Omens Bite, page 15
“Oh, I get it! I can cast a quick cloaking spell and not worry about people seeing Khenti and me. Xena, you’re a genius!” Mercy hugged Xena quickly and then disappeared into the pantry. She took a black taper from the basket of spellwork candles and grabbed a box of ritual matches. She shoved both in her boho bag and waved at Xena as she hurried out the door.
“Do not forget my tuna!” echoed after her.
Mercy checked the dashboard clock before she pulled out of their driveway. It was almost eight o’clock, which meant sunset wasn’t far off. It also meant that she had about an hour before Goodeville Sammiches closed.
“Well, that should be enough time. Khenti is probably busy and I want to be his friend, not that annoying witch who keeps bothering him,” Mercy muttered as she put the car in gear and took a right to circle around town. “I have got to remember to get my bloody license!”
Mercy rolled down her window and breathed deeply of the scent of the verdant fields surrounding Goodeville. The air was rich with green, growing things, which soothed Mercy’s frayed nerves like a cup of honey-drenched chamomile tea. The sky had cleared from the brief afternoon shower and the setting sun blushed pink and orange and yellow watercolors. By the time she’d wound around town to the park Mercy already felt less on edge and more like herself. Not that her sadness had decreased. Hunter’s absence was a wound—a raw sore that felt a little like an emotional toothache. Mercy found she had a hard time letting it alone, but kept pressing on it and causing herself more pain.
“So stop it! Stop thinking about Hunter! I’m pretty damn sure she’s not thinking about me.” Mercy pulled into Goode Park’s paved lot and studied the green space in front of her. One of the baseball diamonds was lit up and two teams were in the middle of a softball game. The tennis courts were also busy, though they were on the other end of the park. A group of suburban moms in yoga pants were speed-walking around the track. Basically, it was a pretty busy night at Goode Park. “But my familiar is a very smart kitty.” Mercy slung her purse over her shoulder and got out of the Camry. She’d parked in the far corner of the lot near the stately white oaks, and she hurried to their concealing shadows.
At the oaks Mercy retrieved the black taper from her purse and the ritual matches. The cloaking spell wasn’t particularly difficult, but it did take concentration, power from the ley lines, and shadows. Luckily for me, I have all three things right here. Working quickly and confidently, Mercy grounded herself by drawing and releasing three deep, cleansing breaths. Then she reached down, down, down to find the thick ley line of pulsing green power beneath her feet. It was super easy to hook into the earth power in the park. The palm trees in the middle of the park had been conjured to their position atop the convergence of two strong lines of power to create one of the points of the pentagram that enclosed Goodeville.
Mercy tapped into the power and then lifted her candle. She lit the match and touched it to the dark taper. It caught fire easily and Mercy spoke the familiar words to the ancient spell.
“Come, shadows, cloak me from prying eyes
With the night I am disguised
In darkness you cover me
Neither seen nor heard shall I be!”
After she said the final words of the spell Mercy imagined pulling the power of the ley lines up through her body and into the taper she held. Then she blew out the candle. Immediately the shadows under the trees thickened, stirred, and then surrounded her. Had Mercy been a different kind of a girl, one who hadn’t been raised with magic and witchcraft, it would’ve been creepy to be surrounded by shadows, but Mercy was the product of generations of powerful witches. She smiled at the concealing darkness and felt herself relax. The shadows were like a weighted blanket meant to quiet anxiety, not cause it.
Mercy put the snuffed candle carefully in her purse with the matches. To close the cloaking spell she would light the candle again and release the shadows. Until then Mercy Anne Goode would be indistinguishable from the gloom of dusk. She enjoyed her invisibility as she slowly made her way to the cluster of palms.
I wonder what would happen if I never released the spell. Would anyone even notice that I was gone?
Mercy shook herself mentally. That was a ridiculous way to think. Xena would freak if she was gone, and Em would be super upset.
Would Hunter care?
Mercy pushed that thought from her mind and buried it in the wound her twin’s absence had left.
