by Mur Lafferty
“What is he talking about?” I asked Izanami. “How is he carrying part of you? And who’s Horus?”
She didn’t answer me, but she stared hard at the giant dog in front of us. “Weigh him again.”
Anubis sniffed one last time. “No, I don’t think so. This soul has a story to tell. I think we should let it speak.”
And with that, he opened his great gaping jaws and swallowed Daniel’s soul.
#
Suddenly Daniel’s afterlife played out like a hologram before us - Daniel arriving, being met in the afterlife by many, many women. Clothes were shed, bodies came together-
I turned my head, embarrassment and jealousy distracting me from the real reason we were here. “Tell me when this part is over,” I mumbled to Kazuko.
She glanced at me and said, “The true story is sometime after this, Lord Anubis.”
Anubis nodded once and I glanced up to see Daniel meeting with God, receiving the Traveler’s necklaces, and then walking to find me.
I gasped when I saw myself, sped up, from Daniel’s memory. I was shorter than reality, and mousier. I’d never been voluptuous, but in Daniel’s memory I had little more body than a boy’s.
Time sped up, we interfered in Elysium, I went away with Hermes, we went to dog heaven.
It became fascinating, how Daniel viewed me. After my encounter with Hermes, I had matured in Daniel’s eyes, growing a little taller, gaining a tiny bit of a figure.
I became enraged, then, stalking off, then demanding answers from him. I realized that’s when he started seeing me as me, as someone who wasn’t his sexless little sister. My confidence had grown with my anger.
I approached the angel, looking like a hero; much more confident and strong than I remembered feeling. Then she embraced me and I-
I turned my head, uncomfortable with the memory of the attack.
In God’s office, rage washed over Daniel as he realized how God couldn’t help him.
Then we got to the part of the story I wasn’t familiar with…
#
With his eye finally restored to him, and the cold hard fact that he had lost any chance of restoring Kate to a corporeal body, Daniel strode with powerful steps away from the glory that was the Christian heaven. Kazuko followed him as fast as her dignity allowed her.
“He tricked me. The son of a bitch tricked me.” His eyes were wide with rage.
“He has no mother,” Kazuko began, and Daniel rounded on her.
“I don’t need your logical bullshit now. Not now. I had one of the smartest beings in the universe in my head, I lost him and immediately become a goddamned fool. My best friend in the world is in a fucking jar and I don’t need your excuses!”
“Where are we going?” Kazuko asked.
“I don’t know. Away. Somewhere. Wherever I can get what I need to get her back.”
Kazuko placed her hand on Daniel’s arm. “Allies fall in battle all the time. Sometimes we can’t help them.”
“Bullshit.” He wrenched away from her and started again, but stopped immediately. “What’s off the road?”
“Wasteland,” she said.
“People wander through wastelands to get answers, right? Isn’t that in all the holy books?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. He stepped off the road onto the grass and walked perpendicular from the road.
Kazuko spat something in Japanese and followed him. “This is dangerous, Daniel.”
He didn’t look at her. “Then it’s good I have a bodyguard, isn’t it?”
They didn’t stop for rest. Eventually the road disappeared into the distance and the grass gave way to sand. The sun became a baleful eye that caused Daniel to squint and shield his eyes.
“Which way?”
Kazuko sniffed. “What are you looking for?”
Daniel crumpled briefly. “I don’t know. Odin? Wisdom? Another god? Can I just cut out my eye and get him back? I’ll do it.”
Kazuko stopped his searching hand from scrabbling for the great black katana at his side. “Stop. Daniel. Stop.”
Tears threatened. “I have to get her back. You don’t understand. I can’t do it without her.”
“You survived Ragnarök without her,” she began.
“She was there. I knew she’d be there when I got back. Now I may never have her back.” The tears came now, evaporating in the desert wind and leaving stinging, salty trails in their wake.
