Time froze, and in that moment between moments, I held the fate of the universe in the palm of my hand.
I was suddenly terrifyingly aware that I could end everything right now. I could close my fingers around the seed and squeeze until I crushed it, snuffing out this universe in the blink of an eye. I could end all of the pain and suffering. I could end the Mother of All, once and for all, and the only thing I would have to do would be to squeeze. It would be so easy.
Or, I could take the seed into myself and become a strange, hybrid creature—something more unnatural than even me. I could have the power to direct creation, and with that power, I would have the ability—the need—to feed off of the vital energy intrinsic to every universe. I would become a true abomination. A monster. I would become exactly the same as the Mother of All.
Carefully—more carefully than I’d ever done anything in my entire life—I curled my fingers around the seed of the universe. I forced threads of At and anti-At to sprout from my palm, weaving around and around the seed, seeking the invisible tie to the first universe.
The seedling quivered as the threads of At and anti-At tightened around it. There was a chance that the seedling wasn’t strong enough to sustain this universe on its own yet. There was a chance that cutting us loose would usher in the beginning of the end. It was a chance I had to take.
A shock wave vibrated up my arm suddenly, and I knew I’d found it. The cord. The stem. The one and only tie between this universe and all others.
I wrapped the threads of At and anti-At around the stem, tighter and tighter, until it snapped clean off.
All around me, the entire universe shuddered.
I’d saved us all. Or killed us.
And at the moment, I didn’t know which.
Chapter Thirty-Five
For long seconds—a near eternity—the universe teetered on the precipice of destruction.
I held my breath, stare locked on the tiny bronze seedling.
It wilted a little, drooping to the side, and I thought I had my answer. In my attempt to save the universe, I’d destroyed it instead. In the end, I was no better than the Mother of All.
But then the seedling perked up, the bronze brightening to a shimmering platinum, and two miniature golden leaves sprouted from the tip.
My eyes widened. Slowly, carefully, I uncurled my fingers from around the seed, afraid any sudden movement would disturb the seedling.
Once I’d released the seed entirely, I pulled my hand out from the mass of roots that was Iusaset, my stare never leaving the seedling. Tears of wonder turned my vision glassy.
I hadn’t killed us after all. Moreover, there was a chance I’d just saved us.
“Thank you,” I whispered to Iusaset as I watched the roots close up, concealing the seed once more.
Within me, I could feel Nik, a warm bundle of love and pride. We’d done it. We’d cut the Mother of All off from her near-endless power source. We’d done the one thing that could turn this fight in our favor—we’d evened out the playing field. We’d bought Isfet a chance to destroy the gods-damned Mother of All.
I felt a surge of joy that verged on giddiness as I floated away from Iusaset and the seedling it was nourishing in the heart of the universe. I was desperate to get back to the Oasis as quickly as possible to see how Isfet was faring now that the Mother of All was limited only to the energy stored up within her. I raced back to earth a million times faster than light speed, turning the stars rushing past me into an endless wall of silver, only slowing when I sensed the sun.
I hurtled past the sun and Mercury and slowed to a safer speed once I reached the moon. I hovered at the edge of the earth’s atmosphere as I orbited the planet in search of northern Africa. It only took a moment to find.
As I drifted through the earth’s atmosphere, I honed in on the Sahara and the Nejeret Oasis deep in the heart of the desert. In seconds, I could see my people, a gently glowing golden mass, and knew I was close.
My heart rate picked up as I took my first lungful of air in minutes. The closer I drew to the ground, the clearer individual figures became. I searched the dunes around the Oasis for Isfet and the Mother of All, but I couldn’t find them.
And then I heard the scream, and I knew I was looking in the wrong place. They weren’t out in the desert any longer; they’d moved into the Oasis.
I spotted them on the apex of one of the At bridges arching over the canal that bisected the Oasis, and I sucked in a horrified breath.
