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Authors: Shawn Speakman

Unbound (31 page)

BOOK: Unbound
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"He's heading straight for us!" the beetle said.

Exactly. The creature's enormous wings made short work of the distance. He flew toward us at incredible speed.

"What should I do?" the beetle asked.

"Make evasive maneuvers."

The beetle's voice rose to panic pitch. "Make what?!"

"Fly weird!" I said. "That shouldn't be hard for you."

He did. He flew plenty weird. He darted side to side. He zigged. He zagged. He rose up and down. He carved loops. All of this was
before
the demon even reached us.

When it did, it just got crazier. The demon swooped in. Its massive beak snapped at us. It lunged and twisted, eyes fixed on us with murderous intent. The beetle flew so chaotically that he nearly pulled my arms from my sockets. I flailed about, legs going this way and that, barely able to hold on.

All of this happened in midair. From my perspective, the world below shifted and heaved as we moved. I tried not to think about that. What I needed to do, I knew, was sink one of my throwing knives into the beast. With all the motion, it wasn't going to be easy. My timing had to be perfect.

We corkscrewed between the demon's massive head and the flare of his wing. If I'd believed it was intentional, I'd have praised the beetle for his skills. Only, he was screaming like a maniac as he did it, so I doubted it was planned. We stalled out for a moment above the demon. I saw my chance.

I let go with one hand and, swinging one-armed, I yanked a dagger from its sheath. Quick as I could, I aimed at the demon's head as it turned to snap at us. I threw.

Would've been a good shot, except that the beetle zinged to the left at just the wrong time. My knife missed the demon. It flew end over end out of sight, falling to the earth.

"I had a clear shot!" I screamed.

The beetle babbled in response. He spoke so fast that he pounded words together in a way that made no sense at all. He kept at his crazy flying, and I grabbed my second knife.

The next time I got a shot I was upside down. The beetle was doing one of his somersaults. We were underneath the demon. As the beetle flipped to avoid him, I swung around. My feet touched the great bird's belly. I ran along it a few steps. I should've kicked him, but I was focused on using my knife. I aimed at the beast and threw.

Would've worked, except that my running feet got in the way. I kicked the knife before it sunk home. The blade careened away. I grabbed for it, but the beetle, in his wisdom, twisted around the demon and rose at a furious rate. Looking down at the demon as it beat its wings to rise with us, I considered my options.

I only had one knife left. I wasn't going to hit the fiend like this. The beetle was clearly exhausted. The way the demon was roaring up toward us, both the beetle and I were going to be demon food. If I was going to have any chance of hitting him, I had to be able to really aim at him. I knew what I had to do.

"Beetle," I said, "if you can, catch me before I splatter."

With that, I let go of his leg. I plummeted downward, toward the demon bird.

* * * * *

The force of the wind tore at me. It roared in my ears. But at least I was dropping in a direct line. I locked my legs beneath me and fell straight toward him, making my body as lean as possible. I tore my final knife free. I cocked my arm back, waiting for the perfect moment.

The demon bird couldn't have been happier. He pumped his wings even more furiously. His eyes bulged with anticipation of the treat that was about to drop into his gullet. The bird cranked open its enormous beak, so wide I could see right down his throat. That was the moment I wanted.

I hurled the knife downward, using every muscle in my body to zing it fast and true. It disappeared into the demon's throat. A direct hit. A few seconds later, I did the same thing.

It's not easy to describe the sensation that followed. For a moment, I slid down the slick tube of the bird's throat. I heard its beak snap shut with a crash, and for the briefest moment, I landed in the sopping, gooky blackness of its stomach. I can say with certainty that I know exactly what it feels like to get swallowed by a giant flying demon. It wasn't the first time something had swallowed me. The giant serpent Apep had me in his cavernous tummy for a while that time I had to save . . .

But that's a different story. I really should stay on topic.

So, I was swallowed by the beast, but only for a moment. My knife had done its work. It struck home to the creature's heart. As it died, the demon burst into a cloud of green smoke and then vanished. I was free. And in midair.

