The Return of Beaumont and Beasley: The Janus Elixir and The Hound of Duville (Beaumont and Beasley Book 4)

by Kyle Shultz

  “Never criticize a god. Especially one with a giant three-headed dog.”

  “Fair point. And, getting back to my point, I’m not asking you to do anything particularly illegal or disrespectful.”

  “Oh, no?” Hades leaned on his shovel. “Because it sounded like you were asking me to help you break into the Library of Shadows and take a peek at the Book of the Dead.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. “You’re missing the point. I know why people are usually banned from accessing that book. It’s because they’re not supposed to find out in advance when they’re going to die. And believe me, I have absolutely no interest in learning the exact date of my demise—or anyone else’s, for that matter.”

  “Then you’ve lost me,” said Hades, “because I can’t see why else you’d want to see that book.”

  “Because it doesn’t just record deaths, does it?” I crouched down next to the grave and petted Cerberus’ left-most head. “It records lifespans. Including births.”

  “And you want to find out when somebody was born?”

  “Well, it’s a little more complicated than that, but in essence, yes.”

  Hades’ eyes narrowed. “There’s something fishy about all this.”

  “I heartily agree. There’s something fishy about this entire business with Jekyll and Hyde. Which is why I’m trying to clear it up. But I need to see the Book of the Dead in order to do that.”

  “I presume you haven’t forgotten that the Book is guarded by that other god of death,” said Hades. “Anubis. Who is far less sweet and cuddly than I am—and that’s saying a lot.”

  “Yes. I’ve met him before; albeit briefly. And if I had the choice, I’d gladly give him a wide berth for the rest of eternity. But I haven’t got a choice. If I don’t get this information, I might fail to stop something much worse than the theft of a minor god’s brain. Perhaps even worse than all the murders Hyde has committed.”

  Hades gave a long sigh. Then he vaulted out of the grave, leaving Cerberus to go on digging. “Come on. If we’re going to do this, then let’s get it over with.” He pointed to one of the mausoleums. “That tomb there.”

  I squinted at the inscription above the door. “The grave of Mellona, goddess of beekeeping? That’s the gateway to the Library of Shadows?”

  “Anything can be a gateway to the Library of Shadows if I tell it to be,” said Hades. “And don’t knock beekeeping. Or Mellona. She was a sweet woman.”

  “I didn’t say anything,” I insisted. “My respect for beekeepers is unimpeachable.”

  Hades waved his hand. Runes appeared in front of the door and rearranged themselves into a different pattern. Once they faded away, the panel slid back to reveal a long passageway—far too long to actually be contained in the mausoleum. The door had become a portal to another realm.

  “This had better be worth it,” said Hades, as he stepped through.

  I nodded. “I couldn’t agree more. Though if my suspicion proves correct and this trip is worth it, we’re going to have a whole new problem on our hands.”

  Chapter 11

  Keep Out or Be Embalmed

  The Library of Shadows was aptly named. The darkness that bathed the place seemed to be alive, reaching its tendrils into every corner to try to snuff out any possible source of light. The glow from Hades’ eyes and the fireball blazing in my hand were the only things illuminating the path ahead of us. I was unable to make out many details of the place aside from an impossibly high ceiling and towering pillars here and there. There were also arched doorways set into the walls of the vast corridor at regular intervals. Occasionally I thought I saw figures moving in the darkness. I hoped they were merely tricks of the light—because if not, they were very large and had horrible, twisted bodies.

  “They’re not just tricks of the light,” said Hades, as if he had read my mind. “They’re creatures. Inklings, they’re called. Related to other shadow-creatures like Neverwolves and Darklings.”

  The hair on my neck stood up at the mention of Neverwolves. “I take it that means they’re dangerous.”

  “Not as dangerous as their cousins,” said Hades. “Possibly more powerful, actually, but they don’t go after you unless you threaten the security of the Library. Or you’re late returning a book.”

  “Do you suppose they’ll deem us a threat to Library security?”

