Owl and the City of Angels

by Kristi Charish

  Out of all the moments in the last couple hours, Rynn picked that one to snake his arm around my waist and kiss me. Not our usual “there were people around” version but the kind he usually saved for behind closed doors . . . or if there isn’t anyone around we particularly care about seeing us. That’s happened a couple times . . . and no, I’m not the instigator, Rynn is . . . not that I’m complaining.

  This was definitely one of those. In fact, it caught me so off guard I opened my eyes partway through.

  Rynn’s arms might have been wrapped around me and his face might have been pressed against mine, but he sure as hell wasn’t watching me. He was looking at the damn elf, and not nicely. I caught Carpe glance away as soon as he saw me look.

  Oh for Christ’s sake . . . I pushed Rynn away, breaking off our kiss. “Seriously?” I said, nodding towards Carpe.

  Rynn shrugged but didn’t offer up any defense.

  Yeah, not getting off that easy. “Out of all the nymphs and attractive bartenders hanging around the Japanese Circus, you’re jealous over the damn elf? Seriously, are you sure I’m the only one hallucinating?”

  He shrugged, but there was a ghost of a smile on his face. “The bartenders work for me and you don’t like the nymphs. You talk to the elf on a daily basis.”

  “No, I talk to you and Nadya on a daily basis. I play World Quest with Carpe, and it’s a couple times a week, not every day. And he crashed our plane and is holding my map hostage!”

  Rynn wasn’t fazed one damn bit. His smile widened as he waved at Carpe, who glanced back down at his screen, though I could have sworn his face was red. “Besides,” Rynn added, “I really hate elves.”

  I shook my head and grabbed Captain, encouraging him into the backpack. “I’m not even going to dignify that one.” I grabbed the rope and followed Nadya down to the bank.

  Rynn jealous over the backstabbing elf—who I was tempted to punch. Again. I mean, Carpe wasn’t horrible to look at—in a kind of yoga-retreat way. He was slighter than Rynn, which made sense, with the perma-computer chair and vegetarianism—not that Rynn was a super athlete or anything . . .

  Jesus, what was I doing, comparing Rynn and Carpe?

  “What was that about?” Nadya asked once I touched down on the bank.

  “Nothing, except I think the curse is rubbing off on Rynn. He’s ­jealous—of Carpe.”

  Nadya didn’t say anything, instead becoming engrossed in the inflation of the yellow raft.

  “Seriously? Not you too.”

  Nadya shrugged. “Well, you do spend a lot of time on World Quest.”

  “And in the bar, and on dig sites.”

  “Not the same thing, and you know it.”

  I snorted. Rynn worried about Carpe. If it wasn’t for the fact that I didn’t have a headache, I’d be willing to bet I’d hallucinated it. I hunkered down with Nadya and Captain to wait for nightfall and our signal to cross.

  Well, considering the IAA in the tower hadn’t spotted us yet, maybe our luck was on the up. On a lark, I checked Hermes’s card to see if the message had changed.

  Don’t hold your breath.

  I shoved it back in my pocket. Great, just fucking fantastic . . .

  The nice thing about the desert is it gets dark fast. With only the artificial light from the IAA tower, the stars were out and bright. I like looking at stars. I don’t get the chance in Las Vegas and Seattle with the city lights.

  On a positive note, the night had cooled down, but my fever was running hot again.

  “It is dark enough to go now, no?” Nadya whispered beside me.

  “Have to wait for Rynn’s signal. Does us no good to get across and have the IAA waiting for us with guns when we stroll out,” I said, and added, “though it’d sure be nice if he’d hurry up on that.”

  “I heard that,” Rynn said into my headset. “Take a look over at the tower, carefully. They watch that river for boats.”

  “Don’t get spotted, we got it the first time.” I rolled onto my back and edged out from underneath our hiding spot—a river-worn stone ledge. I focused my goggles until I could see the tower and its front door. “All right, I see the tower.”

  “Now watch the door. There will be guards entering the lighthouse any minute.”

