Read Unchosen Online

Authors: Michele Vail

Tags: #Young Adult, #Fantasy

Unchosen (12 page)

“Limbo is off-limits to anything or anyone else. The only way to get in there is to be a wounded soul,” said Rath. “Souls are cosmic energy, and not even limbo can hold unlimited power. Every five thousand years, a portal opens into limbo, and lasts about a day. Set was the first one to figure out that the gods could slip into limbo—and use the lost souls to super-charge.”

I frowned. “Super-charge?”

Ally gasped, and pressed her hands against her mouth. Barbie looked pissed.
What?
Yeesh! What had I missed?

“You mean it’s like a buffet?” accused Barbie. “The gods go in there and eat souls like they’re all-you-can-eat crab legs?”

My gorge rose, and a pit opened wide in my stomach. What a terrible, terrible thing to know. Had Anubis indulged in this ravaging of human souls to give himself a boost of godly power? The whole thing sickened me.

“That’s one way to look at it, Barbie,” said Rath. “That’s how Set started the war with Anubis. He got into limbo, pumped up his power with human souls, and then managed to recruit a lot of reapers to his cause.”

This part I knew about. Even my aunt, Anput, had been swayed by her uncle. She’d been the ultimate betrayer of her brother. What was she now? Truly repentant? Or angling for another way to screw over Anubis and get her own powers amped up?

“All those people … all those zombies,” said
Ally softly. She looked up, her face pale and her lips trembling. “We’re all the walking dead. We’re just … microwaveable meals.”

“The gods don’t want to eat you,” said Rath.

“Set does,” said Barbie. “I’ve read enough history and mythology to know he doesn’t like humans. He’s a total asshole.”

While
Ally, Rath, and Barbie debated the appetite and motives of the gods, I thought about Set. And then there was my dream/nightmare/portent … oh, shit. Oh, shit. My heart started to thud.

Set had been in the pit of the Underworld for a long time. Sure, he’d always planned to escape … but that escape had picked up some urgency. He needed souls to get enough power to bust out, but to defeat Anubis and destroy humans he’d need those souls in limbo.

All of them.

“We are so screwed,” I said. I swallowed the knot in my throat, and tried to keep the tremble out of my voice. “Set’s going to escape.”

 

 

 

 

Molly’s Reaper Diary

Secrets, Lies, and Alibis

 

L
IFE IS MESSY. It’s not like I ever tried to put my life into boxes. I know some people do that—they try to make sense of everything by organizing thoughts and actions into categories that they can put on mental shelves. I don’t think you can organize life. Life has too much uncertainty to be controlled even on the most basic of levels. And that’s
life
, and not death. Death is, like, triple the chaos of life. At least from the reaper perspective.

The point is that sometimes you think you have it all figured out (you don’t … welcome to maturity … yeah, it sucks). You have a plan, or a plotted course, or a line on a map that ends in a little “x” for your destination. Then WHAM! Life punches you in the face.

We don’t always get choices. Or when we do get choices, it’s deciding between what’s bad and what’s worse. I’m not trying to freak you out. However, you need to understand and be prepared to make difficult decisions. You may get hurt, and you may hurt others.

At the end of the day, you have to do what’s best, what’s right, even if it costs you everything.

 

 

 

 

“Good and evil are woven together and where the edges meet, there is only gray. Even good people are capable of heinous acts. Be warned: For those souls that dwell too long in life’s gray, the judgment of Maat awaits.”

 

~
Secret History of Reapers, Author Unknown

 

 

 

“I never judge my friends. You are who you are. Love is not earned, damn it. It’s a gift.”

 

~Georgia Treese, author of
Don’t Pee on My Roses

 

 

 

 

Chapter 12

 

“WAY TO BE
positive, Molly,” said Ally. “Aren’t we trying to prevent another reaper war and keep Set imprisoned?” She pointed to the book in the middle of our circle. “We just need to figure out why Mom stole the pages from the book, and why she needed that particular spell.”

             
“The reaper wars were such a long time ago, that it’s not even part of necro or human histories,” I said.


It’s been about 5,000 years,” said Rath. “Damn. The portal will open soon. That’s why Set’s minions are collecting human souls. He needs enough power to break out of the prison and get to limbo before it’s off limits again.”

“Anubis knew one day Set would escape,” said Barbie.

“True,” agreed Rath. “All the gods knew. Maat gave the prophecy just days after Set was captured.”

“How do you know that?” I asked.

“You’re not the only one with access to the reaper histories,” said Rath. He smirked. “Have you even opened the book yet?”

“You know about the book?”

“I’m a reaper, brown eyes. Plus, I saw it in your room. It was on the floor, holding your closet door open.”

“What book?” asked
Ally.

Barbie glanced at me. “He was in your room? Doing what, exactly?”


The Secret History of the Reapers
,” I said, ignoring Barbie’s questions. “Anput gave it to me.” I narrowed my gaze and glared at Rath. “And I’ve been reading it.”

He lifted one black brow, his smirk widening.

