Long Hot Summoning

by Tanya Huff

  “Oh, yeah? Who throws all those damned balls for you?”

  Instead of growing larger, the throne grew smaller as they approached until it, and the male figure sitting upon it, were only slightly bigger than the human norm. Osiris wore a pleated linen skirt similar to Anubis’ but with a cloth-of-gold overskirt. Gold sandals laced up around muscular calves, and a huge gold-and-obsidian collar rested on broad shoulders over impressive pecs. In spite of the traditional stick-on beard, the god of the underworld was a piece, no question about it, although Claire was fairly sure she’d seen the same outfit while closing an accident site at the Pyramid Club in Las Vegas.

  Before either of their guides could speak, Lance pulled his PDA from its belt pouch, hit a quick sequence of keys, and read, in what Claire assumed was ancient Egyptian, “Praise be unto thee, O Osiris, lord of eternity, Un-nefer, Heru-Khuti, whose forms are manifold and whose attributes are majestic. It’s a hymn to Osiris from the Book of the Dead,” he added, sotto voce in English. “I’ve got the whole thing in here! Had to get extra memory! It goes on for a bit.”

  “I think you hit the high points.”

  “You understood that?”

  “It’s a Keeper thing.” One golden-shod foot had begun to tap. “I’ll explain later. Why don’t we let Bast speak now?”

  “Why do you need me?” Bast wondered pointedly. “You seem to be doing so well on your own.”

  Seventeen years with Austin had given Claire seventeen years of practice groveling, and a cat goddess was by no means as picky an audience as an actual cat—particularly one who’d accidentally been shut outside in the rain. Austin had made her pay, and pay, and pay for days, but by the time Bast turned to Osiris, she was almost purring.

  Claire tuned out the story of their arrival in the Hall and worried about Dean instead. It was her fault he was in danger, her fault he might get his life sucked out by a reanimated Egyptian mummy. Women who went away on business and only worried about the man they left behind compulsively gambling away their savings or getting involved with the floozy at the coffee shop had no idea how good they had it. At least they had better-than-average odds that the man they loved wouldn’t end up as bait in a deadly plot that involved power sucking and world domination. Well, better than average odds everywhere but New York and LA.

  “It has been a long time since the living came to my Hall,” Osiris said thoughtfully as Bast finished. His voice reminded Claire of that velvet glove/iron fist combination and while he was speaking, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. “You are not on the Otherside, Keeper. You could reach into the possibilities here. Why haven’t you?”

  “This is your domain, Lord Osiris. To breach your parameters would be at best very stupid and at worst, incredibly rude.”

  He frowned. “Don’t you mean that the other way around?”

  “No. It’s a Canadian thing,” she added when he continued to look confused. “Lord Osiris, all we want to do is to leave. I’m in the middle of trying to stop a shopping mall from taking over the world, and Lance here…”

  “Isis embraceth thee in peace and she driveth away the fiends from the mouth of thy paths.”

  “Not now, Lance.”

  “If not now, when?” he asked.

  Claire admitted he had a point. Unfortunately, she had no idea how long they’d been traveling as her watch had stopped working between the beach and the hippos and she couldn’t risk squandering the time. “Probably never. Sorry. Lord Osiris, if you could point us toward a door…”

  “Unfortunately, there is only one door out of my Hall and to go through it, you must be judged.”

  “But we’re not dead.”

  “I would so have remembered to tell him that,” Anubis muttered.

  “Living or dead, it doesn’t matter,” Osiris pointed out. “Judgment is the only way out. One at a time, your hearts will be weighed against a single feather. If your heart is lighter than the feather, you will be declared maa kheru and the door will be opened. If it is heavier, then you stand condemned and will be devoured…” He gestured toward a triangle of deep shadow to the left of his throne. “…by the Eater of the Dead.”

  “But we’re not dead,” Claire repeated, enunciating carefully.

  NOT A PROBLEM. I’LL FIGURE SOMETHING OUT.

  “Claire?” Lance grabbed her shoulder and shook her hard enough to rattle her teeth. “Your mouth is open.”

