ONE
The plastic beads attached to the spokes of Hunter’s bike wheels were a constant applause as she raced to the park and the Gatekeeper of the Egyptian Underworld that stood at its center. She ignored the screech of tires and honk of horns as she blew through the parking lot like a rocket. Her bike creaked and rattled when she hopped the curb and furiously pedaled through the grass to the doum palm. The sun had begun its descent beneath the horizon, and the lights of the tennis courts and baseball fields bit through the twilight and drew in townspeople like moths.
Hunter wasn’t worried about onlookers. They could think what they wanted. They could capture her under cover of dark and tie her to a stake in the middle of Main Street for all she cared. As long as it was after she rescued her sister from the Egyptian Underworld.
Hunter had felt lonely, but she could never truly be alone while Mercy was alive. No matter what they went through, they were in this life together. They had been from the very start and no unearthly dimension would change that.
Hunter hopped off her bike and let it crash to the ground as she ran the rest of the way to the clump of doum palms that had protected the town from the ancient monsters of the Egyptian Underworld for generations. Xena was a blur of black, brown, and white fur as she raced toward Hunter and the tree. The cat mewed and circled Hunter’s ankles as she caught up to her. The witch didn’t need to hear the Maine coon’s words to know what she said.
How many times and in how many ways had Mercy asked for Hunter’s help? How many times had Hunter pushed her sister away?
Hunter pressed her hands against one of the palm’s fragile shoots and called to the warrior she knew stood watch on the other side of the gate. “Khenti Amenti, Gate Guardian of the Realm of Osiris, answer my call.”
The fabric between realms rippled and pulsed like a still lake around the rock of Hunter’s call. She took a step back and clamped her hands into fists at her side. Khenti would give her answers even if she had to drag him into Goodeville to get them.
Xena arched her back and yowled as the gate came into focus. Hunter’s fists unclenched and she stumbled backward as six warriors marched toward the gate. Their muscular bodies shimmered with each deliberate step forward and their sharp-tipped spears glinted in the Underworld’s light. Hunter’s heart clicked against her ribs as she focused from one snarling jackal mask to the next. Their painted fangs gleamed, and their red fur blazed like fire through the veil.
“Where is Mercy Anne Goode, the Green Witch from this realm?” Hunter screamed at the Gatekeepers. “What did you do to my sister?”
The jackal warriors stood at attention. Their masks had come to life and each of their pointed ears twitched.
Xena yowled and screeched a hiss as she stalked between Hunter and the warriors. They moved as one and each tightened their grip on their weapon, their snarling lips parted with a low growl of their own.
“Bring me Khenti Amenti!” Hunter shouted. “I demand to speak to the protector of this gate.”
“We are the protectors now.” They spoke with one voice, a low rumble that buzzed through Hunter’s ears.
Hunter fisted her hands by her sides. “What did you do to my sister?”
“We do not answer to you, young witch.”
The fabric that separated the realms rippled once more, washing the redheaded jackal warriors from view.
Xena howled as Hunter charged the vanishing creatures.
“Mercy!” she screamed and reached for the shimmering divide, but it was too late. The warriors were gone, and the realm’s entrance was once more shielded by the doum.
Hunter wrapped her arms around the center shoot and pressed her forehead against the rough bark. “Mercy, if you can hear me, I’m sorry … for everything.” Tears streamed down her nose and splattered the ground. “And I’m coming for you.”
She wiped her eyes and stared through the palm to the warriors she knew lurked behind the gate. “I am a Cosmic Witch. Yes, I am young, but I have generations of power in my blood and the strength of the moon and the vastness of the universe wrapped inside my magic. I’ll tear apart your world and this one to find my sister.”
The pendant Tyr’s magic had given back to her heated against her chest and a jolt of energy crackled beneath her skin. “I am Hunter Jayne Goode, and no one fucks with my twin, except me.”
She let the message hang in the air between worlds for a moment before she bent down and scooped up the giant ball of hissing fluff. Hunter ignored the crowd, phones out and slack-jawed, that had gathered to witness the otherworldly event as she picked up her bike and set Xena in the basket next to her purse. She walked her bike to the parking lot as she spun her crescent ring around her finger and stared up at the brightening moon.
“We’ll find Mercy,” she whispered, hopping onto her bike and stroking Xena’s hackles as she pedaled them to the Goode house to gather her arsenal. “And then we’ll bring her home.”
TWO
“Try not to worry. Khenti is a mighty warrior. He will defeat the In-tep demons. They are terrible creatures, but they cannot stand against my son,” Meryt said.
