Sins of the Flesh

“Soul reapers can’t reproduce. Not even Sutekh’s sons. But somehow, Lokan did. I have a niece. Lokan had a daughter.”


She tipped her head to the side, running through scenarios, trying to pin down exactly what he was saying. Then everything clicked.

The girl Roxy had saved from Frank Marin. The one she’d been so hell-bent to make disappear in plain sight.

“Dana Carr,” she said.

“Dana Krayl,” he corrected softly. Lokan sacrificed himself to save his daughter, he didn’t say. He didn’t need to. Calliope got it.

“The Setnakhts were involved in Dana’s kidnapping,” she said. “Do they believe Sutekh will forgive them for that, that he will forgive the murder of his son if they manage to bring him Topworld once more?”

“Yeah. I guess they do.” Mal exhaled sharply and met her gaze.

“And Roxy and Naphré?”

“Whoever is behind this has gathered the blood of Aset. But I suspect the blood is too weak, too thin. They’ve only killed women who never took first blood. The strongest by far was years ago, when they killed Roxy’s mother. She’d carved the dark mark in her skin, but she wasn’t blooded. She held off because she wanted a kid.”

Calliope felt dizzy. Sick. “Whoever took Roxy wants to sacrifice her. And Naphré.”

“I believe so.”

“And me.”

The look he turned to her was stark. “Yes.”

She felt as though she stood at the edge of a cliff, and if she took a single step forward she would fall. A wise woman would step back.

But she couldn’t. She needed to know.

“Because we are not merely Daughters of Aset. We are marked. We are blooded.”

“And more than that, each one of you has fed from one of Sutekh’s sons. You’ve mixed the blood. It’s never happened before.”

Her thoughts spun a dizzying spiral, coming out the end with a point of blinding clarity. “If our blood could allow Sutekh mortal incarnation, could it bring Lokan back?”

When he said nothing she asked again. “Could it?”

“I don’t know.”

There was a lump in her throat and she could barely breathe around it, barely speak. Her voice came out thin and stretched. “If it comes to a choice, Mal. If killing me, taking my blood…if my blood will bring Lokan back—”

What would he do? If he had the chance to bring his brother back, what would he do?

“We need to go,” he said, his tone tight.

“Where?”

“The meeting of allies.”

That was not what she had been expecting him to say. “It’s in the Underworld.”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t go there.”

He offered a dark smile, and it was then she noted the tension in his frame. As if he was ready to fight. To kill. Energy hummed off him like a generator. “You can now. You have a free pass, courtesy of Sutekh.”

Her stomach sank, and genuine fear touched her. A trip to the Underworld was generally one way. Except in rare cases where an Underworld god gave a guarantee of a safe return. Izanami had done that once for Naphré Kurata.

Somehow, Calliope doubted that Sutekh had offered that for her. And even if he had, she wasn’t inclined to trust his word.

“Does that free pass include a return trip?” She kept her tone peaceful, her muscles relaxed. But it was an effort.

“Yes.” His gaze never wavered. “You have my word on that.”

Logic over emotion. Fear had no place in this equation. The meeting of allies was an opportunity to get information about where Roxy was, and if she was safe. It might even be an opportunity to get her back. And who knew what secrets she could glean to share with the Guard. Old habits died hard. If she could find out anything of value, she would pass it on to Zalika.

So logic told her to go. Be wary. But go.

And the look in Mal’s eyes was telling her to trust him. She wanted to. She did. But did she dare?

“Then we go.”

But Calliope was well aware that Mal was a soul reaper. His loyalty was to his kind. His father. His brothers. He’d never made any secret of that.

Trusting him might be the stupidest thing she ever did. And the most deadly.





CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE



In the presence of the great tribunal which is in the Two Banks on that night when Aset mourned for her brother Osiris… In the presence of the great tribunal which is on the Road of the Dead on that night of making inquiry into him who is nothing.

—The Egyptian Book of the Dead, Chapter 20

“WHERE ARE WE?” CALLIOPE asked as they stepped from the portal.

Mal studied her, noting the tension in her shoulders and the pull at the corners of her mouth. She stood perfectly still for a second. He figured she was letting the vertigo pass. Or just getting the lay of the land. Hard to tell. “Egypt,” he said.

“Between the sand and the pyramid, I might have guessed.” She raised one delicate, dark brow. “Care to be more precise?”

“We’re about five kilometers north of Edfu, near the village of Naga el-Goneima.”