A Death of Music Page 12

  It was like walking through a minefield. They radiated heat, and the light of them burned her eyes, lingering long after she blinked. It was difficult trying to avoid bumping into them, and at the same time trying to avoid looking directly at them. The fact that they moved did not make their task any easier. As Willow navigated around the stars, one of them grazed her bicep and she felt an agonizing lance of pain. She’d once been clipped by a bullet, and it felt about like that. She gasped and looked down at the bloody gash left by the star.

  “Are you okay?” Penelope asked.

  “I’ll be fine. Let’s just get to the other side.”

  Willow watched Penelope maneuver through the bright lights a couple steps ahead of her, rotating this way and that, eyes wide. They hadn’t gotten much of a chance to talk, just the two of them, since they’d become Riders. Well, since even before that. Willow didn’t really know much about Atsa, who Penelope seemed to feel so strongly about. And they hadn’t talked about what had happened with Roy and her mother.

  “So, do you, like, have feelings for Atsa?” The words came bubbling out of her mouth, impulsive and reckless, just like their owner.

  Penelope stopped and stared at her. Willow could see one of the stars reflected in her eyes.

  “Why are you asking me about boys right now?”

  Willow shrugged. “Why not? This walk is taking forever. We haven’t really gotten to catch up lately.”

  “You make it sound like one of us has just been on a trip to the next town or something.” Penelope snorted. “We’ve been a bit busy.”

  “Well, we’re not busy now.”

  “We’re trying to find one of the seven seals of the Apocalypse in the temple of an evil goddess. You don’t consider that busy?”

  “You seem to be avoiding the question.” Willow grinned.

  Penelope started walking again, and Willow thought maybe she wouldn’t answer.

  “I suppose,” she said finally, a few strides later, “That it’s more that Atsa is the one who connected me to my clan. I feel like I owe him.”

  “So, no feelings?”

  Penelope shrugged. “I don’t think I feel that way about anyone. I’ve never really thought about it.”

  “I was like that, too. I know what you mean.”

  “And now suddenly you’ve had two boyfriends in two weeks!”

  Willow felt as if she’d been yanked into a bone corset with the laces too tight. “Neither of them were boyfriends,” she hissed dangerously.

  Penelope raised a hand in placation. “I know Zane is a sore subject,” she said. “But at some point, you’ll feel better if you talk about it.”

  “Will I?”

  “Yes. You will.” Penelope took a deep breath. “And what about Indigo? Did that make you feel any better?”

  “Sure,” Willow said. She really didn’t like how Penelope had turned this conversation back around on her. “You know what, maybe we shouldn’t talk after all.”

  “It was your idea.” Penelope rolled her eyes.

  Willow looked ahead. The field of stars created a faint, icy-blue glow, but where they ended, the room got dark real fast. She could see the far wall, and the two statues against it. Now that she was closer, she could see they were actually carved out of the same rock as the wall, rather than apart from it. They were spaced about a dozen feet apart from each other, and darkness seemed to gather in the space between. That’s where the seal had to be.

  It occurred to her that since they had walked through the light of the stars, if there were any guards ahead, they would have seen them by now. She felt her heart accelerate, her senses alert for movement in the black ahead. Her ears strained for any noises; the shuffle of a foot, the whoosh of a weapon pulled from its sheath. Next to her, Penelope seemed to be doing the same.

  The glow of the starlight fell behind them, and they proceeded into the pitch black. The pulse of the seal was so strong now that Willow knew they were practically on top of it. A stone altar materialized out of the darkness, standing up against the wall. And sitting on it, atop a sheet of red silk, sat the seal.

  Willow vaguely remembered, from her early years when her mother still made the occasional appearance at church, something from the bible about the seven seals being actual wax seals upon scrolls. But this was nothing of the sort.

  It was a sphere of sorts, made of black crystal run through with veins of rust-red. But it was not perfectly round or perfectly solid: it was made of thin branches of the stone, woven together like a basket. Each branch was no thicker than a strand of licorice. The inside was hollow, empty. It looked altogether fragile. It wanted to be broken.

