Serpent's Game (The Soul Eater Book 5) Read online

  “It was that or Osiris, and he… he’s never been kind to ussss.”

  Probably because snake shifters were more mu moka than they were Halls of Judgment. If anything, this girl should have worshipped me.

  “What’s coming?” I asked, curious what the rumors were.

  “The old gods are waking. A war is coming.” She glanced between us. “Old magic, so close you can almost tassssste it.”

  Her shimmering eyes held a hypnotic pull. She tried to lure me in. I smiled back at her, managing not to laugh at her attempt to enchant the Soul Eater. If she knew the truth, she’d be on her knees, pliable and repentant. “When did you go to Mafdet?”

  “Months ago.” Frowning, she pulled back, likely wondering why her little hypnotic trick wasn’t working.

  “You went to Mafdet, but the Slayer of Serpents didn’t want anything to do with you.”

  Blue folded her arms. “She tried to kill us.”

  Shukra’s eye roll traveled all the way through her body. “And I wonder why snake shifters are rare?”

  Blue shot the sorceress a sharp scowl. “There was a fight. Jasmine, she… it got out of hand. When it was over, we took things Mafdet was guarding but in the chaos was left exposed. We thought it might be important, so we took it.”

  She had to be talking about the break-in Cujo had been investigating. I doubted the shifters could have seriously hurt Mafdet. She was Thoth’s sibling and Ra’s daughter. But she’d been weaker here, like all gods who hadn’t opted to slumber.

  “Did you open the box?” I asked.

  “We tried, but… we couldn’t. Then it was stolen from usssss and—”

  Deep, earth-rumbling hissing boiled through the quiet. I looked up in time to see a monster anaconda the size of a tree before it struck. Lifting an arm to lock, I felt the backward-pointing teeth clang against the slave cuff, and reached for Alysdair with my free hand. Movement uncoiled to my left. Another huge snake peeled away from the wall, its skin shaking off the illusion of wallpaper. Shu and I had walked right by it.

  Blue’s flat, humorless smile was the last human thing I saw of her right before her skin rippled and slid off, revealing the huge serpent inside. She lunged. Alysdair sang, slicing through dry snakeskin as easily as unzipping it, and lopped Blue’s head clean off. The monster anaconda attached to the slave cuff let out a vicious hiss, recoiled, and spat a clear liquid down my side. Where it touched my face and neck, an invisible fire broke out across my skin. My coat steamed and bubbled. Well, this was all going to hell quicker than I’d expected.

  Shukra launched a curse or three and a ball of light. A flash lit the corner of my eye. I whirled, trying to shrug the coat off before the acid ate through it. A third grumbling hiss rose from Shukra’s direction. I caught a glimpse of a cobra-like crown just as the snake I was dancing with latched onto my right bicep and coiled its powerful muscular body around my legs.

  Before walking into the store, I hadn’t even known for sure there were snake shifters left, and here were three trying to swallow Shu and me whole.

  The anaconda wound its body around mine in less than a second. Pressure crushed all feeling from my legs, ground my thighs together, and constricted my chest, compressing my lungs. Tighter and tighter it closed, making my ribs creak and bones pop.

  “I ok sra dord, I ok orr sros ek vrums, orr sros ek kem, omd aeui krorr buv su kae verr.” Words rumbled as deep and throaty as the combined hissing. Old words. Words calling for darkness and sin. It took me a second to realize those words were falling from my lips. “Buv su kae verr.” Bow to my will.

  I locked eyes with the anaconda, freezing it. A warning hissed behind me, and Shukra hissed back. She could handle herself. I had my own problems.

  “Cukkomd,” I whispered. The snake’s psyche cracked open and let me in. “Raraoka ka.” Release me.

  Its coils loosened, freeing my lungs, arms, sword, and legs. It merely stared at me, dead-eyed and docile.

  “Where’s Mafdet?” I assumed they’d taken her, if only because she hadn’t turned up spitting and hissing over the destruction of her precious store. She was likely the only one who knew how to put the power back in the box and lock it away. I needed her.

  “Home…” the snake crooned, reminding me of a snake in a kid’s movie I’d seen Cujo put on for Chantal during one of our grown-up talks. Its gaze tried to ensnare me, but there was more to its hypnotic gaze now. “Uir rurd uk sra dord, uir rurd uk sra dord rok rekam.”

