Queen Neferpenthe sat up, coughing up clouds of ancient dust. Jyx forced himself to uproot his feet from the floor. He didn’t want to move too quickly and risk panicking the mummy, but he didn’t have time on his side. He still expected to hear Eufame descending the stairs, and his thoughts flew to the skeleton embedded in the marble floor upstairs.
“Hello?”
She turned her head to face him, her joints whining in protest. She pried her eyelids open with gnarled fingers, and stared at him with hollow eye sockets. Sparks fizzed in the depths of her skull. The weight of her gaze reminded him of Dean Whittaker. Jyx forced down a gulp.
“Can you see me?” Jyx hoped the mummy would have a magical ability to speak his language, but gestured to himself in case she didn’t.
The mummy bared her sharp yellow teeth and hissed. Jyx let out a tiny gasp, and looked at the Wolfkin shadow, searching its depths for answers. It shrugged in reply, and drifted through the Vault, pausing behind Jyx. His own shadow shrank away from contact with the red-ringed silhouette.
Other mummies sat up in the lower half of the Vault, and pried open their eyes. Some of them let out cries of despair or confusion. The cold air of the Vault smelled of age and stale dust, the scent of arrested decay hanging heavy around him. The last shreds of hope fluttered in his heart, and Jyx made his way between the slabs. His skin crawled to feel the stares of so many empty eye sockets.
“I know you can all see me, and I’ve raised you a bit earlier than planned to help me out,” said Jyx. His gaze flittered from slab to slab, but he couldn’t see their shadows.
Do the dead even have shadows?
Queen Neferpenthe swung her legs over the side of the slab, and her feet slapped onto the stone floor. She pushed herself upright and swayed. The moonstone in her diadem glinted in the flickering light from the braziers. She steadied herself against the slab, but her head rolled from side to side. She reminded Jyx of the drunkards he’d encountered in the Underground City. Perhaps they weren’t drunkards; perhaps they were escapees from the graveyards. Jyx forced the thought from his mind.
“Good, you’re keen, I’m glad, but—”
The mummy planted one foot in front of her and dragged the other foot level. Triumph crossed her pinched features. With a cry of delight, she propelled herself forward another step. She released her grip on the slab and shuffled across the aisle, her joints creaking and protesting with every jerky movement. She headed for the smoking remains of the alchemical table along the western wall.
“No, it’s okay, I was going to tidy that—”
She hooked her fingers under the edge of the table and heaved upwards. Both the table and the mummy’s muscles groaned with the effort, and the last of the apparatus toppled to the floor with a crash. Unnamed chemicals mixed in the cracks between the flagstones, releasing coloured fumes with a hiss. Queen Neferpenthe released her hold on the table, still too weak to overturn it. She looked down at the broken flasks and dented braziers and let out a victorious cry.
The rebellion rippled through the mummies, and withered legs swung from the slabs in the lower half of the Vault. Jyx raked his hands through his hair, searching the floor for signs of shadows. At least then he could control them. He saw none—even the mummies nearest the braziers cast no shadows.
“Would you please just help me?”
The mummies all turned to face Jyx. Silence descended in the Vault, broken only by the rasping breathing of the assembled royalty. Jyx scanned their empty faces, searching for a shred of humanity. He saw nothing but vacant death. Despair was forced aside as panic seized him by the throat and he fought to breathe.
Queen Neferpenthe held up her arms, her hands trembling under the weight of the withered muscle. She opened her mouth and hacked up another lungful of dust. Jyx recognised the pose from his readings and leapt forward to stop her mid-incantation. Before he could reach her, she uttered three long, guttural syllables. Fragments of energy flickered in the ether, disappearing into the waiting mouths of the mummies.
“Why won’t you just do what I’m asking?”
Jyx screamed at the mummies, anger and fear tussling for control over his nerves. He thought of the Impetritae Inceptivus with fury. They weren’t just initial incantations—the book contained serious magick, and it should have contained a warning. The Dominantur Umbras did. Besides, what kind of magician kept books with pages that were stuck together? There could be all manner of useful or important information on those pages.
A nagging hook of doubt buried itself in the back of Jyx’s mind. Before he could consider it further, the mummies roared in unison, and scattered. Emboldened by Queen Neferpenthe’s rebellion and nourished by the ether, they lurched between the slabs. Two of the younger royals pushed over a slab, crowing about their achievement as the marble hit the floor with a crash. Queen Neferpenthe led three mummies up the spiral staircase to the gallery, where they set about smashing the remaining cabinets and destroying their contents. Hundreds of enchantments flickered around the room, hanging in the air like persistent fireflies.