  She closed it. Opened it. Closed it again. “What are you doing here?” she demanded at last.

  DARKNESS. CONDEMNED SOULS. I GET AROUND.

  “Obviously.”

  I KNOW SOMETHING YOU DON’T.

  Claire snorted. Only a rookie would fall for that.

  IT’S ABOUT YOUR LITTLE SISTER.

  Her toes were at the edge of the shadow before she was even aware of moving. “You stay away from my sister!”

  OH, I’M SO SCARED. MAKE ME.

  About to reach into the possibilities, Osiris’ voice snapped her back into reason. “You two know each other?”

  “We’ve met.” Walking carefully, deliberately, back to Lance’s side, Claire turned on one bare heel and glared at the shadow. “Last couple of times it happened, I kicked metaphorical ass.”

  YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAY, THIRD TIME LUCKY.

  “Really? You know what else they say?” She folded the fingers of her right hand into an “L” and tapped it against her forehead. “Loser. Loser. Loser.”

  “Keeper!” The Lord of Judgment’s voice had picked a tone somewhere between Darth Vader and her mother. “Stop taunting the Eater of the Dead.”

  “Sorry.”

  YOU WILL BE.

  “And that’s enough out of you as well.” Osiris stepped down off the throne, his size changing from gigantic to merely tall. “Anubis, bring out the scales.”

  Claire didn’t exactly catch where Anubis brought the scales out from. It appeared between one heartbeat and the next, the onyx center post exactly as tall as Osiris, the onyx arms, the same measure. Shallow golden bowls hung at the end of golden chains.

  “Thou turnest thy face upon Amentet and thou makest the earth to shine as with refined copper.”

  “Lance, what are you doing?”

  He lifted his eyes from the small screen. “Sucking up!”

  This had to be the most sensible thing he’d said since the beach. “Carry on.”

  “Those who have lain down, rise up to see thee, they breathe the air and they look upon girls, girls, girls. You wanna see girls? We got the best at www.ohmama.com. Wait a minute, that last bit’s something else I downloaded!”

  “I guessed.”

  “How’d it get into this file?”

  “Shut up, Lance.”

  “But I have more!”

  It was always hard to tell with anthropomorphic personifications of gods, but the expression on Osiris’ face was making Claire just a little nervous. “No, really, Lance, shut up.”

  Maybe she’d finally reached the magic number. Maybe he was trying for a satellite uplink. Whatever the reason, he actually stopped talking.

  “Bast. The feather.”

  Bast pulled a white feather from the air and laid it in one of the shallow bowls.

  “This feather is from the Sacred Ibis.” Osiris shot Bast a look as he spoke. Claire knew that look although the accompanying dialogue had gone This feather is from Mrs. Griffon’s canary! “Who will go first to judgment?”

  “I will!”

  When Osiris turned his dark gaze on her, Claire realized she must have made some small sound of protest. But did it really matter which of them went first? This wasn’t something she could protect a Bystander from and, who knew, maybe enthusiasm would count for something. Still…“If he passes and I don’t, do I have your word you’ll send him home? To his home,” she added hastily. Rule whatever—be specific.

  “You have my word,” Osiris answered solemnly.

  “Good enough.”

  Anubis beckoned Lance forward.

 
“This is amazing! I mean you can read about this sort of thing and study it, but to actually be a part of…”

  The jackal-headed god’s hand sank into Lance’s chest and emerged clutching his beating heart.

  “…ow! You know, I thought this would be a little more metaphorical!”

  Osiris shrugged. “I weigh your heart against a feather. Seems fairly straightforward to me. Anubis…”

  Lance’s heart landed in one of the shallow bowls with a moist thud as Osiris laid the feather in the other. The scales began to shift.

  “Wait a minute! That’s my…” Pale blue eyes rolled up so only the whites showed.

  Claire danced back as Lance hit the floor. “You know, up until now, he’d been taking this whole experience annoyingly well.”

