“You must bear it, Katarina Dubois, just for a moment,” Anapa said, shouting to be heard over the horrific sound. “Everything I have shown you up until this point has been foundational. You now have the knowledge to understand what is happening. This last event should make everything clear. You will know what you must do, and it will be up to you to figure out how.”
Deep breaths. It didn’t matter that I didn’t actually have lungs right now, going through the motions helped.
“Alright . . .” Groaning, I gritted my teeth and forced my eyes open.
I stared out through the translucent barrier at another low point in my life. This one was recent—barely hours old—and still cut deep when I considered the events that surrounded it. The fight with Nik in the cave. The confrontation with him and Heru in the foyer. The rebellious flight with Mari and Mei. This bizarre journey through time with Anapa.
I was watching myself in the back room of the cabin, seated on the edge of Charlene’s bed, her hand in mine as I tried to transform her into a Nejeret. As I failed.
Her aura was teal, or what little of it I could see under the gray taint of the disease was teal.
“Why does it do that?” I asked Anapa, raised voice tight with tension. “Why does the virus turn people’s auras gray?”
Anapa inhaled deeply, then sighed. “Through their experimentation on Nejerets, Mari and the Ouroboros scientists managed, very much by accident, to create a bastardized, synthetic version of a ba. It is a vile thing, capable of immortalizing the soul of the infected, much as a ba is capable of doing, but in the process, it mutates parts of the soul, turning it into something else entirely . . . something incapable of existing in a human body any longer.”
I frowned. “That’s not disturbing or anything.”
The corners of Anapa’s mouth tensed. “Indeed. Now watch,” he said, pointing to the scene beyond the barrier. “This is the important part.”
I did as he said. My lips parted as I watched threads of pearlescent white At and onyx-black anti-At spread out from my left hand and wrap around Charlene’s hand and arm. “Whoa,” I breathed. “What the . . .”
As the threads sank into Charlene’s skin, the gray in her aura began to fade and the teal brightened. In a matter of seconds, her aura was returned to normal. Or what I assumed was normal.
“So, she’s alright?” I shook my head, hands still covering my ears in a vain attempt to shield them from the sound. I pointed to the barrier with my elbow. “What just happened there, because I’m pretty sure I just watched a bunch of little At and anti-At tentacles shoot out of my hand and into Charlene to suck away the virus.”
Anapa frowned and nodded his head back and forth. “That is not a terrible interpretation.” He shrugged. “Truly, I am not sure, either, but so far as I can tell, the infection is so anathema to everything in this universe that the combined efforts of the two building blocks of this universe felt the need to destroy it.”
“So, they’re like the universe’s antibodies?” I clarified.
“In a manner, yes.”
“Okay, so . . . theoretically, someone should be able to duplicate what happened with Charlene on a grander, worldwide scale,” I thought aloud.
“Not someone,” Anapa said. “You.”
I laughed. “Right.” And then I realized he was serious, and gulped.
“The destruction of the millions of souls currently infected is more than enough to throw off the universal balance beyond anything that ma’at can repair.” Anapa looked away, his hands once again clasped behind his back. “If it looks to me like such a thing is likely to happen, I will be forced to sever the connection between our two universes. That is why I am here.”
I tilted my head to the side, confused. “So, we’ll be flying solo for the rest of eternity. Why does that matter? We still might be able to fix things, even without you, right?”
Anapa speared me with an unexpectedly intense stare. “This universe is an offshoot of my own. It is a limb, and when a limb becomes infected, it must be amputated.”
“Anapa, you’re freaking me out.” I backed away a few feet. “What happens if you cut us off?”
“You die.”
Chapter Thirty
Anapa returned me to the exact time and place he’d removed me from. Nik, Heru, Mari—everyone—were still frozen in this moment between moments.
I glanced at Nik and, frowning, asked the thing I’d been suspecting since Anapa first pulled me out of time. “He claimed he could hear Re . . . in his head, I mean.” I looked at Anapa. “He was right, wasn’t he?”
