Earth, Sun, and Moon Saga Ch. 11

But now, the possibility that curse could be lifted . . . it was intoxicating.

"Let's get started then." Gwen formed a circle using the chunks of rock salt. She looked up at Anubis. "So, do you bleed?"

Anubis curled a lip up at her as if offended by the question. "I do. But not easily."

"Place a drop of your blood here." Gwen pointed to the quartz crystal at the center of the circle.

Anubis complied. He held out his right hand and allowed it to transform. The palm and fingers lengthened, as did the sharp nails. He dug one claw into the palm of his left and gouged himself with not so much as a grunt.

He made a fist and squeezed blood into the circle.

Gwen moved quickly with the practiced flow of centuries. Undoing a curse was always more intensive than placing one and she, not for the first time, wondered what that said about the nature of reality.

"Hand," she said, holding out her own. Anubis gave her his left and she immediately pushed several rose petals into the wound on his palm. The petals absorbed the blood, glowed white, and flashed into ash. Gwen tipped his hand over, adding it to the drops of blood.

When she was kidnapped, she was wearing what she thought of as a "kitchen dress," namely for the fact that, like much of her clothing, it had multiple secret pockets all over it where she kept a variety of reagents. Edward knew it was her habit to do this and thus, when she woke, her pockets had been empty. He returned them once she'd agreed to help them. He trusted her like that.

She pulled out a small bottle containing a black liquid—ink from an octopus—and drew an eight-sided star around the drops of blood in the circle of salt. Then she drew a series of symbols.

She spoke the words of the incantation in a language so old it was never written down. Of all the languages she'd ever spoken, it was her first.

When the words were spoken, and the circle primed, she threw a handful of the rosemary across the table.

If her audience was expecting a light show or some magic flash, they were disappointed. She placed her hands flat on the table, feeling the transfer of energy running like a current through it.

"Alright," she said, sitting back. "We're done."

"What do you mean, sorceress? It is not done until it is complete. Or do you require more rubbish for your spells?"

Gwen waited.

Anubis looked down at his human-shaped hands, then held one out for the mug Qebhet held. The mug shot out of her hands and into his, tea splashing over the rim.

"Dad!" Qebhet exclaimed. "Rude!"

"It worked," Anubis said.

"Of course, it worked," Gwen replied.

Anubis stood, stretching in his human body.

"Dad. Don't transform. Or at least take your damn suit off. Do you know what those cost?"

Too late.

Anubis stretched into his jackal head, the collar of his suit exploding and his suit jacket shredding across the seams.

"He's got a flair for the dramatic," Edward said to Gwen.

"I hadn't noticed."

"Finally! I am no longer imprisoned in this earthly form!" he announced as if he wasn't seven feet tall and bullet-proof before. "Finally, I can continue my task!"

Edward smiled. "Excellent. I'll start the preparations." He turned to Gwen. "We have a lead on a nasty little vampire in California. Works out of an abortion clinic, if you can believe it. Feeds on women during their—"

"No," Anubis' voice boomed.

"No?"

"There is one closer."

Edward frowned, looking at Qebhet and then back to Anubis. "I thought she was dead."

"Lenore?" Gwen asked. "What did you do?"

"She lives still," Anubis said with a sneer. "I can sense her again. Even more than before."

Qebhet spoke, "You killed her, father. I watched you."

"She lives, damn it! I can feel her presence like I can sense the dead rat on the other side of that wall. Unclean thing! I would have made sure but then that man attacked us."

James, Gwen thought. Oh, James, how sorry she was to drag him into this mess. If Gwen had learned anything about the gods during her long life, it was that humans who became involved with them generally didn't have good outcomes. But, if what Anubis said was accurate, James was no ordinary human.

"This is the same man that attacked you at the museum?" Edward asked.

"Yes. I must admit it was rather surprising. He somehow understands silver's potency against the divine."

Edward turned back to Gwen. "How would he know that? Who is he?"

"A nobody," Gwen said flatly. "Someone for Lenore to feed on until she grew bored. He does environmental science or some such nonsense."

"You took him on as an apprentice?"

"Thought about it but no. He has no magical ability I could discern. If Anubis hadn't shown up, I'm sure that Lenore would have bled him dry by now."