  “Duat?” I asked, ignoring the stream of ancient words.

  “Yessss, Rurd uk sra Dord,” the anaconda hummed. “Home, where the river bleedsssss and the souls sssssscream. Do you not hear them howl…? Rurd uk sra Dord?”

  I didn’t. The things it described couldn’t be happening. Duat was an impenetrable haven for souls. Nothing could weaken my home, not with Anubis and Osiris watching over it. Unless… Unless Osiris knew and he’d been keeping it from me?

  My grip on the anaconda’s wretched mind slipped. The snake sprang, jaws wide, fangs dripping venom. Alysdair slid in through the roof of its mouth, straight through its skull, and burst out between its eyes. Its limp body jerked and slid free, collapsing with a thwump. I turned, dragged Alysdair up the spine of the massive cobra attempting to consume Shukra by her right arm first, and then drove the blade home at the base of its skull. Its muscles convulsed, but it was dead. Alysdair didn’t screw around.

  Shu kicked the carcass off with a snarl and spotted my shredded coat on the floor between us.

  “I’m thinking armor might be more appropriate,” I grumbled, lamenting the loss of another coat, and offered Shu my hand.

  The store was trashed, and where spices had once scented the air, the acrid smell of burnt leather and bloated snake hung heavy and ripe.

  “Did you get any information?” Shu asked, flicking snake innards from her fingers. “Rurd uk sra Dord?” She winked. Lord of the Dark.

  Great. She’d heard the snake utter more names. Like I needed those.

  “Some.” I picked up my ruined coat, whispered daquir, and walked out with Shu, leaving the evidence of our encounter crumbling to ash.

  Chapter 10

  Mafdet was in Duat. She was the only one who was familiar with the box, and she had a knack for helping with complaints of the mind; she’d helped me get a grip on my subconscious in the past. I trusted her about as much as I trusted any god, but she was my best bet for finding out how to get whatever had been in the box out of Chantal and back in the box. I could either go to her in Duat or force her to come to me. Since my snake friend had hinted that Duat was volatile, I suspected going back would only make it worse. I hadn’t been back since the ferryman stopped me from drinking the river, but I hadn’t known who I was then. Going back, knowing what I did, could prove too much of a temptation for my fragile state of mind. That left summoning Mafdet, which would take a bunch of priests and a whole lot of worship juice that I didn’t have.

  As I was about to pull into the motel parking lot, my cell chimed a message from Cujo, saying to meet him at Chantal’s home. I u-turned the bike and headed straight there.

  He answered the door before I could knock, his face grave. “She’s sick.”

  Chantal lay on her bed, sheets kicked off, sweat glistening on her face and chest and soaking through her nightshirt. She muttered nonsense in the old language, words that had no place on her lips. Her eyes were open, but whatever she saw wasn’t in this world. She writhed and clawed at her clothes, sinking her nails into her skin and drawing bloody lines.

  But it was the look on Cujo’s face—the desperate plea in his eyes—that crippled me.

  Cat appeared with a fresh bowl of cool water and cloths. “It’s gotten worse in the last hour.” She dabbed the damp cloth against Chantal’s face, soaking up the sweat and trying to keep the girl cool, but her efforts were wasted. Nothing of this world could save Chantal.

  I beckoned Cujo out of the room and back downstairs. While waiting for his
stairlift to descend, I paced the large kitchen. I had to get the power out of Chantal. Whatever it took. If I didn’t, it would kill her.

  “I’ve been having dreams,” Cujo said, wheeling into the kitchen. “Just like hers. They started a few days ago. Twisted, nightmarish, end-of-the-world kinda dreams.”

  I nodded, the implications sinking in my gut. The power had hold of Cujo’s family. It was reaching through the bloodline, searching for a vessel strong enough to hold it. Cujo would be next. It would kill him too. I had to stop this now.

  “Where’s her mom?” I asked.

