Unchosen. Part 4

I tried to scream, to cry, but no words, no sounds left my mouth.

The man loomed over me, and his hand gripped my shoulder.

Terror snapped at me like the crocodile snout of Sobek, the eater of evil souls.

Ugh. Why was the room spinning?

I tried to think ... tried to move ... tried to... .

Molly's Reaper Diary Sometimes, You Are on Your Own YOU CAN'T ALWAYS a.s.sume that the people in your life-those alive or dead-can help you. It's important that you become proficient enough in your training to use it to get yourself out of messes. Unfortunately, we don't always have the wisdom to overcome certain situations. At least, I don't. That's the b.u.mmer of being young. Someone once told me that only experience can give you wisdom. BTW, when saving the world is the burden on your shoulders, it's difficult to find comfort in plat.i.tudes.

However, sometimes you have a friend out there that you don't even know about. Keep on the lookout for people who want to help you. You may have thought them enemies. Or you may not really know who they are at all-not until they reveal themselves.

The same can be true of friends. I mean, people you think are on your side can turn out to be real douchebags.

It goes back to that wisdom thing and those oh-so-wonderful learning experiences that create maturity and understanding.

Don't give your trust to just anyone. Let them earn it.

"Necromancy powers are usually limited to the parameters of the particular heka. However, necros often find ways to circ.u.mvent these boundaries, and to use their magic for purposes other than what Anubis intended."

~Secret History of Reapers, Author Unknown.

"Continuing scientific studies seem to confirm that music soothes the savage zombie, or any zombie for that matter. Research has shown that the most effective use of music on the zombie brain is playing death metal at ear-busting levels. I highly recommend 'Scattered Remains, Splattered Brains' by Cannibal Corpse."

~Wendy Boc.o.c.k, Ph.D in Zombie Music Theories.

Chapter 4.

SET'S CAGE EXPLODED.

Violet fire swept through the cave, and the triumphant cries of Set mixed with those of agonizing screams.

"Get down!" yelled Rath. He shoved me to the ground and covered me.

All the breath left my body at once, and I squeezed my eyes shut. The weight of Rath on top of me was both comforting and terrifying. The ground beneath us shook. Rocks crumbled from the walls, pelting us with shards.

The stench of sulfur and death rolled over us, so thick and cloying, I choked.

"Hang on, brown eyes," said Rath.

It seemed like forever, but finally the awful shrieks and the terrible rumblings stopped. It took another long moment for Rath to roll off me. He crouched in our hiding spot as I got to my hands and feet and crawled next to him. We both clung to the large rock in front of us, and I gasped. The cage that had imprisoned Set was dust.

So were the cowled minions who had freed their evil G.o.d.

"Where did he go?" I asked. I knew the answer, but I wanted it not to be true.

Rath put his arm around my shoulder. "We were too late. He's going to the mortal world. The war is beginning."

THE LOW MURMUR of voices infiltrated my consciousness seconds before I found the ability to open my eyes.

The first face I saw was that of Mac Jacobs.

"Get away from me!" I tried to scramble back, but the surface beneath me was slick and cold. I couldn't get any traction.

"Molly, you're all right," said a familiar voice. Miss Chiles edged Mac Jacobs back, and then she put her hand on my arm. "Relax. You're in the temple, on the dais."

I felt like a human sacrifice lying on the big marble slab, especially when the other Chosen filled up the s.p.a.ces around it, staring at me and holding whispered conversations.

I pointed at Mr. Jacobs. "He tried to hurt me. I saw him!"

"I did no such thing." Mr. Jacobs actually had the gall to look shocked at my accusation. "I found you crumpled at the bottom of the stairs. You fell. "

Yeah, right. I wasn't sure about how to respond. After all, he was an adult and I was a kid. Adults always thought they knew better-even when they didn't. Whoa. I felt shaky and strange. On the upside, I didn't feel like I was gonna yark anymore.

"Here." A gla.s.s of water appeared above my head. Unfortunately, it was held by the hand of Clarissa Jacobs. Anger soared through me. Were the Jacobs' so intent on getting rid of me that they would try to poison me with magic, and now with water? "Forget it!" I knocked the water away and the liquid spilled on me, the dais, and Clarissa. She yelped, and leapt backward. Her expression turned furious.

"You moron! I'm trying to help you."