"That man is not a nobody," Qebhet said. "Both my father and I attacked him and he held his ground. I know a warrior when I see one."

"Well, I met him three days ago. I didn't read his resume."

"He is of no matter," Anubis said. "His weapons are an annoyance. But if he protects the vampire, he is an obstacle that must be removed."

"You said you didn't need Lenore," Gwen said to Edward. "That's partly why I agreed to help you."

Edward nodded, looking somber. "That was the plan. I don't care for it either. She was . . . kind to me."

"Filth," Anubis said. "She is the spawn of demons and devils. She feeds on life itself. She must be purged from this plane of existence."

Edward sighed. "I know you have a grudge against her but she's been more trouble than it's worth. Your little stunt on the rooftop tipped her off that we were even here. We got Gwen and you got your powers back. So let's slide down to LA, nab this abortion vampire, and we'll be back to London before you know it."

Anubis growled, curling his lips back to show off impressive canines. "While I am grateful for your assistance in bringing me forth and for the sorceress in restoring me, I will not suffer a vampire to live. Especially one so close." Anubis sniffed the air. "She's closer than when I tracked her to your island. Help me or do not. It makes no difference. But do not stand in my way."

Gwendolyn felt a ripple of chaotic energy surge through her body. Long ago her emotions began translating into her magic. Anger and guilt rose to just under the surface. She was outnumbered and alone. She couldn't fight all three of them.

Edward put a hand on her shoulder. "We'd have to take her with us," he reminded Anubis.

Anubis sneered. "What is the saying here? It is what it is. We'll make due."

Edward turned to Gwen. She could see both sadness and yearning in his expression. It was clear he didn't want to involve Lenore but had made his decision despite his reservations.

"The offer still stands," he said. "But I know that's a steep price."

"I've traveled with her for over a century since you died. You know not what you're asking."

"Life or death, witch," Qebhet said. "What could be more ssssimple than that?"

Gwen put her face in her hands, steeling herself with what would come next. With what would have to come next. Goddess, may she grant the strength to do it.

"Life," she said. "I choose life."

***

"No, what I'm saying is religion was a lot more real back during the bronze and early iron age. And by real, I mean not metaphysical."

Angelica was swinging the bag of chemistry supplies as they walked, clearly used to using her hands when she got going on a subject and occasionally jumping for emphasis. James wasn't sure if it was her version of pillow talk but apparently, Lenore draining a pint of blood from her wasn't slowing her down.

"I've lived long enough to understand how religions work," Lenore said dryly.

"Of course, but when were you born? The eleventh century? That's after Rome spent almost five hundred years priming Europe for monotheism and centuries of Christianity being the only game in town. When you're talking Babylon or Egypt or Assyria or even Greece those are cultures that believed gods just walked around with us. You could talk to them the way I'm talking to you. No booming voice from the sky. And very little in the way of transitive properties to how you worship."

"Okay, I think I'm following but what's your point?" James asked.

"My point is this has happened before. Look, one of the things that fucked archeology up for a long time is they kept finding really old statues in places they shouldn't have been. Like the stele of Hammurabi? You know that one, right? We translated the Code of Hammurabi from it. That was Babylonian, you know, in Iraq, but it was found in modern-day Iran. Do you know why?"

"Why?"

"It was taken. Because when these cultures went to war they took that stuff back as loot. Not just that, but statues and even entire temples. That stele weighs something like four tons. It'd be like if America was invaded and the bad guys went and took the Statue of Liberty, the Liberty Bell, and even the old Abe out of the Lincoln Memorial."

"They would steal each other's gods?"

"No!" Angelica danced excitedly. "They were stealing their tethers."

James stopped. "How would they know they were tethers?"

"Because this has all happened before! Think about it. You could literally hold a god hostage if you controlled their tether. And if they misbehaved?" Angelica mimed like she was shooting a hostage. "Boom. No more god."

"I heard, the Spanish did that when they invaded the New World," James said. "Melted down everything related to the Aztec religion they could find. The Incas too."

"Yeah, that's my point. Religions have been warring like that forever. So what if destroying another religion's stuff isn't only about replacing their religion with yours or cultural domination but was, not metaphorically, about killing their gods."

"The Christians got very good at that," Lenore remarked.

"Islam too," James agreed. "Remember those Buddha statues the Taliban blew up?"

