by Zoe Forward
“And you opened the channel to my senariai. Can you make me age faster? Being stuck in this—” He waved at himself. “—and with memory…is frustrating.”
“You must progress a normal life. Even if I could make you age, she would not.”
“But someone hurts her.”
“Everyone is forced to endure challenges. Do not forget you cannot be initiated until you find your totem.”
“Oh, right. Any hints on its whereabouts?”
Osiris waved at Shay. “I have provided you with the only human in this time capable of offering you that aid.”
“Me?” Shay squeaked out.
“Thank you,” Cy said cordially with bowed head.
Osiris disappeared.
Cy met the others’ curious stares. “I absolutely refuse to attend grade school in the States. I’ll take online classes or something, but if anyone so much as hints of sending me to a local school, I’ll kill ’em.”
Khyan laughed. “Had not even considered that. Well, now we’ll never know if Osiris helped you two for Cy or because of that destiny crap he spewed.”
“What was that?” Shay asked. “How are you on a hugging basis with the god Osiris?”
Cy smiled. “He’s my dad. Bit of a hands-on kind of father when I was in my first life. He taught me many spells. But I haven’t seen him in a very long time. So, what do you know about my totem?”
Excitement blossomed in her chest. Her hunt wasn’t over. “Was it a ring?”
Cy nodded. “Do you know where it is?”
“I was close. Need more time. A few months or a year, maybe. And, please, don’t discount education. You might like college.”
“Is it truly over this time, Cy?” asked Dakar.
Cy muttered a spell. His hand hovered above Dakar for a few moments. “Yes. I detect no residual dark magik. I think it’s done.”
Dakar lifted Shay’s hand and kissed the top, his expression serious.
She said softly, “You think we really have longer than two weeks this time?”
“We will see.”
“You’re right. We will see. We need to—”
Khyan interrupted while scrolling on his smart phone. “Ashor ordered us to deal with a daemon in Canada.” He looked up. “Well, Dakar and myself. I guess you two get to come along for the ride.”
Cy snorted. “But stay in the car. Right?”
“Hell, yes,” Khyan declared.
“We’re not going until we retrieve my cat,” Shay announced.
****
Seven hours later, Shay shifted in the front seat of a rented SUV. Her leg popped up-and-down with restless energy while she stared through the early post-dawn glow at the closed cathedral door in Nova Scotia. Dakar and Khyan had disappeared minutes ago into the church. She estimated the cathedral’s stonework to be circa late 1800s, but the spectacular stained glass much newer.
“I want to watch,” she announced.
“Don’t you dare,” Cy declared. “You stay here. Dakar will have a bloody heart attack. You already being this close to a daemon again made him practically apoplectic.”
“You think you can stop me?” She opened the back door and glanced to her side.
“Please, Shay. If you distract them or that thing comes after you…you can die now. For real. And he’ll die.”
“But I’ve got a bochnori. So, if I die I’ll remember. I’ve lived under a death threat for a long time, and you know what I’ve decided?”
“Oh boy,” Cy groaned.
“Life is for living. And I want to see him. In there. In action.”
“Just promise me not to do anything crazy like I heard you did before that landed you in the hospital.”
“Will you promise to take care of Tasure, if something happens to me?”
“That little furrball hissed at me when I tried to pet him on the plane. I don’t think he likes me.”
“He doesn’t like anyone. Barely tolerates me.”
“Fine. I’ll feed him and…whatever.”
“Thanks.” She smiled and hopped out of the car, running for the front door.
Of course, it was locked. She slid around to a side door that had a much simpler lock, and plucked the barrette from her hair. Within a minute, she had its metal contorted and unlocked the door. Piece of cake.
She slipped into the narthex and hugged her arms against the chilly draft. The overpowering smell of human sewage induced an instant gag. She held a hand against her mouth and swallowed hard.
With a peek around the corner, she watched Dakar stride after Khyan saying, “I absolutely refuse to do blind-rabbit. Why can’t we just do one the normal way and be done with it? I’ve got much better things to do than linger on this.”
“Got a boner that needs attending?”
“You bet your ass I do and a beautiful redhead waiting for me. So, let’s get this done fast.”
“What’s the fun in that?”
She tripped on something soft, but caught herself before she fell. Khyan’s jacket and tactical vest lay discarded at her feet. At the moment, Khyan looked to be stripping his T-shirt…and tying it on his head?
Khyan threw Dakar his blade. “I’ll do it bare handed and you do the blade work.”