  “He’s not the first fainter we’ve had,” Osiris said matter-of-factly as he watched the bowl holding Lance’s heart begin to rise. “He’ll be fine once he gets his heart back. I’m getting the impression he doesn’t worry about much,” he added as the feather continued to drop. “He treats his life as a series of grand adventures; this one merely a little more grand than usual. Besides, I can feel a place where his ka was brushed by a dark ka. As long as that shadow remains, he’ll be…”

  “Distracted?”

  “Focused.”

  Well, that explained the Meryat obsession. “Does the shadow affect…” She waved a hand toward the scales…

  …which had stilled with Lance’s heart holding steady a good six inches above the feather.

  “Not in the least. I judge this man to be maa kheru. He is free to go. Anubis.”

  Anubis, who’d been licking his fingers, leaped forward, retrieved Lance’s heart, squatted down, and pushed it carefully back into his body.

  “Bast…”

  Caught between bracing herself and trying to relax, Claire missed Bast’s hand plunging into her chest, but she certainly felt it coming out. Ow! was a bit of an understatement. The cat-headed goddess frowned slightly as she crossed to the scale and Claire began to have a bad feeling about how this was going to turn out.

  Of course her heart was heavy. She was a Keeper. She was responsible for the metaphysical protection of a good chunk of southeastern Ontario and upstate New York. And then there was the guest house and Diana, and being away from the segue, and dragging Lance around the Otherworlds, and not even knowing there were Otherworlds until she found herself plunged into the middle of them. Or maybe it. And she’d left Dean alone to face a reanimated mummy. Sure, Austin was with him, but he wasn’t supposed to be, and what had she been thinking dragging a seventeen-year-old cat into an evil shopping mall anyway?

  “Well. This is…interesting.” All three gods were staring at the scales. The bowl holding the feather was brushing the floor. The bowl holding her heart was an arm’s length above Osiris’ head.

  “Is this happening because I’m a Keeper?” Claire hazarded.

  “No. This is happening because this isn’t your heart.”

  She glanced down at her chest and up at the bowl. “Pardon?”

  “It appears you have given your heart to another. This heart is his.”

  Dean stared down into Claire’s face for a long moment before his mouth finally curved into a worried smile. “Got my heart?”

  She laid a hand lightly against her chest. “Right here. Got mine.”

  He mirrored the motion. “Safe and sound.”

  “A most unusual young man.”

  He’d lived next to a hole to Hell for six months and it hadn’t even convinced him to drop his underwear on the floor.

  “He is, yes.”

  The Lord of Death dragged Dean’s heart down to where Bast could reach it. “You realize you’re getting off on a technicality.”

  “Yes, I do.” The return was painless. It was a pity Lance was still out; Claire had a feeling things couldn’t get much more metaphorical than this.

  HEY! THIS ISN’T FAIR!

  Osiris shot an exasperated look toward the shadow. “Death seldom is.”

  SHE CHEATED!

  “No one cheats death in the end.”

  WHAT, I’M SUPPOSED TO EAT PLATITUDES NOW?

  “If you like.”

  And you can choke on them, Claire thought as Lance’s eyelids started to flutter. Dropping to one knee beside him, she shook his shoulder. “Come on, big guy. We’re leaving.”

  “Going home?”

  “Not right away. I’ve got some shopping to do first.”

  “I like shopping.”

  “Great. Hold that thought.”

  It took Anubis and Bast helping to get him to his feet. He swayed slightly and blinked at Anubis. “Hey, who’s a good OW!”

  Violence against Bystanders was permitted only in circumstances where it saved said Bystander, or Bystanders, from a greater violence. Claire figured calling Anubis a “good doggie” was definitely in the greater violence category.

  “You pinched me!”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Okay, then. How did we do?” he asked, rubbing one cheek.

  “Neither of you were found wanting,” Osiris answered. He stepped forward, and Claire wasn’t surprised to find the three of them suddenly standing in front of the huge golden doors. Only now the doors were a standard height.

  “Hey! We grew!”

  Okay. That worked, too.

  * * *

  “Dr. Rebik?” The cleaned and ironed chinos hanging over his arm, Dean knocked on the door to room two. “Dr. Rebik, your pants are ready.”

  “Maybe they’re having a nooner.”

  Dean turned to stare at Austin in disbelief.