"Stuff like that has been going on forever," Angelica said. "We tend to think that people in the past were all superstitious rubes that spent a lot of energy on spiritual mumbo-jumbo that doesn't exist. But maybe they knew shit we don't. After all, we know gods are real."

"Yeah, so far they're kind of dicks." James put little stock in theoretical knowledge. His life was one driven by the practical and tangible. Angelica's theories on religious history were interesting though, he had to admit.

"How do you know all this?"

"Religious studies major, minor in history," Angelica said. "I'm not interested in one religion but, like, all of them. The whole dang concept."

"So you think, because we know at least a few gods are real, that they were real throughout history?"

"It makes the most sense. The ancients certainly talked about them as if they were real."

The campus docks were well lit but the area was eerily deserted. The yacht was nestled between a couple of schooners and was inconspicuous enough.

"You have a plan, don't you?" James asked, stepping onto the deck and holding a hand out for Angelica.

"I dunno. Maybe just an idea of—"

"Quiet," Lenore said, putting a hand up.

Both James and Angelica looked at her. He immediately put his hand on the revolver tucked in his jacket.

"We're not alone," the vampire whispered.

The yacht seemed as empty as the docks. The lights were off, which was concerning on its own. Ash was nowhere to be seen.

"Back up," James said quietly. "We're leaving."

"I think not." The voice came from behind them.

They turned to see an older man leaning on a cane. He wore an expensive suit and had a placid expression on his clean-shaven face.

"Who the hell are you?" Angelica said, puffing herself up.

"I'm an old friend of Lenore's." The man was holding a mason jar in his hand. He unscrewed the lid, slipped that into the pocket of his jacket, and set the jar on the dock in front of him.

Lenore glared at him, clearly on edge. "Try again, asshole. I don't know you."

The man smiled tersely. "You did once."

A shadowy figure emerged from the pilothouse of the yacht. It was a black woman, also smartly dressed, her hair tied back in thick braids. She muscled another figure out with her, pulling her by the elbow.

Ash.

Her hands were tied behind her back and a thick strip of tape covered her mouth. Though her eyes were wide with fear under the tangle of blonde hair but she didn't struggle against her captor.

James drew the revolver and leveled it at the black woman.

"Let her go," he ordered. His voice was calm and steady.

"Sssee? I told you he was a warrior." She smiled at him, her long tongue sliding out of her mouth and tasting the air.

The way a snake would.

"Ahh, the annoyance," another voice said from the other end of the yacht. Anubis wore the face of the curator from the museum. He leveled his gaze at James, a sly grin turning his mouth. "Why the long face?"

James instinctively moved between Lenore and Anubis but kept the gun on Qebhet.

They were surrounded but, so far, they were not being attacked.

"Who's the suit?" James asked, motioning to the guy with the cane.

"Your friends used to call me Edward. But, admittedly, that was a while ago."

James looked from Lenore to Ash, both of their faces flashed with recognition. Ash attempted to say something but was muffled by the tape.

"You can't be," Lenore said, squinting as she studied Edward. "How?"

"Oh, it's a long story."

"Nice to meet you," James said, still training the gun on who he presumed was Qebhet. "Heard a lot about you. Where's Gwen? Or do I have to kill you to get to her?"

"We were hoping to resolve this peacefully," Edward said. "My compatriots' attempts at violence haven't exactly gone smoothly. Things have gotten messy. Maybe calmer heads can prevail."

"That's a bold assumption," Lenore said.

"Yes," Edward said with a nod. "My friends told me something similar."

"Alright, asshole. Get to the point."

Edward chuckled. "Good man. Direct. I like that. Our proposal is this: Lenore comes with us and, in return, we don't kill the rest of you."

"That's a compelling offer. Do you work in insurance?"

"Please consider it," yet another voice said from the yacht. This one he certainly recognized.

Gwen stepped out of the pilot house. Her eyes were bright and pleading when he met them. She frankly looked exhausted but was not obviously hurt. The sight of her caused him to smile before his brain caught up to the fact that she wasn't restrained. She wasn't being held hostage.

"I told them you'd cooperate."

"Gwen, what the hell are you doing?" Lenore asked. There was no hiding the pain and disbelief on her face.

"Like always: what I must. It's a shame it had to be this way."