Mercy watched Khenti’s mom pace back and forth in front of the cave-like room’s fireplace and decided her words would be more reassuring if Meryt didn’t look so pale and worried. Although, to be fair, Khenti’s mom was dead and spent most of her afterlife hiding inside from the demons outside in Duat, the Egyptian Land of the Dead, so maybe pale and worried was her norm. Mercy forced herself to smile. “Well, he did handle that In-tep that attacked us earlier pretty easily. You’re right. He is an excellent warrior. I’m sure he’s—”
Mercy’s words were cut off by a gust of hot air that pushed Khenti, as well as a bunch of sand, inside her mother’s Underworld sanctuary.
“Oh! Tee!” Meryt rushed to her son. “How badly are you injured?”
Mercy had stood from one of the many huge pillows Meryt used as chairs. She stared at Khenti, who was covered with blood and flecks of rancid flesh. She started toward him and then stopped—not sure what to do with so much blood. He’s gotta be hurt really bad! “Do you have a first-aid kit or any medical supplies?” she blurted, and then realized the ridiculousness of the question. Meryt was dead. She couldn’t get hurt. Why would she have a first-aid kit?
“Tee! Here, let me help you sit.” Meryt moved to take her son’s arm but he avoided her grasp.
“Muta, no, do not touch me. Let me wash this blood and gore from my body first.” Khenti smiled. “And do not worry, either of you. This”—he used his scarlet-spattered weapon to gesture at his offal-covered body—“is not mine.”
“Did you kill all of those zombie baboon things?” Mercy wrinkled her nose as the smell of the disgusting yuck on Khenti’s body reached her.
“Yes. I discovered a whole pack of them not far from here and killed them all, but they will return.” Khenti’s smile faded. “I also killed an Ikenty, and I fear when it revives it will return with many more of its kind as well.”
Meryt shivered. “Ikenty are terrible things. I have not seen one in quite a long time, but I have heard their yowls. When I do I remain here, where I am safe under Hathor’s protection.”
“What’s an Ikenty?” Mercy asked.
“May I tell you as I wash? Ikenty do not have a rancid smell, but In-teps reek of the grave—and now I do as well.”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea. You are really stinky.”
“Come, Tee, where the stream pools is an excellent bathing spot.” Meryt went to a lovely tapestry that depicted her patron goddess, Hathor. She held it aside so that Khenti could enter the enormous room beyond without touching and soiling the fabric, then she and Mercy followed the warrior.
“I love this room so much.” Mercy paused just inside the entrance to draw in a deep breath that was filled with the scents of flowers and fertile earth. Room was an understatement. The chamber seemed limitless—and because it was magic gifted to Meryt by Hathor, it might actually be. The huge place appeared to be a field filled with flowers and vegetables, mature wheat and trees bursting with fruit. The ceiling was domed, and even though Mercy logically knew they were inside a cave, above them a warm sun beamed life-giving rays onto the cacophony of plants. She let her fingers brush the tops of fragrant lavender as she followed Meryt and Khenti deep into the magic chamber to a wide stream that tumbled over smooth rocks. It wound around a grove of mango trees and then pooled in a perfect bathing place dotted with lotus that bloomed with ballerina-pink flowers.
Khenti didn’t hesitate. He waded in, sandals, spear, and all, without taking off the short leather military loincloth-like clothes he wore. He sank down into the crystal water and dunked his hair several times, wrung the water from the dark length of it, and then began taking handfuls of sand and scrubbing himself. As he washed he explained, “An Ikenty is a demon with the body of a large bird of prey and the head of a black cat—with unusually long teeth and eyes that glow red.”
“Sounds completely bizarre,” said Mercy as she sat beside Khenti’s mom on a simple wooden bench that overlooked the bathing area. Next to Meryt was a neatly folded piece of cloth that looked a lot like a bath towel.
“They are nasty creatures.” Meryt shivered. “Their talons are particularly deadly because they purposely encrust them with rot, dirt, and feces.”
“Isn’t that overkill? I mean, everyone who is usually in Duat is already dead, right?” Mercy asked.
“Correct,” Khenti said from the pool. “But Ikenty demons also guard the graves of mortals, where those poisoned talons make short work of grave thieves.”
“Ugh. And you’re sure the Ikenty and In-tep things are going to come back?” Mercy chewed her lip as her mind whirred.
“Absolutely. I tried to cover my tracks returning here, but it is only a matter of when, not if, they discover us.” Khenti emerged from the pool, shook so thoroughly that Xena would have approved, and then joined them at the bench. “Thank you, Muta.” He grinned at his mom when she handed him the towel, but his expression sobered quickly. “I am worried. As long as Mercy and I are here you are in danger. When the demons discover exactly where we are they will converge on this place. I will not be able to hold off a flood of them—and flood us they will.” His dark eyes met Mercy’s. “Has your sister made contact yet?”