Kazuko sighed. She lifted Daniel by the shoulders easily, as if he were a rag doll. “We’ll save her,” she said, and leaned in. He was so startled by the kiss that he didn’t return it, just allowed her soft lips to press briefly against his.
Calm and patience infused his mind; the kind of patience that came from sitting in an underground prison for millennia. When she set him down, he cleared his throat and straightened, blushing. “Right. Okay. Let’s go.”
He looked around the desert, relishing briefly the view on his recovered left side. He saw something move behind a dune, a large shadow. Sand rose from the dune as if the shadow was struggling.
Daniel pointed, and Kazuko nodded.
“Horus and Set,” she said.
“Who?”
“Egyptian gods. Horus epitomizes good. Set epitomizes evil. They are destined to fight till the end of time.”
Daniel looked at his watch and started out over the sand. “Yeah, well, that was about a day or so ago. Time for them to stop.”
Kazuko followed, sword drawn. Daniel also drew his, Izanami’s terrible katana, but held it awkwardly.
The point drooped. Daniel stared at it. “I lost everything. I can’t even remember how to hold this. What the hell good am I going to be in a battle?”
Kazuko placed her small hand on his shoulder, stopping him. “Close your eyes.” He obeyed. “Feel the sword. It will speak to you.”
“How will—”
Kazuko cut him off, saying, “Shhhh.” She allowed the silence to permeate the air. “You may not have Odin’s wisdom anymore, but you are not alone. You have more inside you than you know. Feel the sword. It will tell you how to use it. It will help you become a godslayer.”
Daniel’s face relaxed and the katana’s tip dipped into the sand. In his mind danced a great and terrible goddess, mother of all, and after a betrayal, destroyer of all. Izanami knew how to wield this sword.
“Have I been carrying her this whole time, like Odin?” he asked, his voice soft with awe.
Kazuko smiled. “She has been with you, yes.”
Daniel’s hand tightened on the katana as the knowledge reminded his muscles what to do. He opened his eyes. “Do we have a plan?”
“We rarely do,” Kazuko replied.
Daniel snorted a bitter laugh and they struggled through the sand further to meet the battling gods.
Horus was a golden eagle, the size of a grown man. He rose into the air and dove, again and again, at his opponent. Daniel blinked when he saw that Horus had been blinded in one eye.
Set had chosen an ever-changing variety of outlets for his shape. He twisted constantly, becoming a giant hippopotamus, a snake, an armored beetle. He bled from several gashes delivered from Horus’s talons. Currently, as a beetle dripping black goo, he burrowed into the sand.
Horus dove again, screaming his fury, and grasped Set’s wiggling little legs. He carried his uncle into the air, shrieking triumph, but Set changed to a snake again and, tail still clasped in Horus’s talons, slid up to tangle himself in Horus’s wings. He squeezed, and the great bird faltered in the air.
Daniel and Kazuko watched as Horus attempted to wrestle control from his uncle and keep aloft at the same time. That became impossible as Set constricted, pulling Horus’s wings back, and they plummeted.
Daniel swore and ran down the dune as best he could, sliding in the sand. When the gods hit the ground, sand sprayed in all directions, including into Daniel’s face.
Blinded, he stumbled forward. He coughed and spat and rubbed at his stingin
g eyes. Had the fall broken Horus’s delicate bird bones? Were divine bird bones stronger than normal bird bones?
Once the sand had settled, everything was quiet. Daniel rubbed again at his eyes, but the sand still blurred everything. “Kazuko! Where are you?”
She didn’t answer. Daniel swore again and stumbled forward again, startled when his hands fell on warm feathers. They did not move.
“No, no, no, no, no,” Daniel said, dropping the katana to feel for any sign of life on the god’s body. Izanami’s sword slid a bit on the sand, the impossibly sharp blade slicing through his boot and into his ankle.