“You have some kind of awesome reaper book and you’re using it as a doorstop?” Ally asked. If there was anything that made her little geeky heart palpitate—it was the prospect of a reading a dusty old tome, even one that looked like an anvil and weighed a ton.

I held up my hands in a “stop” gesture. “Move on, people. We have more important things to worry about.”

“Fine,” said Ally. “Why can’t the gods fight Set and leave us humans out of it?”

“Yeah. We see how
that
worked out for the last war,” I said. “Anubis gifted the humans with magic for a reason.” I looked at Ally. I knew her brain worked ten times faster than my own.

“Protection,” she offered. “Power in numbers. Or rather, power in intact souls. Some humans get magic—with the intent of helping the reapers stop Set for round two.” She glanced at me. “But … that still doesn’t explain Molly being the
Kebechet
.”

“Molly’s half-god,” said Rath. “She’s got the strength and power of Anubis, the magic of a full reaper, and the thoughts and actions of a human. To win against Set, we need both gods and humans. Molly’s the bridge between the two worlds.”

“Awesome,” I said. I was the daughter of Anubis, and I was supposed to be the one to save the human race.

We were in serious trouble.

The whole impending doomsday scenario seemed so huge that I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. The truth was that for all my “yeah, I’m meeting my destiny” thinking, I was afraid.
Terrified.
On the verge of a panic attack every other second. I sucked in a breath and blew it out heavily. Rath reached over and gripped my shoulder. His support (and okay, his touch) calmed me down. It also caused my sister and my friend to stare a little harder at me. Barbie waggled her eyebrows.

Oh, I knew what she was thinking.

Like having boyfriend drama was more important than end-of-the-world planning. Look, I didn’t want to die, but I wasn’t scared of death. I’d actually been on the other side—well, as far as I could go. For humans, transformative death was leaving your mortal vessel and elevating your consciousness into a different reality. Real death was complete obliteration. It was not thinking, feeling,
existing
ever again.

If I completely disappeared because Set gobbled up my soul like a Hershey’s chocolate kiss, then I was truly dead.

“Let’s not focus on the big picture,” said Ally. “Let’s focus on a smaller problem. How can we help Aunt Lelia?”

That wasn’t exactly a small problem.

“I can help,” said Barbie.

“You know a
sheut heka
?” asked Rath.

“Sorta.” She looked at me, and then looked away. She offered a small sigh. “You trusted me with your secrets, so now I’m going to trust you with mine.” She pulled up her black lace sleeves, showing the thin scars on her forear
ms. Some looked older than others, the flesh white and puckered. Other cuts looked recent, still pink and puffy.

“You’re a cutter?” asked
Ally.

“Not you like think,” said Barbie. “
Sheut hekas
must make blood offerings to use their powers. A sacrifice is the only way to create or break shadow bindings.” Barbie rolled her sleeves back down. “I’m listed in the rolls as a
ka heka
. Everyone knows how necromancers feel about
sheut hekas
. Like we can only do evil, or whatever. My parents and Miss Chiles know about my real
heka
power … and now you guys.”

“Wow, Barbie,” I said. “That’s … well … holy crap!”

“I’ve had sixteen years to get used to it,” she said. “My parents are the ones who are always super freaked. They worry someone will find out and either make me a bad guy’s evil minion or just kill me.” She looked at us, her gaze serious. “No one else can know.”

“Got it,” I said. “I’m so with you.” I knew exactly how Barbie felt about harboring such a big personal secret. Maybe that’s why she’d come to me about directly instead of including the whole group in a
heka
intervention. Barbie knew what it was like to be burdened by something you didn’t choose for yourself.

“Can you really free Lelia Briarstock?” asked Rath.

Barbie lifted a shoulder, and her expression revealed uncertainly. “There’s a ritual. But my blood won’t do the trick,” she said. “I need the blood of Lelia’s relatives to call her forth.”

“I’ll give you mine,” I said.

“Wait.” Ally frowned. “You can’t break Lelia’s bond, though, right? If Set bound her to him, you need his blood to free her.”

“Gods don’t have blood,” said Rath. “They’re eternal beings. They can’t be killed because they don’t have vulnerable bodies. They’re made of cosmic energy.”

“My aunt said Set was her master,” I pointed out. “Maybe gods don’t need blood to peel off someone’s
sheut
.”

“Mol, you’re related to Set,” said
Ally. “He’s your … er, Great Uncle, I think. Technically, you have the heredity for both Aunt Lelia and Set.”

I got a cold chill as I was reminded yet again of my bloodline to the god who planned to annihilate humans, reapers, and reality. It was like being told you were related to a serial killer. You feared the genes twined in your DNA. Who knows what would happen if I just … snapped? I could go all machete-crazy on people. The idea was unsettling. And gross. Very, very gross.

“I don’t know anything about releasing a bond between a
sheut
and a god. There might be a different ritual,” said Barbie. “I’ll have to do some research.”

Maybe I could help with that, too, given my direct line to the god world. I would try to call my father again—Anubis, that is—and if that didn’t work (again), I’d annoy Anput until she showed up.