  “She went to town to get something for the fever. It’s gotten worse since she left. It came on so fast.” Cujo bumped against the island counter and looked up at me. “I’ve never asked you for anything. After the accident, after you refused to help me get revenge, I moved on. But you came to me. I’ve helped you with your cases for years. I never let you down, Ace. Not once. You’ve asked me to go against my gut, asked me to break the law, and I knew it was all for the right reasons, which is why I did it.”

  I didn’t reply, knowing where he was going with this.

  “Now I’m calling in my favors. You owe me, Ace Dante. You owe me a hundred times over. Save my daughter, understand? You do this. Whatever it takes. You save her.”

  I nodded.

  “Say it.” Cujo’s mouth twitched as he valiantly held on to his composure.

  “I do owe you. I’ll save your daughter. Whatever it takes. You have my word.”

  He sighed hard and slumped back in his chair. “Did you find anything at the stores?” he asked and lifted a trembling hand to rub his face.

  “The kmoda—nest of snake shifters—raided Mafdet’s store and stole the box. Before they could open it, someone stole it from them. And before I could get out of them who stole it, they opted for suicide by soul eater.”

  “Well, Judith didn’t steal it, so how did it end up here?”

  This was no random act. Someone who knew exactly what it was had given it to her. Judith had been targeted because her ex-husband was Nick Cujo Jones. “I think the time for subtlety is over. Judith has to know why her daughter is suffering. I need to speak with her and find out exactly who handed her the box.”

  Cujo’s already pale skin turned milky gray. Shaking his head, he wheeled across the kitchen and plucked the photo from its place on the refrigerator. He didn’t linger to look at the picture, almost as though he couldn’t bear to see the happy family, and handed it over. “Your world was never meant to touch them.”

  The photo had been taken years ago, before the accident that took Cujo’s independence and almost his life. A fresh-faced Cujo had an arm around his wife as they held little baby Chantal together. Smiles all round.

  “I’m sorry.” And I genuinely was. I’d always been careful to keep him safe. Always. But it always ended badly for mortals in an immortal-ruled world. Cujo and his family were just the beginning. Once Seth made his intentions known and the battle lines were drawn, more families would die. Hundreds of thousands. Current wars and famines would all pale in comparison. The sundering had turned the greatest civilization in the world to sand and rubble overnight. If that happened in this time, billions upon billions would perish. There had to be a way to stop the gods from rising.

  What if the apocalypse was not an event, but a man?

  More than darkness.

  “It’s not your fault,” Cujo said, likely watching the curious array of emotions pass across my face. “After the accident, I was hell-bent on revenge. Without you, I probably would have walked right into my own death and taken my family with me.”

  I settled a hand on Cujo’s shoulder and squeezed. “Your daughter will be okay.” If I couldn’t return the magic to the box, there was always Isis. As the Goddess of Light, she could heal Chantal, but the cost would be high. Isis knew the box was mine. She wouldn’t save Chantal and let me get away unscathed.

  I spied a small ornamental pond through the window, illuminated against the approaching dusk. “I have to take a trip to Duat,” I told Cujo, already heading for the back door. “I won’t be long.”

  “Ace?”

  I lingered by the door, hand resting on the handle.

  “I get that there’s a bunch of stuff you aren’t telling me. I don’t want you to, but you should know, the people you’ve helped, me included, we see the real you. You’re a long way from human, but we know who you really are… just a decent guy trying to hold back the dark.”

  I swallowed the knot in my throat and didn’t answer—couldn’t answer. I wanted to believe him. And maybe I’d prove him right, this one last time, if I saved Chantal.

  Duat slammed into me, all of it at once. Winds howled. Souls and sand hissed relentlessly over Duat’s once proud buildings, eating at its edges. Where cracks had opened, red sand spilled in, making the walls look as though they were bleeding. The sound of those countless screaming souls poured in, rendering me momentarily blind and broken. My knees cracked against the ground. I clasped my hands over my ears, but it didn’t muffle the screams. Sand pushed against my back, burning into my skin, howling around me, trying to swallow me whole. I almost wanted it to cover me up. Anything to stop the screaming.

  Blood dripped from my lip. The sand swallowed that too. I wiped at my nose, sweeping blood away. The power, the sand, the wind, it was a storm of godly magic. The Lord of Red—Seth—was here, and he’d been busy.

  I had to get out of the open.