  Willow cast her gaze around. The darkness revealed no guards. She strode forward and reached for the seal.

  The whoosh of the spear was the only thing that saved her.

  Penelope yelled as Willow rolled to the side. The tip of the gigantic spear shattered the quartz tiles where she’d been standing, embedding itself into the ground. Her head whipped back, and she looked up into the glowing blue eyes of the jackal-headed statue. The statue which was now pulling itself free of the wall.

  In fact, both of the statues were extricating themselves, shaking the very foundations of the temple. Penelope ran forward and grabbed Willow under the armpits, dragging her backwards. Large chunks of stone fell to the floor as the beasts pulled themselves free, causing a rumble like an earthquake. Their secret mission was now not so secret.

  She got to her feet as they reached the field of stars. Which didn’t really leave them a whole lot of room to escape. They couldn’t run because they’d end up burning themselves up amidst the celestial lights. Willow glanced around the edges of the room, but the stars blocked all chances of a quick escape. Not that she necessarily wanted to escape. They still needed the seal.

  She didn’t have further time to contemplate a plan, because the hawk-headed statue brought a long battle axe down toward them. Willow and Penelope leapt to the side as it sliced through the air and shattered the floor beneath them. Willow turned and pointed both hands at the things, sending a wave of her war magic. The two creatures shook their heads as if a bee were bothering them, but did not attack each other. She saw Penelope raise her hands and try with her powers, also to no avail.

  Which left her Colt.

  Willow doubted a gun could do much against giant stone monsters, but she wasn’t just going to stand here and die. Perhaps a shot through the eye would do the trick. She pulled the gun from her belt, took aim, and fired. Penelope pulled her bow and began to attack as well. One of her arrows hit its mark, piercing the hawk creature through the eye, but it didn’t seem fazed.

  The jackal-headed statue had finally gotten its spear out of the floor and it hurled it toward them. The only way to avoid it was to move closer to the beasts, diving beneath the deadly arc of the giant weapon. Now they were far too close to the creatures’ massive feet for Willow’s comfort. If they got stepped on, they’d be crushed instantly.

  She ran between the legs of the jackal, her eyes on the seal behind him. She didn’t know how they’d escape, but if she could just get her hands on it, maybe they still had a chance to pull this off. Willow reached the altar and lifted her hand to grab the seal. The hawk-headed monster turned quickly, quicker than she’d thought them capable, and swung its axe down at her.

  Willow ran, abandoning the seal. She and Penelope were separated now. She saw her friend backing up against the side wall of the room, the jackal advancing on her, as she backed toward the opposite wall. The hawk retracted its axe and moved toward Willow, its blue eyes burning into her. In desperation, Willow lifted the Colt again, firing the last of her bullets into it as it came toward her.

  And then there was a ripple in the field of stars. Someone was coming through it, moving the stars aside as they did. Flame-red hair, skin pale as pearl.

  Dynah.

  As she moved, the magic pulsing off her felt like a supernova. She moved her hands left and right, clearin
g a path through the middle. Felicity ran behind her. When they neared the end of the room, both the jackal and hawk-headed statues turned their heads slowly to look at them, then turned and lumbered toward the new arrivals.

  Dynah pointed both hands at the statues as they came for her, and the stars that she’d flung to the side came rushing forward. Ten thousand points of light surrounded the beasts, spiraling around them like a cyclone. And where the stars touched them, the stone creatures began to glow red, and to melt. Their legs tumbled out from under them, their weapons fell to the ground. With a final magnificent rumble, they collapsed at Dynah’s feet.

  Silence settled over the chamber, and dust clouded the air around them.

  “That was incredible,” Willow called, her voice hoarse. “How did you…?”

  “I have a kinship with the stars,” Dynah said. “I don’t know why. I noticed it after our transformation.”

