Found

by P. C. Cast

  Lynette disappeared around the side of the mansion to where Neferet had noted the presence of a large metal dumpster in which she could burn the robes while Neferet led the women into the Rose Gardens.

  They strode through the gardens, the five tipsy girls whispering to each other. Neferet did not feel the need to silence them, however, when she overheard that they were repeating their intentions aloud, over and over. Lynette returned quickly to her side smelling vaguely of smoke as the five willing sacrifices followed behind.

  “The robes caught easily?” Neferet kept her voice low, for Lynette’s ears alone.

  “Very easily. The dumpster was filled with paper. Everything within will soon be ash,” Lynette whispered. “Were the Warriors difficult to overcome?”

  “Not at all, and there was only one.”

  “That was a grave error on Zoey Redbird’s part.”

  “Just one of many, dearest.”

  The brazier was still ablaze, but there was no sign of the Warrior. Neferet’s invisible children rejoined her, thick and warm with fresh blood. She pushed through the shielding azalea bushes. Neferet wanted to get nearer to the tomb, and she could have ignored the unpleasantness that radiated from a glistening circle of ice-covered salt that surrounded the tomb, but she could already feel the presence of the guardian spirits. The last thing she wanted was to waste energy on battling the spectral bison.

  Neferet turned to face the women for one last time. “Dark Sisters, now is your hour to shine. What you do tonight will be remembered for centuries and repeated over and over. You will please your stricken goddess, and she will never forget the sacrifice you make. I will be below. Take your places!”

  She and Lynette remained there long enough to be sure the women were in position around the tomb, though neither of them paid any attention to which girl stood where. They weren’t truly casting a circle. They had no power in their blood to compel the elements to come to them, and Neferet did not need to cast a circle. All she needed was the power of the invisible moon above her, and that which writhed around her, eager for what was to come.

  Lynette and Neferet circled around the tomb to carefully follow one of the slick stone paths down to the lawn that stretched to Twenty-First Street. The park was shadow upon shadow. No electricity fueled the streetlights. The only light came from the brazier above the grotto. The flames licked high, casting strange, tongue-like shapes against the stone roof of the wall that encased the grotto and the goddess trapped within.

  Standing on that roof was Vanessa, dressed only in a purple velvet cloak. In a circle around her—some above the tomb, some below, were the four women who represented the elements.

  “I must admit, they make a spectacular sight,” said Lynette. “They’re young and beautiful. The cloaks glisten with ice, and the silly face makeup they’re wearing works from a distance.”

  “Those boots do not though.”

  “I agree,” said Lynette. “But Uggs are easy to buy, which makes them difficult to trace, and allowing them to wear boots makes the five more comfortable. I honestly am not sure they would have walked across the park barefoot.”

  “They are weak willed and spoiled,” said Neferet. “But they are here willingly. You are right about the boots. It only offends my sense of spectacle, and that is all.”

  Vanessa turned to look around, squinting against the dark and trying to see Neferet.

  “I forgot they would not be able to see me,” Neferet said, annoyed with herself.

  Lynette reached into the pocket of the down ski jacket she’d “borrowed” from Kelsey’s closet and pulled out a small flashlight. “I didn’t forget.”

  “You are a treasure.”

  Lynette flicked the on button and focused the beam on Neferet, who lifted her spread arms and then dropped them with a flourish, signaling that Vanessa should begin casting the circle. Then she turned to Lynette while Vanessa walked to Jenna and pretended to invoke air.

  “I want you to remain close to me but stay out of sight there in the shadows of the azalea hedge. I am going to cloak you with a very simple conceal spell. It will be strongest if you are close to me. Dearest, what happens next will be decidedly unpleasant. You know how the children can be when I loose them. Please do not feel as though you need to watch.”

  “I don’t think I should,” Lynette said.

  “I agree. When Neferet is freed you must remain still and silent. Should she be as volatile and mad as we suspect, I will not allow her to see you. Instead you must wait here, cloaked in shadow, until I have left the park with the goddess, then go back to the Rose Gardens. I noticed the greenhouse was alight and I broke the lock. Within, you will have warmth and safety until I rejoin you.”

  “I hope she isn’t insane and is able to appreciate what you have done for her and reciprocate by giving you the information you need.”

  “As do I, my dearest friend, but we must prepare for the worst. She killed one version of you. I will not allow her the opportunity to harm another.”

  They embraced, and then Lynette backed to the azalea hedge. One of Neferet’s fat tendrils unwrapped from around her and slithered across the icy grass to Lynette, where it wound up her leg and draped around her waist.

  Lynette smiled and stroked the tendril.

  “Ah, my child, thank you for volunteering to stay with dearest Lynette. Trust me that your loyalty shall be rewarded tenfold, and you will feast and feast and feast.” Neferet raised her arms, pointing her palms toward the thickest of the shadows behind Lynette. “Blanketing night, I call you with the power that courses through my veins—conceal this one dearest to me—friend and partner—her blood is Imprinted throughout my body. Shadows come! Protect my Lynette!”