  “Not so long as we keep our heads down and get in and out of here as quickly as possible.” He pointed to one of the doorways on the right. “Over there. That’s the one we want.”

  I held out my fireball to illuminate it more clearly. “You mean the one that says ‘KEEP OUT OR BE EMBALMED’ in hieroglyphs? Along with detailed diagrams of a traditional embalming ceremony, complete with brain removal?”

  “You were the one who asked to come here.”

  “And I’m not backing out. Just want to make sure I have the right door, that’s all. Come on.” I pushed through the door, and Hades and I stepped inside.

  The room was surprisingly small. It was shaped like a circle, and contained only one book—or rather, a scroll. It was massive, and sat partially unrolled on a pedestal in the center of the room. I released the fireball and allowed it to float up to the ceiling so it would cast enough light for me to read by, then stepped closer to the pedestal and squinted at the hieroglyph-covered papyrus.

  “So, given that this thing is probably even longer on the inside than it looks on the outside, is there any way to quickly navigate to the part of it that we want to read?” I tapped the parchment. “Because this part is about people who lived and died in the fifth century B.E.”

  “I presume you know the name of the person you’re trying to find out about?” said Hades.

  “I do, but am I going to have to sort through other people who have the same name? Not that I suppose there will be many of those, but you never know. In the course of my life, I’ve met no fewer than three people with the name Eustacia Hinklemeyer.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” said Hades. “As long as you have at least part of the name and a clear mental picture of the person in your mind, the scroll will handle the rest. Just concentrate, and say the name.”

  “Right, then.” I took a deep breath. “Dr. Henry Jekyll.”

  Instantly, the scroll sprang to life, the left half unrolling while the right half picked up the slack. At first, I thought it was moving in the wrong direction, until I remembered that hieroglyphs were read from right to left. The later records would be found toward the left end of the scroll. Finally, it stopped moving, and I leaned closer to read it.

  “Henry Jekyll, born 1779 E.A., died—”

  Hades slammed his hand down on the page before I could read further. “That’s enough. No peeking at the future. Did you get what you came for?”

  “Not yet. I need to try one more name.” I closed my eyes, focused, and said, “Hyde.”

  Hades jerked his hand away to avoid a nasty paper cut as the scroll started to spin once more. My skin prickled. The fact that the scroll was moving at all was already a bad sign.

  “Edward Hyde,” I read once it had stopped. “Born June 12, 1788, died—” I caught Hades’ hand in midair before he could cover up the death date. “March 17, 1816.” The color drained from my face. “That’s today.”

  Hades wrenched his arm free and rolled up the scroll. “That was a dirty trick. You said you weren’t going to read any deaths. And besides, what’s the matter?”

  “Don’t you see?” I demanded. “I was wrong. I was stupid; so utterly, completely stupid!”

  “You might want to stop shouting,” Hades murmured, as the shadows around us began to stir.

  “He set a trap, and I fell for it!”

  “Who? Jekyll-slash-Hyde?”

  “No. Just Jekyll.” I began pacing back and forth across the chamber like a caged tiger. “Oh, I thought I was being so clever. I unraveled the mystery; I solved the strange case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. They were the sam
e person all the time! Eureka!”

  “Right, yeah, following you so far,” said Hades.

  “Except they’re not the same person!” Sparks jumped from my lips as I spoke. “They never were!”

  “What?” Hades exclaimed.

  “They were two completely different people all along. Jekyll just wanted to me to think they were the same man. That Hyde was a manifestation of his own latent magical talent. It was all a lie!”

  “But why?” Hades demanded. “What’s he after?”

  A cold hand gripped my heart and squeezed. “Oh, no. He’s after Hyde.” I rushed back to the pedestal. “I need to see one more name.”

  “No.” Hades grabbed my shoulder. “You’re not looking up any more births.”

  “It’s not a birth I want this time. It’s a death.”

  “And you’re definitely not getting any more deaths.” His grip tightened as he tried to drag me away from the pedestal.

