Warrior of the Nile (The Gods of Egypt) (21 page)

Tiya held her hair away from her bruised neck, putting her lips close to his ear so he could hear her over the bellowing and the wind. “The purple stones channel all my power, all her power, to Smenkhotep.”

The golden bird made one last attack on Smenkhotep, putting out his left eye. The nomarch gestured woozily, screaming a curse, and the swallow plummeted to the floor, a blackened lump of feathers. Hand over his empty, oozing eye socket, Smenkhotep yelled an incantation, and when he lowered his arm, Khenet saw that although he hadn’t been able to save the eye, the nomarch had used his powers to heal the wound, leaving his face hideously disfigured. Now Smenkhotep refocused on Khenet, who was shielding Tiya as she struggled with her jewelry. After grabbing two sacrificial knives from a smaller table of mystical instruments, the nomarch launched into a shambling run across the open space, screaming a nearly incoherent blend of curses and magical spells.

Khenet pushed Tiya out of harm’s way so he could fend off with his sword the man’s flurry of blows. Going on the attack, Khenet drove Smenkhotep against the altar stone. The nomarch had evidently had training in the art of sword fighting at some point in his life. Skillfully, he parried Khenet’s next blow, catching the sword between his two long knives. Even with the extra strength from Tla’amu, Khenet had a hard time resisting the crazed power that Smenkhotep wielded, the frenzied attack with the flashing knives. He felt the snake tattoo tightening on his skin, preparing to materialize and enter the fray if needed.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw tentacles whipping toward the two of them. Shoving Smenkhotep violently away, Khenet spun in a circle, hacking with his sword at anything that moved in his direction. The
utukkai
prancing on the altar backed off, snarling, waving stubs as the amputated tentacles regenerated.

Catching sight of the nomarch, the demon reached down to grab Smenkhotep by the ankle as he crawled away from the altar. The beast dragged the nomarch along the floor, cocooning the screaming man with countless tentacles. The second
uttakai
crawled from the lake onto the altar, jostling its brother, snatching at the victim greedly.

“No, no, no!” Smenkhotep screamed, trying to get the creatures’ attention as they fought over him. “You’re not here to kill me—you’re supposed to take Pharaoh’s brother. That man there! Carry his blood, liver and soul to your master as my offering.”

The first
uttukai
paused, tilting its head as if considering the plea. The tentacles loosened a fraction. “The moment for delivering the sacrifice has passed. You have proved yourself to be a weak and incompetent sorceror. Qemteshub won’t listen to you now—you offer him nothing! But having been rudely awakened, I still crave my dinner of human flesh,” the beast said, the voice gurgling from deep in its throat. Tightening its grip again, the creature of the underworld laughed, the sound horrific.

Smenkhotep got one arm free, pounding on the tentacle that encircled his waist. “I had it all worked out, I followed the rituals in the ancient scrolls perfectly. You can’t deny me—I will harness the power of the gods and rule Egypt! I command you to release me.”

“We take no commands from a mortal.” The second
utukkai
laughed. “Many try to invoke the favors of Qemteshub but fail the test as miserably as you have done. You’ve not delivered the sweet soul of the chosen sacrifice. Indeed,
he
has delivered you to our embrace. Accept the punishment!”

No one should have to die that way
,
not even someone so evil.
As the first demon lifted its sobbing, pleading victim toward a mouth filled with hundreds of razor-edged, dripping teeth, Khenet lunged forward, aiming the tip of his sword at a gap between tentacles, and stabbed the shrieking Smenkhotep in the heart.

Thunder boomed and a visible red-orange shockwave emanated from the altar. Khenet was thrown off his feet, crawling to cover Tiya with his own body.

When the hot winds finally stopped blowing, Khenet blinked. The altar had split in two, the halves crumbling into dust. No sign remained of the late nomarch or of the pair of
utukkai
. Smoking, warm to the touch, blackened and covered with a thin layer of ash, the entire floor had transmuted back to stone all the way across the chamber to the door, sealing the lake off again, as the ancients—his ancestors—had intended.

He pulled Tiya into his arms, kissing her passionately. The purple stones of Smenkhotep’s necklace lay in the dust beside her, no longer glowing but only gray lumps set in tarnished gold. The bracelets and anklets had suffered a similar fate.

