Recreated (37 page)

“How long?” I asked, distracted.

“How long, what?”

“How long until she's absorbed enough of his power to break free?”

“I do not know. Amon is the most powerful of the three of us, since he possesses the Eye. But it could be that it won't take long at all.”

I thought about Amon, marveling that he'd been able to survive as long as he had in the netherworld. Unlike me, he was by himself.

Eventually, the bleak landscape changed and we came upon a sort of alien oasis. Strange trees rose into the air, and the sound of water drew us closer.

We touched down and Ahmose went to his brother. Feverish heat and sweat had broken out on Asten's face, and despite his attempts to reassure us, he cried out when his foot touched the earth. Even though his leg was bandaged, I could see how swollen it had become.

The trees were too close for Asten to remain airborne, so Ahmose carried his brother on his back while I took the lead, knives at the ready. The moment we found the source of the water—a large bubbling pool in the middle of the oasis—the noise of the birdlike creatures in the trees ceased. The all-too-recent experience with the ghosts and the reapers came to mind, and I knew from Tia that the sound of tiny creatures in the vegetation around us meant everything was fine. The moment the noise ceased was the moment a predator had arrived. I hoped, though I didn't hold out much optimism, that the predators they sensed were us.

I was wrong.

A musky, dark scent, like that of a burrowing animal, tinged with the slight stench of decay, assaulted my nostrils. I spun in a circle, keeping the water at my back and the brothers behind me. Ahmose set Asten down and drew his weapons also, positioning himself alongside me.

Before I could even prepare to throw a knife, dozens of huge, wolflike creatures encircled us. Their hunched backs were bristled with fur, their sharp claws clacking against the pebbles and rocks in their path. They crouched low, baring glistening fangs, their yellow eyes gleaming with deadly intent. Their reverberating growls sent little shivers dancing along my skin. My breathing quickened, and a cold fear licked my veins.
Jackals!
my mind screamed.

Before, when fighting the reapers, I was confident, sure of myself. For some reason this was different. I knew the razor-sharp fangs would rip into my throat, devour me. They had no mercy. They wouldn't hesitate to destroy. To kill.

One of the beasts came closer, his form melted like liquid smoke, and then solidified much too near for me to feel comfortable.

Why are you here?
the creature resembling a giant werewolf asked in my mind.
Have you come to feed our hunger?

“The reapers said you can help us get to the Turquoise Forest.”

And why would we do that?
the beast asked with a gargling sort of laugh, his jaw opening and then fleetingly disappearing before snapping together again like a trap. The gust of air he blew out from his nostrils tasted peppery and feral on my tongue. He lifted his face and then melted, reappearing a few feet to my right.

Outsiders. The scent of you tantalizes us,
the head jackal said.
You stir our blood with the slavering tang of your dread. It drifts over us lazily and invigorates us until we are crazed with what it promises.
He shifted his head excitedly.
We jackals have the strength of great boulders. Our flesh is as iron. Our teeth sharp. Our jaws steel traps. Your teeth are broken, dull. One of you lies weakened. Poison drinks his spirit. And you?
he said right to me.
You reek of fear.

I think the pack will dine well tonight.

I pulled an arrow of Isis from my quiver.
Eleven left.
The creature's yellow eyes widened, his body turning to smoke. But before he could fully disappear, I jabbed the arrow deeply into the thick muscle of the jackal's neck, hoping it would find purchase.

Fortunately, it did. An unearthly howl filled the air and was soon echoed by every member of the pack. I wondered if my actions had saved us or if I'd just given the hounds of hell the reason they needed to attack.

Drawing back my arm, I summoned my claws, preparing to sink them into the throat of the beast writhing beneath my arrow.

“How do we get to the Turquoise Forest?” I shouted.

We do not bend to your will. No matter who protects you.

“You will tell me, or you will die,” I hissed.

The jackal quickly turned his head to snap at my arm, but missed. His entire body shook while attempting to turn to smoke, but the arrow forced him to stay as flesh and blood each time.

We don't serve
her.
Not any longer,
he hissed.
We are pledged to a new queen now.

“The Devourer,” I said, and I wondered then if I had made a grave error in thinking these beasts would be as easily pacified as the reapers. “Fine. You choose death, then!” I exclaimed, grabbing the arrow and twisting it deeper.

The beast cried out with a pathetic yelp.
Wait!
he spat.

“Change your mind?” I asked with an innocent-seeming air.