This time, I'll admit I didn't fall in a terribly graceful manner. I screamed bloody murder and slashed at the air with my arms and legs, as if I could somehow swim on the air. I couldn't. The world rushed up toward me. I picked out the exact spot I was going to get pulped, just a bit of barren ground, not a remarkable spot at all. I closed my eyes and awaited the impact.

There certainly was an impact, but it wasn't between me and the ground. Something slammed into my back with so much force it knocked the wind out of me. Six thin arms clamped around my chest. The beetle! He'd caught me! If I'd had the breath to, I would've shouted for joy. Instead, I just panted.

The beetle still flew in his chaotic style, but I didn't mind anymore. We were safe for the moment.

He skimmed over the palm trees and brought us in for a landing on the wide, smooth stones in front of the temple. My feet touched down, running. We gradually came to a stop. The beetle released me. I dropped to my knees, and then to all fours. The beetle flopped down on his back, arms limp, gasping for breath. For a time, neither of us did anything else.

I took stock of the situation. One bau down. One demon bird out of the picture. I was two for two so far. Only the magician himself remained, and I knew where he was. He was obviously the type of scoundrel that liked for others to do his dirty work. Even if he knew more magic than me--which I assumed he did--my combat magic would give him a run for his money. That was my specialty. I figured my chances were at least fifty-fifty. I could work with that. I'm the optimistic type.

When I had my breath back, I stood. The sun had just begun to emerge out of the eastern horizon. "Lord Ra," I said, thankful for the magic his rising brought with it. I slipped my stylus from my belt and held it up to catch the first rays of the sun. I felt the life ignite in it.

I helped the beetle up with my free hand. "All right," I said, "you got me here. You caught me. Saved my life. Thanks for all that. Do me one last favor. If I don't make it out alive, take word of my death back to the palace."

"Great," he said, with more sarcasm than I thought insects were capable of. "I love delivering happy news to royalty. You're not seriously considering going in there, are you?"

"I have to go after him and finish this up properly. The last thing I want is for him to get away. He'd only plot another, more deadly, attack. I don't really have any choice."

"It's your funeral," the beetle said. He sat down, looking dejected. He began caressing his bent antenna.

I started for the temple but hesitated a moment. The little guy was pretty down. "Hey, beetle," I asked, "what's your name?"

"Babbel, messenger beetle, second class," he recited. "It would be first class, except for . . ." He exhaled. "You know already. The tenny. Can't fly straight, as you experienced."

"No, you flew wonderfully. Wouldn't have had it any other way. Your evasive maneuvers were . . ." What was the right word? ". . . special. If things work out, I'll put in a good word for you. Maybe get you bumped up to first class."

He looked up, hopefully. "Really?"

Starting for the temple entrance, I called back, "It's a promise, Babbel." I meant it too. I keep my promises. Of course, if I didn't come out alive I wouldn't be able to, but that was just one of those unavoidably troublesome details.

I jogged between the massive, imposing statues of Anubis, the jackal-headed god, and into the dim interior of the temple. I drew an illumination glyph with glowing lines of crackling energy. They hung in the air in front of me. It didn't glow as brightly as I wished because the thick stone walls sheltered it from sunlight. Still, there was enough for the spell to work. I circled the glyph in a cartouche and then slashed it into life. A candle-like flame sprung from the tip of my stylus. It would have to do.

Like all temples dedicated to gods of the underworld, this one was pretty grim. Lots of shadowy corridors, black stone pillars. Not an actual person in sight, but everywhere I turned, statues of Anubis and his servants lurked as if waiting to pounce. Long, pointy ears, canine snouts, glimmering white teeth, and large red eyes. It all made me a bit jittery. I kept moving, holding the stylus high as I did.

I wondered why the magician had come here. Anubis was an underworld god, but that didn't mean he was evil or anything. He was pretty well respected, really. Chances are the magician didn't have anything to do with Anubis. Maybe he'd just fled for the first structure he saw out here, hoping to lose me in the maze of dark corridors. I wasn't going to let that happen.

I explored the main level of the temple carefully, looking behind every statue, down each spooky hallway. Nothing. I kept checking the main entrance as well, to make sure he didn't sneak out and run for it. I would've spotted him if he tried. No, after my thorough search, I concluded there was only one place left for him to be hiding in. The sacred vault.