He stood up, lifting Tiya to her feet with him but not releasing his grip. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine—” Tiya broke off with a gasp, staring over his shoulder, her eyes going wide and fearful. She pressed one hand to her heart, hunching over in pain. “The goddess—”

As lotus scent washed around him, Khenet turned, not surprised to find himself facing a livid Nephthys.

“Fool of a man! Do you understand what have you done?” The Great One towered over them, hands on her hips, with a glare to match her icy words.

Khenet glanced at the shattered altar, then at her. “Apparently, I sealed the portal when I killed Smenkhotep. Destroyed the portal, actually. Wasn’t that the intention?”

Furious, eyes narrowed, Nephthys pulled herself to her full height. “You killed the magician before he could summon Qemteshub, before I could grapple with and destroy him, wipe him from the worlds.”

“Are you going to kill me now?” Khenet challenged her. “Will you lure Qemteshub’s minions out of the lake of fire with my death throes and petition them to bring him here, do what Smenkhotep failed to do?”

Tiya tightened her grip on his arm, tried to move between him and the Great One. “
No
.”

Firmly, he prevented her from offering herself as a target, shielding her with his body.

“Unlike Qemteshub, we Great Ones of Egypt do not practice nor accept human sacrifice.” Nephthys used a scornful tone, but Khenet didn’t like the gleam in her eye.

“Apparently, there’s a fine line when it suits you,” he scoffed. “You were going to use someone else to kill me. Maybe it wasn’t your job to destroy Qemteshub, Great One—have you considered that possibility?”

A vivid flash of emerald light startled them all. Khenet withdrew a few steps, bringing Tiya with him. A gigantic hawk swooped out of the light, gliding across the smoking floor toward them. Back winging for a moment, the bird dropped to the flagstones, concealed by mists and smoke. A warrior stood in the dissipating smoke. This newcomer was dressed for war, an immense curved sword belted at his side and a shield slung across his back. Bareheaded, he wore a striking collar of gold, carnelian and lapis lazuli, which featured the stylized falcon eye in the center, outlined in beads of jet.

The god stood in front of Khenet, pulling his shield to the ready, positioning himself between the human and the angry Nephthys as if to defend Khenet from her wrath. As the being surveyed Khenet head to toe with the feral eyes of a raptor, Khenet stiffened into attention, saluting as he would a superior officer.

“Horus the Falcon,” Tiya whispered.

The Great One blinked and for a moment the pupil of his right eye was a miniature sun and the left was a diamond full moon. Green light flashed again and he beckoned to someone. “All is well, sister. We need you to join us in order to determine the truth of these events.”

The woman who stepped from the shadows next had an unearthly, luminescent beauty. Clad in fine white robes, she wore many intricate necklaces that formed a multicolored collar around her long, graceful neck. A scarlet ribbon headband was threaded into her glossy black hair, holding a large red ostrich feather that curled elegantly over her head.

“All welcome the Falcon and Ma’at, Lady of Truth, come to the battle a little late,” Nephthys sneered.

Horus pointed at Khenet with his shield. “Until my warrior killed the
utukkai
and destroyed the altar, until the warding stones were destroyed, we couldn’t enter this nome. You had to resort to subterfuge yourself to stand here tonight. And even then, Smenkhotep had abilities you failed to anticipate, trapping you in the human woman’s body.”

Nephthys nudged the remnants of the necklace with her toe. Soot drifted away. “The task is left undone. Qemteshub remains safe in his realm, ready to strike out at the world we protect.” Her voice was bitter and her face was lined, aged.

“This portal is closed.” Khenet waved at the crumbled altar. “The magic stones are dissolved. We’re safe enough.” He stared defiantly at the goddess. “What task is then left undone?”

She regarded him angrily, her brows drawn together, forehead wrinkled. “Qemteshub and his armies won’t relinquish their quest to conquer Egypt and destroy my king Osiris. They wish to undo the good works his company of Great Ones stands for.”

“Qemteshub can’t use this portal,” Horus reminded her.

“These stones are gone but this province houses the mine from which they were hewn. The lake of fire still waits below.” She stamped one foot on the floor, which rang hollowly. “I intended to destroy all of it in one great stroke. But this foolish human prevented me.” She raised her arm.

Khenet took a defensive stance, raising the sword and pulling Tiya behind him with his free hand. Horus waved him back.

