I raced through the crowd, aiming for the blockade that had been set up in preparation for our arrival. I had my eye on a police SUV with garish yellow and blue paint checkering the sides.
Once I reached the car, I leapt onto the hood, the metal crunching under my boots. I climbed up the windshield, using the bar of lights to help pull myself up, then stood and surveyed the sea of people surrounding me. My eyes watered, and the taste of smoke was thick in the air. Hands on my hips and eyes squinting, I scanned the area all around me.
There were so many people. If I was right, if the worst really was yet to come and another bomb went off soon—if it happened in the middle of this immense crowd—the effects would be devastating. So much worse than the destruction at the church.
As my searching gaze swept across a portion of the crowd on the far side of the street, my palm suddenly burned like I’d grabbed a hot iron, and my heart skipped a beat. The universe was telling me that the threat I sensed via the symbol on my palm—likely whoever was responsible for the church bombing—was somewhere in the group of people on the sidewalk across the street.
I honed in on their faces, getting a good look at each and every person. I missed her at first, but a niggling feeling made me do a double take. And sure enough, there among the humans, I spotted a Nejeret. She was a small, nondescript woman with tan skin, dark hair covered by a beige head scarf, and a pinched mouth, wearing a tan trench coat. Her eyes met mine across the crowd, just for a moment, and the searing pain caused by the Eye of Horus inked onto my palm flared hotter.
It was her. The bomber. It had to be.
Target in sight, I crouched down, placing my hand on the edge of the roof of the SUV, and was about to jump down to the street when a horrifying groan rumbled up from the earth. Not a second later, the whole car rattled as the ground shook.
It must have been another explosion, only this time deep underground. Deep under the streets of the city, a warren of ancient catacombs cut through the bedrock. If someone set off a large enough explosion, even twenty yards underground . . .
There was the sound of breaking rock, and the road fractured, a jagged crack running down the center of the cobblestone street, some fifty yards long and widening to several feet across. People screamed and shouted, reaching out for their companions even as those nearest to the crack fell into that growing dark abyss. The crowd went from milling to manic in a matter of seconds.
I watched on in shock, mouth gaping.
More cracks sprouted from that central fissure, and the paving stones on either side crumbled into the opening—as did a few people—giving way to a ravenous sinkhole.
I stood, extending my hands out on either side of me to steady myself as the SUV continued to shake. Nik would’ve been able to fix this in a heartbeat by covering the whole street with a sheet of At. But he was busy on the other side of the palazzo, helping the people trapped in the church.
All the people on this side had was me.
I just hoped I was enough.
Chapter Three
I jumped off the roof of the SUV and dropped down to one knee, bowing down to press both of my hands flat against the paving stones. I squeezed my eyes shut and sent my focus inward, toward my sheut, thinking only about the task at hand. Not about the lives that would be lost if I failed. Not about the sense of dread that even now, after this most recent explosion, continued to mount higher.
All of a sudden, a swell of electric energy flooded into me. I spooled that energy in my sheut just like Nik had taught me to do, building it up until I felt near to bursting. When I had enough to make the magic work, I opened my eyes and willed the energy out of me in the form of At. It spread out from my hands and covered the street like ice over a lake, but so much faster. Ten yards . . . twenty . . . thirty . . . a hundred . . . the earth below continued to break and fall away, but everywhere the At covered it, people would be safe from falling in. I left a meter-wide crack running along the length of the fissure with long, icicle-like strings of At extending deep into the sinkhole for any people who’d fallen in to use to climb back out. If any of them had even survived. It was enough—for now. The crisis was far from averted, and so many more lives were at stake. Too many.
I stood, wiped my hands off on my slacks, and climbed back onto the hood of the SUV. I stood there, scanning the place where I’d last seen the female Nejeret, but nearly a minute had passed since I’d spotted her. A virtual eternity in disaster time. She was nowhere in sight.
“Damn it!” I swore as I jumped down from the SUV.
I dove into the crowd, weaving around people when I could, shoving them out of the way when I couldn’t. I felt like I was playing a life-and-death game of hot or cold, following the burning sensation in my palm and altering my course when the pain abated.
The sense that something terrible was coming increased with each passing second, urging me onward. Now I really did wish Mari was here with me. She’d be able to come up with a fail-proof plan to track down this murderous bitch in a heartbeat, while without my old partner, I was left to fly by the seat of my pants.
I continued to shove my way through the crowd, scanning every face in hopes that it would be the one to set off the symbol on my palm. Hopelessness was just starting to settle in when I caught sight of a beige head scarf, and the pain in my hand suddenly burned hotter. I had a lock on the Nejeret.
I just hoped that by the time I caught up to her, it wasn’t too late.
The pain in my palm seared even hotter, and I took that as a good sign. I was closing in on the mystery Nejeret. She had to at least have been involved with the bombings. Why else would the amulet inked into my skin be leading me to her?
We’d yet to catch a single one of the Senate terrorists riddling the world with mistrust for our kind, but now that I had what had to be one of them in my sights, so to speak, I was determined not to lose her. I would catch this psycho, and the first moment I was able to, I would transport her back to the Heru compound on Bainbridge Island through a gateway, where she would talk. We would make her.