Jyx ran to the end of the Vault. Several pairs of paws pounded down the stairs, the shadows of more Wolfkin looming large against the stone wall. The Wolfkin by the doorway stirred, and the shadow at Jyx’s shoulder drifted towards it.
“No! I haven’t released you! I need your help to control these mummies!” Jyx reached out his hands, both in terror and supplication. The shadow was the only element of control he still had, and he wasn’t keen to let it go.
The Wolfkin’s shadow sank to the floor and reattached itself to the Wolfkin’s hind paws. The guard’s eyes snapped open, and the Wolfkin leapt to its feet. It bared its teeth in a vicious snarl, and loomed over Jyx. Hot canine breath licked at his face, and its left paw landed on his shoulder. Claws gripped his skin through his robe, and Jyx yelped as the talons dug into the thin flesh over his shoulder blade.
Two more Wolfkin appeared in the doorway behind the monster before him. They surveyed the devastation in the Vault, taking in the broken apparatus, the shattered cabinets and the overturned slabs. Jyx turned to see Queen Neferpenthe bent over one of the unraised mummies. He shouted a warning, but the Wolfkin cuffed him around the head with its other paw. Stars exploded across Jyx’s vision, and he reeled from the impact. The Wolfkin dug in its claws further, holding him firm.
The newly arrived Wolfkin barked to each other. The black Wolfkin turned and ran back up the stairs. The tawny Wolfkin barged into the Vault, shoving Jyx aside with a massive shoulder, and caught a mummy by the scruff of his neck. Jyx recognised him as Prince Amen-Atep, one of the current ruler’s great-great-great-great uncles. The Wolfkin holding Jyx lifted him off his feet, and Jyx howled from the pain. Blood ran down his back inside his robe, the fabric clinging to the sticky fluid.
The mummies paused mid-destruction. Every pair of eyes turned his way, and ancient nostrils caught his scent. Jyx whimpered in the Wolfkin’s grasp, unable to twist around or free himself.
“Please…let me go…”
The Wolfkin growled at him, but lowered him to the floor. It kept its eyes on the watching mummies and retracted its claws. Jyx collapsed to his knees, clutching his bleeding shoulder. He’d never studied the various healing arts, always considering them to be beneath him. Now, injured and in pain, he realised that such talents could have a real purpose.
The tawny Wolfkin yelped, a thin, high noise that pierced the air of the Vault. Jyx looked up to see it drop the mummy, and clutch its paw to its chest. The mummy whirled and hissed at the Wolfkin, baring his bloodied teeth. He pounced on the guard, knocking it backwards. The white Wolfkin leapt forward to catch its kin, and the dead prince howled. The other mummies stood frozen in the Vault, twitching as they looked between the battle and the door.
Jyx struggled to his feet, still clutching his shoulder. His robes were now sodden and stuck to the wound. He tried to visualise the net he would need to capture the two shadows of the white and tawny Wolfkin, but Prince Amen-Atep rallied himself. He sprang forward, knocking the tawny Wolfkin into the arms of the white Wolfkin. All three hit the floor with a crash, and the mummy pounded the chest of the tawny Wolfkin with his fists. Another mummy shuffled across the aisle, this one an ancient princess. She aimed a hefty kick at the ribs of the white Wolfkin; its once threatening barks and growls turned to pathetic whimpers.
Jyx couldn’t see their shadows. He looked at the mummies, still gathered in the Vault, staring at him. He couldn’t rely on the Wolfkin for help, and the mummies wouldn’t obey him. There was only one thing left to do.
Jyx hurled himself through the doorway and scrabbled up the stairs. Half running, half pulling himself upwards with his good arm, he was out of sight of the Vault when he heard the first mummies reach the stairwell. They groaned with exertion, and snapped at each other as they fought to swarm up the spiral stairs.
Jyx spilled out of the archway and into the main vestibule of the house. A small throng of young men in dark brown habits stood near the grand staircase, attended by a Wolfkin clad in leather armour. Jyx ignored their stares as he scrambled across the hall, panic-stricken and disorientated.
An angry screech burst forth from the archway, followed by a hissing ball of fur. Bastet streaked past him and shot out of the front doors of the House. A stab of guilt attacked Jyx’s stomach as he realised he’d forgotten all about her. Having seen how the mummies attacked the Wolfkin, little Bastet was better off out of the Vault.