Mercy purposefully refused to let her eyes wander down the warrior’s mostly bare, glistening-wet, muscular body. Get it together Mag! It doesn’t matter how hot he is—I do not want us to die here! “No. No, she hasn’t, but she heard me. Hunter will figure out how to help us. We just need to be sure she has the time she needs.”
Mercy glanced down at her chest and her stomach heaved. Hathor’s mark, the henna image of the goddess’s horns framing a large sun disc, continued to fade. There were currently no horns left at all, and the disc looked more like a crescent moon than the full, round sun. When the image completely disappeared it meant Mercy must leave the Egyptian Otherworld—or die there.
“Remember, time passes differently in Duat.” Khenti’s kind voice drew her gaze back to his. “Hathor’s mark is fading, but I believe the goddess is watching. She has already blessed you. I cannot believe she will allow her mark to disappear before you find a way to return to your world.”
“We,” Mercy insisted. “You’re coming with me. You’re not dead yet, either.”
Khenti’s gaze went to his mother, who smiled sadly up at her son. “No. I cannot come with you, Tee. I am dead, my sweet son. I do belong here.”
“You do not belong in Duat! This is not the afterlife you deserve. It is a lonely eternity you were tricked into by Father. If Osiris knew he would not allow this travesty of justice.”
“Then leave this place with your Green Witch, Tee. Find a way to get to Osiris. That is the only way I can escape this eternity,” said Meryt.
“Okay, so we need time.” Mercy’s fingers drummed on the bench as she thought. Then she straightened and grinned at the verdant plants that thrived around her. “I think I can get us some time! Meryt, is there any chance you have some black candles?”
“I may. That would be up to Hathor,” said Meryt.
“What does that mean?” asked Mercy.
“Hathor blesses me with things—fabric I fashion into clothes, wine and such things I cannot grow here—and candles. They appear in a wooden box. We shall simply check the box for black candles. The goddess often knows what I need before I think to prayerfully ask,” Meryt said.
“What are you thinking, Mercy?” Khenti asked as he towel dried his long, dark hair.
“Remember the cloaking spell I cast so people couldn’t see me talking to you at the park?”
Khenti’s dark brows went up. “I do! Could you cast such a spell here?”
“Well, it’ll take a much more powerful spell to cloak an area as big as the outside of your mom’s cave, and there are no ley lines here for me to tap into, but I think I should be able to get enough power from the plants that fill this amazing room to set the cloaking. How long it’ll last, I don’t know.”
“Long enough for us to sneak out of here so that the demons are no longer drawn to Mother’s cave?” Khenti asked.
“I bloody well hope so,” said Mercy.
“But how will your sister find you if you leave my cave?” Meryt said.
“We won’t have to leave right away,” explained Mercy. “I’ll be able to feel when the spell is weakening. It’s only then that we’ll have to leave.”
“The Mighty Cosmic Witch Hunter will find a way to reach you by then,” said Khenti.
Mercy started to say she wished she had Khenti’s confidence in Hunter, but then she realized she did have confidence in her sister! I believe in Hunter. I always have. I just needed to remember that and stop being blinded by my own bullshit. “You’re right, Khenti. Hunter is a mighty witch. She’ll do it. I know she will.”
Meryt stood and nodded. “Of course Hunter is a mighty witch; her twin sister certainly is. Now, let us see if we are still in Hathor’s favor.”
Meryt led the way back through the growing room to what Mercy thought of as the living room of the cave. Meryt moved aside another beautiful tapestry—this one portrayed the fertile Nile, flanked by palms and flowers and a flock of hook-nosed ibises frozen in midflight. The room within was smaller than the living room, but the curtained bed in the center of it was spectacular, filled with linens the blue of the Egyptian sky. At the foot of the bed was a huge trunk decorated with Hathor’s horns and disc and encrusted with semiprecious stones. Meryt lifted the lid, gasped happily, reached within, and then when she turned to face Khenti and Mercy her arms were with filled with fat black pillar candles.
Relief washed over Mercy. “We are definitely still in Hathor’s favor.”
“What else do you need?” Khenti asked.
“Just shadows and power,” said Mercy. And luck—a lot of luck—she added silently.
“As you say, the growing room is filled with the energy of plants, and they have already recognized and accepted you,” said Meryt. “Could you use the shadows beneath a tree?”
“If the tree’s big enough. I’m gonna need a lot of shadows,” said Mercy.
Meryt’s smile beamed. “Oh! I do believe Hathor’s sycamore fig will work. Come! Come!” With the litheness of a girl, Meryt rushed past them, nodding for them to follow. “Tee, bring one of the torches beside the hearth fire. Mercy can use it to light the candles.”
Copyright © 2023 by P. C. Cast and Kristin Cast
