Kat Dubois Chronicles

by Lindsey Sparks

  Dazedly, Nik made his way to the table and swung one leg over the nearer bench to sit. He went through the motions of eating—picking up food with his fingers, putting it into his mouth, chewing and swallowing—but didn’t feel like he was actually there doing it. He felt numb to his body’s actions, just doing what had to be done to stay alive.

  Mei shuffled in from outside, though Nik didn’t really notice her until she sat opposite him at the table. Her presence brought Nik back to the here and now.

  He focused on her face, reading the lines of heartbreak and sorrow etched around her eyes and mouth. This was the first time he’d seen her since he’d arrived at the Oasis. The first he’d seen her since Mari’s death. Mei looked how he felt. Worse, maybe.

  She rested her joined hands on the table and sighed heavily. “I’m sorry,” she said, voice hollow. Her eyes met his, but she didn’t seem to be truly looking at him. Her mind was somewhere else. “I wasn’t thinking straight,” she added, “but I had to try. She’s—she was my baby. My little girl.”

  Nik breathed out, his chest tight. Mei had lost the person she loved most in the world, but here she was, apologizing to him. He reached across the table, covering her hands with his. “There’s nothing to forgive.” He gripped her hands tightly. “Mari was brave and noble. She still is.” He laughed sorrowfully. “I’m sure she’s already kicking major ass in Aaru with Kat.”

  A laugh bubbled up from Mei’s chest, and it seemed to surprise her. It stopped almost as soon as it started, but there was a little more life to her honey-brown eyes now. “Yes, I hope you’re right. Those two—” Her lips quivered, and she took a deep, shaky breath. “They’ve always been more like sisters than anything else.” Tears welled in her eyes, and her chin quaked. “It somehow feels right for them to be there together.”

  “Yeah,” Nik said, feeling pulled to the cusp of tears by his daughter’s sorrow. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, it does.”

  Kat

  The trip between universes was just as psychedelic the second time. The portal spat me out near the moon, and I had a few blissful seconds to stare down at my beautiful blue planet, the loveliest sense of peace washing over me. It had worked. I was home.

  And then I was staring down at the earth through a gossamer veil, the vibrant streams of soul-energy flowing past me and the multifaceted voice of the collective a joyous chorus humming all around me. Tendrils uncoiled from the general current of soul-energy, curling around my arms and legs, and as I floated across the streaming energy toward the endless darkness surrounding Aaru, the voices took turns greeting me like a long-lost friend.

  Almost there. Almost . . .

  The soul-energy coalesced into a distinctly feminine form before me, her hands reaching out to grip my arms, holding me in place. Her face solidified into a recognizable shape with achingly familiar features.

  It was my mom. Or, at least, it looked like her. It was just as likely that I was staring down the projection of Isfet; she tended to favor taking on my mom’s shape when communicating with me in Duat.

  “Kat?!” With the way she said my name, both disappointed and angry, there was no mistaking who I was facing—my mom. “What are you doing here?” she demanded. “I told you—you shouldn’t be here!”

  “I know,” I told her, smiling sadly. “I didn’t have a choice, Mom. This was the only way. I have to go into Aaru and find Isfet or we’re all dead—you, me, the soul-energy . . . everything.”

  My mom shook her head, her rainbow brow furrowing. “I don’t understand.”

  I took my mom’s hands in mine. “You were right—Isfet can’t lie.” I gave her hands a squeeze. “The danger that was coming is real . . . and it’s here. We need her, Mom. You have to let me go.”

  Still my mom didn’t look convinced. Leave it to her to try to save her daughter, even if it meant leaving the whole universe to burn.

  “Coming in hot!” a familiar voice called from behind me.

  I barely had time to turn and look before Mari crashed into me like a flaming golden comet. She broke my mom’s hold on me, knocking me free, and we sped toward the precipice of that eternal darkness together.

  “Mars!” I exclaimed, finding her hands. “What are you doing here?” Horror washed over me as I realized there was only one way for her to be in Duat. “You died?”