Daniel grunted and pulled away from the blade, still trying to clear his vision. Horus twitched under his fingers, and the feathers melted away until Daniel touched only a muscular back. A human hand reached out and touched his ankle.
I gotta stop getting cut around gods, he had a moment to think, before the tidal wave of power flowed into his body. He cried out and fell backward. He retched onto the sand with the dizziness of it, and then slowly got to his feet.
He rubbed his hands over his still-watering eyes and spat the bile out of his mouth. He leaned over and picked up the katana, hands shaking, and realized he could see out of only one eye.
Frantically he rubbed the left eye, but his hand fell away when he heard the voice in his head.
Sorry about that. It’s a side effect, a voice inside his head said. He looked down at the body of the bronze, dying god that lay on the sand, a large black snake coiled around his neck, constricting.
“Horus,” Daniel said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.”
Oh, you can still help. I am not Odin; this is not my destiny.
Set had not noticed Horus’s immigration to the new body, and still tightened. A bone snapped in Horus’s neck.
“Yikes, that’s gotta sting,” Daniel said.
The serpent noticed him at that moment and stared at him, the slitted eyes appraising.
Stop staring and kill him! Horus said.
“Oh, right,” Daniel said, and raised the katana. Izanami had killed few snakes, although she had encountered many in the underworld after her death. She hated them. The snake danced to the side as Daniel struck, and he sliced Horus’s cheek instead.
He felt a disappointed groan inside him. “Sorry about that,” he said through gritted teeth. He backed up, goading the snake into following him.
Set changed then, flattening out into beetle form. A beetle the size of an Irish wolf hound.
“Shit,” Daniel said, skidding backward down the dune. His heel dug into the sand and he lost his balance entirely, toppling over and rolling down the dune.
Not keen on rolling over the katana, he instinctively dropped it, trying to stop his roll before Set was on him.
It was too late. Dizzy from the fall, sand in his mouth, nose, ears, and eyes, he sat dazed when he felt the hard shell of the beetle on his back, the mandibles clamping around his left wrist.
He howled as the beetle cut into his wrist and the blood poured into Set’s mouth.
The beetle paused to drink, and Daniel’s stomach turned over, the disgust momentarily replacing the pain and fear.
“Fucking bug,” he said, trying to roll away and kick at it.
“Kazuko!” he called again, hoping for help.
You could shape-change, suggested the voice in his head.
“Oh sure, that’s totally easy,” Daniel grumbled. “Why don’t I just shape-change?” he kicked at Set with each syllable.
You can, now. Daniel had a feeling of dizziness and loss of control, and then Horus clearly took over, morphing his body into that of a great golden eagle. His wing tip easily slipped from Set’s mandibles, and the beetle chittered his annoyance.
Holy shit! This is amazing! Why didn’t you say that before? Daniel asked as Horus took flight.
I thought you knew. The voice was warm and amused.
They circled around and poised for a dive at the beetle, which blurred and started to assume another shape.
Hey. Wait. You’ve been doing this for centuries, right? Daniel asked.
Horus paused and circled Set again. Yes. Why?
Why don’t we try a new way to fight him?
Daniel felt the mental shrug at his plan. Horus aimed another dive, this time away from Set, and they plummeted, talons outstretched, and they closed on the hilt of Izanami’s katana in a great explosion as they landed.
With a great leap, they were off into the air again, the unbalanced sword hanging from their straining talons.
Now what? Horus asked. Set had become a hippo again, readying himself for a charge once they landed.
Let me drive, Daniel said.
They dove again, the hippo judging the angle of their attack and trying to get out of the way. Set changed to a beetle again and began burrowing into the sand.
Now, Daniel said, and Horus gave him his own body back.
Daniel gripped the katana and aimed it straight down as he fell. He landed on Set’s back, the goddess’s blade sinking deep, through the beetle’s armor and into the soft interior, and then out the other side.
Set let out a great screech and began switching shapes, but the katana speared him the same no matter what animal he chose.
