The Kat Dubois Chronicles: The Complete Series (Echo World Book 2)

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  Isfet released Joju and lifted the hem of her long, silky white shift as she carefully picked her way over exposed roots toward me. “Greetings, Katarina. You have come a long way to see me,” she said as she approached, Joju trailing behind her. “And no doubt you have sacrificed much. Tell me, what has happened to bring you here in such a state?”

  My head felt too heavy for my neck, but I somehow managed to find the strength to hold it up enough that I could look Isfet in the eyes. “The Mother of All,” I said between heaving breaths, “and the Netjers—the makers—they’re here.” I swallowed roughly. “And they want to destroy us.”

  “Mother . . .” Fear flashed through Isfet’s eyes, but it quickly gave way to rage. She stopped directly in front of me, Joju hanging back a few steps. “Show me,” she said, reaching out her hand.

  My shoulders sagged; I was immensely relieved at not having to actually explain everything that had happened over the past couple weeks with words. Gods, I was tired. With a sigh, I raised my hand and placed it in hers.

  The sensation of Isfet rummaging through my mind was far less uncomfortable than it had been when Iusaset had done the same. But I could still feel her, sifting through my thoughts and memories, analyzing my innermost feelings. And while her mind wasn’t as open to me as Iusaset’s had been, I could glean a few pertinent things from the surface.

  Like the fact that she was afraid—terrified, actually. She feared she wouldn’t be strong enough to beat the Mother of All. Her mother. The being who had given her life, only to lock her away moments later. Despite her immense power and virtually infinite capabilities, Isfet’s potential had long gone unrealized. The vast majority of her existence had been limited to this grove, her only experiences of the greater universe coming from the few seconds she’d had pre-Aaru and the things Joju had shared with her later, after he’d joined Isfet in her eternal prison.

  But despite it all, she had the spirit of a warrior. Neither her sheltered existence nor her fear of the Mother of All would keep her from defending this universe as best she could. I admired her tenacity.

  Without warning, Isfet withdrew from my mind. She released my hand, offered me a small smile, and bowed her head gracefully. I couldn’t help but wonder if she knew what I’d seen . . . if she knew that I’d felt her fear.

  “I must apologize,” she said, raising her head to look at me once more. “I did not trust you entirely before. I did not believe you would put this universe first, before even your own life. I did not understand that you would sacrifice yourself to save all that you hold dear. I could not see that we are the same in that, and that your intentions are the purest of all”—she held out both of her hands to me—“and for that, Katarina, I must ask your forgiveness.”

  I stared at her, stunned by her words. Numbly, I placed my hands in hers.

  “I swear to you, Katarina, I will do everything in my part to ensure that you and your bond-mate survive the coming battle,” she said, gripping my hands tightly.

  “But—” I shook my head slowly, not willing to get my hopes up only to have them dashed away. “But I thought the only way to free you from Aaru was for me to, you know, become you.” The echo-dream had been pretty clear about that; in order to escape, Isfet would merge with my soul, and once Nik pulled me—us—out of Aaru, she would complete the transformation, taking me over, body and soul. In time, there wouldn’t be anything left of me. There would only be Isfet.

  “That was then,” Isfet said, “before I trusted you . . . before I understood you.” She offered me a gentle smile. “But there is another way. A slower way, but ultimately, I believe, a better way.”

  I raised my eyebrows, silently asking her to go on. Until this moment, I’d all but accepted my fate; I was ready and willing to make the necessary sacrifice to save the universe and everyone I loved. But if there was a way for me to come out of all of this as, well, me—if there was a way for me to survive and have a chance to truly reunite with Nik—I was all for it.

  “I will become one with your ba,” Isfet explained, “but only long enough for your bond-mate to pull us out of this dreadful place. Once we are free, I will leave you on Earth and return to the seed of the universe”—she turned to look over her shoulder at the massive, silvery tree filling the clearing behind her—“to the place from whence all the universe was born. From whence I was born. There, I will merge with the seed and reunite with ma’at, becoming one with my body and my soul, and once I am whole again, I will return to you at full strength to battle the Mother of All.”