Then, finally, we would have some understanding as to why the Senate was so hell-bent on destroying the human world. Once we knew their genocidal purpose, hopefully then we would be able to stop them. But first, I had to catch this woman.
For a fraction of a second, I caught sight of the Nejeret. She was rounding the block and disappeared behind the corner of a four-story building. I had the briefest glimpse of her before centuries-old weathered stone and orange-brown stucco blocked my view of her.
I kicked it into high gear, pumping my arms and pushing my legs to their limit. I kept myself in good shape, but I was no sprinter, and my heart and lungs strained under the effort to run at full tilt for more than a short burst. It didn’t help that my ballet flats definitely weren’t made for running.
I reached the corner of the block maybe fifteen seconds after my quarry, but I couldn’t pick her out among the rushing streams of people fleeing from the massive sinkhole that had been swallowing up the street just moments ago. The earth still shook as the sinkhole expanded, but the barrier of At would protect everyone from at least that danger.
I slowed to a walk, breathing hard and left hand pinching my side. Eyes searching, I scoured every potential hiding spot on this side of the street. There was a long string of storefronts, each with a recessed alcove for the door into the shop or restaurant. There were any number of places where the Nejeret could have retreated, but there was only one way to find out where.
Cautiously, I made my way up the street, hugging the building’s exterior where a bit of a clearing allowed me to move past the stream of frantic people fleeing the area. There was no sign of the Nejeret, and for a moment, I feared I’d lost her.
But my palm still burned with that telltale warning. I shook out my hand, though it did nothing to ease the pain. Which meant she was close. I hadn’t lost her yet.
“Ah!” a woman shouted as she burst out through the open doorway to
a bakery, beige head scarf falling back from her hair. She rammed into my shoulder, knocking me off balance.
I stumbled to the side, bumped into a passerby, and spun around, only to trip over a folding sign that had been knocked over by the rush of people. I failed to catch myself and went sprawling to the ground. I grunted, my forearm scraping along loose grit and gravel scattered over the smooth At covering the paving stones. The tiny rocks cut deep gouges, lodging into my skin.
Looked like I’d found the Nejeret. Or, rather, she’d found me.
Unlike me, she was able to maintain her footing post-impact. When she saw me falling, she took advantage of the situation, taking off at a dead sprint.
“Oh, hell no,” I said, fumbling with the trick latch on my belt buckle. It was a new belt, a classier, more delicate version that matched my new business-casual public persona, and I’d yet to master the latch.
Finally, I freed the little push dagger hidden in the buckle and rolled onto my knees. I extended one leg, planted my shoe on the ground to give myself a steady base, waited a half of a second for the perfect moment, and flung my hand out toward the Nejeret, releasing the dagger point first. I held my breath as the push dagger flew through a gap between the rushing people.
The knife hit home, burying its two-inch blade in the back of the Nejeret’s thigh.
Her hamstring seized up, and she stumbled forward, tripping over her own feet. She landed on her shoulder on the sidewalk, her long, dark hair cascading over her face. A few of the fleeing people glanced her way, but nobody stopped to check if she was alright. They were too worried about their own lives to concern themselves with the life of a stranger.
I pushed up from the ground and brushed off my hands as I closed in on the Nejeret, my long strides eating the distance between us.
She rolled partway onto her back and pushed herself up onto her elbow. Her other hand slid into the opening of her trench coat.
I was five steps away . . . four . . . three.
She pulled out a Glock from her coat and aimed the gun straight at my face.
I froze, just a couple steps from her.
And, much to my surprise, so did the Nejeret with her gun aimed at me. So did everybody else around me. And not out of fear of the gun.
The world had been muted, and time itself had stopped, holding everyone utterly immobile in that moment between moments.
Everyone but me.
I blinked, breath held. I was afraid to move. I was afraid that doing anything at all would make time restart and leave me with a nice-sized hole in my head. But even as I stood there, frozen by fear, my thoughts were free to spin out of control.
Had I done this? Was this some new manifestation of my powers? Was my unique connection to the universe caused by the threads of At and anti-At marbling my ba and ramping up my magical powers now giving me control over time itself? It wasn’t inconceivable; Netjers, the species mine was partially descended from, had that power. It was the greatest, most terrifying power they had. It was the kind of power that could destroy worlds. Or a whole universe.
Not too long ago, it almost destroyed my universe.
I gulped, suddenly afraid for an entirely new reason. I certainly didn’t want that kind of power.
“Greetings, Katarina,” a familiar voice said from behind me.
I gasped and spun around.
And sure enough, there Anapa stood. The real-life inspiration for the ancient Egyptian god of the dead, Anubis, towered over the crowd of humans-turned-statues surrounding us, his angular, alien features marking him as something not of this world. As something not of this universe.
I was so stunned by his sudden appearance—he certainly knew how to make an impact—that all I could do was stare at him.
Anapa bowed his head in greeting. “I hope you are well.”
I opened my mouth, then shut it again and nodded.