  “You saved us,” Penelope said, stepping away from where she’d been backed against the wall. “We were just about done for.”

  “Speaking of done for,” Felicity said. “We need to get the seal and go. I’m sure Dynah and I are not the only ones who felt the rumbling.”

  Willow nodded and strode for the altar.

  It was at that moment the goddess Sekhmet arrived.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Penelope

  The arrival of Sekhmet felt like lightning, a tornado, and a wildfire all at once. She appeared in the middle of the room in a blaze of power that made Penelope’s heart shrivel in its chest. She’d felt the goddess when they’d arrived outside the pyramid and known her power, but being in the same room with it was almost unbearable.

  And moreover, Sekhmet was angry.

  In that instant, in the wave of terror that enveloped Penelope, she acted on instinct. She yanked Willow away from the altar and wrapped the darkness around her and the others, like pulling a blanket over her head as a small child, making them invisible. She’d wondered, when Dynah said she had a kinship with stars, if she herself had some connection to an aspect of nature. It made sense, she supposed, that if her sister wielded the stars, she herself summoned the night sky.

  “I know you’re here,” Sekhmet growled.

  Her voice was flame and serpent, hot and silky at the same time. She began to stalk through the room toward the altar. The Riders stood only a dozen feet from it, uncomfortably close. But Penelope didn’t dare move, and she willed the others to stay still as well. She couldn’t see them. She couldn’t even see her own body.

  As Sekhmet came into view, Penelope could see that instead of the head of a woman, she had the head of a lioness. A disc of brilliant gold fanned out behind it. Her movements were that of a lion, too. Smooth, predatorial, light as a feather. She wore a blood-red dress with a jeweled collar. Penelope caught a whiff of jasmine and an earthy spice as she passed.

  Sekhmet stopped before the altar and cast her gaze about, sniffed the air. “I can smell you,” she said. “Even if I can’t see you. Nice trick, by the way. Loki, perhaps?” She laughed as if this were all one big game. “Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out. We’ll have fun when I do.”

  She reached out her slim fingers and slid them into the holes between the branches of the seal. As she picked it up, a pulse of power shot through the temple. She lifted it and gazed at it adoringly.

  “It is time,” she purred.

  Narrowing her eyes, she spun once in a slow circle, her eyes searching the darkness. For a moment, she stopped and stared right into Penelope’s eyes. Penelope’s blood pulsed against her temples like an icy, raging river. She could see death in those green eyes, not just hers, but tens of thousands who came before her. All cut down to feed the goddess’s blood lust. This being could singlehandedly wipe out the entire planet and still yearn for more.

  But then Sekhmet turned her gaze, and Penelope realized she hadn’t spotted them after all. The goddess smiled.

  “Whoever you are, you have failed,” she said. “I will break the seal within the hour, and all those souls will be mine. So, I leave you with that knowledge for now. Later, I’ll find you, and I will end you.”

  Sekhmet raked them with one last burning gaze, then vanished from the chamber as abruptly as she’d arrived.

  Penelope let out the breath she’d been holding for what seemed an eternity, but she didn’t dare release the darkness she’d cloaked them in. “Clasp hands. Follow me,” she said to the others.

  She found Willow’s hand easily enough since she’d dragged her away from the altar, and a moment later she felt Dynah’s fingers wind through her free hand. They began to walk slowly toward the door on the far side of the room. The stars were all gone, so it was a little quicker than the first time, but they couldn’t go too fast since they couldn’t see each other. Plus, Penelope needed time for her heart to slow down, for her lungs to remember how to breathe.

  When they reached the staircase leading to the upper floors, Penelope finally released the night from around them. It didn’t seem that Sekhmet was coming back. She was undoubtedly too busy getting ready to break the fifth seal and move the world into the next phase of the Apocalypse.

  “How did you do that?” Willow asked when they all became visible again.

  “I guess it’s my thing. Like Dynah with the stars.”

  “And me with the earth, and water,” Felicity said.

  Willow’s face went all pouty. “Well, what’s mine?”