Two mummies lunged into the vestibule, outstretched fingers bent into vicious hooks. Jyx dodged their reach and pelted towards the front door. The two Wolfkin that guarded the entrance lowered their ceremonial pikes and growled. Jyx stared at them, a plea burning in his eyes.
Please let me past, please let me past.
He threw himself left then right to avoid the pikes, and he passed the Wolfkin without a glance from either of them. They snarled at the following mummy horde. Jyx allowed himself to look over his shoulder, and at least ten of the long-dead royals had made it into the hall. The young men in habits fled screaming up the stairs, their cries drawing the attention of the mummies. A handful of the dead royals pursued the novices upwards, stumbling and scrambling up the wide staircase.
Jyx turned away and raced out of the doors. A squad of Wolfkin charged towards him, drawn by the sounds of the fracas inside. The lead Wolfkin picked him up by the shoulder and lifted him aside in one smooth movement. Jyx screamed in pain, the claws digging into the fresh wounds left by the last Wolfkin to grip his shoulder. The Wolfkin dropped him and Jyx rolled across the threshold. A trail of blood traced his route along the marble floor.
The squad disappeared into the gloom of the house. Screeching and growling fought each other for supremacy before the large entrance doors swung closed with a resounding crash. Jyx sank to his knees on the steps, aware that another crowd of Eufame’s admirers stood watching across the courtyard. They took in the sight of his injuries, and they backed away until they met the wall.
Bastet miaowed. Jyx looked up and saw her perched on top of a pedestal near the door. She wound herself around the statue’s feet, glaring at Jyx as she did so.
“I’m so sorry, Bastet. I didn’t mean to use the sleeping sand, and I thought you’d be safe in my chamber.”
She miaowed again, her golden eyes full of reproach. Jyx hung his head. She knows I forgot about her. I am a horrible person.
“Miss Delsenza’s probably going to embed me in the floor, isn’t she?”
Bastet flicked her tail in reply. Jyx stared at the ground. Only two weeks ago, his biggest worry had been ensuring no one found out about his nocturnal visits to the library. Now he had a horde of dead royals rampaging around inside one of the city’s oldest institutions—and it was all his fault. Expulsion from the Academy would have been better than this.
The tall doors swung open. Jyx looked up, and peered into the gloom. He expected to see mummies strewn across the floor as victorious Wolfkin stood over them, nursing their war wounds. Instead, a horde of mummies swarmed out of the front door, leaving dark heaps on the floor inside the House—dark, broken heaps of muscle and fur. Jyx gulped and looked away, unwilling to see the destruction wrought inside.
Several mummies broke away from the main group and lumbered across the courtyard towards Eufame’s would-be suitors. The old men stood rooted to the spot, staring wide-eyed at the advancing royals.
“Run, you idiots!” Jyx shouted at them, ignoring the fire in his shoulder to make wild “leave now” gestures with his arms. The mummies fell upon the small group, knocking the suitors to the ground. Screams and pleas for mercy overwhelmed the sounds of tearing and crunching.
The rest of the pack turned their attention towards Jyx. He looked across the courtyard but a small detachment of resurrected princes blocked his route to the exit. Another group blocked the doors to the house. There was nowhere to go, except through the mummies.
The scent of the yellowed pages in the Impetritae Inceptivus filled his nostrils, and the words sprang unbidden to Jyx’s lips. He threw back his head and yelled “Extollat me, exalta me altum, liberabis me, ut volet!” A gust of wind gathered behind him and forced him upwards. His feet left the ground and he felt himself launched towards the pedestal. Jyx caught the cold stone in his outstretched hands and he scrabbled onto the slab. He clung to the plinth beside Bastet. He was torn between elation at using his first wind magick incantation, and terror at the sight of so many mummies.
“I don’t understand it, Bastet. I’m sure I didn’t raise that many.”
Bastet miaowed and looked down into the courtyard. Jyx followed her golden gaze to where Queen Neferpenthe stood in the doorway. Another battalion of mummies gathered behind her, and Jyx’s heart plummeted when he saw Wolfkin among her death squad.
“She did it? She raised the others, and the dead Wolfkin? Why didn’t anyone tell me she was a necromancer too?”
Bastet miaowed again and gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. Jyx stared down at the queen. Nourished by blood as well as ether, her body had filled out and fewer wrinkles folded her ancient skin. Red sparks fizzed in the depths of her eye sockets, and her mouth curved into a rictus grin.
The thundering sound of hooves on stone and the panicked whinny of horses poured into the courtyard. Eufame strode through the arch, flanked by her personal guard. Her cold eyes burned with fierce rage, and Jyx could feel the sharp spikes of her aura all the way across the yard.