  I turned my head, opened my mouth, and shot a blast of flame directly into Hades’ chest. The god grunted, fell backwards, and slid all the way across the floor until his head collided with the wall.

  “I’m sorry,” I told him. “I truly am. But I’ve put her in danger, and I have to make sure she doesn’t die tonight.” I looked down at the scroll. “Melody Nightingale.”

  With a rustle of parchment, the Book of the Dead showed me what I wanted to see.

  It was not at all what I had expected.

  “That’s impossible,” I whispered, staring down at the hieroglyphs in disbelief.

  A hand gripped my arm and pulled me back from the scroll.

  “Yes, yes, fine,” I snapped. “I’m coming, Hades, I’m coming.”

  “I am not Hades.”

  I froze, then turned to look up at the tall figure standing beside me. A man much taller than Hades, bare-chested and dressed in a knee-length linen skirt. His head was that of a jackal, and sleek, jet-black fur covered his body. His lips curled back to reveal razor-sharp teeth.

  “Thieving serpent,” he snarled. “Kneel before Anubis.”

  Chapter 12

  Cerberus to the Rescue

  “I’m sure you’ve heard this from plenty of intruders before,” I said, “but this isn’t nearly as bad as it—”

  With one hand, the jackal-god flung me against the wall. The stone knocked the wind out of my lungs, and I lay there in a bruised, crumpled heap, gasping for breath.

  “Anubis, I can explain,” Hades began, just before Anubis made a quick motion with his hand and sent Hades flying up to the ceiling. The Olympian god slammed into it with considerable force, then fell back to the floor. He did not move again.

  “You have acquired forbidden knowledge,” said Anubis, his booming voice echoing through the chamber. “You will not leave this place with it.”

  I rolled painfully onto all fours and coughed as I tried to breathe. “Look,” I rasped, “what I looked up really wasn’t that important in any big, cosmic sense. I doubt very much that I’m going to be causing any universe-ending paradoxes. So if you’d be decent enough to overlook it just this once, I’d be very grateful.”

  Anubis strode forward, his ears flattened against his skull. “Do not debase yourself by begging for your life, dragon.”

  I clenched my jaw. “I wasn’t begging. I was giving you the opportunity to be gracious about this.” I rose to my feet. “I take it you’re not going to be. In which case, you leave me no choice.”

  Anubis let out a deep, barking laugh. “You threaten me? The humans may be cowed by your fire and claws, but I do not fear them.”

  My mouth quirked into a half-smile. “Well, I’d be a pretty sorry dragon if fire and claws were the only resource at my disposal.” I paced sideways as Anubis and I circled the room, studying each other like predators of the jungle about to strike.

  “Fortunately, I’ve got more than that. Astonishing good looks, in both my human and dragon shapes. A hypnotic Caledonian accent. Unparalleled virtuosity on the violin and the piano. And—this is the important bit—cleverness.”

  “Arrogance,” Anubis snarled.

  “No, not really.” I continued to circle the chamber. “Because I’ve made a terrible mistake that might get someone very close to me killed. So quite frankly, I’m feeling a lot of self-hatred right at this moment. But do you know what else I’m feeling?” I stopped moving and gazed directly into Anubis’ eyes. “I’m feeling that I’m going to get out of here and save Melody Nightingale, even if I have to kill a god of death in order to do it.”

  Anubis snorted. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.” With that, I snapped my fingers, and the fireball I had conjured before was instantly snuffed out, leaving the chamber in total darkness.

  I could hear Anubis’ throaty laughter. “You think shadows can stop me? Fool. I have all the senses of a jackal. I do not require the light.”

  “Very true,” I conceded. “Neither do I, for that matter. Have your eyes adjusted to the dark yet? Mine have. I can see you there, getting ready to spring.” I raised my hand. “And I’m sorry.”

  Anubis tilted his head in curiosity. “For what?”

  “Your headache.”

  “I have no...”

  I snapped my fingers again, and white-hot, impossibly-bright flames exploded throughout the entire room. “You do now.”

