Chapter Twenty

Piper

My father.

The foreign words pinged and pulverized in my head. I didn’t even think my father knew of my existence. He’d always been an unknown entity. An unmentioned being. An enigma.

As a kid I’d wondered. As a teen I’d asked. Mom had always shut me down.

Now, I understood he’d known about my existence, had machinations on my person, was controlling and cruel. The only other person I knew like that was…

My gaze darted to Aaron.

Inside, I screamed. Terror scraping my bones as if in a horror movie and seeing the monster revealed.

In his leader’s robes, he stood by the middle of the platform, holding the trumpet and the scroll like a scepter and crown. His kingly expression fit the analogy. His head high, his shoulders straight, his dark eyes narrowed into slits of evil.

A shiver wracked my body, quaking my limbs and my internal organs. He was repugnant and for a second I wondered if he was my father until he spoke. “Your father named you Piper. He knew your destiny.”

My shoulders sagged. At least that meant Aaron wasn’t my father. Who was? The question had always been in the back of my mind. Now, it tore into my psyche. It was time I learned the truth.

Leaning closer to Mom, I whispered, “Who is my father?”

Mom didn’t answer. Her lips didn’t move.

No breath came from her mouth.

“Mom?” With burning eyes, I put my hand to her chest and felt nothing. “Mom?”

Like a collapsed wheel bearing, my heart throbbed and punched and thrust, crushing my ribcage. Raw aching spread from my midsection to my limbs, resembling cracking glass. The fissures filled with enraged sorrow. “No!”

The chorus of the members’ chanting grew louder with my agony.

“She’s passed on.” Aaron’s voice shouted in triumph. In celebration.

I was being sucked into a whirlpool of insanity.

“Nooooo!” My scream rent through the music and the chanting. The only opposition, drowning in the Order’s sounds of joy. I dropped my head onto Mom’s chest, listening harder for a heartbeat. The only noise I heard was the wallowing of my own tears.

Mom was dead. Gone to me forever.

Hiccupping, I tried to control my breathing rate. Tried to control the anguish and grief. I was a wet rag lying on top of my mother’s dead body. Everything hurt. My mind, my muscles, my heart. Turning my head, I forced my eyes open. Forced myself to face the world without Mom. Forced myself to face my fears of enslavement.

Pushing aside my grief, I focused on my fury, letting it build and billow. I’d delivered the trumpet as Aaron had requested. Betrayed Math and would never see him again. And yet, Aaron had betrayed me. Lied to me. And planned to enslave me.

The chanting changed. The members moved, stomping their feet and clapping their hands. A celebration more than a funeral. A bell rang, ringing my reality in a death toll. A present with a dangerous cult who’d killed my mother. And a future planned by my unknown father and controlled by Aaron.

My lungs deflated, and I couldn’t breathe. Gasping, swallowing, drowning. I couldn’t live this way. With him. I pushed myself to the surface of my life and took a deep, cleansing breath. I had to escape. Escape before they finished the ceremony bonding me to the Order for life.

Members bowed and chanted. They made strange motions with their hands, as if cheerleaders performing a routine.

I sat up, taking in the spectacle. “What’re you doing?”

“Performing the ceremony for your mother to become an Akh.” Aaron took hold of a silver dish. Holding a scepter with a ball on the top, he flicked his wrist. Liquid splashed onto Mom’s body.

My protective instincts panicked, and I threw myself in front protecting her from the liquid. “Mom’s dead.” Knowing Aaron, it was probably a different kind of poison. Or an acid so he could easily dispose of the body. “She’s not going anywhere or becoming anything. Especially not an Akh.”

Strolling to the other side of the platform, he flicked the wand again, splashing both me and Mom.

I ducked. The clear liquid hit my arm. Nothing happened. No pain or sizzle. I whooshed in relief.

He flicked again. Splashed us again. “The dead become Akh when they have the proper funeral.” He flicked the wand a third time. “Which is what we are doing.”

I swiped the liquid off my cheeks—from the wand, not my tears—and studied the people swarming around me. The cloaked men were less focused on me and more on their dancing. The hooded and robed members moved in a choreographed motion, stomping and marching and swinging their arms. Aaron read from the scroll in a foreign tongue, his voice growing more fervent. The incense in the room grew thicker.

My chest rose and fell and rose and fell and rose and fell, trying to get air and control my grief and fear. I was drowning again. Drowning in new information with more dire consequences. I wanted to run, to use the escape tunnel Math had found. I couldn’t leave Mom’s body behind. I didn’t want her to become an Akh. Didn’t want her to continue to serve Aaron after death. But I would if I saw a chance.

“…and are worshipped by the living.” The switch to English in Aaron’s prayer caught my attention. He moved to the side of the platform and took hold of Mom’s chin.

I knocked his hand away. “Stop.”

I’d seen the murals of ancient Egyptians removing organs through a dead person’s mouth. He wasn’t touching Mom.

“Piper, we are bringing your mother’s soul back to life.” His scolding tone treated me like a child, but I was no longer a child. He’d taken away my childhood, and I planned to steal something from him. “Your mother will make your powers stronger and continue to be with you forever.”