Pretty poor hiding spot, I thought.

If there was one thing I knew about sacred vaults it's that there was only one way in or out. One stone door opened on to a ramp leading down into it. Once I had him cornered there, he'd have to deal with me. Even better, he wouldn't be able to use magic in there. It was too far away from the sun, too deep in the temple, embedded in solid rock. I wouldn't be able to use magic either, but that wasn't a problem. I could take out one old magician with my bare hands.

I slipped my stylus back under my belt and descended the ramp into the dank, dim chamber.

* * * * *

A voice spoke out of the dimness. It sounded sinister, condescending. And disturbingly calm.

"I'm disappointed," the voice said. "I had expected you to be bigger. It appears you are hard to kill. Judging by the scrawny look of you, I can't figure out why."

The magician stood in the center of the room. He circled around the altar to Anubis, the centerpiece of the vault. A faint illumination from above highlighted him. I couldn't quite tell where it came from, but it wasn't magic. It looked like sunlight. Faint as it was, it wouldn't be enough to a power stylus.

The way the light fell down on him exaggerated his features, his sunken cheeks and heavy brow. No one would call him handsome. He looked the part of an evil magician, though. The dark cloak that draped his shoulders was classic. He said, "How underwhelming. You're just like any other boy."

"Says who?" I asked.

"Oh, my name isn't important. Not to you, at least."

"Embarrassed to give your name? I would be too if I was a magician that summoned demons to do his dirty work. You'll notice I've defeated both of them. I barely broke a sweat while doing it." I felt smug and didn't mind showing it. "You'll be the easiest yet. It's just you and me now. No magic for either of us."

"True enough," the man said. He glanced up. "Down here, there is but this faint glimmer from the world above. Beneath it, we are equally powerless. This is not going to give you the advantage that you think it is, I'm afraid. You really are a rash little boy."

A rash little . . . The nerve of this guy!

I moved closer. "I would've expected a powerful magician to be smarter than you are. Next time you make an attempt on the prince's life, make sure that he's actually in the city. Your target was never in danger. I'm not the prince! I'm his Shadow."

There, that should put a wet blanket on his attitude. When he realized that I had the fighting skills to wipe the tiles with him, he'd probably beg for mercy. That wasn't quite what happened.

He grinned and looked more confident than ever. "That's where you are mistaken, boy. I wasn't trying to kill the prince. He's worth more to me alive in any event."

A sense of dread got hold of my toes and began creeping up my body. This guy really should be looking more worried. I defeated his bau. I made a pincushion of the winged spirit. I'd tracked him down with ease. Why didn't he seem a bit more concerned?

As I circled around the altar table, he did the same. He kept the stone surface between us. "You still don't get it, do you?" he asked. "It was you I was after all along."

"Me?"

"Yes, yes. You. Ash. The Shadow of the Prince. Khufu's protector and close friend. You, young man, are a nuisance, one that I intend to remove. Once I have, the prince will be easily manipulated for my purposes. And I will have stopped you from achieving your destiny."

I must've looked as confounded by that as I felt.

"This is better than I thought!" the magician said. He was having a grand time. "You really don't know how important you are. You don't even know
who
you are! Even better, you're going to die without knowing."

In a way, he was right about some of that. I knew
what
I was--the Shadow of the Prince. That's pretty much the thing that defined my life. It's what I'd trained for up until my twelfth birthday. At that point, I was summoned to the palace. I went through a rigorous testing--along with other kids that had been trained as I had. We even had to fight demons. By the end of a week of trials, I was the only one to make it through. Because of it, I became the prince's bodyguard. More than that, I became his friend.

So that was what I was. And proud of it! What I didn't know was who I would've been if I hadn't been a shadow. I was taken from my parents at birth to begin my candidacy. I never knew them. By tradition, I never would. Only my role as Shadow mattered now. I sometimes wished I knew about my parents, and about where I'd come from, whether or not I had any brothers or sisters. All that stuff. But most of the time my job was enough. I didn't know what the magician was up to, but I wasn't going to let him play mind tricks on me.

BOOK: Unbound
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