  Like clockwork, I watched as the two guards did indeed round the tower and enter through the front entrance.

  “They’re in,” I said.

  “That’s the guard change—there should be two coming out any minute. Once that happens, go. I can drop the infrared camera and give you about twenty minutes without raising any major alarms.”

  “How the hell do you plan on doing that?” The IAA was notorious about sounding alarms for next to nothing.

  “Easy, the generator is outside. I’ll run a power surge through it—out here, with the temperature fluctuation, a blown fuse isn’t far-fetched.”

  “Rynn, I hate being the voice of reason here, but depending on the IAA not to act—”

  “Will work because I’m watching the tower and the elf is tracking their communications.”

  “I thought Carpe was breaking into World Quest.”

  “With proper motivation, the elf can do two things at once,” he said.

  I decided not to ask what motivation Rynn used. Still pissed about Carpe hijacking and crashing our cargo plane . . .

  The door to the tower opened and two guards walked out.

  “Rynn, they’re out.”

  “Go.”

  Nadya and I shoved the dinghy into the river and leapt on board. I winced as the boat splashed into the water—more noise than I would have liked. The boat started floating downstream, and I kept my eyes on the tower to see if we’d been seen . . . nothing except the flicker of flashlights and the tower disappearing from my immediate sight . . . come to think of it, we were leaving the tower behind awful fast.

  Shit, we were being dragged downstream.

  Nadya swore and tossed me a paddle. “Go, before they get back online.”

  We’d figured that between the two of us, it’d take ten minutes to get across, leaving five to ten to stow the bright yellow boat and make it inside. We hadn’t taken into account battling the current.

  I started paddling. Captain, figuring there was now water involved, bellowed from inside my bag to be let out. “No, your claws will puncture the boat—then you’ll really be wet . . . ow!” I tried to dislodge Captain as his claws sunk through the canvas into my back.

  “Keep paddling,” Nadya said. “We’re veering to the left, and the current is dragging us off target.”

  I swore and got my paddle back in the water, fighting the current as Captain the wonder cat found new ways to torture my back.

  The sound of sand scraping against the rubber raft told us we’d made it. We both leapt out of the boat and dragged it onshore. I got my backpack off.

  “How much time?” I said, out of breath . . . we had to have four or five minutes left, right?

  “You’ve got three,” Rynn replied.

  “Shit—” Not only did we have to run back to the entrance, which we hadn’t planned on, but we also had to hide the damn boat and paddles first. Tying it up wasn’t an option. They’d see it once they got the cameras back on. Letting it float upstream was tempting, but I wasn’t willing to test that current or swim across with Captain puncturing my head. I pulled the air tube and started compressing like mad.

  “Up there,” Nadya hissed, pointing to another sandstone ledge. I tossed her the paddles while I pushed the rest of the air out.

  “You’ve got two minutes left, move.”

  Damn it, why won’t air pockets leave? Oh hell, it was good enough. I rolled the dinghy up as best I could.

  “Alix, the boat!”

  I tossed the deflated raft to Nadya, who shoved it deep into a ledge.

 
; “Time?” I said to Rynn.

  “A minute. And you need to run.”

  Damn it . . . “Come on,” I said to Nadya, and scrambled up the ledge. A head rush hit me as I pulled myself up—but if it was the curse or the exertion I didn’t have time to sit back and contemplate.

  Nadya scrambled up ahead of me and broke into a dead run for the entrance.

  I swore and took off after her, forcing my legs to keep up with ­Nadya’s longer stride.

  “Run faster, Alix.”

  “I hate running,” I said.

  “Don’t care, and it’s thirty seconds now,” came Rynn’s voice.

  I let Captain out of my backpack. “Work off those cat treats,” I told him, and kept running.

  Nadya reached the entrance first and slid behind the recessed rock wall ahead of me. With my goggles I could just make out the entrance/optical illusion.

  I grabbed Captain by the harness before he could overshoot and pulled him in after me.

  I collapsed against the wall beside Nadya. “Let’s not do that again,” I managed to squeeze out between breaths.