I stilled, liking the idea of Mom being with me. What was the price? “How?”

“As an Akh, she will live in an in-between place where she will strengthen your powers once you blow the trumpet.”

Terror streaked through my veins. My skin tightened around my body like a noose. Math had told me about this miserable half-life and I’d already blown the trumpet. Aaron didn’t know that tidbit.

“So, if I blow the trumpet,” I picked my words carefully, temptation teasing. “My mom won’t pass on? She’ll stay with me?”

“Exactly.” Aaron took the trumpet from a member and held it out to me. “All you have to do is play.”

My mourning tugged at my quivering soul. “But she’s already dead.”

“She’ll live within you.” He shook the trumpet at me. “Play.”

“And if I don’t blow the trumpet?” I asked the question too late. I’d already blown the trumpet, therefore had I already doomed Mom to the horrible half-life? My heart squeezed tight knowing it was too late to make the choice whether to blow the trumpet or not.

“You will blow the trumpet.” His demanding-no-arguing tone scraped again. “We’ve waited over a decade. Your father planned this from the moment he met your mother. When she became pregnant, he forced her to blow the Trumpet of Peace. Then, she deserted him and ran away to the States. It’s not surprising she turned to drugs to relieve the agony of not playing the trumpet again.” Aaron didn’t sound sympathetic to Mom’s addiction.

Everything had been an act.

“You knew when you located us what Mom’s problem was?” I’d been too young to understand. She’d always talked about demons in her soul and how the drugs were the only thing numbing her agony.

“Yes. And we were happy you survived her destructive habits.”

So they could use me.

The anger building and wavering exploded like a match to gasoline. Fury fired inside me, heating my skin and blowing my mind. My hands broiled as if they’d caught fire, too. “Forcing her to play the trumpet caused the destructive habits.” The internal flames fanned into fear. I’d played the trumpet, too. “If I play, will I feel internal torture and turn to drugs?”

Aaron held the trumpet higher, closer, to me. “If you play every day, you won’t feel any pain. You’ll be all powerful.”

His words echoed and pounded in my head. The proclamation terrified and tempted. Indecision danced in my stomach and doubt waltzed in my soul. I’d never had power or authority. No one ever listened to me or cared what I wanted except for Math. And if I grasped this power, could I defeat Aaron and forge an alliance with the Warriors?

And maybe a personal alliance with Math?

For once, could I be in control of my own destiny?

With sweating hands, I took hold of the trumpet. My fingertips warmed under the silver’s touch. Power zoomed through my bloodstream, making me stronger. I was already stronger than a normal teen. I recognized the essence of the trumpet’s magic, felt the hum of connection. I’d sensed this attachment before I’d played. Because of my blood link. What choice did I have?

Mom was gone. Aaron and Order members surrounded me, waiting. Math hated me. I’d already played and didn’t want to face the demons Mom had endured.

My thoughts came to a full stop. I’d already played. Was Mom already an Akh?

Similar to when I tried to sense the trumpet at the Society’s mansion, I put out feelers. Mom? Are you there?

Because I’d taken hold of the trumpet Aaron must believe I’d agreed to his demands. “With your powers and the Akh, I will become the almighty sacred leader. Presidents and kings will bow before me. I will rule the world.”

His cold and calculating laughter chilled every inch of my skin. Mom? Are you sure this is what you want for me?

I was asking for advice from a soul caught between heaven and Earth. A person who never advised me in life. A person who I never counted on.

Aaron continued on, “Once you use your mother’s powers, she will be linked to you forever. She will have immortality in the half-life and you, Piper, will have immortality on Earth.”

Revulsion rippled over my body. I’d be his slave not just for a normal lifetime, but forever.

Forever.

Except if I was all powerful, could I seize control of the Order, steer the organization in a new direction? I wished there was someone I could ask, someone I could trust.

Aaron took a curved knife and slashed open his palm. “We will take a blood bond so I can direct both your mother and you.”

“Direct me?” My stomach churned. My hands holding the trumpet shook more. I wouldn’t have any real power. I’d be a slave to Aaron’s demands.

Evil demands.

“You don’t think we’d let a mere girl control our power?” His abrasive chuckle made me feel like a lowly slug.

I could go along as I always did, or I could take a stand.

“What happens if I blow the trumpet,” because I had, “and don’t use Mom’s Akh?” I tried sounding casual and curious.

He paused in his act of gathering his blood with the blade. Angling his head, he studied me as if trying to decide if the question was serious. “I don’t understand why you wouldn’t use the Akh powers.” He analyzed my expression and continued, “If the powers are not used and your mother is not worshipped, she will be released from the bond and travel to the Afterlife.” Aaron’s glowering became more focused on me. “That’s not what your father wanted.”

I didn’t care what dear-old-unknown-dad wanted. The blood in my veins thrummed in an opposing rhythm. If I didn’t use the Akh powers, Mom would be free. At least that would be one of us. I’d thwart Aaron’s plans.

Yes, her death would be her end and I’d miss her, but her Afterlife would be so much better. I’d been taking care of her for as long as I could remember; why would I stop at her death?

My spine stiffened. Everything inside hardened. I pursed my lips, ready for a fight.