At the cluster of four trees that made up the doum palm, which guarded the gate to the Egyptian Underworld, Mercy went directly to the center of the group of trees where Khenti had appeared to her twice before. She was nervous, but performing a little witchy housekeeping would settle her. Mercy faced the tree and lifted both of her hands, concentrating on the shadows around her. Using a scooping motion, Mercy’s hands sifted through the concealing darkness—a lot like she was finger painting—and she spread the shadows until they also engulfed that side of the trees. Mercy smiled as she surveyed her work. It seemed she stood in the middle of a dark bubble. She could see through it easily, but Mercy knew that her spell was set. Anyone who glanced at the trees wouldn’t see more than lengthening shadow, or hear anything more than the soughing of the wind, even if they walked close by.
Her palms still tingled with the magic of the cloaking shadows when she pressed them to the dry bark of the center palm. Mercy closed her eyes and readied herself as she opened to the tree. Sadness engulfed her, followed by a deep, flu-like ache in her joints.
“I know,” Mercy murmured to the palm. “I’m sorry. I know you’re hurting. Let me see if I can help—even a little.” She reached down, down, down again to tap into the powerful ley lines that converged beneath her feet and imagined pulling the earth energy up, up, up through her body. Mercy felt the rush of power as a tide of warmth. She gritted her teeth and with all of her witchy might sent the invigorating energy from herself, through her palms, and into the tree.
The power surged. Mercy felt that easily, but as every time before, it fizzled when it should have poured into the tree. She grunted with the effort, not willing to give up, and was rewarded by a slow leak of heat that dripped into the tree. She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, forcing warmth and energy into the cluster of ailing doums, but when she finally broke the ley line connection she felt the tree draw a deep breath—in and out, in and out—and knew that, even if it wasn’t permanent, she’d helped the tree feel a little better.
“I’ll do this again, soon,” she promised the palms. And I’ll also go to the other sick trees. It’s not much, but it’s something. Maybe I can Band-Aid the problem long enough to buy me enough time to figure out how to fix them for good.
Mercy stepped back and wiped the sweat from her face. She stumbled and almost tripped as dead grass crunched under her shoes. Dizzy, Mercy looked down. “Ugh,” she muttered. “I didn’t even notice that the grass all around the trees is dead.” Mercy stared at the ground. Like sludge-filled arteries pumping from a diseased heart, blackened grass extended from the doums. “Gross. It’s spreading.” Mercy sighed, feeling so exhausted that only then did she realize the effort it had cost her to force energy into the trees. “Worth it,” she said resolutely. “It’s totally worth a little tiredness.” Her hands were shaking and she was glad for her giant boho bag from which she fished out a bottle of water. Mercy gulped it down and felt a little better. Next time I’ll send some healing power into the grass. Can’t have any attention drawn to the palms. She flipped back her hair, and then held the thick length off her neck and fanned herself to dry the sweat. Her hands had stopped trembling, so she took a couple steps back, smoothed her crop top—yay for her super cute outfit from school!—then she straightened her shoulders, cleared her throat and called, “Khenti? Are you there? It’s me, Mercy.”
Nothing happened. No luminous swirling oval of color materialized. No warrior’s roar sounded from within the trees.
When Mercy tried again she decided to use his formal title—there was magic to a person’s true name, no matter what world they were from.
“Khenti Amenti, son of Upuant, Guardian of Osiris’s realm, it is Mercy Anne Goode, Green Witch and Guardian of the Goodeville gates. I call to you!”
A hum resonated from the center of the palms and then with the sound of a woman’s sigh, the glowing gate between worlds became visible. On the other side of the barrier Mercy could just make out a figure striding quickly toward her. As he got closer she could see that it was Khenti. His reptile head looked magnificently fierce, and he held a long, sharp-tipped spear, but as soon as he caught sight of her he shifted from otherworldly guardian to boy.
“I greet you Gatekeeper and Green Witch, Mercy!” He smiled and bowed.
“And I greet you, Khenti.”