  The cat shrugged. “Why not? They’re young and in love…oh, wait, my mistake, he’s having his life sucked out and she’s a reanimated corpse.”

  “And it’s twenty after ten.” He knocked again.

  “I find it disturbing that you’re more concerned with the time than the corpse.”

  “I find it disturbing that you know what a nooner is.” About to knock a third time, he lowered his hand as the door opened and Dr. Rebik slipped out into the hall. Dean caught a quick glimpse of Meryat lying on the bed, wrapped arms crossed over her breast, then Dr. Rebik pulled the door closed.

  One hand clutching the waistband of a pair of borrowed sweatpants, he stared up at Dean through bloodshot eyes as if unsure of who he was speaking to. “Yes?”

  Dean held out the chinos.

  “Ah. Yes.” Comprehension dawned slowly. “You were washing them for me.” His hand trembled slightly as he reclaimed his clothing.

  “You all right, Dr. Rebik? You’re looking some poorly.”

  “Some poorly?” The archaeologist managed a tired smile. “It’s the waiting. It’s hard on Meryat.”

  “Looks like it’s hard on you.”

  “We are as one in this.”

  “Okay. Sure.” Frowning slightly, Dean watched as Dr. Rebik slipped back into his room. Meryat hadn’t moved. If he didn’t know better, he’d have to say she looked dead. As he stepped away from the door, he noticed a worn, brown leather wallet lying on the floor.

  The way those sweatpants had been sagging, it had probably fallen from a pocket.

  Dean bent, scooped it up, and lifted his hand to knock again.

  Austin cleared his throat.

  Don’t look at the cat. Just give it back.

  As subtlety didn’t seem to be working, Austin sank a claw into Dean’s ankle just above his work boot.

  “Son of…” He danced down the hall, collapsing against the wall by room one. “What’d you do that for, then?”

  “Aren’t you the least bit curious?”

  “About what? Tetanus?”

  “About what’s in his wallet.”

  “An amulet controlling his will? A note asking us to save him?”

  Austin speared him with a pointed gaze. “You didn’t used to be this sarcastic.”

  “I didn’t used to live with you!”

  “Maybe he dropp
ed it on purpose, did you think of that? Maybe it’s a cry for help.”

  “You’re reaching.”

  “You’re opening it.”

  And he was. He didn’t know what he expected to find, but he found he couldn’t give the wallet back unexamined. It had fallen some conveniently. “I can’t believe I’m after doing this.”

  “I can’t believe it’s taking you so long.”

  Credit cards. Health card. Driver’s license…His eyes widened. If forced to guess, he’d have said Dr. Rebik was in his mid to late sixties.

  According to his driver’s license, he was thirty-eight.

  And he looked worse than his picture.

  * * *

  “I was right.”

  “I know.”

  “You were wrong.”

  “Yeah. I got that.”

  “There’s a song, you know. When I’m right and you’re wrong.”

  Dean stopped pacing long enough to glare at the cat. “Don’t sing it.”

  Austin sat down on the dining room table, stuck a foot in the air, and began washing his butt.

  “Very subtle.” The dining room was exactly fourteen paces long. Provided he shortened the last step. “What do we do now?”

  “You mean now that you admit I’m right?”

  “Yes!”

  “Well, we have to stop her. She’s sucking your life force out and what’s to say she won’t get tired of waiting for Claire and start sucking harder.”

  “Lance said he knew how to stop her.”

  “Which would be relevant if Lance wasn’t off with Claire.”

  “Can we use the elevator on her?”

  Austin sat up and shook his head. “It’s a little obvious. I suspect she’d sense it. What are you doing?”

  Dean paused in the middle of crumpling up a sheet of newspaper. “I’m going to clean the windows. It’s what I do when I need to think.”

  The two huge windows in the dining room were already spotless, but he sprayed them with a vinegar-and-water solution and began to rub.

  “That’s a very annoying noise.”

  “Sorry.”

  “You’re not going to stop, are you?”

  “No.”

  When the paper was wet, he tossed it into the garbage and reached for another sheet. As he pulled it off the early edition, Austin’s paw snaked out and smacked it back down.