“It is possible,” Anapa said. “Though I have not communicated with Re or any other Netjers since leaving our universe, so I cannot say for certain.”
But it was possible, which was more than I’d been willing to believe before. I vowed to apologize to Nik, to do what I could to make things right between us—later. I still had work to do.
Gravel crunching under my boots, I made my way to, well, me. I stood face to face with my physical body, feeling like a million years had passed since I was that woman. I rubbed my temples, immensely relieved to be rid of that god-awful noise, and stretched my neck, cracking first one side, then the other.
“How do I get back inside me?” I asked, pointing to the frozen version of myself standing a few yards away.
“Just touch yourself, and you will find yourself returned to your body,” Anapa told me.
I snorted a laugh. “Just touch myself?” Dude needed to brush up on his earth lingo. Shaking my head, I reached out for my own—my other own—hand.
And in a blink, my view of the world flipped around.
“So, what now?” I asked, making my way back to Anapa.
“I have taken you as far as I can,” he said, wandering up the driveway.
I fell in step beside him.
“The rest is up to you.” He glanced at me sidelong and seemed to be hiding a smirk. “I would wish you luck, Katarina Dubois, but I do not believe you will need it.” And before I could ask him what the hell that was supposed to mean, he vanished.
At the exact same moment time restarted.
There were shouts, and I glanced at Nik to see him looking around in confusion. To him, I wasn’t where I was supposed to be. To all of them, it must’ve looked like I’d teleported.
Making a split-second decision, I took off at a dead sprint up the driveway, heading straight for the cabin back behind the house. I had to make sure Charlene was truly alright. Only then could I worry about the rest of the world.
Heru and his entourage were busy wondering what had just happened—how I’d “teleported” and who that man with me had been. Their voices were clamorous, but one stood out among them. “Kat!” Nik called after me. “Kat! Wait!”
But I ignored him.
When I reached the cabin, I was relieved to find the door unlocked. I barreled inside, then froze in my tracks.
Charlene and Samuel were sitting in the armchairs near the fireplace, keeping warm with a crackling fire. And Garth was there, too, crouching near the hearth as he added another log to the fire. Charlene had an afghan blanket draped over her legs and a mug in her hands, and Samuel was sitting on the edge of his seat, his elbow resting on his knees. All three stared at me with stunned expressions.
“Kat?” Garth said, abandoning the log and standing. “You—”
I held out a hand in apology. “Garth, I—” I hadn’t been prepared to see him, though I realized I should’ve expected him to be there. “I’m sorry, I—I just had to make sure—”
Charlene stood, placing her mug on the side table beside her chair. She looked terribly weak. The illness had taken a lot out of her, and her body’s recovery wouldn’t come as quickly as her soul’s had.
“No, don’t stand,” I said as I reached for the doorknob behind me, intending to make a quick exit. She was alright; I’d seen it with my own eyes. That was all I’d needed. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I should go.”
/> “I know you,” Charlene said, then cleared her throat. “How—” Her eyebrows bunched together. “You were in my dreams. You were sitting at my bedside.” Her eyes searched my face. “You were trying to save me. Or you did—you did something, and it . . .” She shook her head, wonder lighting her eyes. “It worked. In my dream, you saved my life.” She took a step away from the chair, her legs so wobbly I doubted they’d hold her much longer.
“Please,” I urged, “sit down.” I had no clue how she’d seen what she had, but I had a pretty good feeling that her falling and smacking her head on the floor wasn’t something she’d recover from so easily.
But, apparently, Charlene had a stubborn streak, because she remained standing. “It wasn’t just a dream, was it?”
I swallowed roughly. “I—” I had absolutely no idea how to explain anything that had happened over the past few hours, and with the Cascade Virus making humans drop like flies all over the country—likely the world, at this point—I hardly had the time to figure it out right now. “I have to go,” I said, turning to the door.
“Wait,” Charlene said. “Please, my daughter . . . help her, too?”
I let my forehead fall against the wood of the door with a dull thunk. Now Cassie was sick? Would this nightmare never end?