  “Do not say that, you will jinx it,” she said.

  While the two of us recouped, I flipped on my flashlight and started to look around.

  What had been absent in decoration outside Passer’s temple was made up twofold inside. Like the river temple entrances, this one was lined with statues of the Egyptian pantheon, but it distinguished itself with a more cavernous room. If this hall was any indication, the entire complex had been built as if someone really did intend to spend a few thousand years living here. I couldn’t tell for sure with my flashlight, but if I had to guess, I’d say the hieroglyph reliefs beat the river temples in number and intricacy as well. “You seeing what I’m seeing, Nadya?”

  She nodded, taking in the expansiveness the same way I was. “The outside might not be much, but this puts the Ramses and Nefertari river temples to shame.”

  Carefully, using the map as a guide, we headed into the next chamber. My flashlight showed this one had the same high ceilings as the first, but it stretched out into the cliff side farther than my flashlight beam reached. Statues of the Egyptian pantheon had been used to shore up the ceiling, in lieu of more traditional pillars with hieroglyphs.

  I wondered how much of Ramses and Nefertari’s budget had been diverted Passer’s way.

  “Main chamber,” Nadya said, glancing down at my map.

  The map showed four exits from this room. The one at the back led to the burial room—where all the treasure was—and the left and right ones led to the living quarters and workroom, respectively. All the traps listed on the map were on the way to the burial chamber—no big surprise there. We’d try the workroom first, then treasure and burial rooms, then the living quarters. “Hopefully Passer follows the designed living layout and we find the book in the workroom minus him,” I said.

  Nadya snorted but didn’t argue the search plan. Captain stayed close. When there aren’t any vampires, he’s a surprisingly attentive cat.

  Flashlights out, we wound our way through the pillars. I counted the gods I recognized off the top of my head: Horus, Anubis, Aken, Ammit, Osiris, Nebthet . . . “Every Egyptian god of the underworld is on display,” I said to Nadya.

  My earpiece clicked as someone switched the line on. “Passer was known for his obsession with the underworld—particularly the goddess Ammit,” came Carpe, of all people.

  Ammit was the crocodile-headed god of the underworld. No hell for those judged unworthy, just the eating and vanquishing of the soul. I did not need to know about Passer’s obsession with the soul-eating crocodile goddess right now, thank you very much. “Not helping,” I said, wondering how he’d gotten online. Must have switched to line two by accident. I went to switch back to line one, only to find it was already on line one.

  “I thought you two were discussing Egyptian gods,” he replied.

  “Carpe, what the hell are you doing on Rynn’s line?”

  “It’s quiet out here and I wanted to see what was going on. I thought I could help.”

  Oh for Christ’s . . .

  “This is not one of Alix’s video games,” Nadya said.

  “Yet I’m the one who knew about the crocodile goddess. And I call bullshit about relevancy, Alix. The obsession is totally relevant and hints at the types of traps you’re likely to encounter—”

  OK, point made, but I wasn’t about to acknowledge it. “Put Rynn back on and go back to getting the map of Syria—need I remind you, the only reason we are here.”

  Carpe and I were going to have a little talk when we got out of here about the difference between video games and real life—

  I swore as pain spiked through my head . . .

  Nadya was staring at me, an intense look in her eyes.

  “If Rynn and Carpe are going to fight over you, you could have the decency to tell them to do so in private.”

  Wait . . . what? “I think you are grossly misunderstanding the dynamics here—” Besides, the bickering had more to do with Rynn hating the elf, and Carpe being . . . well . . . Carpe, the backstabbing elf.

  Nadya snorted, and her lip curled up in a sneer. “I suppose you could just keep leading them on. That does fit with your cruel streak. Rynn will win, by the way—he’s more devious than the elf, and when push comes to shove isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty.”

  “OK, pretty sure that’s not a compliment—”

  Nadya didn’t let me finish. “I still haven’t forgotten what happens to your friends. I’ll run before I’ll let you lock me in a tomb,” she said as she quirked her head to the side. “Maybe I should lock you in here instead.”

