Layla studied the black jackal with a thoughtful frown, her eyes flicking back and forth between the very real deity and her husband.
"Now what?" she asked.
"No idea. He's staying." Marc ran a hand through his hair, messing it up a little more. "Osiris hasn't come breathing down our necks, or sent someone to do it for him, so we're currently quite… okay?"
She interlaced their fingers, squeezing the hand. "You seem to collect them," she teased, though her eyes reflected her own tension. "Or all those gods are attracted to you. For some obscure reason."
Khonshu shot her a warning look. Anubis was still in canine form and had been silent throughout Marc's explanations.
"Don't even start." She glared.
"I wouldn't," was the huffed reply.
"Oh, you would. You actually are."
Marc just shook his head. "How about we ignore the jackal in the room and decide what to do about the Unholy that started the whole mess?"
Layla gave Khonshu a last, dark look, which was ignored.
"You really want to go back there?" she asked. "You almost didn't make it out the first time."
"Yeah. And I know. I had a lot of time to think about it. I don't want to. Believe me, I really don't. This whole magic stuff nearly took Khonshu and I don't want to risk him and us again." He scrubbed a hand through his hair. "But we have to check it sometime. We didn't expect to run into magical defenses and stolen ushabti, so no one was prepared. There's probably a lot more dangerous stuff than just the Unholy. And that's mostly guesswork, because we don't even know that Wyckoff has it."
"I tried to find out more about him, but no one has seen him in almost a decade," Layla added. "He's a ghost in that regard."
Marc nodded. "I didn't see anyone either and the house looks like no one has lived in it forever, though it's clean. Anubis' ushabti hasn't been a recent acquisition either. While he can't give us a time and date, from what he could tell us, he's been there for probably twenty to thirty years."
Layla whistled softly.
"And he never saw Wyckhoff himself."
"Weird. I'd think he would browse his collection or show people around. Could there be another ushabti?"
Anubis' ears flattened briefly. Khonshu looked tense and dark.
"I… didn't see one. Or sense one," Marc said slowly.
"You could feel him?"
Marc grimaced. "Not Anubis in particular, no. I can't tell them apart. Only… that the ushabti was more than just a pretty piece of stone. It felt… almost alive." He shrugged.
"Oh." Layla appeared thoughtful. "Interesting. Is there any way to check if all of those prisons are still present and accounted for?"
Anubis winced a little, ears twitching.
"No," Khonshu told her darkly.
"We can't sneak in. I bear Khonshu's signature. Very prominently. The moon energy… is inside me. They'd know I'm there the moment I jump into the Chamber, and Osiris would throw more than the book at us," Marc added with a grimace.
"What about, y'know, Naf?" Layla asked.
The weathered skull seemed to darken. "She is the avatar of a demon-god."
Anubis' head shot up and his mouth opened, then clamped shut again. But his expression said it all: he was stunned, baffled and shocked in one.
"That means…?" Layla prompted.
"She stands out. She is a bond-mate, her energy signature as bright and her presence within the Chamber as unwanted and not tolerated as Marc's."
"Too bad. She'd make the perfect spy."
Marc snorted a little laugh. "Yeah."
"Demon-god," Anubis finally whispered, voice rough. "Apophis dwells in this realm?!"
"Kind of." Marc met the white eyes. "Got a problem?"
The tall ears flattened to the narrow head. "You have encountered him… and he has chosen an avatar? He has a bond-mate?!"
"Kind of," he repeated levelly.
Anubis' white gaze transferred to Khonshu, who stoically met the narrowed eyes, refusing to comment.
"Have you allied yourself with the shadow beast?"
"Storytime later. We got bigger problems now than who met who."
He felt a few spikes coming from Khonshu, but the moon god was remarkably controlled. Courtesy of having two anchors, he thought, shooting the entity a quick half-smile.
"Right now we need someone to check on those ushabti. Someone who won't set off any alarms."
Maybe we could ask Taweret to check? Steven suggested all of a sudden.
Khonshu stared at him, a hint of the moon deep in his hollow sockets, and Layla's brows rose, which prompted Marc to translate.
"Could she?" his wife asked, eyes on the moon god.
"Possible."
"But…?"
Khonshu shifted, clearly not happy with the idea of asking for help.