He didn't answer right away, and I shrugged, moving to finish him off.
He deserves it regardless,
my inner voice assured me.
The mongrel, scavenger of death. His kind is a plague on the grasslands. Unfit even for carrion birds. Their entire species needs to be eradicated.

What is going on with me?
I blinked, trying to sort through my thoughts. I had never been vengeful. Especially when it came to animals. Sure, this one wanted to serve us up for dinner and I'd kill him if I had to, but my preference would be to scare them off at worst and wring the information we needed from them at best. These dark thoughts of killing each and every last one of them must be a sphinx thing.
I hope. I have to hold it together.

“Look,” I said. “I'd rather not kill you.” The voice inside me screamed in opposition. “All I want is to get my friend to the Turquoise Forest. There's no need for this to turn bloody.”

The only thing that prevented me from attacking—a gesture that would surely end in either my first death or Asten's and Ahmose's second, or all three—was reminding myself that Asten was deteriorating rapidly. He needed to get to the cure. That was much more important than any perceived need to kill the pack of monster jackals.

“Tell me what I need to know, right now!” I shouted to the group. “Tell me or your leader dies!”

I stared at the circle of blinking yellow eyes until I noticed a movement on my right. A smaller jackal, a female, crept forward.
We have no choice but to obey you, though my father fights against the coercion valiantly,
she said.

Howling pitifully, she crawled forward and pressed her head against the flanks of her father. He turned and snapped at her, grabbing hold of her leg and biting until she bled, but still she spoke.
You must enter the Waters of Forgetfulness. Dive deep. When you emerge, you will find yourself in the Turquoise Forest.

I heard a snap and the small jackal cried out. The father had broken his daughter's leg. She collapsed and licked the blood from her broken limb.

“One last thing,” I said as I bent to address the suffering pup. “Why haven't you attacked yet?”

We cannot,
the little thing whimpered.
Not while the arrow rests in our leader.

The head beast snarled viciously and barked at his pack. They echoed his bark, and I knew it was only a matter of time before they came for us. Straightening up, I said, “Then we'd best go. Ahmose, get Asten to the water. I'll join you momentarily.”

The jackal's hatred for me was tangible.
I'll rip open your belly and feast on your succulent insides while you watch,
he promised, his jewel-like eyes never leaving mine.
If the Devourer finds you first, she'll stew your bones and toss me your boiled bowels for a treat. Either way, we'll consume you.

“No
jackal
”—I spat the word at the wounded beast—“will ever take me unawares.” With that, I took hold of the arrow and pushed it as deeply into his neck as it would go and then broke off the shaft, leaving the head embedded in his body. He collapsed in a heap, but he was still alive. I hoped he'd stay that way long enough for us to escape.

The pack started barking wildly, a cacophony that I instinctually understood and feared. They would hunt us. Though they bowed to the power of Isis, they now served the Devourer. Unlike the reapers, this group of netherworld creatures would not assist us against the one they served.

Keeping my back to the pool, my eyes trained on the shuffling animals who crept closer, I shifted one foot backward and then another. Within a few steps I was at the water's edge, and without looking down, I moved deeper and deeper until the water lapped my chest. I hoped the water wouldn't ruin my bows, but there was no other option I could think of than to just go through with it.

For a few seconds I thought the jackals had tricked us, getting us into the most vulnerable position they could before attacking. But then I remembered the reapers. They'd said we'd get to the forest by finding the Fountain of the Jackals and following the path underneath. Diving beneath the pool was about as underneath as we could get. I took a deep breath and dove, Asten and Ahmose following close behind.

Down, down, down I swam but still couldn't find the bottom. I felt an arm scrape mine, but when I groped in the dark and looked in that direction, I saw nothing but blackness. Kicking my legs, I continued. Unlike what had happened in the Lake of Fire, my lungs began to tingle. Whatever it was we were looking for, we'd better find it soon. I blinked.
What was it again?

There was something we were seeking.
We? Who are we? Why am I in water? Is this a dream? A nightmare?
My mind was a blank slate. I screamed but cut it off quickly to save my air. Bubbles trickled from my mouth, heading down the way I was facing, not up. Paddling with my arms, I swam in a circle, searching for something, anything, to tell me where I was and how to get out.

Then, all at once, a light flared near me. It took the shape of a man. He was handsome and strong, but his face indicated pain. He moved awkwardly in the water. I swam closer, yearning to help him, and as I did so, I forgot the twinge in my lungs. He watched me approach with a curious expression, but it was clear he didn't know who I was any more than I knew him.