  A chill ran down the back of my neck, and in spite of my fever I clenched my fists. That was way the hell out of bounds. “Not OK bringing up Marie, not now—”

  The pain flared again, forcing me to shut my eyes and clasp both sides of my head until it dissipated. Nadya was watching me with concern. Captain sniffed my shoes and mewed.

  “Why would I bring up Marie?” Nadya said.

  Nausea hit me as a metallic taste filled my mouth. I covered my mouth to stop myself from puking. Hallucination number two—and I was starting to see a pattern. “Nothing, just the curse rearing its ugly head.”

  She frowned but nodded. “We should keep moving and find this stupid book before it happens again.”

  I couldn’t have agreed more.

  We reached the entrance passageway to Passer’s workroom. The ceiling was lower, only six feet compared to the ten of the main chamber. Nadya and I both checked for traps—twice—before stepping inside.

  If you were an ancient Egyptian wielding a substantial amount of power, one of the benefits of a temple like this over a pyramid was the fact that it was harder to find—and had more ways for potential thieves to get lost. Contrary to popular belief, there was not a lot of room inside pyramids. Lots of crawl spaces though, but you were more likely to find a dead end you couldn’t turn yourself around in than treasure.

  Temples offered more variety—and booby traps.

  Nadya swore as she tripped over a raised tile. I stopped her before she could take another step forward and shone my flashlight down. It was a four-by-four plate depicting a particularly gruesome funeral ceremony, where a man was having his soul devoured by none other than Ammit. I scanned ahead. The floor up until the next room was covered in the larger plate tiles—three per row. Out of the first six, four depicted scenes of the underworld; a deceased’s soul being weighed against the feather of Maat followed by said deceased’s lackluster soul being eaten by Ammit, the jackal-headed Anubis fighting with a god I didn’t recognize, and finally one of Osiris rising from his bier. Two of the tiles—on opposite ends, a row apart—did not fit with the narrative. A picture of the cat goddess Bast, a sun god and protector of the pharaoh, at the far ri
ght of the first row, and the scarab beetle Khepry, bringer of the dawn, on the far left of the second row.

  I crouched to check the edges. Sure enough, they were mobile. “How much do you want to bet you step on the wrong tile a trap goes off?”

  Nadya swore. “I thought the elf said there were no traps this way.”

  “I think it was an educated guess more than anything else.” I switched to line two. “Hey Carpe, plate trap, aisle one on the way to the storeroom. I need to know what it does.”

  “Oh now you want my help—”

  “I can still turn around,” I interrupted.

  “Just a sec,” he said, followed by manic typing on the other end. “Ahh, either the floor collapses, plummeting you to your death, or the roof collapses from above.”

  “Well, which is it?”

  “I don’t know. I’m translating from old architect notes.”

  “So go into World Quest and find out,” I said.

  “I can’t do that. It isn’t ethical—”

  “Ethical? You already broke World Quest. Teleport your avatar over to Egypt and find out what the trap does.”

  “The Syrian City of the Dead is an exception. I bartered that for the book, which I already told you is a matter of utmost importance—life and death. It was an ethical exception I was willing to make.”

  “So is this, you good-for-nothing elf! And might I point out if we die, you also don’t get your book?”

  “So not the same. Besides, you already know it’s a trap—block crushes you from above or the floor drops. Don’t step on the wrong tile—I have complete faith in you. Now get back to finding my book, and I’ll get back to getting your map,” he said, and the line snapped dead.

  “Goddamn son of an elven bitch—” I didn’t have nearly enough insults for elves. I switched back to line one.

  “What are you doing?” Nadya asked.

  “Getting Rynn to ‘persuade’ it out of him,” I said. The line snapped open. “Hey Rynn, feel like beating up Carpe?”

  But Rynn wasn’t on the other line. It was Carpe. Again.

  “Yeah, hacking Rynn’s comm system is nothing compared to World Quest. Suck it up, princess.”