  She let out a joyous laugh that seemed totally inappropriate. “I couldn’t let you have all the fun!” she said.

  “You’re insane!” I told her, and I couldn’t help but join in her laughter. It was infectious. I couldn’t believe she was there, with me.

  “Maybe,” she said, then shrugged. “Probably. But I’m here, which means you won’t have to do this alone. I’ve got your back . . . just like old times.”

  I did the only thing I could think of doing—I threw my arms around her, hugging her soul for all I was worth. “I’m glad you’re here,” I whispered as we hurtled toward Aaru.

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she said.

  I closed my eyes, revitalized by Mari’s presence, and together, we dove headfirst into Aaru.

  The end

  Thanks for reading! You’ve reached the end of Judgement (Kat Dubois Chronicles, #5). Keep reading for more Kat adventures in Afterlife (Kat Dubois Chronicles, #6).

  Afterlife

  Book Six

  Chapter One

  “What is this stuff?” Mari asked, turning in a slow circle as she scanned the dense, pearlescent mist surrounding us. Her voice punctured the silence, seeming to float along throughout the shimmering mist.

  Mari was no longer the glowing, golden, au naturel version of herself; her soul had reverted to a normal, non-glowing, clothed appearance the moment we broke through the dark shell surrounding Aaru. A quick glance down at myself told me the same had happened to me.

  “I don’t know,” I told her, raising my eyes to continue looking around.

  I’d died a few times before, and one time I’d even made a quick trip into Aaru only to be yanked right back out by Nik, courtesy of our soul bond. I may have been the only being to have ever escaped from this eternal purgatory, but that hardly made me an expert on the place. I mean, I’d only been here for a few seconds.

  “It was like this the last time I was here,” I added unhelpfully.

  “It’s kind of pretty,” Mari said, combing her fingers through the mist, causing it to swirl chaotically.

  “Sure,” I said, glancing at her sidelong. I wasn’t a big fan of being blind, and the mist made it so we couldn’t see more than a few yards in front of us clearly. We were sitting ducks, no clue as to what dangers might be closing in all around us. “And it’s kind of creepy, too.”

  Mari frowned at my comment, then shrugged.

  Deep within the mist, my eyes caught movement. A mere shadow of a person, but undoubtedly human-shaped. Hope made me believe it was Anapa. He’d been thrown into Aaru mere minutes before our entry. He had to be around here somewhere.

  Squinting, I waved a hand out in front of me, trying to move some of the mist out of the way to give myself a better view. But that vague, could-be-Anapa silhouette faded, and just like that, whoever I’d seen deep within the mist was gone.

  “Kat . . .” Mari’s voice was low and filled with warning. “There’s something out there.”

  “I know,” I said, still searching the place where I’d seen the figure. I pointed in that general direction. “I’d swear I just saw someone over there.” I took a step, intending to find whoever I’d seen.

  Mari’s fingers closed around my wrist. “Yeah . . . this is less of a someone and more of a something.” Her tone sent a chill creeping up my spine, and the tiny hairs all over my body stood on end.

  That physiological response struck me as odd, considering I didn’t actually have a physical body anymore—I was a ba, an energy being, now, just like everyone else trapped in Aaru. But the spurt of not-adrenaline making my not-heart pound and setting my not-brain on high alert capt
ured those pesky philosophical thoughts and shoved them away, stuffing them into a corner of my mind for later dissection.

  I turned my head, craning my neck to look past Mari. There was something out there, alright. Emphasis on thing.

  I couldn’t see whatever it was clearly, but the movement was impossible to miss, even through the thick mist. The thing was huge—not quite as tall as me, but spreading out for dozens of feet to either side—and it shifted constantly, slowly darkening and taking on shape as it lumbered closer. Or rather, taking on shapes. It was still little more than a shadow in the mist, but I could see parts of it winding around and through itself, like an enormous mass of slithering snakes.

  “Holy fucking shit,” I breathed, resisting the urge to shimmy in disgust.