  Stumbling through the maelstrom, I glimpsed familiar buildings here and there through the sand. I made it into the winding Duat back streets and fell inside an abandoned riad. The souls howled and moaned and clawed at my mind, terror-wrecked and insane.

  I hadn’t known.

  This devastation had been kept from me.

  Falling against a wall, I slid into a crouch and pulled all of myself in, clutching pieces of me close to keep me together before the souls, in their panic, tore me apart.

  Osiris had known Duat was suffering. There was no way he couldn’t know.

  The sand… I’d been seeing the sand everywhere in glimpses. I’d heard the storm, heard the screams, but they’d been so far away. I’d thought they were my past stalking me.

  A cruel twist of laughter sounded. Mine.

  No, no… I had to keep it together. I’d come back for Chantal. Not me. Not yet.

  Find Mafdet.

  The storm didn’t let up. Red winds tore through everywhere I went, every pathway, every alley and archway. The sand ate away at everything it touched, reducing ancient stone to dust. It burned my exposed skin and hissed at my passing. I stumbled over bodies stripped to the bone. Jackals reduced to outlines in the sand. Children too.

  This fate awaits New York. Sand will flood the streets.

  No. I wouldn’t let that happen.

  But first, I had to save Chantal.

  A hand shot out of the storm, gripped my arm, and yanked me through a doorway. The door slammed shut, sealing out the hurricane, the screams, and the madness. On my knees, I looked up to find Mafdet glaring down at me. Around her stood a crowd of warriors. Men and woman armored to the teeth. Each wore curved khopeshes—vicious swords made for ripping away shields and slicing through armor. I recognized some of the women as cat shifters from Bastet’s clowder. Each one was a killer, and they wouldn’t waste a breath in hesitating to kill me should Mafdet give the order.

  Mafdet hadn’t changed. Her bulk—once hidden behind a store counter—was wrapped in matte-black plated armor with a deep green kaftan thrown over to keep out the sand. Like the other gods back in New York, she’d been much reduced, but here her skin glowed gently and her golden eyes sparkled with the knowledge of the old ones.

  “Varcuka su Duat.” Welcome to Hell. Mafdet’s lips were set in an unimpressed line. “It’s about time you got here.”

  A warrior woman pulled her khopesh free an inch.

  Mafdet hissed, and the warrior woman promptly sheathed her sword. �
�Ha ek mus su ba rorkad em kae riad,” she said, warning them not to harm me while I was inside her house, which meant that outside, I was fair game.

  I got off my knees and brushed off the sand, my skin crawling under countless hate-filled gazes. I followed Mafdet through her silent warriors into a central courtyard free of sand and wind, though I could still hear the onslaught battering the outside walls.

  “Duat has fallen and Osiris does nothing.” Barely contained fury wobbled her words. “Either he has a plan, or he has already given up this realm to the Usurper out of fear and cowardice.” She hacked and spat in the dirt. “And you.” A thick finger jabbed my way. “Is it true?”

  That was a loaded question. “Is what true?” I hedged.

  “You freed the Usurper from his prison?”

  Technically, it had been my prison, but that answer required a lot more explaining. “It’s more complicated than that.”

  “Ah, but you do not deny it.” Mafdet’s chuckle was rich and dark with irony. It rumbled through her bulk. “Of course it is complicated. It always is. Well, you will not find many friends here, Nameless One. Word is you are behind Seth’s return and few are disinclined to refute it.”

  “I wouldn’t hurt Duat like this.” But my denials were as pathetic now as they had always been. Nobody would believe me, exactly as Isis had planned. The bitch kept winning. The wind buffeted the outer walls, and rock groaned beneath my feet. “Where is the Recka? I ordered it to keep my home safe.”

  “And it does exactly that. Seth has not breached the Halls. The souls continue their journey, unhindered for now. He tore off the cuff you used to command the beast, but the Recka refused to leave its station. It says it fears the cat with claws more than it fears the Lord of Red.”

  I couldn’t blame the Recka. Cat had taken its eyes.

  “Don’t smile at me, young one,” Mafdet snapped. “I know you’re not as bad as these fools here like to believe, but I also know you’re not what you appear. Get to it. Why are you here if it is not to help soothe the souls?”