Recreated (45 page)

She reached me and ran her ice-cold fingertip from my temple down to my jaw. Her breath smelled of death, decay, and despair. She was the absence of all things bright, good, and strong. I wanted to flinch, but something inside me demanded that I hold my ground, knowing that looking away would be a mistake.

The Devourer whispered, “You see, we are the things that go bump in the night.” Her voice was as frigid as the blackest abyss in the deepest ocean. Goose bumps peppered my neck. “We are the tingles you feel creeping up your spine. We are the secret fears of your heart. Always disquieting, always disturbing, and always seeking your demise.”

When she trailed her finger down to my heart, I felt it flutter. She paused, a triumphant smile on her face. “Even you can feel it,” she stated. “Your heart knows the power I hold over it.”

Her smile faltered. “But wait,” she said, her brow lowering in reflection. “I nearly forgot. There's more than one heart here, isn't there.”

I froze, panicked that she knew about Tia and Ashleigh, but then she shifted my leather harness and found the heart scarab. “It's weak now,” she said. “I nearly missed it.”

The Devourer stroked the jeweled carapace of the scarab. If I'd had control of my arms, I would have shoved her away. Her touch felt like defilement. “Perhaps
this
is why I was never able to fully drain him. Hmm…I wonder if the spell of the cauldron would have even worked, then. What a challenge,” she said brightly, and then patted my cheek patronizingly. “I so look forward to breaking you, my dear.”

She turned and began whispering instructions to her Minotaur slave. As she did so, I relaxed enough that a single tear escaped my eye.
This is it. Something must've happened to Ahmose and Asten.
I was feeling so sorry for myself that I nearly missed the sparkling dark mist that hovered on the outskirts of the demons. My eyes glued to the shape. It enveloped a demon completely, and when it passed over the place where the beast had once stood, there was nothing. Not even its brother demons close by had noticed that he'd gone missing.

How long had Ahmose and Asten been quietly working? Doing some quick calculations, I could see there were significantly fewer demons than there had once been. It wouldn't be long before the Devourer would spot the difference. I needed to buy them more time. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to think of anything.

The stench of godlings fills my nostrils!
the jackal leader cried.
I cannot see them, but they are here.

“What?” the queen demanded. “Who is here?”

The ones she traveled with.

In a fit of rage, the Devourer grabbed hold of the jackal's muzzle and inhaled. Green light glowed from the creature's face as tendrils of gray smoke trickled out of his nostrils. The jackal whined miserably, vainly attempting to wriggle his way out of her grip.

She took a deep breath, drawing in the smoke, and then closed her mouth. “Mindless dog!” she spat as she tossed him aside. “Why didn't you think to tell me of this?”

The defeated creature cowered, tail between his legs, and lowered his head until his nose touched the earth.
We did not think them important,
he said.
You only mentioned keeping watch for the girl.

“You thickheaded mongrel. Am I the only one in the netherworld with a brain? They are the Sons of Egypt!” she screamed. “Go! Find them! Bring them to me!”

The pack began barking wildly and headed toward the scent that assailed their nostrils. Though Asten and Ahmose were hidden in Asten's magic, the pack soon found the source. They barked and yipped triumphantly as they danced around the mist. Those that entered were quickly tossed out, their bodies broken.

The smoke dissipated and two golden gods emerged. Asten, adorned with bronze armor that mirrored the shade of his glow-in-the-dark eyes, raised his bow, firing his diamond-tipped arrows into the pack and taking down six jackals in quick succession.

Ahmose, his armor as pale as silvery moonlight, lifted his gleaming ax and cudgel and raised his voice in a battle cry. Between the two of them, the pack couldn't get so much as a bite in. The queen watched the fight, incredulous that the two brothers could keep the jackals at bay for so long. Then I caught her assessing gaze. Her nostrils flared and I knew she was scenting their hearts. Their very immortal, very powerful hearts.

A smile spread across her red lips. “Tear her limbs from her body!” she shouted to her minions loudly enough to make Asten and Ahmose pause. Both brothers stopped and, as one, took to the sky. The Devourer watched their progress with fixed attention.

One of Asten's arrows zoomed forward, headed for the queen's head, but she stood her ground, calmly, placidly, and barely took note as her Minotaur henchman caught it in his bare hand and broke the shaft in half. Meanwhile, the demons holding me began to pull.

The strength of the sphinx was the only reason I wasn't immediately ripped apart, but the action swiftly brought tears to my eyes. I knew I didn't have enough strength to stop them for long. She'd tear me in two, then suck the energy from my heart and the marrow from my bones, and Egyptian heaven help me, there wasn't a blessed thing I could do to stop her.