"Would she break a Law?" Layla wanted to know.
"No."
"So we ask."
There was only silence. Layla rolled her eyes and Marc shared a commiserating look. His soul-bound god, ladies and gentlemen. Too proud for his own good; or too temperamental and hotheaded. Take a pick. Khonshu had grown a lot lately, had himself under more control than before, but he still had the mentality of a three-year-old sometimes.
Steven moved closer, asking a wordless question, and Marc let him front.
"She would do it," he declared. "And what if Osiris finds out? It's vitally important to know if other ushabti have been removed and replaced by fakes. How come no one ever noticed Anubis' ushabti was gone? Who took it? When? This is a massive security breach, whether it was an avatar, a former avatar, or someone else."
The jackal nodded. "I agree."
"Can Osiris do something about Anubis' presence here in this realm?" Layla suddenly asked.
"No," was Khonshu's hard, decisive answer.
She crossed her arms. "That means there's no risk for him, even if your former boss finds out about what happened right under his nose. Anubis is safe. And really, you guys can't get into even more trouble with the guy. So there."
Steven grinned. "Yes. So there. I can hop over to the Duat, ask Taweret, she can check, and then we'll know for sure."
Khonshu's presence over the bond reflected how unhappy he was about it. "The Duat," he growled.
"Yes, the Duat. Unless there is another way to talk to Taweret? And it's just a short visit." Steven met the empty sockets with an unwavering resolve to do this. "I know you don't trust in my safety, but I will always be safe there, Khonshu! And my jumps are perfectly accurate! I can do this!"
Marc just sat back, watching and waiting. It was an old argument and Khonshu reacted to the possibility of Steven jumping over to the Duat with an almost Pavlovian reflex.
Steven crossed his arms in front of his chest. "We need to know if more ushabti were taken!" There was that stubborn line forming between his eyes that Marc knew only too well.
"Find another way!"
"There is none! This is the most reasonable and logical one, and you know it, too. Bloody pigeon!"
Khonshu's displeasure made itself known by a tower of books and magazines falling over.
"Very mature!"
Rags whipped up and the god towered over his avatar, looking foreboding and dark. A few years ago it would have sent Steven into a panicky mode, but they were past this. Long past. He knew Khonshu, could feel every nuance in the other essence, and he understood the worry, understood the bad memories that they all shared.
"I'm not in any danger," Steven added, voice calmer and very, very reasonable. "You know that, Khonshu. An avatar can enter the Duat and not end up in the sands with the damned. I won't misjudge a jump. It's safe and I'm going to go there!"
The god was clearly fighting old, old demons, as well as his distrust of any other realm and his avatar's safety, but Steven also felt the urgency, the need to know.
"Trust me," he implored.
"I do," was the rough answer, accompanied by a wave of emotions that spoke lengths.
"Stop being an insufferable mother-hen, you bloody old bird," he said, without anger or malice.
"When you stop being an idiot."
Steven's expression softened, eyes reflecting empathy and understanding. His smile grew as he met the endless sockets, as the winds died down and Khonshu lost some of his tension.
"Just trust me."
The deity reached out and caressed a gentle knuckle along his temple. "I do," he repeated, voice low and thrumming through Steven on a very different level. "You are the careful one, but you are prone to impulsiveness."
Steven summoned his suit and Mr. Knight brushed over his spiffy outfit, smiling behind the mask.
"I am always careful, but this trip is absolutely safe. Taweret is safe."
Khonshu grunted. He couldn't argue with that.
"Ready?" he called cheerfully.
And then he jumped.
Khonshu exchanged a look with Anubis, then followed.
Layla crossed her arms in front of her chest, a scowl on her features. "Typical," she muttered.
There was a silent snort next to her and she looked at the black canine deity sitting beside her.
"I'd ask if you want coffee, but I suppose you don't eat or drink, like every god?"
"Correct."
"Well, I do." She walked over to the kitchen and used the nifty little machine Marc had bought to make herself a specialty coffee. Marc preferred black, Steven alternated between tea and coffee, and Layla loved the specialty pods.
She settled down with a steaming mug in hand, looking at the former god of the afterlife.
"You have questions," Anubis stated, sounding amused.