Daniel held on tight, the bucking god under him trying to throw him off. In the violence, he brushed up against the katana several times, the blade slicing effortlessly through his clothing and skin.
Set stilled, then, and Daniel pulled the blade out. Exhausted, he stepped on the beetle’s back and went to the fairest approximation of its neck, then sank the katana into the bug again, hopefully killing off any remaining brain activity.
He stumbled off Set and knelt in the sand, trying to see all the places he was cut. There were several, some deep.
“Will that do it? Is it over?” Daniel asked out loud.
I have never before been able to kill him. He has beaten me, and I have beaten him, but there has been no death. I’m in your debt.
“Yeah, but what about your body?” Daniel asked, pointing at the god.
I still live. With your intervention, you have helped me win the battle I have fought since the beginning of time. I cannot ask you for more.
“Oh, go on. You know you want to,” Daniel said, sensing Horus wasn’t telling him something. “Do you really want to go back into that body?”
There was a long pause. You do have the power to restore me, he finally said. What would you ask in return?
Daniel smiled.
#
Horus, back in his own body, gazed up at Daniel with his one eye. The agony of his broken neck and other wounds was apparent on his face. Daniel didn’t feel so hot himself. “Are you sure? Is she worth all that?”
“She’s worth more than I have the ability to communicate.”
“I have to take your eye to restore myself. Are you ready?” Daniel nodded. With a grimace, Horus’s form shimmered and he became an eagle again, his broken neck looking even worse in bird form. He held up a talon and hesitated.
Daniel gritted his teeth. “Do it.”
The last thing his left eye saw was the shining claw of Horus descending.
It was worse than the first time, maybe because the anticipation made it worse. Daniel’s body was already injured and singing the songs of pain and blood, and adding a bass drum to the symphony wasn’t making it happier. He tried to bite back the screams as he bled onto the sand, but he couldn’t. He was dimly aware that Kazuko was there, finally, drawing his shuddering body into her lap. She held a clean cloth to his face.
“He is restored.” Kazuko said Daniel. “Your sacrifice has healed him.”
Daniel barely heard her as he retched from the pain, retreating far into himself, wishing never to come out. Dimly aware of Horus taking wing, spraying hot sand on them. Dimly aware of Kazuko assuring him that Horus would return. Dimly aware of her stroking his hair.
Then he was unaware of anything.
He woke
when Kazuko tied a bandage across his ruined eye. His felt much better, although the socket still throbbed.
“What?” was all he managed to say.
“He has been and gone. He did his part of the bargain, and gave you something in addition. I’m not sure if bargaining with Horus will benefit you, but what’s done is done.”
Daniel flexed his arms and legs; his cuts seemed to be healed, although he was still coated in tacky blood. Odin was back. His head ached, but it was nothing like it had been. He sagged with relief.
“Where were you?” he asked. “I thought you were my bodyguard.”
She frowned. “I am not permitted to interfere in battles between gods. I couldn’t help.”
Daniel’s jaw dropped. “Then why did you encourage me to go in alone?”
“I knew you could handle it,” she said.
He shook his head. “Why did you say helping Horus is bad?” he asked.
“You now share a lost eye,” she said. “Together you slayed Set. You may share other things. Horus is also known for beheading his mother, among other things.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Daniel replied. Then, louder, “We need to go back.”
“You should rest.”
“I can’t wait anymore. She can’t wait anymore.” With her help, he struggled to his feet.
They walked in silence, Kazuko on his blind side to protect him. Her voice was very soft. “Are you going to tell her that you love her?”
He shook his head. “My mother went insane. My sister died. My father’s emotions shut down permanently. Every woman since then has been a band-aid. I lose everyone I love. And I can’t lose Kate. So I can’t love her. I don’t love her.”
Kazuko watched him with sympathetic eyes. “Those are possibly the most words to ever proclaim that someone does not love.”
“Shut up, Kazuko.”