Amon stumbled toward me, stretching out his hands once again, like he wanted in on the action. His face held no emotion. No sign that he was aware of what he was doing. He moved like a zombie obsessed with a juicy brain. Lifting his hand to my arm, he ran it up and over the hands of the demons holding me.

They paused, confused.

The Devourer laughed. “How appropriate that you should be broken asunder by the one you love. What a terribly delicious emotion to swallow. I'll save that luscious treat for last.”

Amon turned to her as if asking permission. The demons, breathing heavily around me, waited to see what she wanted to do.

She waved her hand at Amon as if encouraging her little boy to go play in a sandbox. “Go on,” she urged. “Pull her arm off.”

Amon faced me again. Tears coursed down my cheeks as I watched him, wishing I could say goodbye properly, could see his loving gaze just one more time.

Something changed.

I got my wish.

Beads of sweat stood out on his forehead, a sign of monumental effort, though he'd barely moved in the last ten minutes. He raised his head and I saw not only recognition, but also something more. He licked his lips, his weak voice cracking as he tried to speak. It was just one word, but in it I found hope.

“Lily,” he said. His piercing green eyes locked on to mine, his hand sliding over my arm to my shoulder where he cupped the heart scarab. If my arms hadn't been held, I would have placed my hands against his cheeks and kissed him. Heat burned where his palm lay, and when he backed away, a smile crossed his face before he collapsed to the ground.

“Amon!” I cried, but immediately, heat from my shoulder spread across my chest and down my body. I flicked my arms and the demons holding me flew away, like water shaken off a tiger's back. In my hand a gleaming green shield formed and armor encased my body, each segment snapping into place. The heart scarab had shifted and now sat at my waist like a belt. Renewed power surged through my limbs, and I knew it had come from Amon. He'd given me what little remained of his energy.

I panicked, thinking he'd died, but as soon as I saw Asten's flying arrows and heard the smack of Ahmose's cudgel impacting a demon, I knew he was still with us, if barely. I made a vow right then to use Amon's gift to save him. What it had cost him to break free of the hold of the Devourer was not something I wanted to think about. The queen, obscured by the rising cloud of her living cloak, shouted to her minions to seize us.

When the demons returned, I kicked the giant cauldron, knocking it over and spilling its abominable contents all over the ground. The creatures stepped into the viscous substance, screaming an unholy, piercing sound that was soon cut off as the black tar closed over their forms, melting their flesh and leaving nothing but misshapen bone behind.

I summoned the wind. It poured over the iron wall and stormed around the demons with such ferocity that they staggered back, shielding their eyes from the grit and dust. The few that fought their way through to face me I strangled. My power was so strong that I could incapacitate three at a time, but killing them that way still took too long. While my attention was fixed on three, a jackal attacked. I crushed his skull between my gloved hands as if his head were a melon. Maintaining the wind kept all my attackers away from the place where I stood. Only the queen, her bodyguards, and Amon were within the circle of calm.

All around us was chaos.

With the deadly pool at my back, and Asten and Ahmose safely flying above the maelstrom picking off the other fighting demons, I felt confident enough to turn my full attention back to the queen.

Amon lay at my feet, unconscious but breathing. I looked up at the Devourer with narrowed eyes, making her out clearly despite the creatures shielding her, and drew my spears, which had been safely locked by the magic in the leather harness. Dashing toward her, I slashed, aiming for her neck, but she spun away at the last moment, nearly tripping on her tight silver gown.

Her gleaming crown tumbled from her head and rolled in my direction. Reaching my foot out, I stepped on its rim, halting it mid-roll. A bloodthirsty desire for her head to be the object beneath my foot flashed through my mind. “I guess this belongs to me now,” I bragged, jabbing the knife through the crown before I tossed it aside. Elongating one of my spear-knives, I drew my arm back and aimed for her heart.

“So much for your rule. Have a nice trip to wherever it is bad little queens like you go.”

The Devourer's body disappeared in a burst of winged creatures just as my spear tore clear through them. The bats were replaced by dozens of demons that had surged up from cracks in the ground. They rushed me. Just as I raised my remaining knife to defend myself, two bodies descended from the sky and met the group with a clang of weapons.

Asten had stowed his bow and now fought with his fallen brother's golden scimitars. We positioned ourselves so that Amon was protected in the center of our formed triangle. Facing outward, we protected each other's backs as we fought.

“Just take him and go!” I yelled as I speared an opponent through the throat. “I'll hold them off!”

“Can't do that, little lioness,” Asten said over his shoulder as he swung both scimitars in opposite directions, decapitating a demon. It disappeared in a cloud of dust. “We've got to kill her. If we do, Amon will gain his power back. If not, he might never recover.”

“Fine.”

The demons and what remained of the jackals, which the queen managed to funnel into our circle in the center of the storm, were still far too many in number and continued to rush us in a never-ending stream. The queen was nowhere in sight.