"You're trying to help yourself." I felt tears welling in my eyes. Here I was, splayed out for all to see. I knew I looked weak, and I hated that. I gave a beseeching look to Miss Chiles. "I really want to get out of here. I need ... I need..." I gulped. "Please."

"It's okay. See if you can sit up." Miss Chiles put her arm around me and helped me sit up. For a queasy moment, the room spun. I clutched my stomach, and swallowed the bile that rose in my throat. What spell had Mr. Jacobs used? Or was it that woman? Had they worked together ... or had he driven her off? Ha. If he had, it was only because he wanted to do me in himself!

I'd never heard of reaper magic making someone violently ill. I was still learning about my own necro powers, so there were probably all kinds of magic out there that could hurt people. I shuddered.

"Molly?"

I waved off Miss Chiles' concern.

"I'm fine." Sorta. Ugh.

"Well, we can't stop the proceedings for one ill student." Mr. Jacobs looked down his nose at the headmistress. "Everyone else is here. We should move forward as planned."

Miss Chiles glared at Mr. Jacobs. "Molly is a contender. She has the right and privilege to enter the compet.i.tion. We will wait to proceed until she feels better."

"She can't compete if she's sick," said Clarissa. Oddly, I didn't hear a sneer in her voice. I knew she wasn't concerned about me. But I do think she was worried about something. The fire had gone out of her eyes. How could her anger turn cold so fast? She glanced at her father, and then she looked away, chewing on her lip. Clarissa acting vulnerable? What?

A headache pulsed behind my eyes. Still, I had grabbed on to the gist of the conversation. "Compete? Compete for what?"

"To become the champion of Anubis ... the Kebechet," said Miss Chiles gently. However, the look in her eyes was more like: Suck it up, princess. Things are going to get rough. "The elders of our society have voted that the champion will be chosen by compet.i.tion."

Wait. The Nekros Society had elders? Note to self: Read The Secret History of the Reapers. STAT.

"Compet.i.tion?" echoed a girl's voice in the crowd. I couldn't place which student had spoken, not even when she added, "There hasn't been a Kebechet challenge since the fourteenth century."

"These events are only held when more than one Chosen have the ability to become Kebechet," said Miss Chiles. She looked at me. "There is only one Kebechet per generation. Usually, it's very clear who bears the t.i.tle. In rare cases, it is not ... and so, the compet.i.tion was created."

Why did I think Mac Jacobs had something to do with this? He'd probably initiated this whole stupid contest thing. It wasn't like I'd been announced or formally picked as Kebechet No one knew that I was the blood daughter of Anubis, and it's not like my G.o.d-dad had bothered to talk to me lately, either.

"After the prophecy of Set's return was discovered, our ancestors created a series of challenges designed to reveal the true Kebechet," said Mr. Jacobs in a superior tone.

Oh, yeah. He definitely had something to do with initiating the compet.i.tion. Not only did his voice give away his smugness, but the look Miss Chiles aimed at him should've melted him into a fiery pile of p.o.o.p.

"The one who won the compet.i.tion had obviously been granted favor by Anubis," continued Mr. Jacobs. He glanced at his daughter, pride evident in his expression, but Clarissa wouldn't meet his gaze.

What was going on between the two of them?

"We'll make the formal announcement at a later time," said Miss Chiles to the kids who'd crowded closer. "Molly, you need some rest."

My thoughts spun. Even though Mr. Jacobs couldn't know I was the daughter of Anubis, he still perceived me as a threat. Or maybe that's how he perceived everyone.

I was the champion. Too bad the rest of the society didn't know it. If my G.o.d-dad would just appear to everyone and say, "Hey, she's the one," we could avoid anything grueling, painful, and dangerous. Still, a tiny part of me wondered: What if I didn't win? Would I be off the hook?

Somehow, I didn't think so.

The throbbing in my head worsened. I felt seven kinds of awful. Still, I wasn't letting them have a meeting about the Kebechet without me. If Mr. Jacobs had anything to do with it, he'd start the compet.i.tion the minute I left.

"I'll stay," I said.

"Don't be ridiculous." The headmistress helped me off the dais. She looked over her shoulder at Mr. Jacobs. "Send everyone back to the school. We'll make a formal announcement about the compet.i.tion tomorrow afternoon."

Mr. Jacobs looked less than thrilled with Miss Chiles' commands. His lips thinned, and he scowled, but the headmistress stared at him until he nodded.

"Yes, fine. I'll see to it."