  I hadn’t really known what obstacles I would face in Aaru, but giant snake monster definitely hadn’t made the list. As if it wasn’t bad enough that I would be spending the few remaining days I had left as me chasing down Isfet, the very being who—if everything went according to plan—would be the instrument of my own destruction . . . now I had something to run from, too. Fan-fucking-tastic.

  I started backing away, and Mari was more than eager to follow. “What the hell is that thing?” I said, voice barely more than a whisper. I didn’t really expect an answer from Mari, which was probably good, because I didn’t get one.

  A vine-like appendage uncoiled from the mass and slid out ahead of the thing, almost like it was reaching for us. Or exactly like it was reaching for us. It was a dark, tarnished silver, and its movements were so serpentine that it triggered some instinctive response within me. It was only by sheer force of will that I manage to suppress a girly scream.

  “Time to run?” Mari asked, fear raising the pitch of her voice.

  My backward steps transformed into skips as I picked up the pace. “Uh-huh,” I said, my pitch rising to meet hers.

  I turned, reaching back for Mari. The last thing I wanted to happen was for us to get separated. If I lost her in the mist, I feared I might never find her again. My hand fumbled to take hold of hers, but finally, I got a solid grip on her wrist, and together we ran away from that horrifying monstrosity as fast as we could.

  Mari and I ran at full tilt for minutes, legs pumping and lungs burning. The ground was firm but topped with a loose, silty layer, like a hard-packed dirt road. It was almost perfect for speed, but I guessed it would be less awesome for stopping.

  After a while, Mari slowed, dragging behind me. But I wasn’t willing to slow too much, and I pulled her onward. I wanted to get as far away from that thing as possible, as fast as possible.

  “Kat, wait,” Mari said, yanking on my arm for me to stop. “I can’t . . . I can’t breathe.”

  I slowed to a walk, then stopped and turned to face her, breathing hard. I pinched my waist, attempting to ease the exertion-induced ache stabbing into my side.

  Mari was bent over, hands on her knees, practically gasping. “I don’t even . . . have a body,” she said between heaving breaths. “I don’t know why . . . this is so . . . hard for me.”

  I frowned. The dead sprint hadn’t been all that easy for me, either, and once again, my seemingly normal corporeal responses struck me as pretty damn odd, considering I was currently very much incorporeal. We didn’t have physical bodies anymore—they were dead, left behind in the physical realm—so why did we seem to still be constrained by our old bodies’ limitations? It didn’t make any sense. This place didn’t make any sense.

  I shook my head, dismissing the confusing train of thought. Understanding the rules of Aaru wasn’t exactly my biggest priority right now; finding Dom was. If the rest of Aaru was like this—a big misty mess—it could take ages. Tracking him down was the primary objective; without him, I doubted we would ever find Isfet.

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Mars,” I said, scanning the mist for signs of movement. “But we should keep going. That thing—I’m not about to just sit here, waiting for it to catch up to us.” I reached for Mari, taking hold of her elbow, and pulled her into a quick walk.

  I’d taken maybe five steps when a shadowy shape took form in the mist ahead, so faint that I wasn’t entirely certain my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me.

  My heart skipped a beat, and I froze, eyelids opened wide in terror. If that thing had found us again, we would have to run again. I wasn’t sure how much gas Mari had left.

  “What is it?” Mari asked, hand gripping her side and eyes searching the mist. “Do you see something? Is it—is it it?”

  I became utterly still, hardly even breathing. “I don’t know,” I said, voice barely above a whisper. I raised my hand, pointing in the direction of the shadowy spot. It was a little darker now. There was definitely something there. “Over there,” I said.

  I watched, breath held, as the shadow darkened and took on a clearer form. Then I blew out a breath and relaxed a little when it became clear that this shadow was man-shaped, not mass-of-snakes-shaped. I shook my head, laughing under my breath. This place was making me crazy.

  “It looks like a person,” Mari said.

  I nodded. “It could be Anapa,” I told her, not taking my eyes off the dim shape. “Or Dom or Re.” Or any other of the thousands—maybe tens of thousands—of immortal souls inhabiting Aaru.