  “I would guess fire,” Dynah said.

  “Hmm.” Willow bore a contemplative look. “You’re probably right.”

  “We’ve got to get up there as quickly as possible,” Penelope said. “If we have any chance of stopping Sekhmet.”

  “Not to be negative,” Felicity said. “But I don’t see that working out well for us.”

  “I’m with Felicity on this one,” Willow said. “She’s just too powerful.”

  “Well, we have to at least try, don’t we?” Dynah asked. “Maybe she’ll hand the seal to a servant or something. Give us an opening.”

  “Did you hear her?” Willow said. “She’s going to start hunting us as soon as this is over. Which scares the daylights out of me. Me. And I don’t get scared of anything. We need to put as much distance between ourselves and this place as we can.”

  “If we die now, or she sees that it’s us, it’s all over,” Felicity said. “I don’t want to give up either, but we need to think of the bigger picture. There are two more seals out there. If we can save even one, the Apocalypse ends.”

  Penelope looked over to her sister, who was worrying her lower lip between her teeth. “I won’t ask any of you to come with me,” she said. “But I have to try. As impossible as the odds may be.”

  Dynah blue eyes met Penelope’s dark ones. Sadness swam in their depths. “You’re not going without me.”

  Felicity sighed. “I’ll go, too, then. But we can’t be discovered. We have to make sure no one knows we were here.”

  “I’m afraid it’s a bit late for that,” came a voice.

  A figure descended from the stairs above them. Black hair. Blue wings.

  Zane.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Felicity

  Felicity could feel Willow’s hatred of the angel like heat lightning hugging the open plains. It was a feeling etched in each of them, because his betrayal had triggered their transformation. Had summoned the rage that took them that final step.

  “I knew you were up to something,” Zane growled as he came toward them.

  “Of course I’m up to something,” Willow hissed. “Heaven should have known better than to think it could control me. Control us.”

  “You’re throwing away an incredible gift,” he said, shaking his head. He paused on the stairs, and his jaw clenched and rolled.

  “A gift for whom, exactly? What good is all this power if we’re still under someone’s thumb?” she snapped.

  His eyes flashed. “Everyone is under someone’s thumb. Everyo
ne has a boss. You’ll learn that the hard way.”

  Willow crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down. “Oh, will I?”

  “They’re going to hunt you down,” Zane said softly. “Strip you of your powers. I doubt you’ll survive the process.”

  He closed his eyes, and for the briefest of moments, as Felicity watched him, she almost thought he seemed… sad.

  “Don’t say they,” Willow spat. “Say us. Because you’re going to be a part of it.”

  She said it as a statement, but Felicity could hear the question in it, just the slightest tremor of tone. And in the way their eyes met, jade against lapis.

  “Yes.” His voice was barely audible. “I was responsible for you. And clearly I must make amends for my failure.”

  He stepped toward Willow, and she laughed. “You don’t really think you can take all four us?”

  A flicker of fear moved over Zane’s face; his mistake realized too late. His wings flared as if to depart but Felicity flicked her wrist, calling to the earth, rolling the sandstone stairs beneath him. He fell against the wall and it opened to claim him. Felicity felt a thrill of power in her veins as the earth did her bidding, just as easily as breathing.

  Zane let out a yell, and then another growl as the earth wrapped further around him, molding him into the wall. Only his face remained free, everything else locked in place, holding him tightly encased.

  “You won’t get away,” he said, his eyes burning into them.

  “Maybe not for long,” Willow said. “Maybe you’ll catch us tomorrow. A week from now. A month.” She smiled, and it cut like a blade. “But today… today we’re free.”

  She turned and strode up the stairs.

  Felicity followed her, the other two on her heels. Zane did not struggle, or yell, but watched them silently as they left. When they reached the top of the stairs, Felicity turned back, just once. In the dim light, she could see his blue eyes staring after them. Another flick of the wrist, and she collapsed the doorway. Just for good measure.