Miss Chiles helped me scoot off the dais, and then kept her arms around my shoulders as we crossed the room. The more we walked, the steadier I felt. When we got to the staircase, she looked at me. "Can you make it up the stairs, Molly?"

"Yeah." I put my hand on the wall and my foot on the first step. Then I paused. "I did see Mr. Jacobs. He was there. Right before I pa.s.sed out." I hesitated. "There was someone else. A lady. She wasn't nice. And ... well, I think she was helping him."

Miss Chiles studied my face. "Did you recognize the woman?"

I shook my head. "I couldn't see her face. She was wearing a hood."

"A student?"

"No. She seemed older."

"How would you know if you didn't see her face?" Miss Chiles patted my shoulder. "You pa.s.sed out, Molly. It might be that what you saw was ... mixed up."

"I'm not mixed up about Mr. Jacobs. He doesn't like me."

"Not liking you is not the same thing as hurting you. In fact, he helped you."

Helped me almost die, I wanted to blurt. Instead, I swallowed the bilious comment. Obviously, Miss Chiles was taking the diplomatic route. Fine. She'd as much as admitted that Mac Jacobs didn't like me-and he hadn't since the day I arrived at Nekyia and challenged his precious daughter's right as the champion of Anubis. Miss Chiles knew it, too. Why was she protecting him?

"C'mon, Molly."

I went first up the staircase with Miss Chiles following. When we got to the top, I pushed through the door. It was a nice day, not too chilly, with the sunlight peeking through the trees. Just being out of the temple and away from the drama had a calming effect. My head was still pounding, though. The pain pulsed in my head as sharp as nails being hammered into my skull. My neck felt knotted. Aches pulsed in my arms and legs, and knew I'd find a few new bruises.

I turned to Miss Chiles. "I'll call Henry. He can help me back to the dorms."

"That's a good idea." She hesitated. "Perhaps you should go to the nurse-just in case you have a concussion."

"I've gotten worse in training," I said. "I'm fine. Really."

"Very well. Get some rest. I'll make sure that you're excused from your afternoon cla.s.ses. If you start feeling strange again, then go to the nurse."

I gave her the thumbs up, and after giving me one last concerned look, she turned and re-entered the temple. I waited until Miss Chiles had closed the door and then I walked to the path that lead to the school.

"Henry, I need you."

My ghoul appeared instantly. He was gaunt and gray-skinned. His eyes were white with pinpoint black pupils. His gaze was weird, sure, but I'd gotten used to it. As always, he was dressed impeccably. Despite his thinness, he was very strong and he even had some ability to use magic. He'd been in my family for a very long time. Ghouls weren't made anymore, but if you had one, you got to keep him. (Or her.) Henry wasn't one to show emotion, but he immediately reached out and enfolded me into his stiff embrace. "There now, Miss. Let's get you tucked into bed. Hot chocolate and cookies will make you feel much better."

"Thank you, Henry." I laid my head on his shoulder, and to my surprise, I started to cry. He lifted me into his arms, turned, and strode down the path.

"I'm s-sorry," I sniffled. "I'm m-messing up your jacket."

"I have others, Miss. You may cry as much as you want on this one."

I hiccupped. "O-okay."

I curled into the crook of his neck, noted that he actually smelled kinda nice, and let Henry take care of me.

AFTER FIXING ME hot chocolate and peanut b.u.t.ter cookies, Henry tucked me into bed, and insisted I rest. I couldn't shut my thoughts down. I kept thinking about Mr. Jacobs, and that woman. Who was she? I tried to remember what they'd said to each other, but I couldn't extract the words from my uncooperative brain.

Eventually, I fell asleep.

We stood near the crumbled remains of Set's prison. The chanting robed minions who'd given the G.o.d of chaos the energy to escape now lay in ashy piles around the cage's perimeter.

"No one's ready for this," I said. "They all think Clarissa closed the portal."

"This isn't your fault, Molly." Rath drew me into his embrace, and I closed my arms around his waist. I rested my head on his shoulder.

"Rath, what do I do? How do we stop him?"

"We do what the Oracle told us. And we find your father."

I jolted awake, my heart racing. For a moment, I couldn't draw breath.

What was going on? Why was I dreaming about Set and Rath and the Underworld? Clarissa closed a portal? Rath and I went to the Oracle?

The shadows stretching across my room told me it was late afternoon. Henry had left on a bedside lamp for which I was grateful. I didn't want to be left alone in the dark.