“What in the name of the Old and Great Ones is going on here?”
Eufame’s voice boomed across the courtyard. The notes of both fury and menace were enough to stop the mummies in their tracks. Those nearest the arch cowered backwards, away from the familiar figure of the necromancer general. Two of the mummies hunched over the remains of the suitors paused in their feeding frenzy to note the new arrival. Jyx glanced at Neferpenthe; the mummy queen scowled at Eufame.
Bastet let out a long howl, and Eufame looked up to the pedestal. Her expression softened for a fraction of a second when she recognised the cat. Her face hardened when her gaze alighted on Jyx.
“You. This was your doing.”
Eufame gave a flick of her wrist and Jyx tumbled from the pedestal. He landed on the ground with a thump, the air forced out of his body. His shoulder protested, and a loud whine filled in the air. It was only when the shock of the impact faded that Jyx realised the whining came from him. He looked across the courtyard, and Eufame gazed back. Disappointment and fury chased each other across her sharp features.
“I’m sorry, it was an accident—”
“I’ll deal with you later.”
Eufame rolled back the draped sleeves of her robe to reveal thin white arms covered in dark red designs. They resembled the pictographic writing Jyx had seen inside the house, and he guessed they were arcane tattoos, although they bore an uncanny resemblance to dried blood. She pointed at the mummies nearest to her. They halted their slow creep towards her, and froze several feet away.
The Wolfkin guard accompanying Eufame spread out to take up their positions around her. She barked several words in a guttural language. The raised Wolfkin among Queen Neferpenthe’s squad stepped aside, and marched down the steps. They lined up against the outer wall of the house. The mummy queen shrieked and barked out a frenzy of her own, but the Wolfkin dropped their weapons and put their paws behind their heads. One of Eufame’s guard broke away to gather their weapons. The Wolfkin stood between its raised kin and Queen Neferpenthe, a low growl rumbling in its throat.
Jyx scrambled to his feet and hobbled across the courtyard. Eufame ignored him as he slipped past. The Wolfkin behind her prevented an escape from the house, but at least he’d be safer behind Eufame than in front of her. Safe for now, at least.
Eufame roared and green fire sprang in a circle around the perimeter of the courtyard. The mummies closest to it shrieked and fell back. Jyx recognised the symbols around the circle, although they were inverted from those he’d drawn. Only two were completely different—and came from the Book of Banishment.
“You’re going to banish them?”
“You leave me no choice, Jyx.”
Eufame chanted the first incantation. The words sliced through the air like darts made of ice, leaving visible trails of cold. Queen Neferpenthe, standing just outside the circle, waved her hands and shrieked a counter spell. The flames flickered, but held. Eufame narrowed her eyes and repeated the incantation with a little more force. Queen Neferpenthe snapped her fingers and the mummies nearest Eufame broke their trance and lurched forward.
Three of the Wolfkin took up positions in front of the necromancer general. Immense blades dangled from sheaths attached to their belts, and they wielded vicious maces. Jyx ducked around Eufame and drew a sigil in the dust on the marble paving. A tiny whirlwind, no more than a foot high, spun through the dust, sending it flying upwards and into the empty eye sockets of the advancing mummies. They stopped, clawing at their faces, the enchanted dust interfering with their necromantic sight. The mummies fell to the ground, their goal of reaching Eufame forgotten.
“Nicely done, Jyx. But ultimately pointless,” said Eufame.
“Why? I thought you wouldn’t want the bodies destroyed,” replied Jyx.
“Are you really as stupid as you look? These souls have been tainted through blood. I cannot separate them from their bodies, and then perform the ritual again, albeit correctly.” Her scornful tone slashed Jyx’s pride. “No, these creatures must be destroyed!”
Eufame unleashed another incantation. A whirlwind, much larger than that created by Jyx, tore around the circle. Spectral hands of tempestuous air clawed at the mummies. Souls were ripped free from ancient bodies, whipped away within the whirlwind to spiral out of sight. The lifeless corpses swayed where they stood before collapsing into heaps of desiccated flesh and papery skin.
Queen Neferpenthe raised her arms and threw her head back, her withered vocal cords forming jagged syllables of raw power. The mummies around the circle surged forward, spurred on by their leader. Eufame growled and a ripple of energy danced around the sigils. The mummies collided with a wall of banishment. Arms of green magick reached out of the wall, tearing the souls free from any mummies found to be within their grasp.
“Come on, ’Penthe! Send me some more of your cronies!” Eufame screamed across the courtyard. Jyx sneaked a look at the necromancer general. Determination set her face in a mask of cold focus. He bit his lip to see a droplet of blood at her nostril.