“Apologies for the interruption, but I’m afraid I need you to come with me.”
My eyebrows drew together. “Come with you?” I said, finally finding my voice. “Where?” I frowned. “Why?” I glanced over my shoulder, just to make sure the Nejeret was still frozen.
She was. And her gun was still aimed at me.
I took a quick step to the side, not willing to chance that time wouldn’t restart at any second, allowing her to blow my brains out.
Anapa clasped his hands behind his back. “You must come with me to the Netjer universe,” he said. “To stand trial.”
Chapter Four
“I’m sorry—what?” I stared at Anapa, pretty sure I hadn’t heard him right. He wanted me to come with him to the Netjer universe? To stand trial? Me?
Anapa’s expression gave little away—not that it was ever really easy to pick up on emotional cues from his alien facial features—and his polite blandness made my hackles rise.
I narrowed my eyes, watching him warily.
“You must come with me to the Netjer universe,” he repeated. “There is no time to waste.”
Utterly stumped, I watched him walk over to the bakery and press his hand against the stone wall to the left of the display window. When he pulled his hand away, a silvery disk the size of a poker chip remained stuck to the wall.
“What are you . . .” My words trailed off as the disk began to spin seemingly all on its own.
Anapa stepped away from the wall and headed back toward me.
But I couldn’t tear my eyes from the disk and what it was doing to the building’s exterior wall. The weathered gray stones shifted unnaturally around the disk, slowly swirling like they were being melted and stirred from that central point outward, turning that part of the wall into a gravity-defying whirlpool. It made a sound like wind rushing through the trees near a raging waterfall.
That gray vortex grew with each rotation of the disk until it was as tall as the door to the bakery and just as wide as it was tall. I couldn’t see what lay beyond the surface, but I was pretty sure I was staring at a portal to another universe.
Anapa held his hand out to me. “Come, Katarina,” he said, like I was his obedient dog.
I took a small backward step, then another, startling when I bumped into one of the thousands of frozen-in-time people littering the street and sidewalk. I shook my head. “I can’t leave,” I told Anapa as I sidestepped around the human statue. “I have a shit-ton of things to do here—right now.” I glanced at the Nejeret with the gun, my soon-to-be captive. She was one of those things on my to-do list, and I wasn’t about to risk losing such a valuable prisoner.
Anapa clasped his hands together behind his back once more, the corners of his mouth turning down the slightest bit. That minute but monumental change in his expression gave me hope that my words were getting through to him. Might as well keep at it, then.
I pointed to the Nejeret. “Do you have any idea what capturing this chick would mean for my people—for the whole world?” I lowered my arm. “It would be a huge win, not to mention a chance to stop whatever else she might have planned today. Two bombs have already gone off. Who’s to say she’s not about to detonate a dozen more?”
“She is not,” Anapa said.
I blinked, drawing back in surprise and bumping into another frozen person. “You don’t know that.”
“I do, in fact,” Anapa said. And before I could argue further, he added, “I already disarmed all of the explosives set to detonate in this city today.”
I sputtered, unable to form a response.
Anapa was always making excuses about not being able to interfere with the goings-on of this universe—it was always observe, learn, and decide with him—but now he doesn’t bat an eye at altering the natural course of events and saving gods knew how many lives by singlehandedly putting an end to one of the Senate’s terrorist attacks. What was even more irritating was the fact that he’d just left the first two bombs to go off as planned. There was no saying how high the body count already was, but I wasn’t holding out hopes for a single-digit number.<
br />
My hands balled into fists, and my jaw clenched as I struggled with that rapidly expanding irritation. “That’s just a tad hypocritical, don’t you think?” I finally managed to say. Maybe I should’ve thanked him instead of chastising him, but come on—how many times had I asked for his help in the past only to be turned down by his boilerplate it’s-against-the-rules response? A few times. Too many.
“Perhaps,” Anapa said.
My lip curled in distaste, and I crossed my arms over my chest. Smug might have been an ugly look for me, but gods, it felt good.
“However,” Anapa continued, “my interference was necessary. You would not have agreed to come with me if the people of this city were still at risk, and your willing participation in this matter is essential.”
I pressed my lips together, processing his words. If he’d broken the rules he seemed to hold in such high regard—and in such a big way—just to get me to come with him, then this trial thing had to be a pretty goddamn big deal.
“Katarina, please,” Anapa said, taking a step toward me and extending one hand like some old-timey gentleman. “Come with me. The fate of this universe depends on your cooperation.”
I rolled my eyes and let out a none-too-gentle snort. “Like I haven’t heard that before,” I said. But even through my attempt at making light of the situation, my stomach twisted into knots.
A moment later, I realized that the sense of dread—the anticipation of a fast-approaching shitstorm—had vanished the second that disk started to spin. My heart plummeted. There wasn’t a threat on the horizon any longer.
Because it was here.
Where the dread had been, there was now only heart-pounding fear. This was it: the portal, or the trip to the Netjer universe, was what I’d been so worried about. I just hadn’t known it until now.
Kat Dubois Chronicles Page 78