And yet, much as I wanted to rush in and save the girl, even the minute or two it would take to cure her would result in hundreds, maybe thousands more deaths around the world. Possibly enough to tip the scales so far that Anapa would decide our universe was unsalvageable.
Cassie had only just fallen ill, which meant I had plenty of time. Eons compared to the timeline I’d been working with in regard to Charlene. I’d just have to get to saving Cassie when I figured out how to save the rest of the damn world. If I figured it out.
I slammed my fist against the door. I hated this, every damn second of it. I hated being the sucker who couldn’t say no. I hated that my reckless decisions in the past had left me with a soul riddled with both At and anti-At. I hated that I only had myself to blame for me becoming the universe’s damn chosen one.
“Uh . . . Kat?” Garth said from yards behind me. I could hear his footsteps bringing him closer.
“What?” I said, voice barely a whisper.
“You—you’re glowing.”
Chapter Thirty-One
I turned my head to the left and stared at my fist. Sure enough, my skin was covered in a shimmering, multihued glow. The colors moved over my skin, in a constant state of flux.
I straightened from the door, bringing my hand closer to my face. “Soul-energy,” I whispered. It was like I’d somehow brought it back with me from Duat. Or was I channeling it? Is this what had made Anapa smirk? Had he known?
“Let us in,” the echoing voices whispered through my mind, one voice standing out beyond the others. One I couldn’t help but recognize—my mom’s voice. “Let us guide you.”
My eyes teared up. “Mom?”
“Kat?” There was concern in Garth’s voice.
“We can help you. You don’t need to do this alone. Let us in . . .”
I closed my eyes and bowed my head.
“Kat, what’s going on?”
I ignored Garth and his endearing concern, because right now, with the voices of collective soul-energy whispering through my mind and the impossible task set before me, it seemed like the most insignificant thing in the world. Sure, I may have accidently cured Charlene, but I had no idea how to save everyone else. I needed all the help I could get, and if that included a whole mass of disembodied souls, so be it.
“Alright,” I breathed. “Show me what you got.”
Gasps filled the room, and when I raised my eyelids, I had to squint against the glow of my own skin. It was as though I’d been lit on fire, but the flames burned in every color imaginable. I could feel the soul-energy dancing through me, giddy with its eagerness to help. It twined with the power filtering through my sheut, coaxing more to filter into me. To strengthen me.
I lowered my hand and met Charlene’s wide-eyed stare. I was no longer seeing with my eyes alone, but also with the collective’s. Samuel and Charlene’s auras glowed gently compared to Garth’s brilliant golden aura. We were all connected, through the collective. We were all made of soul-energy, even Garth, originally. Even me. That mattered, though I wasn’t sure why.
“Yes, I’ll help your daughter,” I told Charlene, speaking not only with my voice but with the collective’s. “I’ll help them all.” And I could; I knew it. With the collective’s help, I could see the path that would lead us out of the darkness.
“Kat?” Garth sounded unsure.
“Yes,” I said. “And no.” Without another word, I opened the door and stepped out onto the porch.
Nik stood at the bottom of the steps, Heru just behind him, and Mari, Mei, and the others hanging back a short ways. Heru backed up a few paces as soon as I emerged. But not Nik.
He moved closer, if hesitantly. “Kitty Kat?” His brows were drawn together, and concern shone in his eyes. He reached for my hand, and the moment he made contact, his golden aura flared.
I jerked my hand away.
“Kat?” There was less certainty in his voice now.
I studied him for a moment longer, curious about the way his aura had reacted to touching mine, and then I scanned the crowd. Mei and Mari stood arm in arm, but their auras maintained a normal intensity—no flaring up.
Logic told me it was the collective’s presence that caused the reaction in Nik, but the collective itself seemed to think otherwise. “Harmony,” the uncountable voices whispered excitedly. “Resonance.” Their excitement escalated, their chorus of voices growing to a dull roar.