Queen Neferpenthe lowered her arms and twisted her mouth into a parody of a pout. Only those mummies behind her remained. The rest of her impromptu army lay scattered around the courtyard, both inside and outside Eufame’s circle.
“What is she going to do?” asked Jyx.
“There is really only one thing she can do. Give up.”
“Is that likely?”
“No.”
Eufame barked a command and the green circle of flames subsided. The lifeless bodies in the courtyard suddenly looked fragile and pitiful. If he hadn’t seen them clash with the Wolfkin, he’d never have believed them capable of such violence.
“What are you doing?” Jyx trotted after Eufame as she stalked across the courtyard, her loyal guard in tow. Green energy glowed from within her tattoos, and snaked down her forearms. It clustered in her open hands, cupped as if to carry water. Queen Neferpenthe paced back and forward, her eye sockets fixed on the growing mass of energy in Eufame’s hands. The necromancer general pulled at the mass, sculpting it and drawing it into new shapes. Eufame fashioned the energy into a glowing green scythe.
The remnants of Queen Neferpenthe’s personal guard surged past their leader. Eufame swung the scythe once, and the blade screamed as it sliced through the air. It slid through the approaching mummies, and their lifeless corpses fell to their knees. Their souls remained standing for a moment, sliced in half, before they winked out of existence. The bodies swayed in front of Eufame before they stumbled backwards, landing with a series of wet thumps on the marble steps.
Jyx looked at the dead royals strewn around the courtyard. Blood smeared their mouths and stained their ancient skin. Jyx didn’t need Eufame’s advanced powers of perception to know their souls would carry the Blood Taint. She must have banished them to the Nether World, and there’s no coming back from there.
Queen Neferpenthe screamed. She pried the moonstone from her diadem and tucked it into the palm of one hand. She brought her hands together with a mighty crash. The moonstone exploded in a shower of white sparks, and the shockwave threw Eufame and Jyx backwards. Jyx landed on a broken mummy, and his shoulder wound sent spikes of pain coursing through him. He cried out, and rolled to the side. The movement forced a final puff of air out of the mummy’s lungs. A foetid smell hung in the air.
“Is that all you have, ’Penthe?”
Jyx looked up. Eufame struggled to regain her footing, the green scythe of energy now pulsing in her hand. Queen Neferpenthe breathed on the ball of white energy in her hands, turning the energy an inky shade of black. She stretched it and moulded it between her fingers as Eufame scrambled to her feet. Neferpenthe formed the black energy into a crackling labrys. She swung it backward in a neat arc, and grunted as she heaved it forward over her head.
The blade of the labrys connected with the staff of Eufame’s scythe as Eufame brought it up in defence. Neferpenthe screeched and threw herself forward, driving Eufame back two steps, the necromancer’s muscles taut as she fought to keep the labrys at bay.
Jyx pushed himself to his feet. The setting sun threw long shadows across the courtyard. While the other mummies still cast none, Queen Neferpenthe’s shadow stretched out for several feet behind her, crackling with the same energy visible in her labrys. Jyx visualised a sparkling red net, and drew back his hands as he prepared to cast it across the mummy’s new shadow.
Queen Neferpenthe squealed and hauled the labrys away from Eufame. The necromancer general stumbled, pulled off balance by the mummy’s movement. Neferpenthe swung the labrys again, preparing to take a swing at Jyx.
Jyx cast his net but his aim went wide. Eufame took advantage of the diversion. With one fluid movement, she heaved the scythe in a ragged arc, and sliced the blade through Neferpenthe.
Queen Neferpenthe swayed on her feet. Her hands flew to her throat and she dropped the labrys. The axe exploded in a frenzy of black shards when it hit the ground. Eufame jabbed at her with the scythe, and Queen Neferpenthe fell backwards. A shade of her former self remained standing, her soul manifest before them. Eufame barked a short incantation, and drove the scythe through the centre of the shade. Both the soul and the scythe disappeared in a flash of green.
“That bitch never did know when to quit,” said Eufame. Blood trickled from both nostrils, and silver streaked her hair. Tiny wrinkles clustered at the outer edges of her eyes, eyes now dull with exertion.
“I’m so sorry, I really am, I—”
“Enough.”
Eufame stood up and her Wolfkin guard trotted over. They flanked her, cutting Jyx off from his mentor. Jyx wanted to tell her his side, but the Wolfkin rushed her into the House of the Long Dead, and out of sight.