Khenti squinted as he peered past Mercy. “Has another creature escaped into your realm?”
“Oh, uh, no! Nothing like that. I was just, um, passing by and I thought I’d say hi. So, hi!” Mercy lifted a hand and waved. Then she wanted to take that same hand and smack herself. I was just passing by? Could I sound any more awkward? She hurriedly added, “And I remembered that I promised to let you know how my magic test went.”
Khenti’s response made the heat in her cheeks cool. Even through the glistening barrier between them, his smile flashed. “This is a welcome surprise. I was just thinking of you.”
“You were?”
He nodded. “Yes, I hoped that you were well and not as sad as last time we spoke.” He cocked his head and studied her. “How are you, Mercy?”
Mercy bit her lip and didn’t say anything for a moment. Isn’t it wrong to dump my problems on him? I don’t even really know him …
As if he could read her mind, Khenti stepped closer to the opalescent barrier. “Mercy, please, you may share your feelings with me. We are friends, are we not?”
“Yeah, we are.” Mercy moved her shoulders restlessly. “So, the truth is that I wasn’t passing by, and didn’t just come to tell you my magic test went well. Really well. The truth is I’ve been sad today and Xena—um, she’s my familiar. Do you know what that is?”
Khenti nodded. “A creature that is a gift from the gods.”
Mercy smiled. “That’s a great description. I’ll have to share it with Xena when I go home. Anyway, Xena thought that it would make me less sad to say hi to you. So, here I am. I hope I haven’t interrupted anything.”
Khenti put the blunt end of the spear he carried against the ground and leaned on it. “Not at all. It pleases me that your familiar thought to send you to me, and I am also pleased to know your magic is well.” He paused and cocked his head as if listening to a whisper. “The gate feels less ill. Not well. But not as sick as earlier today when I was forced to burn healing incense to stop the rot that spilled from it. Is that because of a spell you cast?”
“Sorta. Before I called you I tried to channel some earth power into the trees.” She let out a long sigh. “It didn’t work great, but I could tell that the trees felt a little relief.”
“That is something,” said Khenti. “So, your magic is well and good.”
She nodded. “It’s really good when I cast any spell that doesn’t involve the trees, which is super frustrating because that’s when I need it to work most.”
“It is a puzzlement,” agreed Khenti.
“I spoke to my patron goddess, Freya, and she basically told me that I have to find my path, and when I do then I’ll find the way to fix the trees.”
“Was your goddess no more specific than that?” Through the swirling barrier Mercy could see his brow furrowed with concern.
“No. Freya is big on free will, which means I have to figure stuff out on my own.”
“Ah, yes, the complexities of free will. Father and I were just discussing that subject last night.”
“Are you for or against?” asked Mercy.
“I am my mother’s son and most definitely for. My father, Upuant, is a complicated demi-god.” Khenti looked away as he spoke about his father. “He tends to be cynical. I champion mortals. He is of the mind that most mortals are too limited in their understanding of the world to do well with free will.”
Mercy thought about how ludicrous Hunter was acting and muttered, “I can’t say he’s entirely wrong. My sister is exercising her free will to be a total bitch.” She sighed and mentally shook herself. “Anyway, Freya didn’t give me specifics, but she did make me realize that I have to stop obsessing about what Hunter is or isn’t doing, and focus on myself—on my path. Oh! Freya did gift me with the ability to communicate with Xena, though, so that’s pretty awesome.” Mercy smiled as the memory of Xena’s voice echoed through her mind.
The young warrior blinked in surprise. “Xena! Is she the human who was here just a few days ago? She was part of a ritual casting, and she hissed at me.”
Mercy’s smile widened to laughter. “Yeah, that’s Xena. Only she’s not really a human. She’s only taken human form since my mom died. She’s really a cat.”
Khenti grinned. “Now the hissing is much more understandable! Is your familiar a demi-god? The only felines in my world that can take human form are gods or demi-gods.”