  I frowned. Under the burst of elation I felt at hearing this new plan, I sensed there was a “but” coming.

  “But,” Isfet said, right on cue, “while I am away, you will be left to fend for yourself.”

  I swallowed roughly. “For how long?” I could probably hold off the Netjers from destroying my world for a few minutes . . . and the Mother of All for a few seconds at most.

  Isfet’s brow furrowed, and she shook her head. “I do not understand time as you do.” She pressed her lips together, just the hint of a conciliatory smile. “Not too long, I hope.” Her smile turned genuine. “But the universe will not be undefended.” She released my left hand and touched her palm to my cheek. “For it will have you.”

  I tried to return her smile, but my heart wasn’t in it.

  “We must make haste,” she said, removing her hand from my face. “Are you ready?”

  I gulped, then nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Right before my eyes, Isfet blurred around the edges, slowly dissolving into a fine, glittering mist. Her hands faded away, then her arms and legs, then her body and, finally, her face. The gemstone blue of her eyes faded last, and that shimmering, glittery mass floated closer to me.

  I sucked in a breath, my entire body stiffening as Isfet melted into me.

  And just like that, she was gone. There was nothing left of her. Because she was inside me.

  I stumbled to the side, leaning a shoulder against the nearest birch tree. I could feel Isfet shifting around inside me, settling in. And between one heartbeat and the next, she molded herself to the shape of my soul, until all I could feel of her was the gentle tingle of her awareness.

  Behind me, I could hear the others whispering. Dom’s voice stood out; he was speaking in hushed tones, louder than the others. “ . . . ready. It is time.”

  I rolled against the tree until my back was against it and I could see Dom. He was holding up the compact mirror in front of his face. It took me a moment to realize that he had to be talking to Nik.

  Not a second later, I felt a breath-stealing tug on my heart.

  I doubled over, gasping for breath.

  The tug came again, stronger this time, like someone was trying to yank my heart straight out through my ribcage.

  I dropped to my knees, hands clutching my chest. I recognized this new agony. I’d felt it once before. Nik was trying to pull me out of Aaru.

  But knowing that did nothing to dull the pain, and I pressed my hands against my sternum as hard as I could, trying to hold myself together.

  Mari appeared in front of me, skidding to a stop. She opened her mouth to speak, hands reaching.

  Again, I felt that tug on my heart, stronger than before. Time stopped, leaving Mari frozen before me.

  This was it. I was on my way out.

  I looked at Mari, realizing that I would never see her again . . . at least not while I was alive. I would never be able to say thank you to her or goodbye, or anything at all. I would never see any of the people who’d worked so hard to get me to this point, not until the day I died for good.

  Which, I thought grimly, very well could be today.

  But then Mari and the wintery woods and the great tree in the clearing all disappeared, and I was yanked out of Aaru.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I’d been brought back to life a few times now, and each time was different. This time, it was a slow, gradual process, like my soul needed
a moment to shift around and fit itself back into my body just so. Isfet was already gone, off to do her reintegration thing with the seed of the universe. I could feel my heart beating—my real heart, not the phantom heart I’d been feeling while in Aaru—and I could feel my lungs drawing in slow, deep breaths. Now that I had an actual, physical body again, I realized that the sensations in Aaru had been dim, watered-down reflections of the real thing.

  “Kitty Kat?” Nik said. “Can you hear me?”

  The daze of being revived wore off quickly, and my mind caught up to what had just happened. I was alive . . . on earth . . . with Nik. That last part caused my heartbeat to speed up and my breaths to come more quickly. Or, at least, my lungs tried to expand and contract faster, but something was forcing air into them, then sucking it back out.

  My eyes snapped open, and I clawed at my throat. Something was in there, and I couldn’t breathe right. It was suffocating me. My eyes watered, tears sneaking out of the outer corners and dripping across my temples.

  “Shit,” Nik hissed. He captured my wrists and pushed them into the pillow on either side of my head. His face was suddenly right in front of mine. This was the moment I’d been longing for, but all I could do was choke on the damn breathing tube that had been shoved down my windpipe.