  The fire would do nothing to harm Anubis, of course. But, as I had hoped, the light, sound, and smell of it overwhelmed the jackal-god’s senses. He yelped in surprise and anger and clawed at his face.

  I grabbed Hades’ arm. “Come on! Don’t make me carry you, you big oaf!”

  Fortunately, the other god was regaining consciousness. He scrambled unsteadily to his feet and hurried after me as I summoned another fireball to light our way. Anubis’ angry barking and howling grew more distant at first, then began to get closer.

  “He’s following us,” I panted. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any useful godly tricks up your sleeve that could help us deal with him?”

  Hades shook his head. “He’s more powerful than me. That’s why my usual policy is not to sneak into his blasted library!”

  “This is no time to start playing the blame game,” I retorted.

  “We don’t have to play anything! I already know exactly who to blame!”

  “There!” I pointed to a rectangle of light up ahead. “There’s the door!”

  But just then, Anubis bounded past us in a blur of speed and planted himself between us and the door. “You are not going anywhere,” he growled, folding his arms across his massive chest.

  Barking echoed through the hall from outside the door, and Cerberus came bounding into the Library. His six eyes went from Hades to Anubis, and for a moment I thought he was going to attack the jackal-god to defend his own master. Instead, he sat down in front of Anubis, and his third head whined three times.

  Anubis bent closer to him, growled, and barked twice.

  Cerberus’ first head responded with three barks and a yip.

  I leaned over to Hades. “What are they saying?”

  “How am I supposed to know?” Hades replied in an angry whisper. “I don’t speak dog. If Artemis were here—”

  “Your master makes a compelling argument,” said Anubis.

  “But I haven’t said anything,” Hades protested.

  “You misunderstand.” Anubis fixed Hades with his glittering black eyes. “I was speaking to you, and referring to Cerberus.”

  Hades bridled. “What? But he’s not my—oof...”

  I had elbowed him sharply in the ribs. “Just go with it,” I told him through clenched teeth as I smiled at Anubis.

  “He has convinced me to let both of you go...this time,” said Anubis. He pointed an accusing finger at us. “But if either of you ever darken the door of the Library of Shadows again, no plea for mercy shall stay my hand.”

  I guffawed. “That’s be difficult, considering it’s already dark to begin with, but we’ll
do our best.”

  Anubis stepped aside and indicated the door with a sweeping motion of his hand. “Leave, all of you,” he commanded. “And never return.”

  We didn’t have to be told twice. We walked briskly through the door without saying another word. Cerberus bounded after us, and the stone panel slid shut, closing the mausoleum.

  “Oh, what a good boy!” Hades sank to his knees in front of Cerberus. All three of the dog’s heads took turns licking his face. “Good boy, saving Daddy from the flea-bitten jackal-faced old son of a cow goddess!”

  I blinked. “Seriously? I didn’t know that.”

  “Oo’s a goo’ boy?” Hades crooned, as Cerberus flopped over on his back and panted from all his mouths. He tickled the massive dog’s belly. “You are! Yes you are!”

  I cleared my throat loudly. “Well, since you’re busy, I’ll just...”

  Hades shot a glare at me. “Get me into one of your lizard-brained schemes again, and I’ll make you a permanent resident of this Abbey, no matter what the Book of the Dead says about how you meet your end.”

  I nodded. “I understand, and I don’t hold it against you. Also, thanks.”

  Hades’ expression softened slightly. “What are you going to do now?”

  “First, violate the Borogove Accords.” The fires of transformation crackled all around me. “And second, save Melody. By any means necessary.”

  Chapter 13

  You’re Welcome

  I ignored the shouts and screams from the streets below as I soared over Talesend in dragon form. Let the Council send out their loathsome Neverwolves to make everyone think the sight of a mythical creature flying overhead had merely been a trick of the light. I had far more important things on my mind. My dragon eyes had almost completely healed by now, though I still felt a twinge of pain when the sunlight hit them.