I squeezed my eyes shut and rubbed my temples with my fingertips. “Stop it!” I hissed. “Please. I can’t think with all of you talking over each other like that.” I inhaled and exhaled deeply. “Don’t get me wrong—I’m glad for the help, but I need you to let me take the reins and be quiet.”
Nik retreated a couple steps. “Kat?” he repeated.
I took another deep breath, then lowered my hands and opened my eyes. “I’m sorry, Nik. I’m so sorry. You were right all along, the transformations are harming ma’at . . . but not as much as the Cascade Virus is.”
“I—” Brow furrowed, Nik shook his head. “How do you know that?”
“Anapa—the Visitor—showed me. I saw the damage, Nik. I heard it. And I know how to fix it, how to stop the Cascade Virus, but there’s no time to explain. You can either help me or get the hell out of my way.” I surveyed the wary Nejeret faces beyond Nik. I was speaking to all of them. “Don’t try to stop me. You won’t survive it.”
As I descended the porch steps and started down the pathway back to the driveway, what do you know—everyone moved out of my way. Good. I hadn’t actually wanted to kill any of them, but to prevent the end of the universe—yeah, I sure as hell would’ve sent a few more Nejerets to Aaru.
Formulating my plan, I recalled a rock wall surrounding the vegetable garden out in front of the house. That would do nicely. The collective agreed.
Moving as efficiently and as quickly as possible, I started transferring stones from the rock wall to the broadest part of the driveway. I could see it all so clearly in my head, but none of that would do any good until I completed the design I was envisioning.
As I returned from dropping off my seventh and eighth stones, I passed Nik on my way back to the rock wall. He had three rocks cradled in his arms. I paused, feeling a rush of gratitude. He was helping. Which meant he believed in me. Possibly even had forgiven me. In my mind, the collective whispered about harmonies and resonances. I blocked them out and continued to the rock wall.
Mari and Mei joined in next, then Heru and his small army of Nejerets. I directed them all to stack the stones in a pile near the design I was forming on the driveway. It was as much as I could allow them to help; the magic wouldn’t work if the symbol was shaped by any hands other than mine.
I stepped away from the actual rock-hauling to move stones from the pile, placing each in precisely the right spot. It didn’t take long until someone caught on to the design taking shape on the driveway, and I wasn’t the least bit surprised that it was Heru. It was an ancient symbol of his, after all.
Heru placed an armful of stones on the mound, then straightened and looked at me. “It’s a Wedjat,” he said, using the ancient name for the symbol commonly known as the Eye of Horus. The same symbol that was tattooed on my left palm. The same symbol that, when drawn by my hand, would create a powerful protection ward. If the collective was right, this enormous version of the symbol would be strong enough to heal the world.
Heru laughed, shook his head, then returned to hauling stones.
It took maybe fifteen minutes to get the giant Eye of Horus laid out on the gravel driveway. I couldn’t even begin to guess how many human souls had fallen to the disease during that time, but based on the fact that we were all still alive and the universe wasn’t crumbling around us, not enough to convince Anapa that cutting ties with our universe was a necessity. There was still time, and where there was time, there was hope.
Once the last stone was in place—part of the pupil within the eye—I stood up and arched my back in a stretch, scanning the watching Nejerets. Samuel and Garth were out here now, too, along with two older folks, a man and a woman I assumed to be Garth’s grandparents. I offered them all a solemn wave, then turned to Nik.
“Hey, Nik,” I called, waving him over. “I need your help . . . please.”
The corner of his mouth lifted, and he picked his way across the symbol to reach me. “Please?” he said, stopping a few feet away. “Alright, who body-snatched you, and how do I get my Kitty Kat back?”
I clutched my chest. “Aw . . . you care. I’d give a shit if I had any left to give.” I snapped my fingers. “But shucks, I’m all out.” I flashed him a cheeky grin, relieved to be back on familiar ground.
Nik chuckled, some of the tension leaving his features. Looked like we were both relieved. “What do you need me to do?” he asked, straight to business. Perfect.
The Kat Dubois Chronicles: The Complete Series (Echo World Book 2) Page 52