I instinctively raised my shield, and when I did, the heart scarab burned at my waist. A powerful burst of green light shot forward and felled dozens of creatures, their shrieks of agony echoing off the iron walls before they turned into clouds of dust. “That's handy,” I said, and attempted to use the power again as the next wave warily gathered around us.

Unfortunately, I couldn't figure out how to duplicate the process. Frustrated, I jabbed my emerald shield down into the sand and tossed aside my helmet. Asten had been able to recover my lost spear when a demon decided to use it as a weapon against him. He tossed it to me and I immediately felt better having both spear-knives.

There was definitely a side of me that thirsted to test myself in battle. I wanted to see the fear in my opponents' faces as I gutted them. It was much more satisfying up close rather than from the distance of a spear length, especially when killing the jackals.

“I liked you better with your bow,” Asten said with a backward glance as we waited for the next onslaught of demons.

The three of us breathed heavily. Even with the strength of a sphinx, I was tiring. The wind died down, and the demons that'd been pressed against the wall began making their way toward us. My chest rumbled in anticipation. “I prefer claws, actually, if given a choice.” It was Tia who'd risen to the surface to speak. The three of us had been acting harmoniously for the most part, but standing back to back with Asten had brought her out.

“I'll bet you do,” Asten said with a triumphant grin that was totally out of place but somehow made me smile. “Let's swing things a bit more in our favor, shall we?” He began murmuring a spell, and I thought the result would be his familiar cloud of obscurity. Instead, the entire arena was quickly bathed in starlight.

Stretching forth his hands, Ahmose joined his own power to the spell and the light increased tenfold. “Let's see if those who conspire in darkness scramble like roaches in the light of day,” he cried.

Their instincts were spot-on. The demons blinked and began groping around blindly, bumping into one another as they searched for us, leaving them much more vulnerable to attack. It evened the odds a bit. But the jackals still found us easily, snapping at our ankles and trying to separate the three of us.

We held our ground—that is, until the queen who didn't have the same problem with the light as her demons did performed some magic of her own. I caught sight of her standing just behind her Minotaur slave. His arms were folded and he wore a smug expression on his face, like he was enjoying the spectacle before him.

From the corner of my eye, I saw the queen's arms raised in the air. I got a very bad feeling and shuffled back a few steps.

“She's up to something! Watch out!” I warned.

The demons we'd killed had disappeared in a cloud of dust, but the jackals, being natural-born creatures of the netherworld and only dying their first death, lay piled up on the ground around our feet. Her spell was bringing them back to life.

Like zombie dogs, the jackal's limbs quivered and they slowly rose to their feet. Soon we were surrounded, fighting legions of undead jackals, and it wasn't until several agonizing moments later that we remembered the only way to bring them to a second death was to stab them in the heart.

Unfortunately, their hearts were not in the place one would expect. Through Ahmose's lucky strike, we quickly found out that the heart of a hellhound lay just beneath the thick ruff of their necks, a bony plate the only thing protecting it. He quickly shouted what we were to do after his undead jackal disappeared in a cloud of dust. The weapon had to be driven in at just the right place.

Ahmose was bitten savagely on his dominant arm, making it useless. I lost one of my spear-knives in the body of a jackal that went off to die his first death too far from my reach. Then, just as we thought things couldn't get worse, my wind power failed altogether, and newly arrived ghosts began to attack as well.

They rushed us in a crazed fury. Evidently our doggedness in battle warranted pulling in the second-stringers. They weren't as strong as their compatriots, but they still managed to yank my hair, scratch at my ankles, and bite my ears. Desperate to live, they did anything and everything they could to distract us. My determination was faltering. There was no possible way we could overcome them.

Then a glorious, ominous hum filled the air.

The reapers had arrived.

We still stood a chance.

As they descended by the dozens, their mandibles clacking, short scythes gleamed as they carved ghosts and jackals in two. But the jackals were quicker. They leapt into the air, taking down the reapers before they could swing.

When the reapers died their first deaths, they disappeared in a burst of light. I hoped that meant they'd be taken back to Isis, the goddess they still served. They deserved peace after all the suffering they'd endured in the netherworld. When the queen saw we were at a stalemate, she changed tactics and commanded all who remained in her army to target Amon. Though we'd tried to keep him at the center, in the course of battle we'd moved away from him. I cried out and made my way back in a desperate attempt to save his life. A demon with a face full of piercings lifted a wicked-looking cleaver, attempting to remove Amon's head from his body.

I knew there was no way for me to get to Amon in time. Asten was fighting off three jackals at once, and Ahmose was engaged in hand-to-hand combat with a thick-fisted demon three times his size.