“Gods don’t have souls,” mused Ally. “If you could kill a god, then they would disappear, too. Just like the wounded souls that get eaten at the limbo buffet.”

“You can’t kill Set,” said Rath. “The best we can do is to weaken him enough to imprison him again.”

“What? So he can wait another 5,000 years to try again?” asked Ally. She shook her head. “There has to be a way to…” She trailed off, scrunching her face as she tried to think of the right word. “Ah! To dissipate his energy.”

             
“Whoa,” said Barbie. “If we figure out how to kill a god, we are toast. There’s no way the gods would allows humans to have that knowledge. They would fry all of us.” She looked up at the ceiling, as though the gods might be eavesdropping.

             
“They get to feast on us to replenish their energy, and we don’t get a choice? How is that fair?” demanded Ally.

             
“It’s not,” I said. “But life’s not fair, Ally. So get over it and focus on what we can do for Aunt Lelia.”

             
Ally tried to right anything she deemed wrong—no matter the consequence. I’d seen Ally in full furor about zombie civil rights, and right now, she had that same look in her eye. I didn’t think god-killing was a good cause for her to take up. In fact, the idea scared the hell out of me because Ally was nothing if not persistent. And stubborn. And moronic. If I didn’t protect her from stupid herself—she might end up imploded.

             
“The rest of your aunt’s soul is in limbo,” said Rath quietly. He turned to me, his gaze serious. “If we don’t free her soon and the portal opens up … she’ll become god food along with all the other souls in there.”

             
As a
sheut
, Aunt Lelia gone against the demands of her master and used what little power she could gather to warn me and to comfort me. If the only thing I could do for her was free her to go into the heavens—then I would do whatever it took to make sure she had eternal peace.

             
“Let’s find out everything we can about
sheut
bindings and how to break them,” I said. “We’ll meet up here tomorrow.”

             
We all agreed to meet at the home gym around the same time the next evening. Ally offered to walk Barbie to the front door, and Barbie gave me a quick hug before taking the stairs two at a time. My sister followed more slowly, clutching the book to her chest. I knew she would stay up half the night reading through
Anubis and The Seventh Warrior
, trying to figure out its secrets and spells. And there was the mom factor, too. Ally really didn’t have much—in either memories or mementos—from our mother. No doubt perusing the words written by Cynthia Briarstock would give her some kind of connection to the woman who’d birthed us. Although I had to wonder … did we want that connection?

             
After my sister and friend departed the gymnasium, I was left alone with Rath. We stood on the work-out mats, an arm’s length apart. I don’t know why, but I felt uneasy. The reoccurring dream I had about Rath and I finding Set’s cage seemed to interrupt my sleep every night. The whole thing was so intense.              “You ready for tomorrow?” he asked.

             
“Ugh. Don’t remind me.” Despite everything going on in my life, I was still training hard. Tomorrow, the members vying to enter the
Kebechet
challenge would begin competing to narrow down the prospects. Only six of the Chosen had made it through qualifications. Tomorrow, we would narrow the choices to just two challengers.

I was beginning to worry—just a little—that it might be more than I could handle. Maybe I’d fail at this
Kebechet
thing. And if I did, would I lose the support of Anubis, too? After all, if I couldn’t win against five others with same skills and training—and me with the advantage of being a god-child—what good would I be as the
Kebechet
?

             
Rath stepped forward and took my hands, gently pulling me into his embrace. “You worried about tomorrow?”

             
“Sorta. Actually, I’m more worried about the final challenge. What if I don’t win?”

             
“You can’t think like that, brown eyes,” said Rath. “You have what it takes. You’re smart, fast, and powerful. And too stubborn to quit.” He cupped my face and stared into my eyes. “You have to believe in yourself, Molly. You have to believe that you
are
the
Kebechet
.”

             
“Well, I am,” I said. “Anubis said so. And so did the oracle. And Maat’s prophecy.” I sounded defensive, and I flinched at the whiny tone of my voice.

             
“I’m not talking about other people telling you that you’re the
Kebechet
,” said Rath. “It’s not like being named prom queen or being voted most likely to succeed. What others say about you is irrelevant. You define who you are. You must believe that you are the champion of the Chosen and that you will lead us to victory over Set.”

             
“Why didn’t anybody ask me if I wanted to do this?” Yikes. Whine alert! Whine alert! “Destiny sucks.”

             
“You pledged your service to Anubis,” he reminded me. “Your choice is the same as other necros who have the Anubis dream on their sixteenth birthdays.”

             
“No, it’s not. You know why? Anubis is my real dad. I’m named in a prophecy. And I’m freaking reaper who’s not dead!” I pushed out of his arms and stomped around, anger and fear brewing noxiously inside me. “You know what else didn’t get mentioned? How about that my family was in danger? Or that my mother is in on this whole thing? Or that Anubis would abandon me?” I curled my hands into fists, and executed a sloppy right cross at the heavy bag. I angled my hand wrong, and pain shimmied down my arm. “Shit!”

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