Morrigan gazed at him with adoring eyes. “I have to admit, the way your mind works reminds me of Lucius.”
“Well, we are family.” Anubis shrugged, her open adoration threatening to make him blush. “I honestly don’t think they were supposed to separate like you and Isis did,” he continued. “They have trouble existing in the same space without constant discord. You have been trapped in between them for so long because you can never resolve your own conflict, never make your own choice. Ultimately, it has always been up to you, but you are just like David in that way—you are controlled by guilt and what you think is the right thing to do. If you separate yourself from what you believe you should do, you will see what you ought to do.”
Morrigan was speechless.
Anubis flushed, suddenly afraid he had crossed a line. “Please forgive me. I’ve had a lot of time to think in the Underworld.”
“No, I’m grateful you can make things clearer for me,” she assured him. “I’m not unintelligent, but my emotions tend to blind me, especially in this situation. I love them both.”
“And here I thought my love life was complicated,” Anubis joked as he rose from his chair to discard his empty glass.
Morrigan brightened. “You have someone in your life?”
Anubis fumbled, suddenly wishing he hadn’t said anything. “Not quite…”
“Not quite?” Helena’s voice tore through the room as she appeared in it, apprehending Morrigan with open disdain. “Did you really think I wouldn't discover you seducing another woman in your own home?”
Anubis felt his cheeks grow hot. “Helena, this is my mother.”
Her eyes widened as she looked back at Morrigan, who rose up from the couch.
“You are the ghost of a goddess,” Morrigan observed in wonder. “How can that be?”
“Unlike many gods, somehow Helena did not disappear completely after she died,” Anubis explained. “She is an earthbound spirit who can travel the astral planes. That is how we were able to discover David and warn Cahira years ago, after you lit the way for us.”
“We have to tell the others,” Morrigan said suddenly. “There could be more gods alive out there—perhaps Dan is still alive.” Without another word, she flew out of the room so fast, it seemed as though she had disappeared.
Helena looked after her. “Suddenly your temperament makes a lot more sense to me.”
“They arrived a few hours ago,” Anubis told her. “I was going to let them rest before summoning you here so we could all speak. Can I depend on you joining us?”
Helena groaned. “Isn’t meeting your mother enough?”
Anubis chuckled. “I would also like you to meet my father, uncle, and brother, maybe even the woman who holds my aunt’s soul.”
“I am not a woman who appreciates family,” she reminded him, her eyes settling on the open bottle of rum. “You were drinking without me, no less?”
“There is plenty left,” he assured her. “I was also planning on heading to bed soon.”
Helena gave him a look. “How romantic.”
“Would you still want me if I was romantic?”
She didn’t respond, brushing past him as she marched into his bedroom. “Leave the bottle.”
THE KINGDOM OF DAHOMEY, 1858
The rising sun stayed hidden behind a wall of storm clouds, a few cracks of orange managing to peek out of the smoky overcast gloom. The ocean rolled and crashed with the increasing winds, the tide high and raucous as though a full moon shone above it. It seemed the land was responding to her gods returning to it, submitting to the power of their presence.
Anubis had opened his home to them for the duration of their stay, a spacious villa-style abode made of mudbrick, positioned to overlook the beach. It was hidden by towers of natural rocks, the back concealed by brush and palm trees. It was so far from the main ports and protected by the natural topography that its presence would remain undetected even if it didn’t have the extra layer of magic surrounding its borders.
Thomas showed each guest their chambers, but Morrigan stayed with Anubis, not letting go of his hand until he led her into his open sitting room. Her eyes swept over his native-inspired pottery and animal bone art before they settled out the window. She took in the spectacular ocean view with a happy sigh, relishing in the occasional salt water spray that managed to reach its way through. “You have a beautiful home,” she murmured as she left the window to sink into one of the couches. “I love that it’s so close to the sea.”
“It reminds me of the Underworld,” he told her. “Rushing water and jagged rocks. Sometimes, I close my eyes and pretend I’m still there.” Before he could finish the words, a memory came to him, as strong as the last one had been, dragging him out of the present moment and thrusting him back into an ancient world he often forgot.
He saw himself wandering the realms, a young god brimming with curiosity. It was around the time Osiris had grown distant from him, focused entirely on daily interactions with his human subjects with young Horus at his side. Isis had also grown detached, holing up in the palace and refusing visitors. His Uncle Set spent his days alternating between rage and sorrow, spending so much time hunting his lost wife that the Underworld fell into disarray. Osiris tried to keep up with managing both realms but was overwhelmed, eventually letting Anubis take over the Underworld. He’d fallen into the work with natural ease, finding comfort in its shadows, a contentment in working amongst the dead.
It was on a day like any other, as he guided the latest crop of souls to their places, that he heard a whisper trickle through the darkness, so faint he almost missed it. Suicide. He hurried to finish his task and followed the sound past the familiar hills and rivers, up into the stagnant space that held the souls trapped between the living and the dead. He felt instant hopelessness upon arrival, the air stale and unmoving, the sky perpetually gray, a giant unmoving pond that stretched out around him, interrupted only by a few bumps of rock.
He noticed a woman folded around the largest one, weeping, the lower half of her submerged. Tears poured down her cheeks, mixing with the blood that ran from her wrists before draining into the murky water below. Her pain was palpable, overwhelming the space. He staggered for a moment from its intensity, wondering if he should flee before he saw her face and a glimpse of azure blue. His chest seized with recognition, but he forced himself to remain calm, understanding the delicate nature of the Between Space and that she’d never met him before.
He let his jackal visage fall away so she could see his human face. “Hello,” he said softly as he approached her. “Why are you so sad?”
She had grown thin and frail in her melancholy, nothing like the strong protectress he’d always imagined, her bones clearly visible through her lusterless almond skin.
“My children,” she murmured. “I want my children.”
Anubis knelt down to her level. “Have your children died?”
“No,” she said, her face slick with tears. He tried not to look down at her gruesome wounds. “I made a horrible mistake and had to leave them behind to protect them. I have lived alone for so long without those I love...I can no longer bear it.”
Anubis swallowed, trying to keep his own emotions steady. “What makes you believe death is better?”
“I was once the goddess of death,” she whispered. “Death is my home, my comfort. I long to return.”
“The Realm of the Dead is ruled over by Set,” Anubis gently pointed out. “Are you willing to see him again?”
“He will not know it is me,” she said. “He will think I am just another soul passing through.”