“He’s not to be punished. Osiris and Isis sent us here to prevent you from engaging Qemteshub, once they comprehended your true intention. Closing the portal was your only task. The larger battle is not yours,” Horus added, eying her with an arched eyebrow. The diamond sun pupil of his eye spun, refracting rainbows around the room. “Those are the words of our king, mighty Osiris.”

“But this nome must be destroyed, wiped off the map, before someone else learns of the ancient powers here, of the stones.” Nephthys threw out her arms, palms up.

Khenet heard the faint buzzing of her wasps as she gathered power to her. Green eyes coming alive, the snake on his arm tensed, ready to enter into combat again. Events were threatening to spiral out of control, to no one’s benefit, least of all Egypt’s. A quarrel between the gods was unthinkable.
There has to be another way.
“What if I could guarantee you a well—governed province, loyal to Nat-re-Akhte and the true gods?” Khenet asked. “The mine sealed? Other secrets kept?”

Nephthys blew a dismissive breath from her thin lips. Tilting her head, she surveyed Khenet head to toe. “How are you proposing to accomplish these goals?”

Pretty clear to me
,
but I can spell it out for her.
“I think you forget, Tiya was Smenkhotep’s wife, however briefly, acknowledged by him in front of his people, his courtiers.”

Tiya squeezed his hand, leaning into the shelter of his encircling arm. “But the marriage wasn’t consummated.”

“And I’m properly grateful.” Khenet brushed a hasty kiss on her cheek. “Regardless, you’re his widow, and his heir.
You
are the new nomarch.”

“Truth,” Lady Ma’at proclaimed. Her smile was dazzling, dimples unexpectedly appearing in her cheeks.

Nephthys scrutinized Tiya and shook her head before wheeling to face Horus and Ma’at. “She’s young, untested, unknown to this nome. She can’t hope to hold it for Pharaoh.”

“She won’t hold it alone,” Khenet answered, stepping forward to place himself back in her line of sight. “I’ll be her husband and consort. We’ll rule together. You can’t judge me young or untested.” He pointed toward the door with his sword. “There are men waiting out there who have already rallied to serve under my standard, men who found their courage and reclaimed their honor today. More will follow. I’m the Last Man of Avsarum,” he said, his voice echoing in the vast chamber as he claimed his title. “It is my destiny to marry well and rule a territory.”

Nephthys transferred her gaze to him. “There’ll be too much time before word can travel to Pharaoh and reinforcements can be dispatched. The situation will be dangerously unsettled. Chaos in this nome leaves an opening for agitators.”

“He’s the Last Man of Avsarum,” Ma’at pointed out, taking her red ostrich feather from her hair to toy with it reflectively, running the soft fronds through her cupped hand. “There are powers and protections inherent in that title, not of our doing but potent.”

“I’ll stand with my warrior, help him hold this nome safe for Egypt,” Horus proclaimed.

Khenet bowed. “I’m grateful, my lord. I know my loyalty to you has been somewhat split in the past—”

Horus held up one hand. “As my sister Ma’at proclaims, you’re the Last Man of Avsarum. It was proper for you to call upon those gods. In time of war your full loyalty was to your Pharaoh and to me, I’ve no doubt.” Horus reached out to touch Khenet’s shoulder above the coiled black serpent. Feathers brushed against his skin, although the Great One maintained human form. “All is well between us, Khenet, and ever shall be.”

With a swift glance, Khenet realized he now bore an addition to his tattoo, the cartouche of Horus crowning the serpent in gold. Saluting, Khenet said, “Once the nome has been restored to order and self-sufficiency, building a temple for you in this city shall be our first public works project.”

Disdainful as ever, Nephthys sniffed. “Do as you please. I’m done with the matter. I’m done with you. You’re no longer my concern.”

Taking a quick step forward, Ma’at laid her scarlet feather on the other Great One’s arm, freezing Nephthys in place.

Glaring at the feather, she tried unsuccessfully to flick it away with one finger. “Don’t interfere with me, sister. I wish to leave this misbegotten province and forget these humans. I’ve other matters to be about.”

“Truth is the most powerful force in the universe, Nephthys. Even you cannot deny truth. You release the girl and her descendants from any claim?” Ma’at asked.

After a long pause, the goddess pursed her lips and nodded. “I do.”

Ma’at stepped back, bringing the feather to her lips. “Truth.”