”

  He’s the first person who seems thrilled to meet me. Why, I can’t tell, but his excitement is contagious.

  I’m almost proud to be me. Then I remember that pride is a dangerous thing. It feeds your ego, blinds you to the truth, and eventually drops you from a skyscraper. “I’m no princess,” I clarify. “My name is Nisha Blake.”

  “I’m Adnan.” He bows. “I shall see you to the Field of Reeds, my princess.”

  I suspect it won’t do any good to correct him again, so I don’t. “That’s very kind of you, Adnan.”

  He flashes me the cutest smile ever and holds the door open for me. “It’ll be my genuine pleasure.”

  That smile, those kind eyes…. I can’t help it. “Do we know each other?”

  “I know you, my princess,” he says, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Anubis told me all about you.”

  I want to know more, but Adnan opens the door. “Please follow me. They’re expecting you.”

  A’aru

  The Field of Reeds

  Chapter 48

  Nisha

  “Welcome to A’aru.” Adnan gestures at the scenery.

  I look, blink. I wipe my eyes.

  It’s still there, the street I learned to ride my bike on. The neighborhood that feared me. I’m home in Shepherdstown, on German Street. Right in front of the house my parents carried me into after I was born.

  “Come.” Adnan jogs toward the porch. “They’re waiting on you, my princess.”

  They? That single word has the power to stop my heart and push it into overdrive at the same time. “Wait.”

  Adnan looks confused. “What is it, my princess?”

  Anxiety chews at my gut like a starving piranha goes after someone who fell off a boat. I can’t tell what’s causing my inner turmoil. Maybe it’s that we’re about to enter the house where my parents were murdered by my history teacher.

  “D-did I… Did I do something wrong?” Adnan stammers.

  I never meant to intimidate the little boy. Don’t ask me how I know this, but that nagging feeling this boy has suffered more than enough doesn’t let go. I get down on my knees, so we’re at eye level. “You didn’t do anything,” I assure him.

  “But you look upset, my princess.”

  “Not with you.” I sigh. “I’m just a little confused. I thought this was the Field of Reeds, but it looks so much like my home, it’s weird.”

  “I understand.” Adnan’s eyes grow distant. They fill with pain and sadness no little boy should know. “When I first got here, I was confused, too. It didn’t look like the Jannah my mom told me about. It looked like my village, long before the Black Flags invaded it.”

  “The Black Flags?” I parrot, images of the Bavarian Inn massacre flooding my mind. “You met them?” I hope he says no, because if he did, his life and death were worse than I initially thought.

  The little boy’s shoulders sink. “One night they came to our village with guns and an insatiable thirst for blood. My sister and I were asleep when they barged into our home, killing my dad and taking Mom and my sister away. I cried for a long time. Then another man—we called him the beast—came for me. He took me to one of the ancient burial grounds, along with all the other boys of my village. We shared the same fate, half-orphaned, with mothers and sisters taken hostages.”

  “Why?”

  Adnan meets my gaze. “We boys were supposed to dig for a golden book. They said it was written by Allah himself.” He pauses. “Many died on the quest. But I… I found the Book of Souls.”

  “And then?” I don’t mean to be nosy. I just can’t seem to help myself.

  He draws a shuddering breath. “And then, Anubis found me. He explained why the Black Flags could never get the book, why I couldn’t leave Nebt-Het’s
chamber alive.”

  My head swims. “I don’t understand. Are you saying that Anubis killed you?”

  “No.” Adnan looks at his wrists, at the faint scars there. “Anubis saved me from the pain those monsters caused me and the destruction that would have followed had they gotten their hands on the book.”

  “What destruction, Adnan? What did Anubis tell you?”

  He’s terrified. “He said you’d have no choice but to do the Trials. That you couldn’t walk away from your fate, and the world would—”

  “That is enough, Adnan.” That voice, that sweet, sweet voice.

  Tears stain my cheeks as I look up. “Mom?”

  “My little princess.” She smiles proudly. “I have missed you so much.”

  I forget everything. There are no Trials, no looming doom, no Underworld. There’s just my mom, standing on our porch, smiling at me.

  I jump to my feet and sprint into her arms. “I missed you, too.” I cry, hugging her so tight, she’s most likely suffocating.

  We stay like this for a long time. She runs her gentle fingers through my hair. I sob like a toddler. Then she steps back. “Come with me, my little princess. There’s not much time left.”

  I barely step inside when my dad throws his arms around me. “Nisha.” He, too, cries. “It’s been so long.”

  “Too long,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around him in a bear hug.

  This is heaven. No questions asked.

  “Nebt-Het,” says a voice like thunder. “We knew you’d be coming home.”

  I look over my dad’s shoulder. A tall, brawny man, with eyes the color of rich earth laced with sparkling brown diamonds, watches me.