  Night seemed to turn to tar, sliding from the deepest of the blackness above and below, to fill the space around Lynette as if a thick curtain of black velvet had closed around her. Satisfied her friend was safe, Neferet focused on the young women who called themselves Dark Sisters.

  Vanessa had lit all four element candles and was returning to stand in the middle of the roof that covered the grotto. She turned to the north and lit her purple candle. It illuminated her face and Neferet thought that she had to agree with Lynette. The young woman certainly was a striking sight. She’d flung back her cape to reveal a body that had been expertly sculpted. As she’d been instructed to do, Vanessa lifted her purple candle. Still holding it, she spread her arms wide and threw back her head. The other four women mimicked her, and they began to chant.

  “Neferet—Neferet—Neferet—Neferet …”

  Neferet raised her arms, palms up, hands cupped to accept the power of the dark moon.

  “Come to me, power of blackened moon.

  My vampyre blood to you attuned.

  Add strength to my spell this icy night,

  As a wrong I do mean to set aright.

  Willing sacrifice feeds the bound goddess within,

  Now in this world a new dark reign shall begin!”

  Centuries before, the Goddess of Night, Nyx, irrevocably linked the power of the moon to vampyres and that night it readily answered Neferet’s call. Energy flowed into her cupped palms. She trembled at its touch and had to concentrate to fight the desire to absorb the delicious strength and keep it for herself.

  “Now, my children, it is your turn. Kill each of them. Drain them of blood and muscle. Shatter their teeth. Eat everything—suck dry their marrow. Strip them to their empty bones. And then take the feast you hold within you and the power I give to you from the moon, and penetrate that puny, mundane wall to gift the feast of blood and bone and power to the goddess trapped within. Go now!”

  The tendrils unwound from around her and glided swiftly across the diamond grass as Neferet threw the power of the dark moon at them. They absorbed it instantly, and she smiled while they swelled in size, radiating
the often-overlooked energy of a new moon. Together they descended upon the five Dark Sisters.

  Neferet was surprised at how quickly it was over, and how silently her children worked. Filled with energy gifted to them from the moon they entered each woman’s body through their mouths with such force that their jaws were broken and their teeth flew in bloody arcs around them before the tendrils dived down their throats, slicing and tearing from within.

  Neferet watched, glad their deaths were quick. Yes, the five had been spoiled, entitled, obnoxious children, but she took no pleasure in their deaths, and certainly felt no need for them to suffer. They were simply performing a service for her and, ultimately, the immortal they considered their goddess.

  “Is it done?” Lynette whispered from the concealing shadows.

  “The Dark Sisters are no more,” said Neferet. “The children are still feeding.”

  Neferet couldn’t see Lynette but she felt her relief. “It was quick?”

  “Yes, dearest. The foolish girls did not suffer.”

  “I’m glad. I’m really, really glad.”

  “As am I.”

  Neferet watched her children rip and tear until there was nothing left but bones, dry as chalk. Then she raised her arms again and her children, thick and glowing with power, turned their heads toward her.

  “Into the tomb! ” she commanded.

  The tendrils of darkness lifted, hovering off the gore-splattered rocks and then they hurled themselves down. They struck the roof of the tomb and appeared to liquefy, dissolving between the tiny cracks of the rock until the wall began to glow with the same inky power that had pooled in Neferet’s palms.

  Neferet steadied herself to wait. She had no idea how long it would take for the immortal within to absorb enough power to break the seal that entombed her, but she did not have to wait long. The rocks stopped glowing. At the same moment, the earth beneath her feet began to tremble and then the tomb exploded in a flash of ebony.

  15

  Other Neferet

  Neferet only had an instant. “Duck! Quickly!” she shouted to Lynette as she slid across the icy grass to huddle under a stone bench not far away while broken bits of dolomite rained around her like shrapnel.

  When the battery of stone stopped, Neferet stood. With the sleeve of her sweater, she wiped blood from a deep cut on her forehead and called to Lynette. “Dearest, are you well?”

  “Y-yes. I twisted my ankle and I can’t walk very well, but I think I’m okay.”

  “Remain in the shadows. Do not speak or move. I will protect you.” Fearlessly, Neferet strode through what looked like thick, black smoke but smelled of decay, to the mouth of the opened tomb.

  The smoke dissipated, and the first thing Neferet noticed was the spectral bison. They’d been awakened. The beasts pawed around the tomb, blowing through their noses, shaking their massive heads and looking for something to gore. Neferet staggered back as their repelling power pushed against her.

  A voice boomed from the tomb. “Begone! ”

  Instantly, the protective spirits began to dissolve, though they were still roaring and snorting, until they were absorbed into the earth from which they’d been conjured. Free from the power of their repel spell, Neferet was able to hurry forward to the tomb.

  As she approached, her children rushed to her. They were emaciated and terribly weakened. They wound around her, and Neferet could feel the cold and fear within them as they clung to her.

  She would never forget her first glimpse of the thing that had been her mirror version in this world. Other Neferet did not frighten easily—if at all—but the creature before her filled her with terror.