  “Cough,” Nik ordered. “And I’ll pull the tube out.”

  After the next forced inhale, I coughed as enthusiastically as I could, and I felt the unnatural sensation of something huge and hard being pulled out of my throat. It almost felt like my entire esophagus was coming out with the breathing tube. But then it was gone, and I was free to breathe on my own.

  I rolled onto my side, my body curling into the fetal position instinctively as I coughed and coughed and coughed some more. I coughed so hard I thought I might throw up. My body must’ve been healing the minor cuts and abrasions in my throat caused by the breathing tube, because it itched something fierce and coughing seemed to be an involuntary response. I couldn’t stop, and it was throwing me into a whole new bout of near suffocation.

  “You can do it, Kitty Kat,” Nik said, one hand gripping my arm, the other rubbing my back. “You can do it—just breathe. Come on . . . breathe for me.”

  Finally, I managed to catch my breath—thankfully, before I passed out from a lack of oxygen. After a few deep, blissful breaths, I rolled toward Nik, throwing my arms around him and burying my face against his neck.

  He gripped me tightly with one arm, his lips pressed against the side of my head, just an inch or two from my ear. “Fuck, I missed you,” he whispered.

  I squeezed him harder. “I know,” I said, voice rough. “Me too.” And not just because I could already feel the bonding withdrawals slowly lessening as I greedily absorbed his unique bonding pheromones.

  Too soon for my liking, Nik pulled away just enough to give me a good view of his face. He looked like hell. His skin was covered in dirt, dust, and what appeared to be smudges of dried blood, and tear tracks cut a clean path through the grime on his cheeks.

  My eyes widened as fear took root within my chest. “What’s going on, Nik?”

  His lips curved into a sad half smile. “I’m so sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “I held out as long as I could . . .”

  Only then did it really sink in that Nik was only holding me with one arm. I realized belatedly that he was only holding me with one arm because the other was thrust out to the side, his hand pressed against a solid sheet of At.

  Through the semiopaque barrier, I could see a face, its elongated Netjer features locked in a ferocious grimace, both of its hands pressed against the At. It was one of the Mother’s Netjer assassins. It had to be.

  My lips parted, and I sucked in a shaky breath. The Netjer was trying to get through. And it was growing clearer and more distinct by the second. Because the barrier was thinning.

  “I love you, Kitty Kat,” Nik said, drawing my attention back to him. “I love you so fucking much.” He crushed his lips against mine, then broke the kiss, his stare intense. “Give ’em hell for me.”

  I searched his pale blue eyes, not understanding. “Nik, I—”

  But I didn’t have the chance to tell him I loved him too, let alone the chance to ask him why it sounded frighteningly like he was saying goodbye.

  The barrier fell, and Nik pushed away from me, turning to face off with the Netjer. Or rather, he started to turn.

  Nik’s eyes widened as a spike of At burst out of his chest.

  Hot blood sprayed all over me, and I flinched, but I couldn’t look away. My brain couldn’t process what was happening. I just sat there on the bed, eyes locked with Nik’s, watching the light fade from his pale blue irises.

  At spread out from the spike, covering Nik’s chest like a layer of ice. It moved down his torso and up his neck, covering his entire body in a matter of seconds.

  Between one heartbeat and the next, the At encasing Nik exploded into a fine, shimmering dust.

  As the dust settled, I expected to see him standing there, good as new. At couldn’t hurt him. It was his thing—he could make it do whatever he wanted it to do. He controlled it.

  But he wasn’t standing there anymore. He wasn’t there at all.

  Because he’d been a part of the At explosion. Because he was gone, his body little more than At dust sprinkled on the floor. Because he was dead.

  Because he was in Aaru.

  And I was left behind, sitting on the bed where I’d first awoken, covered in his blood, staring at the place where he’d been just a moment ago.

  Staring at the thing that had killed him.

  The Netjer assassin took a step toward me, murder in its eyes.

  “No,” I said, holding up my hand. My voice was calm, steady. Eerily so.

  The Netjer froze, and not because it wanted to. Because I’d told it to. Because I’d made it stop.