Isfet was on her knees, and once again, the Mother of All had her fingers wrapped around Isfet’s neck. The burning crimson glow was brighter than before, and the inky fissures in Isfet’s skin had spread out over nearly all of her.
The Mother of All was seconds from killing Isfet.
I didn’t hesitate for a moment; I dropped straight down into the Oasis, aiming directly for the Mother of All. I slammed into her, breaking her hold on Isfet and ramming her into the bridge. Cracks spread out through the unbreakable material, fanning out around the Mother of All.
She blinked and shook her head, dazed by the impact.
I took advantage of the Mother of All’s momentary disorientation and leapt off of her.
And dove straight into Isfet.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Touching the seed of the universe had charged me up, and I was overflowing with more raw, universal energy than I knew what to do with. But I didn’t need to know what to do with it, not so long as Isfet did.
I settled into her, and it was unlike anything I could have imagined. Nik’s ba peeled away from mine and faded into the background. I could still sense him, but we were no longer merged. No longer one.
And I could sense others—Mei, Joju, Lex, and Heru, along with a few souls I hadn’t expected. Anapa and Re were here, within Isfet, feeding her their intrinsic Netjer energy, and the twins were here, too.
But it wasn’t enough. If the Mother of All managed to capture Isfet in her death grip again, if she held on for even a few seconds, it would all be over. Isfet would be obliterated, and all of us with her.
Much to my surprise, I didn’t fade into the background with the others. Rather, I merged with Isfet, my fingers sliding into hers like slipping on a pair of gloves, my feet settling on the At bridge within hers, my mind—my thoughts—merging with hers, much as Nik’s had merged with mine not long ago. Isfet and I shared a connection she didn’t have with any of the others. It was like the threads of At and anti-At lacing my ba had formed a link between Isfet and me that was very similar to a soul bond.
It took only a fraction of a second, and I was suddenly looking out at the world through Isfet’s eyes. And I saw the most unexpected thing: me.
My body still stood before Isfet, but the brown eyes were devoid of life, the facial features slack. I watched, stunned as I—my body—collapsed onto the bridge. Without my ba, there was no reason for it to keep on living. It was a discarded shell, empty of life just like the thousands of other Nejeret bodies littering the Oasis. It was, once again—and probably for good, this time—dead.
I didn’t have long to gawk, and I wasn’t in control of Isfet’s movements, let alone where she looked. And right now, she looked away from my body and straight at the Mother of All.
The Mother was climbing to her feet, a diamond-encrusted hand on the railing. Behind her, golden Nejerets gathered near the edge of the bridge, Dom at the forefront.
I wondered if the Mother of All realized what I’d done yet. Did she know I’d cut off her near-endless power source?
The moment her sapphire eyes met mine—met Isfet’s—and I saw the outrage glinting in those gemstone depths, I had my answer. She definitely knew what I’d done, and she was not happy about it.
Had I been in control of Isfet’s feet at that moment, I probably would have retreated a couple steps, pushed back by the avalanche of hatred pouring off the Mother of All. But I wasn’t in charge; Isfet was. And she wasn’t about to back down. She stood her ground,
despite her fear of the Mother of All, impressing the hell out of me.
The Mother of All slashed a hand through the air to one side of her, tearing a hole in reality. Through the jagged gap, I could see the rainbow flow of soul-energy in Duat.
Before Isfet could even think about sealing the hole shut, the Mother sucked in a thick stream of soul-energy. I could practically see it reviving her, strengthening her.
Isfet waved her open hand out in front of her—of us—sharply, and the interdimensional tear sealed like it was being zipped up. In Isfet’s thoughts, I could sense that she was preparing to do the same to any other tear the Mother of All made the very instant she made it.
The Mother of All sneered and slid one of her feet back, falling into a common fighting position. “No matter,” she said, voice snide. “I got what I needed . . . for now.”