  It—she—was perched atop the remnant of the broken ceiling of the tomb. Upon first glance it seemed that she was clothed—then Neferet looked closer and realized that her body was actually covered by what must be her version of the tendrils. There were hundreds, maybe thousands of them. They writhed and pulsed over her elongated body, reminding Neferet of pictures she’d seen of beekeepers being covered with a swarm—only this swarm was serpentine and black as the moonless night.

  The creature that had once been this world’s Neferet was tall—easily over six feet—and skeletally thin. Her limbs seemed stretched to twice their normal length. Her dirt-smeared face was carved from bone, and her cheekbones protruded like an insect’s mandible. Her eyes were enormous and disarmingly beautiful. They were emerald jewels in the bleak, horrible canvas of her face. Her hair was long and matted and the same auburn as Neferet’s, but it was streaked with white.

  Neferet could not even think of her as familiar. This creature was a bizarre monster—not vampyre. Not High Priestess. She was a dark goddess, terrible to behold, and Neferet knew she must show no weakness, no fear, or she would not survive even this initial encounter.

  The Monstress turned her face to Neferet and her expression changed. Insectile, she cocked her head with jerky, odd movements and studied her counterpart.

  “You freed me.”

  Neferet was surprised by the Monstress’s voice. It sounded eerily like her own, only it had a strange resonance, like the vocal cords that produced it were humanoid, but no longer fully human.

  Neferet drew herself up, lifting her chin and meeting the immortal’s gaze. “I did.” She brushed debris of rock and dirt and ice from her sweater as she continued, “Though had I realized it would be so messy I would not have worn cashmere.”

  The Monstress laughed, a sound that was more hyena than human. Then she lifted her hands and commanded, “Reveal! ”

  Neferet felt the power of the spell sweep across her body. Had she only been masquerading to appear like Neferet, that pretense would have been wiped away that moment. Instead, her visage remained normal and she forced herself to relax and smile.

  “It is no spell. I am you. Well, more accurately, I am a version of you from an alternate world.”

  “How fascinating. You do look exactly like me.”

  Neferet bit back a horrified retort and instead said, “Because in my world I am you—Neferet—ex–High Priestess of the Tulsa House of Night.”

  “Ex–High Priestess.” The Other’s eyes flashed with anger. “Did they usurp you as they did me?”

  “I was betrayed, as I believe you were—though I do not know the story that brought you to this wretched tomb.”

  “Take my advice. Keep a close eye on any creature of your own creation—even one you believe could never be disloyal.” The Monstress shivered and the tendrils that writhed over her pale skin pulsed. She stroked them. “Yes, darlings, you will feed again very soon. Patience. We have learned the value of patience.” She returned her gaze to Neferet. “What shall I call you?”

  “Neferet is, of course, my name.”

  “Ah, of course. I shall call you that, Neferet, ex–High Priestess of another world’s Tulsa House of Night. You may call me ‘Goddess.’ ”

  “I’d rather not,” said Neferet, meeting and holding her gaze.

  The Monstress laughed again. “Ah, we are alike.” Then her expression shifted, and she snapped, “Why are you here?”

  “To free you.”

  “Why would you come from another world to do that? What is in it for you?”

  Neferet stared into the immortal’s eyes, and in their soulless emerald depths she saw nothing recognizable or human. And that was the instant Neferet realized that she had made a terrible mistake. This perverted version of herself would never willingly give her what she sought.

  Neferet kept a tight rein on her terror and her disappointment. She was acting on pure instinct, and it told her that if she showed any weakness at all, this dark creature would not let her survive.

  She swept back her hair and answered in a voice that sounded rather bored. “I hoped we could be allies, you and I.”

  The immortal’s look darkened and as it did, Nef
eret felt her children cringing and trembling. She did not glance down at them, but instead stroked them soothingly, willing them not to show their fear.

  “Allies? If we are in different worlds, why would that benefit either of us?”

  Neferet could have said, Well, if they entomb me in my world, I’d hope you would break me out as I did you, but she knew this creature would never come to anyone’s rescue but her own. So, instead she shrugged and said, “While you have been otherwise engaged there,” she gestured dismissively at the rubble that had been a tomb, “the vampyres from your world have been meddling in mine. I decided to free you, hoping that you might have the power to keep them in check—and in their own world.”

  “You were hoping my power would be great enough to keep them in check? It seems you know little of me, no matter your physical appearance. It also seems you are keeping something from me. I wonder what that could be?”

  Neferet did not flinch from the Monstress’s penetrating gaze, but simply said, “I am sure we each have our own secrets.”

  Suddenly, the Monstress levitated, hovering above the rubble and drawing a little closer to Neferet. As she did so, she sniffed the wind, as if scenting something.

  “I do not smell immortality on you, my dear.”

  Neferet laughed cruelly. “Oh, my dear, in my world we do not tastelessly wear our power for everyone to see—or smell. That is so very banal. But perhaps your sense of smell is off after being in there,” Neferet lifted a lip at the tomb, “for so long. It has certainly affected your sense of style, or did you clothe yourself in leeches before you were entombed?”