“No.” Dakar tossed Khyan’s blade back.
Khyan shrugged and dropped the beautiful metalwork onto the floor. He yelled, “Helloooo! Where are you?” He twirled and laughed a haunting, straight-up psychotic laugh.
Dakar unleashed a string of curses and whirled when the daemon took form immediately behind him. Her heart lodged in her throat when Dakar dodged the talons intent on his neck. One struck his shoulder, ripping through leather and cloth. Oh gods, don’t die, she thought.
Dakar launched a bushwhacker knife into the daemon’s right eye, skewering the beast to a wood column. It howled and clawed at the knife.
Dakar spun to pin her with wide-eyed fury. Get out of here. Please.
Khyan picked at his nails as if bored out of his skull, and calmly said, “That was pitiful. Now you need to blind its other eye.” He glanced up to see why Dakar wasn’t moving. “Oh hey, Shay. I thought you might tag along.”
Dakar stalked to Khyan and planted a right fist nose-crunch that knocked Khyan onto his ass. “I am fed up with this bullshit. I refuse to watch you try to kill yourself like this until your senariai reappears. You want to play these games, then you better find a different fight partner. Clothe yourself and leave. I am done with your immaturity.”
Khyan dissolved into a fit of laughter and rolled on the floor.
The daemon dislodged the knife from its eye socket with a wet slurp. Dakar flicked on a butane lighter and fanned flames to consume the daemon. The daemon ran at him like a baked Alaska with legs. He remained still until the daemon was within a few feet, and then dropped to a kneel. The daemon tripped over him, unable to halt its momentum, and landed on its side. Dakar rammed his scimitar into the flaming creature, mid-chest.
The daemon twisted its legs around Dakar, knocking him to the ground, and trapped him. He ducked its talons and wriggled to get free, managing to free one hand. He stabbed its leg, which did little more than make it madder. A nail swiped his cheek.
Khyan calmly yanked the blade from the daemon’s chest and sliced its neck. It dissolved into a mist and disappeared. “That was not blinded rabbit.”
Dakar sat up and examined his shoulder, which gushed red. “I call that baked bunny.” He cracked a smile and shook his head. “I hate you.”
“You’re welcome. I couldn’t let the bastard rip off your head in front of Shay.”
“I had it under control.”
Shay stared, horrified by the blood covering Dakar. And dripping onto the floor. He was going to die right now, right in front of her, and she hadn’t gotten a chance to tell him she forgave him. She understood this proud, courageous, and selfless warrior who would give his last breath for those he loved. He might be stubborn and wrong a lot of the time, especially about lea
ving her, but he did what he believed best for those he loved.
She marched up to Khyan and slapped him. “What’s wrong with you? Can’t you tell you hurt him when you did that? Here I was starting to like you a little bit, but after that idiocy, you just slid backward into the asshole territory.”
Dakar stood, and smiled at Khyan’s shock.
She glided in front of Dakar. “Oh God, baby. Your shoulder. And your face.”
Gruffly Dakar said, “I’ll heal.”
Shay stalked back to Khyan and ripped off the T-shirt tied around his head. She pressed it against Dakar’s cheek, noting the bleeding there had already stopped.
She put a hand against his non-injured cheek. “I have never seen anything braver than what you just did.”
“I’ve been at this a very long time. I am not sure I would label that brave or even particularly smooth.”
Khyan snorted, “Pretty clumsy, if you ask—”
She shot Khyan a shame-on-you glare, which shut him up. She pressed the T-shirt against Dakar’s still bleeding shoulder. “You were amazing, no thanks to dumbass over there.” Her panic of the past few minutes overwhelmed her and the tears came. She choked out, “I don’t want to lose you now.”
“What? From this? You think I will pass into my next life from this flesh wound?” He shrugged his bleeding shoulder. The T-shirt pressed there stuck in position from all the blood.
She wrapped her arms under his and hugged herself tight to his chest. “Please, don’t die.” I love you so much.
He enfolded her in his arms. “Shaiani, love, I will not die from this. It will heal within an hour or so.” Please, stop crying. Your tears are tearing me apart. You are my heart, my soul. I swear to you I will not die today.
But someday.
All of us live with that inevitability.
Then swear to me on your eternal soul that you’ll never leave me again.
Dakar lifted her chin with a finger. “I swear to you. Never again.”
“Did you just swear to her that you’d never fight with me again?” Khyan asked, his voice cracking and face horror-struck.