  The silhouette was growing dimmer now, like whoever was out there was moving away from us.

  “Come on,” I said, once again grabbing Mari’s arm and pulling her into motion.

  We settled into an easy jog, and the shadowed silhouette in the mist steadily sharpened. In a blink, the person became clear enough to identify, and my lips spread into a broad grin.

  “Anapa!” I called out, releasing Mari’s arm as I picked up the pace. “Anapa, wait up!”

  Anapa paused and turned partway, his expression one of utter confusion. “Katarina?” His voice was filled with disbelief. “How—” His brow furrowed, and he shook his head, a delayed grin spreading across his face. “You escaped from the Mother of All? How?”

  I slowed to a walk as I drew nearer. “It’s a long story,” I said, planting myself in front of him, hands resting on my hips. “But now I’m here, which means the plan’s still on. We need to find Isfet so I can take her out of here with me.” I inhaled deeply, determination driving away the fear of what exactly taking Isfet “out of” Aaru entailed—namely, the sacrifice of everything that I was. “The Mother of All is going down.”

  Anapa laughed, still shaking his head. A moment later, his focus shifted past me, and his smile withered.

  Dread knotted in my stomach, and I spun around, eyes widening in horror.

  Mari was still maybe ten yards out, walking toward us. And just beyond her, the snake thing writhed, its shadowy mass closer and clearer than ever. Several silvery tentacles reached out, slithering toward Mari.

  I sucked in a breath. “Mars,” I shouted. “Run!”

  Chapter Two

  Mari froze, eyes rounding. And then she launched into a dead sprint. She didn’t even bother to look behind her to see what was there; my expression must have told her everything she needed to know.

  But she wasn’t fast enough.

  The viny tentacle nearest Mari whipped out, coiling around her ankle and yanking her foot out from under her.

  Mari shrieked as she slammed down face first onto the ground, barely catching herself with her hands.

  I was already running toward her by the time she hit the ground. I could hear Anapa’s heavy footfalls behind me.

  Mari rolled onto her stomach and clawed at the ground, but her fingers didn’t seem to be able to find purchase. The creature dragged her backward, pulling her ever closer to that immense, writhing mass.

  What would happen if she reached it? What would it do to her? The horrifying possibilities spurred me onward, and I ran even faster.

  I closed in on Mari way slower than I would have liked, wishing desperately that I had my sword, Mercy, with me. Not a moment after the thoug
ht entered my mind, I felt the weight of the sword on my back, the gentle constriction of the leather harness wrapped around my ribcage. There hadn’t been any swell of power in my sheut. No sense of the At and anti-At lacing throughout my soul and forming the sword. It was as though my thoughts had brought it into existence; it was suddenly just there.

  I didn’t have time to waste thinking about how my sword had come to be here. I was just grateful to have it with me. Between one step and the next, I reached over my shoulder and drew Mercy, the At blade ringing out as it slid free from the scabbard. The sound echoed all around me, carried off by the mist.

  “Mars!” I yelled, barely a dozen steps away from her. When she looked up at me, I tossed her the sword.

  Mari stopped fighting and twisted onto her back, hand shooting out to snag the sword hilt. She sat up and slashed at the tentacle wrapped around her ankle, severing it in one smooth motion. It whipped about, the severed end oozing a thick amber goo that reminded me of tree sap.

  Mari scrambled backward, using feet, butt, and one hand to get away from the monstrosity while she brandished the sword at its weaving tentacles with her other hand.

  The snakelike appendages closed in on her, hanging just out of reach of the wickedly sharp blade. Each time she threatened one tentacle, another lashed out, only pulling back when she turned her attention to it.

  More tentacles sprouted from the writhing mass, while others grew longer, circling around behind Mari. She wasn’t moving fast enough, and I doubted the sword would hold them at bay for much longer. Soon they would have her surrounded, and then they would strike.

  “Sword, Mars,” I shouted. I was almost to her. “Now!”

  Without even looking, Mari chucked Mercy into the air.