  I tilted my head to the side, studying the Netjer through narrowed eyes. Something had happened to me when Isfet merged with my soul. Something unfelt and unseen. Something I hadn’t noticed until this exact moment. It was like merging with Isfet for that brief time had awakened some latent part of my mind. It was like some piece of her fathomless understanding of the universe remained with me.

  I understood my powers now. I knew everything that I could do. And I knew that Anapa had been right all those weeks ago when he’d claimed that I might just be more powerful than a Netjer. Hell yeah, I was. And as I faced down Nik’s murderer, I was more than ready to prove it.

  Eyes locked with the Netjer’s, I closed my hand into a fist and twisted my wrist.

  Lightning flashed in the Netjer’s alien eyes. And then it exploded into a mass of smoke and sparks, like a small, self-contained thunderstorm.

  After a few seconds, the storm faded away until, just like Nik, nothing remained of the Netjer. Because I’d done something I’d believed only the Mother of All capable of—and maybe Isfet, too. I’d killed a Netjer. An energy being. I’d snuffed out its spark. I’d ended it.

  Numbly, I scooted off the bed and stood. I glanced down at myself; I was barefoot, wearing light gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt, both spattered with bright spots of crimson. With blood.

  Nik’s blood.

  In a daze, I headed for the room’s only door. Thanks to the check-ins with Nik, I knew where I was—Heru’s palace in the Oasis, in a room behind the great hall on the ground floor.

  I stopped in the doorway, feeling out of my body as I took in the grisly scene in the great hall. Remotely, as though I was looking through someone else’s eyes, I saw all of the bodies strewn about the room. With someone else’s nose, I smelled the metallic tang of blood. I spotted Aset’s body among the others, a hole ripped through her chest. Neffe was draped over a long dining table nearby, her head torn nearly clean off. It was with someone else’s heart that I felt a deep, gutting agony.

  Staring ahead, I picked my way over and around the bodies, eventually making my way outside. The dry earth was warm unde
r my bare feet, releasing the residual heat it had stored up during the day from the hot Sahara sun. But it was nighttime now.

  I blinked, raising my face to the sky. There was no moon tonight, and the stars were out in full force, the Milky Way a bright silver mass streaking across the sky.

  Dreamily, I realized I shouldn’t have been able to see the stars. The Netjers must have stripped the Oasis of its protective limestone and At barriers when they discovered my people were hiding down here.

  Losing interest in the night sky, I returned my attention to the horrors on the ground, scanning the land around me. Bodies littered the earth. So many bodies. Too many.

  My eyes landed on Nuin’s tomb, a small, gleaming building standing on its own nearer to the canal. The entrance was open. It was never open. Lex kept it sealed at all times, and not because the tomb contained the body of Re’s former host, Nuin; the maze of chambers surrounding the underground burial chamber contained her personal messages to Heru from the ancient past, line after line of her most personal thoughts and feelings etched into the walls. Only a few of us had ever been down there, back when she’d been stuck in ancient Egypt and we’d been trying to find a way to bring her home.

  Only three people could have unsealed the tomb’s At door: Nik, Lex, and me. Nik had been busy, and I’d been in Aaru. Which left Lex. And I could only think of one dreadful reason for why she would have unsealed the tomb and left it open. She’d been seeking refuge but had been caught before finding it.

  Pace steady but not rushed, I made my way across the Oasis to the tomb. I stopped when I reached the entrance, not needing to descend the steep steps to know what had happened. I could see all I needed to see from above. Lex was down there, with Heru and the kids. I could smell their blood. I could taste it on my tongue.

  The sight knocked me out of shock, and I blinked a few times, then stumbled backward. I missed the final step leading down from the tomb’s entrance and tripped, twisting to fall on my hip.

  I didn’t have the strength to stand up again, so I crawled a few yards, until my arms gave out and I slumped forward, face pressed against the sandy earth. Dry, wretched sobs racked my body as images of all I’d seen over the past few minutes flashed through my mind. As the memory of Nik’s death replayed, as clear as if it were happening all over again.