Hesitantly, I reached for his hand. When our fingers touched, my memories suddenly rushed back to me.
Asten.
Together we searched for Ahmose and found him nearby. When Asten grabbed his shoulder, Ahmose looked our way. His body lit up like Asten's, with one distinction: Asten's body was a white so bright it was almost blue, and Ahmose's was a softer, paler white. Both of them were different from Amon, whose skin had gleamed an almost buttery gold. I wondered if the variance had something to do with their powers or the celestial bodies they represented.

Then I remembered the token Horus had given me. He'd said the stone would not only heal me but would also help me right myself. Upon cupping the stone in my hand, everything shifted. My body moved in the water as if an unseen force were pulling me. The three of us began moving, but not under our own power; it was the water. Just as the three of us united, it rushed around us so forcefully I had to close my eyes.

I could barely see Asten or Ahmose through the cloud of my hair, but their gleaming auras still lit the surrounding water, so I knew they were close. Daylight beckoned us upward, and just when I could no longer hold my breath, we broke the surface.

Tia?
I tried to reach out to her, but she'd been silent since our fight. I mentally searched for her but couldn't sense her presence. I realized then that it had become increasingly difficult to find her when she didn't want to be found.

My worries over Tia had to take second place, though. The first thing we needed to do was get the salve from the tree to save Asten. We just had to figure out which tree in the forest was the mother tree. Scrambling to shore, I stood up, vigorously shaking my body to get the excess water off and wringing out my hair, feeling disgusted that I'd kept it so long. I knew should shave it off or, at the very least, cut it. It was a mess, and the long strands were getting in the way.

Tossing it over my shoulder, I immediately checked all the weapons, dumping at least a gallon of water from the quiver of arrows. Crouching down to Asten, I pressed a hand against his brow. His skin was cold; I wasn't sure if that was natural for him in the netherworld or if he was truly close to death. “We'll find the cure,” I whispered. “And this misery you feel will float away like the passing water of a deep river.” I frowned. When did I become so poetic? I was rewarded for my eloquence, however, as Asten took my hand, gifting me with a soft smile that deepened the cleft in his chin. I returned his smile but then shook my head slightly and withdrew my hand. “Ahmose, we've got to find the mother tree.”

“I'll go,” he volunteered. “You should stay with Asten.”

“No. You'd better let me. This forest is the same one I traveled to in my dreams”—I glanced down at Asten, whose eyes were openly watching me, studying me—“with Amon,” I finished. And something about saying his name out loud made me feel guilty.

Asten turned his head. “Let her go,” he said quietly to Ahmose. “But if you're not back in a few hours, we're coming to find you.”

I nodded in agreement, though I knew Asten wouldn't be moving from his current position anytime soon. He was no longer looking in my direction regardless. “A few hours, then.” Rising, I headed off into the forest, memorizing the scents that would guide me back to the place I'd left them.

Skirting the wide pool, I scanned the surrounding trees, wondering what a mother tree looked like. I imagined it to be the oldest tree in the forest, and the trees near our camp were at most ten years old, at least by my way of reckoning the flora at home. Also, the leaves on the younger trees were a brighter blue.

Knowing I needed to find an older section, I headed west, looking for the darkest patches. My footfalls were soft, nearly silent, as I moved across the springy moss that grew in blue-green tufts. Muskier scents of age and death alerted me that I was going in the right direction.

The forest was eerily quiet. The normal buzz of insects or the chirping song of birds was missing. Larger animals hid in the bushes. I could hear them shifting uncomfortably at my presence, but the stench of ammonia clung to them, making them entirely inedible.

Twice I caught the scent of something that made my mouth water, and when I paused for just a moment or two, I got lucky enough to snare one of them. Quickly, I tossed its body into my sack. What I'd caught wouldn't provide much in the way of dinner.

The forest was cold. The coldest place I'd been in the netherworld, in fact. I longed to have the sun heating my back. How lovely it would be to stretch out on the heated grass and bask in the sunshine.

Around and around the forest I wandered, but the trees I saw were young, their turquoise leaves sparkling and dancing in the cold breeze. “Hello?” I called out to any creature listening. “I'm searching for the mother tree.”

There was no answer, and an hour later, I finally found myself in an older part of the forest. This section was dark, especially in the never-ending twilight of the netherworld. Again I called out, but this time more quietly, “Hello?”

Nothing. But I could sense something watching me. I felt the telltale warmth tickling my spine.