Anubis’s soft blue eyes met hers. “Ah, you’ve been talking to Xevioso. He must have gotten back already. He does not like me very much, nor does he approve of my loyalty to the other gods, despite me saving his life.” He took a seat on top of his desk, folding his arms across his chest.
“As a human, I never questioned the concept of the vodun, but after I learned about my past and the other gods, I was surprised to discover how many of them resided in the Middleworld, acting as spirits. They are quite content to stay out of the affairs of others, an entirely autonomous existence centered around the humans that need them. It was strange to me at first, for I have worked peaceably along other gods for eons without question. But eventually, I came to the conclusion that they have lived that way for thousands of years—and who am I to change them? I might have blood ties to them and the people I now serve, but I am Anubis, the guardian of the Underworld, and that is who I will be, regardless of what body I inhabit. If there is no Underworld to tend to, then I will help where I can on Earth until I die. I think you saw that in me, long ago, when you turned me into a blood drinker.”
Sandrine nodded. “An old woman whispered in my ear who you were. When I saw you, I knew she was right.”
A look of sadness flashed over his eyes, though his lips turned up into a smile. “The woman who raised me, Mama Mawu. She died right before the plague came to us.” He looked thoughtful for a moment, his eyes drifting out the window like Morrigan often did. “Perhaps we can make a new class of gods,” he suggested, “ones that both intervene in the lives of humans and in the affairs of the gods.”
Sandrine smiled. “Perhaps you are on to something there.”
“Oh, hello, Sandrine,” Thomas’s soft, melodious voice interrupted. “Has our latest problem been resolved?”
“The human one,” she replied.
“Oh, wonderful,” Thomas said before turning to Anubis. “We cannot go to the temple. Helena says it is filled with guards. Apparently, there was a massive fire at the old plague burial site and people are panicked. Fortunately, this means you are not being hunted.”
“But for how long?” Anubis’s brows furrowed as he put his hands on his hips, contemplating their next move.
“We should wait here,” Cahira said as she strode into the room. Relief washed over Sandrine, glad to see she was still alive.
The liminal crept up sadly behind her, Anubis appearing just as relieved to see him. He went up to give him a gentle hug before holding his shoulders as he stared at him. “Where did you go?”
Libraean sighed. Sandrine was struck by his appearance next to Anubis, his weathered skin still accumulating wrinkles, his white hair growing thinner with time. How strange it must be to have immortal blood flowing through your veins, but to feel yourself age regardless. Although his one eye stayed clouded and unmoving, the one that matched Anubis’s held the knowledge of a thousand worlds. “First, is David here?” he asked.
Anubis shook his head. “He was irate even before I arrived.”
“That is because he was Discordia in disguise,” Libraean sighed. “We have all been made the fool.”
Sandrine’s eyes widened, taken by surprise. It was quickly replaced by anger. “Angelique was here the entire time?”
“Yes,” Libraean told her as Anubis helped him to a chair that hadn’t been ruined by the flood. “I lost you all when we contacted the spirits, but I found Gabriel. He revealed it all to me—that he forced Lucius to drink from him because he wanted to die, that Jesus needed him, and that he held Lucius’s lost memories over his head so he would do it. He told me that the creatures who have overthrown Heaven, the Holy Watchers, are the ones who contracted Discordia to destroy us all. They tried to enlist David to assist, but when he refused, they cast him into hell, allowing Discordia to take over his body.”
“Then that is where Morrigan must be—hunting Discordia,” Anubis realized. “We need to find her immediately. Where is Lucius?”
“He has gone into Hell to retrieve David and Dan,” Cahira told him in an uncharacteristically soft voice.
Anubis looked taken aback. “He has?”
Libraean confirmed his question with a nod. “I think we should wait here until they all return.”
“I don’t feel particularly at ease with my mother out there alone,” Anubis looked out to the tumultuous sea. His eyes traveled back towards Libraean. “Our mother.”
“I can go out and look for her,” Cahira offered, addressing Anubis. “After all, she is my mother too. But before I do, there is something Thomas and I need to tell you about your father.”
anubis
The tempestuous wind had made violence of the sea, but Anubis walked down the shore unaffected, his bare feet sinking into the sand. The squalls that whipped around him roared in his ears, but it was no match for the thoughts crowding his mind. He tried not to think, for he knew all was handled, but the emotion trapped in his throat begged for release.
Before he realized where he was going, his legs instinctively carried him to a grotto, one he hadn’t entered for many years. The steady drip of water was a welcome reprieve from the billowing wind, but the scent of cool, dank earth and stale sea water brought him back to the time when he was human.
He could almost see her silhouette against the candlelight, almost feel her heated breath on his skin. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for yet another intrusive memory that refused to stay buried. Soon the revolting stench of burning flesh bit his nose, tortured screams filling his ears. Too tired to resist, he slipped to the ground, succumbing to the obstinate pull of memory.
It was the moment he turned.
He hadn’t realized he’d died, for it wasn’t unusual for him to visit the spirit world unintentionally. But when his eyes opened to see the three doors and gray walls, he felt disoriented and confused, as if it had been a mistake. The feeling was compounded by the presence of Mama Mawu, who wore a youthful facade of fresh, unlined skin and supple lips as she looked down at him with love in her eyes.
“Why are you here?” Anubis was groggy, unable to lift his head off the stone floor she knelt upon.
“Be still, we only have moments,” Mama told him. “Your body is dying, but your soul will remain.”
Her words confused him until he remembered the plague, the raging fever that had gripped him, burning out his consciousness as he lay helplessly in the French compound among the sick and dying. “Helena,” he remembered, bolting upright.
“It is too late for her,” Mama told him sadly. “You must listen to me, child. When you wake up, you will no longer be human. You will be like the adze, a creature who needs blood to survive.”
His jackal crept forward from the shadows, a welcome familiarity as it settled down next to Mama, its eyes aglow.
“I don’t understand…” Anubis murmured. “Are you dead?”
“Shokpana’s sickness took me long before the woman blood drinker killed you and gave you her blood,” she replied. “Now hear me. When you rise, you will feel a hunger grip you unlike any other. Find an animal to eat so you can control yourself. Return to the village and save as many of our people as you can. There is madness there. King Agaja’s army has swept through, thinking the kingdom weak with death. But the sickness created monsters, which drew the attention of wicked spirits. The humans are being forced to fight them all. You must save them.”
“Wicked spirits?”
“Trust in me, child,” Mama said. “You will see when you rise. Now it is time for you to know who you truly are and what you have left behind.”
The jackal crept closer with no Legba to stop him.
“You will have your answers.” She rose to her feet, stepping backwards with a sad smile. “Until we meet again.”
Anubis tried to move forward to kiss her cheek, but the eyes of the jackal grabbed his attention, shining hematite stones penetrating his own. He gasped as he saw the pyramids of Egypt, heard the shriek of a kite, smelled the rushing black rivers of the Underworld. Every memory he’d ever lost came rushing back to him, assaulting his mind as he staggered, trying to make sense of it all. The jackal’s howl echoed in his mind, finally succeeding in bringing him to his knees. And then the hunger hit, jolting him back to consciousness.