She held her hands out before her, and a long staff formed out of At in her grip. She ran one hand along the entire length of the staff, and in her fingers’ wake, icy flames sprouted all along the otherworldly weapon.
Through Isfet, I knew that if those flames touched her—touched us—she would be engulfed. We would be engulfed. And not even the vital energy stored in the seed of the universe would be able to save us from the Mother’s fire.
“This won’t take long, daughter,” the Mother said. “And once I have disposed of you, I shall rebuild my empire from here.” She started to spin the staff, and I was surprised to see that she appeared to know how to use it.
Panic surged within Isfet. She’d been prepared to battle the Mother of All using energy. Using the raw universal power that sustained her. But she hadn’t been prepared to fight like mortals. And worse yet, due to her extremely sheltered existence, Isfet had no idea how to fight like a mortal.
“You should be proud,” the Mother of All said. “You will have achieved what you always wanted: eternal protection for this”—her lip curled—“this cesspool. I will transform this universe into a thriving hub and use it to create more universes. In time, I will be more powerful than ever before.” She advanced on Isfet. “Pity you won’t be around to see it happen.”
With each step the Mother of All took toward us, Isfet backed up. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t think she could win this, because she wasn’t a fighter.
Lucky for her, I was. This was another of those moments that made me think that maybe, just maybe, destiny was a real thing. What were the odds that I would be an expert in the one skill category where Isfet was so severely lacking? Was it another coincidence? Or was it fate?
Did it even matter? Not really. Not right now.
“Let me take over,” I thought at Isfet.
She seemed surprised at first, her eyes opening even wider. She’d known I was in there, but based on her shock, she hadn’t noticed just how there I really was. Front and center, best seat in the joint.
She handed me the reins as she retreated, taking the backseat. I was suddenly fully in control of her body. And oh gods, the power. The torrent of energy she could wield dwarfed my abilities. No wonder I hadn’t been able to hold off the Mother of All for long on my own.
Thankfully, I wasn’t on my own anymore. I was no longer just me; I was us—both Isfet and myself, as well as Nik and the others. I was all of us. And I was powerful as fuck.
The Mother of All faltered, pausing her approach as her eyes widened.
I wondered what she saw, how she knew that something had changed within Isfet. Maybe it was her eye color, like with Nik when he was actively possessed by Re or vice versa. Maybe the set of Isfet’s features changed, conforming to mine. I doubted I would ever know, and I supposed that, like so many other things, it didn’t really matter. I had more important things to worry about.
Specifically, I had a god to kill.
Eyes locked with the Mother of All’s, I stood straighter, halting my retreat. With a single thought, a sword appeared in my hand.
It was an exact replica of Mercy, only this sword burned with the flames of a thousand—million—billion—colors. This sword was alive, its flames fueled by the infinite myriad of souls that made up the energy flowing through Duat. Because unlike the Mother of All, Isfet didn’t need to tear a hole in reality to draw on the soul-energy. She was the heart and soul of this universe, and as such, she had free access to the soul-energy. And the soul-energy was more than willing to help her.
I raised my flaming sword and settled into a fighting stance, no flourishes and no frills. I was more than ready to end this, one way or the other, once and for all. Breathing deep and even, I took a step toward the Mother of All.
She stepped back, seeming to do so unintentionally. It probably had something to do with the fact that the flames dancing along Mercy’s blade were just as deadly to the Mother of All as her flaming staff would be to us.
Eyes locked with the Mother’s, I stretched my neck first to one side, then to the other. I took another step toward her, and she backed away again. The corner of my mouth lifted.
Fear flashed through the Mother of All’s sapphire eyes, and her diamond features hardened into a grim expression. And then she disappeared in a flash of blinding white light.
“Shit,” I hissed, spinning around and around, trying to look everywhere at once.
She was going to sneak up on me, that much was certain. But when? Where?
