Carrie Vaughn - Kitty in the Underworld

Enkidu’s gaze turned downcast, somber. “We’ve lost so much of the power that we had in ancient days.”

Sakhmet added, “Once, long ago, our kind were worshipped as gods. We were revered.”

“If we still had some of that power,” Enkidu said, “Dux Bellorum would not be as strong as he is.”

“And that’s why you’re here?” I asked. “To get back the power of the gods?”

They didn’t answer. They must have known what it sounded like from the outside. But still, they kept on, because … because what else could they do? If they had any hope that these rituals could defeat Roman, or at least give them the power to defeat Roman, they had to stay. That, I understood.

“You can’t do what Zora’s doing—you can’t work that kind of magic that pokes and prods at someone without drawing attention. Scrying, searching—it works both ways. We might have learned something about Roman, but you can bet he learned something about us. If we know where he is, he might also have discovered where we are and what we’re doing, and if he doesn’t, he at least knows that we’re looking for him. If he thinks we’re a threat, he’ll do something about it. He’s been studying magic for two thousand years, and I don’t care if Zora really is channeling Zoroaster, she’s not as powerful as he is.”

“We’re safe here,” Sakhmet said, soothing. “Zora’s put many protections over this place. We’re underground, hidden—”

“Any shield can be broken with enough time and effort,” I said.

“What do you know about magic?” Enkidu shot back.

“Nothing,” I said, a mad grin on my lips. “But I know some great magicians.”

Sakhmet gathered calm to herself, folding her hands before her, closing her eyes. “We will be watchful. I will speak with Zora about it.”

“Will she listen to you?” Enkidu said.

“I’ll speak gently. ” The opposite of me, in other words. Giving me a sidelong look, she bowed her head to us and left through the tunnel to find the magician.

Enkidu studied me. The attention felt like a challenge. I was tired of meeting his challenges, but I did, because what choice did I have? I glared until he lowered his gaze. As if he wasn’t aware he’d been staring. He was just like that all the time.

I said, “The next time Zora works a ritual against Roman, he’ll be ready. He’ll strike back at us. We’re waging war, there’s going to be a battle.”

“We have to have faith that her magic will protect us.” The words came rote, without any belief behind them.

Faith. And what was that? “Because that’s what you do when you’re dealing with gods. Have faith. Right?”

“If her magic fails, we have our claws and teeth. We are ready.”

One of the bottles of water Sakhmet had given me sat by the wall of the antechamber. It still had water in it, and I was desperate to wash the smoke and soot off my face and out of my eyes. I could imagine that the coating of grime and smoke I felt on me was really a layer of residual magic clinging to my skin, suffocating me. All the washing in the world wouldn’t get rid of it. But I’d start with my eyes, and I’d take a long, much-needed drink. Since I didn’t have anywhere else to go, I sat on the tunnel’s dusty floor, clutching the bottle of water. When it became clear I wasn’t going to try to flee, Enkidu left me alone to another day of trying to sleep, trying to calm my Wolf, who was anticipating the growing moon and ready to burst.

Can Change, can fight our way out. Yes, we could, I reassured her—myself. But not right now. Antony had thought facing Roman was worth risking his life. I couldn’t do any less.

SAKHMET AND Enkidu were right, I’d mostly gotten used to the silver, like I’d gotten used to the darkness-induced headache that never really went away.

The couple must have had their own space in the tunnel system, and they could have stuck me in that holding cell, but they didn’t. Sometime later, they returned to the antechamber, as if together we might feel safer. A surrogate pack or pride. Surrogate for me. Enkidu and Sakhmet already had the kind of pack Ben and I had—our pack of two, I used to call it, when we’d first hooked up, before we’d returned to Denver and taken charge of the pack there.

Sakhmet brought a small drum with her, a bowl shape on a stand that tucked under her arm. It must have been one of the drums I’d heard my first day here. The two of them sat together, and she played softly while humming a melody I couldn’t make out. The drumming was slow, off-rhythm, sounding a little like water rushing in a creek. Soothing. Her gaze distant, she seemed to play for her own comfort. To dispel some of the anxiety that had settled over us. Enkidu watched her, smiling vaguely. His arm settled over her shoulders.

It was a lullaby before bedtime. A way to bring peace before trying to sleep. After maybe twenty minutes, she set the drum aside, and the two of them curled up together. Enkidu wrapped his arm around his mate, she nestled against his body, and he nuzzled her head, breathing in her scent and kissing her above her ear. Eyes closed, she smiled, an expression full of calm and pleasure. I got the feeling she didn’t much care what happened, as long as she and Enkidu were together. I’d felt that expression on my own face often enough, when Ben held me like that and kissed me just to kiss me.

I had to stop thinking about it before I started crying.

Kumarbis and Zora might have been pleased as rock stars at how their rituals were going. But the three of us were fighting instincts, struggling against a tension that made us want to bare our teeth and growl, howl, or roar. Our beasts wanted to flee.

We dozed off, then sat up suddenly, looking at the tunnel leading to the ritual chamber as if we expected to see something there. Hard to sleep, when we felt like we ought to be standing guard.

My thoughts turned. Antony couldn’t stop Roman. What chance did we have? I was desperate for Kumarbis and Zora to know what they were doing. How much trouble would it save, to defeat Roman, here and now? Maybe we’d still have Roman’s puppet master to deal with, but the general and his army would be gone. It was what I and my friends had been fighting for these last few years.

Sakhmet pulled away from Enkidu, found a bottle of water, and sat calmly, drinking. I watched her, and she stared back with eyes that had gone golden, hypnotic. A lion’s eyes. I could see the shape of her lion self in her gaze. I suddenly wanted to see her like that, a sleek tawny creature with a flicking tail and alert ears, taking in everything.

“Can’t sleep, either?” she asked. I shook my head. “I have food.” Plastic crinkled, as she pulled over a grocery bag. Enkidu sat up, rubbing his eyes.

The three of us ate together. Real, human food this time. Sort of. More like camp rations, the deli sandwiches and PowerBars they must have kept packed in a cooler all week. I ate because I had to, not because I was particularly hungry. The food tasted like dust, and my mind drifted to the memory of that deer haunch, rich with blood. Prey. Run, hunt, kill. That would make everything better.

Sleep was one of the mind’s defenses against the unknown, depression, despair. Since sleep had stopped working, I turned to my other defense: talking.

“How does it feel?” I asked around a half-chewed mouthful. “Being this close. Everything you’ve worked for is about to happen. Must feel strange.”

“It’s just another day,” Sakhmet said softly. She ate daintily, dabbing the corner of her lips, licking a crumb off her finger. Focused on the task at hand, unmindful of the surroundings.