“Well, until recently I would’ve said no, bloody hell, no Xena is not a demi-god—she’s just a really, really old cat, but now I wonder … Though I’m not sure I actually want to know.”
Khenti nodded. “Demi-gods can be a handful.”
“More proof that she’s probably one.” They laughed together. “Well, Xena was right. You’ve already made me feel better.”
“And you me.”
“Were you having a crappy day, too?” Mercy stepped a little closer as she struggled to get a clear view of Khenti, though looking through the shifting barrier was frustratingly like trying to watch a pixelated TV screen.
Khenti shrugged his broad, bare shoulders. “Lately it has been difficult here. The gods and goddesses are unusually restless and demanding. And there was more to my conversation with my father than just discussing the free will of mortals.” Khenti sighed. “I often wonder how he could have ever been with my mother, as she is mortal and he has such disdain for them.”
“I’m sorry. ’Rental problems can be tough.”
Khenti cocked his head to the side. “’Rental?”
“Oh, sorry. Short for parental units. Mothers and fathers.”
“Ah, indeed, very true.” He squinted and looked past Mercy again. “Your world appears odd tonight. I can usually see trees and greenery behind you, but this night all I see is darkness.”
“Oh, that’s just my cloaking spell. It’s sunset here and this gate is in the middle of a busy park. It was either cast this conceal spell or make it rain. Again. And this seemed like the better of the two choices. Plus, I didn’t want to get soaked.”
Khenti’s dark eyes gazed up and down the length of her. “It would be a shame to soak your unusual, but beautifully adorned clothing.”
“Oh, thanks! I embroidered the jeans myself.” Mercy made a little flourish and bowed.
Khenti leaned forward so that his face almost touched the barrier between them. “I wish I could see the design better.”
“Well, I wish I could see what’s behind you better. All I can make out is a bunch of colors.”
Khenti straightened. “Then cross over! I would very much like to welcome you to my world.”
A wave of excitement washed over Mercy. “Really? I can just come over?”
“Yes!” Khenti shuffled his feet and looked down. “I hope you do not mind, but I made an inquiry since last we spoke. You may cross the barrier between our worlds and visit here for no longer than from one mark of the sundial to another without any ill effects.”
“Seriously?”
His gaze trapped hers. “I will never lie to you, Green Witch Mercy.” Khenti lifted his hand and held it out to her. “Come. It is simple. Take my hand and let me show you the colors of my world.”
Mercy didn’t give herself time to think. She was done thinking and overthinking and thinking again. She pushed her hand into the barrier. Like before, it didn’t feel like much of anything. But this time Khenti didn’t just press his palm against hers. He grasped her hand and pulled, very gently. Mercy held her breath and stepped into the glistening maelstrom of light as she allowed Khenti to guide her through the glowing barrier.
Sixteen
“You may open your eyes now.”
Mercy had to blink several times—the light and color of Khenti’s world was a jarring contrast to the dusk and shadows she had just left. When her vision finally cleared she gasped in delight. “Oh, Freya! This is amazing!” She realized she still held Khenti’s hand, which she quickly dropped.
“Welcome to Osiris’s realm, the Land of the Dead.” Khenti bowed deeply to her and as he straightened his smile beamed.
Mercy stared at him. With no barrier between them she realized that, minus his dragon head, Khenti wasn’t freakishly tall. He was basically normal height—just a few inches taller than her five-foot-seven. His mostly bare body was in amazing shape, but what was most striking were his dark, compassionate eyes. But not even Khenti’s gorgeous eyes could keep Mercy’s gaze from shifting around them. She turned in a slow circle, breathing deeply of the spicy-sweet incense, hardly able to believe the splendor that surrounded her. “What is this? A palace?”
“Yes, I suppose you could describe this part of the Land of the Dead as a palace, though temple is more accurate—one that stretches on infinitely. Within this temple’s walls the dead arrive and are judged and sorted, according to the lives they have lived and the writings in their Books of the Dead.” Khenti’s gaze followed hers. “There are parts of the temple that make this chamber look rather simple, though.”