I ran, leaping over jackals and ducking under swinging weapons. A fire blazed in my core. And then time slowed. The cleaver continued its downward arc, but it only moved a fraction of an inch at a time.

One moment I was running, and the next I'd come to a complete stop.

A cacophony of voices filled my mind. They screamed. Roared. Begged. Then, like gears fitting into place, I felt a snap.

One…two…three.

My body lifted into the air as if I weighed less than a cloud. Light shot across my vision and overhead I saw three shooting stars rocketing toward each other, their tails arcing across the sky in a symbol I'd seen before—the impossible triangle.

When the stars reached their destinations, the light burst in a showering display, raining down upon the entire theater. No one below appeared to notice the phenomena and as I regarded them, they looked so tiny and powerless. The bright fragments touched my skin and I absorbed them. I closed my eyes, taking in a deep, cleansing breath and allowing the weight of my corporeal form to float me back to the ground.

My feet touched lightly upon the battlefield and I moved among the demons and warriors like a ghost, unseen and untouchable. When I exhaled, the scene around me jerked haltingly, awkwardly, as if the players on the field were more like puppets, ones I could manipulate if I could just find the strings.

The stars had given me a gift.

I knew what to do.

I knew how to control them.

Smiling, I tilted my head as I considered the demon ready to strike Amon. A name bubbled up in my mind, filling me with a sense of power. Calmly, fluidly, I spoke, and the sound resonated like a cannon on a battlefield.

“He Who Wields a Sharp Knife,” I cried. The demon froze in place, his cleaver suspended as he turned to me.

“Set down your weapon,” I said gently. Immediately, he obeyed. “Sit down and do not move.”

To my surprise, he did. Turning, I peered at the monster fighting Ahmose. Another name floated up into my consciousness. “Raging Hippo,” I said calmly. “Stop. You will fight no longer.” One by one, I repeated the process, shouting name after name. “Serpent of Mud,” I cried. “He Who Dances in Blood, Teeth of the Wax Crocodile, He Who Burns with Fire, Worms Devour Him, Inert Rebel, He Who Eats Snakes, you will cease fighting immediately.”

Once I'd named all the demons, I turned to the jackals. “Carrion Eater, Crushed Paw, Stump Tail, Eye That Sees Nothing, Biting Flea, Offal Eater, Tufted Ear…” I went on and on, naming each creature that struggled against us. When I reached the leader of the jackals, I closed my eyes and then opened them with a smile. “He Who Voids His Bladder in the Wind.” The head jackal whined, lowering his head. His pack snarled at him softly. “Sit!” I commanded in an authoritative voice. Each obeyed.

The queen screamed in rage, her pretty face souring as she stormed at me. Ahmose and Asten flanked my sides, their weapons raised. Above us the remaining reapers hovered, black cloaks rippling in the hot wind.

The smell of death overwhelmed me as I watched the Devourer approach. I felt no fear. No emotion except curiosity. Some other force pulled this one's strings. Cocking my head, names rose in my mind.

I pointed to her and said, “The Eater of Hearts. The Queen of Gluttony.”

She staggered but recovered quickly. Those names belonged to her. I knew it. Yet there was an element missing. Some part of her I'd overlooked.

She spat furiously, “How do you, a mere human girl, know of the names in the Book of the Amduat?” she demanded. “No mortal has ever had access to it. Only my master and I know the secret names of those recorded there.”

The queen of the netherworld took a step closer and I licked my lips, attempting to compel her as I had the others. “Stop,” I said.

Her eyes widened but she then smiled, realizing she could still move. “Did you think to best me in my own realm?” she laughed, confidence growing with each step. “You might have control over these mindless underlings but not over me and not over the one I serve.”

“Seth,” I murmured.

“Yes. The barrier is thin now. He's nearly able to break through, and there's nothing you or your pathetic Sons of Egypt can do to stop it.” She took in our surroundings and clucked her tongue. “And just look at what you've done to my immaculate home.”

“You destroyed my home,” I hissed, thinking of Amon and the Turquoise Forest at the same time. “We destroyed yours.” I waved my arm, indicating the death surrounding us. “I'd say we're even. Or we will be, once we finish you off.”

The Devourer laughed. “You can do no such thing. I'm the Queen of Hearts, remember?” She took a step forward. “And last time I checked”—she bared white teeth, a feral gleam twinkling in her eyes—“you all had one.”

She snapped her fingers and the white Minotaur, her only remaining loyal servant, stepped forward. “Yes, my queen?” he said.

“Bring me her heart.”

A fiendish look of delight lit the frightening contours of his face. Asten and Ahmose raised their weapons and charged, but he batted them aside like flies. They looked beyond exhausted. When the reapers tried to intervene, he unfurled the qilinbian and cracked the whip.