"Of course I do."
"You are also quite accepting of a god in your mate's home."
"Another god," she corrected him. "Because after Khonshu and Ammit, you're actually… normal." Layla shrugged. "Khonshu's with Marc twenty-four seven. All day, all night, every day," she translated at his expression of light confusion. "I can see him, which was a little disconcerting, but I got used to it. You are… kind of normal, I'd say?"
"Your ability to perceive us is unusual."
Layla smiled innocently.
"You would make a strong avatar to one of us."
She shook her head. "Nope. Hope you're not looking for one, because I'm not on the market."
"I am not."
"Good."
He cocked his head. Layla took that as an invitation to start asking the million and one questions on her mind.
"Steven Grant!" Taweret spread her arms and beamed at him. "Welcome to the Duat! I'm so happy to see you!" Her cheery façade suddenly dropped, as did her arms. "Unless this is another accident and I need to get you back to your very protective soul-bound."
"No, no!" He waved her off, chuckling. "This is an intentional visit."
"I would hope so! Because accidents have happened way too often to you! No wonder your god is always so tense and protective." She smirked. "He really needs to learn to relax, doesn't he?"
Steven grinned. "Khonshu knows we are here. He's probably lurking somewhere."
"Of course! Marc Spector, too! There is always two. I'm very happy to see you too, of course, Marc," she declared with a flourish, waving.
Marc, who was keeping a low profile in the mind-realm, just smiled tightly.
"So to what do I owe this honor of your visit, Steven?" Taweret asked brightly.
He looked at the dunes below the boat, felt the wind on his face; the only exposed skin as the rest was covered in the suit. Standing on the roof of the deceptively small barge house, Steven sent an apology to Marc.
"Before… before I get to that… may I ask you a question?"
Taweret settled down beside Steven, her robes flowing around her. "Of course! Ask away! And since when do you ask? You are always such a curious soul." She smiled widely and Steven ducked his head a little.
"It's about the afterlife and your job."
Steven? What the heck?
He ignored the other, silently begging him to just give him that moment. Marc met the imploring gaze, then nodded.
Alright. Whatever this is about…
She shrugged. They had talked about so many things, including the Duat, in the past already.
"When a soul passes, they come here. You greet each one and guide them."
She nodded.
"Do you remember them all?"
Do not ask about her! Marc suddenly hissed. Steven, I swear, if you mention her name…
"Marc, please," he whispered, briefly looking inward and meeting the angry gaze. "It's not about her…"
The other swallowed hard, expression wavering. There was a sudden vulnerability there, and it broke Steven's heart that even now, when they were so close and so whole, Marc would shy away from certain aspects of his past.
"Trust me?"
You know I do. Just…
"I know." He reached for the other, trying to quiet the turmoil that was so clear to see and feel.
Taweret watched them, her demeanor suddenly so very serious. When Steven turned toward her, she nodded.
"Yes, I remember those who passed through since I took over the bridge, so to speak," she answered his earlier question. "Everyone else before that, when it was Anubis or Osiris in charge, well, there is a book. A really big book. We keep records of all souls that enter this afterlife."
Steven chewed his lower lip. "You were in charge when it happened," he said softly.
"Oh?" The ears perked a little more. "Who?"
He ran nervous fingers along the cuffs of his ceremonial suit. Marc was strung as tight as a bow, but he kept his silence. The nervous energy radiating off of him was almost palpable.
"Marc… you know Marc and I are… well, different?"
Taweret gave him a soft smile. "Yes, honey, I know. Khonshu is one lucky duck to have landed such a wonderful avatar in you and Marc."
Steven ducked his head a little.
"You are a fully intact soul, Steven Grant, not just the creation of a traumatized mind. Marc was born with a unique… condition. One I rarely see, if at all. At least in this well-balanced, equal way. The human mind can rarely deal with more than one soul. It fractures and creates schisms. You found your balance. Through very… interesting means, but you are whole and together."
"There… was once another," he whispered. "Once. We weren't… very healthy back then."
Marc was suddenly stock still, frozen, eyes impossibly wide.