Shay narrowed her eyes on him, biting her lower lip against a smile.
Khyan pleaded, “I’m sorry, Shay. This fighting thing just is so fu…boring. But I swear to you I won’t put him at risk again.”
“Swear you will always bring him back alive.”
His brow furrowed. “I swear to you I’ll do everything to bring him back to you. But uncontrollable shit happens.”
She nodded at him, silently accepting his vow, but still unable to forget the lunacy she just witnessed.
And then he ruined the moment. “But, Christ, Shay, you gotta let me spice it up.”
Dakar rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Even if he straightened up for a time or two, he’ll revert to this. You should’ve seen what his senariai said when she tagged along once.”
“Yeah, I imagine this didn’t go over well.”
“She isn’t one to hold back what she thinks.” Dakar worked to twist the bulbous end of his scimitar handle. Finally, it came loose, revealing a small chamber. He shook the blade and emptied a ring into his hand.
Dakar rotated the gold ring between his fingers and held it to her. “’Tis for you, if you will accept it.”
She turned the hefty band. Gold. Hieroglyphs in relief around the edges interpreted into a prayer for eternity. With a rush of breath, she said, “This is genuine? When did you have this made?”
“Within a week of our first meeting. During the reign of Djoser.”
“You waited until now?”
“The night I planned to give this to you was the eve Djoser’s curse first forced you to kill me.”
She paled. “I don’t ever want to…do that again. Each time was awful.”
“Let us hope the curse is over.”
She slipped the band onto her left hand. It automatically fit itself tight to her ring finger as if bespelled. She tugged at it, but it wouldn’t budge. “What’s wrong with it? Can I ever get it off?”
Dakar smiled mischievously. “Was not sure that spell would still hold. Cy cast that long ago. I was a bit, uh, insecure you’d accept it and figured if you tried it on, I wanted to make extra sure it stuck.”
“What if I want to clean it or something?”
“You want to take it off?” Refuse it?
She shook her head. In ancient times, that simple action of accepting the ring confirmed a marriage. No ceremony or vow. Just that. She smiled up at him. “Forever.”
He captured her lips with a promise for later.
She smiled impishly. “You know, I do need to punish you for leaving me. Severely.”
A slow smile broke out on his face. Do your worst. Please.
She stared up at his crystal-clear golden eyes. No sludgy swirling. His kem-seki had been tamed. She traced the tats on his face and neck. Gods, his inking made her wild. “Take me home, Dakarai.”
Glossary of Terms
Akhrian: A human chosen to serve as doctor to the Scimitar magi who is gifted with innate preternatural healing power. This sacred healer also serves a crucial role in identifying reincarnated magi.
Bas kadin: Highest ranking female associated with Hashishins’ harem.
Bochnori: Ensorcelled living tattoo bound to its master by god magik.
Daemon: The cursed spirit of a human that practiced dark magic while alive, denied entry into heaven and hell, but left to wander forever in purgatory.
Etemmu daemon: A daemon who is the spirit of a demi-god or powerful dark magik practitioner. The most powerful are Egyptian, Scottish, or Greek.
Kem-seki: Pronounced km-ski. An id-based darkness that slowly consumes a magus’s mind, the result of exposure to daemons who emit a corrosive evil.
Order of Assassins: A secretive Islamic cult, an offshoot of the Shiite Muslims, founded in the early eleventh century in Persia. The sect is divided into several groups, including the Dais (Initiated), Refiks (Students), and Fedavis (Devoted Ones). The word assassin comes from their nickname, Hashishin (hashish-eaters), which originates from the rumored custom these cultists had of using drugs before their killings.
Scimitar magus: Highly trained magus warrior who protects the world against daemons. Each possesses one distinct supernatural power and enhanced mental acuity as well as rapid healing ability.
Seichim: Pronounced say-keym. A mystical energy endowed to each magus that enhances a warrior’s natural physical and mental abilities to attain greater precision. With this energy, the magus can sense the living energies around him and move faster and stronger than any human.
Senariai: Pronounced see-nary-eye. The destined woman spiritually bonded to one magus.
A word about the author...
Zoe Forward lives in the South with her supportive family and an assortment of pets. She has a special love for archaeology, especially anything Egyptian. A deep part of her wishes she had a career that would have her at a dig site in a sandy country. But she is a small animal veterinarian, caring for everything from chinchillas to dogs...and there was even one hermit crab in there.
Visit her website at:
http://www.zoeforward.com
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