Angelica, possessing an affect James hadn't seen before, stepped forward. She'd had enough chit-chat. She held one of the bottles of silver nitrate in her hand.

"Counter offer: How about you all GET FUCKED!" She unscrewed the cap like she was pulling the pin of a grenade.

She threw the plastic bottle of powder at the ground in front of where Gwen and Anubis stood. It hit the deck, bouncing instead of breaking, and landed harmlessly into the water. The small puff of the powder spilled barely dusted their ankles.

"That was adorable," Qebhet said with a snort. "I don't think I'll ever get over how funny humans are!"

"Enough of this nonsense," Anubis said. He waved his hand and Angelica was pulled off her feet. With another sweep of his arm, like he was bowling but bored of it, and the goth girl was launched across the docks.

There was a tumbling thud as she landed on a boat several slips away but James didn't turn to see if she was okay.

Instead, he shot Qebhet in the face.

The big revolver was a Smith & Wesson Governor and was loaded with the custom silver shot .410 shells he'd made early that morning.

Her laughter cut short, Qebhet's head snapped back in conjunction with the boom.

She immediately shrieked in pain, clawing at her face, trying to dig out the tiny pieces of silver embedded there.

Ash, still bound, twisted herself away from the now-distracted goddess and launched herself backward off the yacht, splashing into the freezing water below.

"Lenore! Run!" James screamed, swinging around to fire on Edward who was blocking their only escape.

Before he could get a bead on Edward, a hole opened up in the dock under his feet.

And he fell through.

"Noooo!" Lenore screamed, trying to reach for him as he fell. Her arms felt like they were covered in lead. She couldn't move, she realized. Anubis held her still with that same telekinetic force he'd just demonstrated on Angelica.

"It's okay," Gwen said, soothingly. She waved her hands and the hole in the dock closed. "It's over. It's done."

"I'll fucking kill you, bitch!" Lenore hissed.

"That is incorrect," Anubis said. "It is I who will be killing you."

Lenore had played this game once already with the god of death. She transformed herself into smoke and shot free of Anubis' grasp, magic or otherwise.

Her initial transformation threw her upward, allowing herself to be pushed by the steady harbor winds.

Only she wasn't moving.

In her myst form, her perceptions and movements slowed to that of intelligent smoke. Her mind became as ethereal as her body did.

So when she pointed her perception down, horror is what she should have felt. Instead, when she saw Edward, pointing his cane at her like an orchestra conductor, all she felt was resignation.

She tried pulling away but couldn't. She tried reforming herself but quickly found that she could not do that either.

It was in this manner that Edward, using powers she could scarcely comprehend, pulled her into a condensed, smokey ball, and poured her, as one might pour water, into the open jar at his feet.

It was when he screwed the lid tight, that the dread began to take hold of her.

***

James Faraday landed sideways, with a thud that knocked his breath out, his shoes kicking up dust as he attempted to kick at water he thought he was about to splash into.

It was dark but it was dry.

He looked up at the direction he fell from and saw just a hint of light as a window to the outside closed.

No. Not a window.

That was a portal.

He looked around, picking himself up off the ground. He got only a glimpse of Lenore, looking up at her despite it being sideways against a wall.

The portal finished closing and she was gone.

James was in a cave, one he'd been in before. With Gwen. That meant . . .

James became nauseous at the realization. He was somehow back on Sunstone Island. If he left this cave, he'd walk right into Gwen's garden and then the big house.

"Fuck me," he said. But no one heard him.

Dim lights from still-lit candles illuminated little. The cave was more-or-less a domed chamber, more manmade than natural, although tree roots poked through the roof from the outside.

The altar still sat in the middle of the room, the pieces of the broken tether of Anubis still there inside the circle of salt along with a gold necklace.

James kicked the stone altar, which did nothing, and let out an echoing curse.

When James was barely a teenager and filled with all the same crazy hormones that teenagers get, he made a decision about his life and how he would live it. As far as he could tell, the other kids around him were obsessed with talking and watching.

They complained and gossiped and chatted and texted and bragged.

And if they weren't talking, they were watching. They watched movies and reality TV and YouTube videos and Vines and fail compilations and sports. They watched each other, clucking like hens about who liked who, who was angry with who, who was fucking who.