I scanned the crowd of Nejerets, knowing full well that the Mother of All wouldn’t appear somewhere expected. And she certainly wouldn’t appear where I was looking. Knowing her, she would appear right behind me and strike before I’d even had a chance to realize she was there.
In my thoughts, I could hear Isfet screaming for me to hand the reins back over to her. She was in a full-blown panic, and all she wanted to do now was run. Her sole purpose in existing was to protect this universe, and in her mind, if she stuck around here, she would be facing certain death. It was as good as handing the universe over to the Mother of All.
But running wouldn’t do us any good. The Mother of All would find us, in time. And when she found us, she would end us. We couldn’t afford to flee; we had to stand and fight. If we died, so be it; at least we would have given it our all.
I took a deep breath and shut Isfet’s mental voice out. In her current, panicked state, she was a distraction, and I needed to concentrate.
I stopped scanning the crowd and looked at Dom. He was standing at the edge of the bridge, his focus razor sharp. He nodded infinitesimally, and it took me a heartbeat to puzzle out what he was trying to tell me with that single gesture.
He would be my eyes. He would look where I couldn’t. All I had to do was trust him.
I exhaled a shaky breath, then stood up straighter and returned Dom’s nod. The Mother of All wouldn’t expect me to be relying on another’s eyes. She didn’t understand what it meant to trust someone.
I flipped Mercy in my grasp so the tip of the blade was pointed down at the bridge, my eyes never leaving Dom’s. My breaths became long and even, and my heartbeat slowed. My hair rustled in the cool night wind, stray strands tickling my neck and cheeks.
Seconds turned to minutes, and still I stared at Dom, barely daring to blink.
In a flash, his eyes shifted to focus on something beyond my left shoulder.
At that exact second—that exact instant—I flicked my sword blade up between my left arm and my waist and thrust Mercy back as hard and as fast as I could. The flames dancing along the blade licked at my skin, but they didn’t burn me, because the soul-energy didn’t want them to.
When Mercy’s blade met resistance, I gritted my teeth and pushed harder, cutting through the Mother of All’s diamond skin until the resistance was gone. The blade had broken through to the other side of the Mother’s body.
Isfet’s need to flee became overpowering, and she wrested control from me. We stumbled forward until she tripped on a crack in the bridge and sprawled out on her hands and knees. Her fall gave me a tiny window of opportunity, and I took co
ntrol back.
I scrambled to my feet and spun around. I needed to see . . . to know. Was it over? Was it finally over?
The Mother of All stood near the far end of the bridge, Mercy protruding from her middle. She stared down at the sword skewering her body, paralyzed by shock.
I stood frozen in place. The flames dancing along the blade didn’t seem to be doing anything to her. That couldn’t be right. They should have been burning her. Consuming her. Destroying her.
But so far as I could tell, they weren’t doing a damn thing.
Until the Mother of All lifted her head, and I could see the rainbow luminescence of burning soul-energy drowning out the usual blue of her eyes. It was burning her up from the inside out. From the soul out.
The Mother of All sucked in a breath, and the scream she let out on her exhale would haunt me for the rest of my existence.
It was the sound of a god dying.
And it almost—almost—made me feel bad for her. Almost.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The Mother of All burned for days.
Three times, the sun rose and fell, and Nejerets moved around throughout the Oasis, cleaning up after the destruction caused by both the Netjers and the Mother of All and clearing out the bodies—mine included. They set up a massive pyre, and the column of smoke that reached high into the sky was nearly as dark as the shell surrounding Aaru had been.
And the whole time, Isfet—and all of us within Isfet—stood at the foot of the bridge and watched the Mother of All burn. Isfet wasn’t willing to look away until the last embers had died out and ashed away. I didn’t mind one bit.
When the sliver of a moon rose on the fourth night, the last remnants of the Mother of All blew away in the desert breeze. She was gone. Finally. Forever.
“There’s something I want to show you,” Isfet said, speaking aloud, but I could sense that her words were aimed at me.
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