Taweret's ears flicked sharply and she blew her nostrils wide. "A third? A third soul? A… a trinity? Oh dear…"
"Yes. And no. There were three…, but no awareness of one another. And there was a painful imbalance. Marc never knew. He knew about me. He… was aware of me, though I wasn't aware of him until… uhm, well, the whole Ammit-Harrow disaster. But his third… he never knew him. He knew us, though. He always protected us. He was the one who went into the worst situations and he… I… I met him briefly, just once, just for a moment, and he told me to run. He would hold up Ammit. And he did."
"Oh, Steven…" she whispered. She wrapped an arm around his smaller form and hugged him gently, carefully. "I am so, so sorry!"
"He sacrificed himself so that we could live to fight. He told me to find Marc… and Khonshu… to do what we did best. I wonder if he knew about the imbalance. If he understood… that… that…" He trailed off, feeling his throat tighten.
Something passed through him, something powerful and something not Marc. Khonshu, he realized. Memories had kicked loose within the entity who was so closely interwoven with them, emotional spikes that were felt even here in the Duat. Warmth wrapped around his soul, around Marc's soul, and he briefly leaned into that.
Jake's sacrifice hadn't left Khonshu untouched or unaffected. He had known the unknown alter, but they had never talked about him in detail. Only that he had been there for the worst of the worst, for situations Marc had been unable to deal with. Their ultimate, lethal protector.
"And you want to know if he passed through here?" Taweret drew him out of his thoughts, voice so infinitely gentle.
He nodded. Marc was a tense presence within, hands clenched into fists. Steven wanted to fall back into the core, wrap his arms around the other man and just hold him. He wanted to share the pain and the burden, but he couldn't. Not yet.
"Steven, the Duat is an afterlife, not the afterlife."
"I know."
"Those who pass through here are not all the souls that leave the realm of the living. There are other… entrances. I did mention the ancestral plane, right? A beautiful, beautiful place! But also not the only one. There is also Valhalla. Or Tlālōcān. So many, many places. It is a matter of belief sometimes. Or ancestry. There are many, many factors. And some never arrive in any place."
Steven looked a little stricken. "He… he might be lost?!"
She carefully rubbed the slightly bowed back. "No one is ever lost, Steven. But wherever he went, whether he passed through here or somewhere else, you cannot follow."
"I know. I know, Taweret! I just… if he was judged and he was cast into the sands…"
Marc was suddenly right there, without fronting, and he wrapped himself around the distraught soul of his alter, calming him as he tried to calm himself.
"He sacrificed himself," Taweret told him softly. "A noble act. An act that would balance his soul against whatever other deed he did. He was Khonshu's avatar, too, correct?"
He nodded.
"What is his name?"
"Jake. Jake Lockley."
Taweret hugged him once more, then rose and walked over to the raised stand that held the scales where she weighed the soul's heart against a feather. She pulled a book from a compartment and Steven scrambled to his feet. He hurried over and peered at the ancient pages, all filled with neat hieroglyphs. He was still learning to read them more fluently and he was getting better, but these looked a little different.
"He is not a lost soul," she declared.
Marc and Steven expelled a breath.
The goddess gave them a bright smile. "Good news! But he also didn't pass through here. I would have remembered someone looking like you, honey." There was an apologetic note to her voice. "I am so sorry."
"He might be somewhere else?"
"Most likely."
"But you don't know?"
"I know he is somewhere."
Steven closed his eyes and Marc just held him.
It's all we can know.
Taweret nodded. She knelt down and wrapped him in a careful hug. It was warm, compassionate, and so very empathetic. It touched not only Steven but also Marc, who felt himself relax all of a sudden. A smile crept over his features.
Thank you, Taweret.
Her eyes seemed to meet his. "You are very welcome, sweety."
"Okay," Steven said softly as she released them. He straightened, expression decisive. "He wasn't judged unfairly. He wasn't damned. That's what I wanted to know."
She rose and closed the book. "Oh, well, then… mission achieved!" Taweret declared brightly, mood back to chipper and happy. "Now… I refuse to believe you just hopped over to ask that question, important as it may be to you. Or that Khonshu would be absent this long if you had just willy-nilly come for tea and cookies."
"Oh. Right. We… we need your help."
Taweret fractionally cocked her head. "My help? With what?"
"Something a little… left of legal and quite unusual."
She blinked.
So Steven started to explain.