Chapter 45
Chapter forty-five
ANUBIS
Iliana hesitated. “They said I have to burn.”
Anubis could tell something was wrong. Iliana was too quiet. The way she shifted under their stares gave her away. She was holding something back.
“They are cryptic. I doubt they meant it literally,” Anubis said, even though a storm churned inside him. He turned her hand over. A scrape still bled, the skin raw. Anubis swallowed at the sight. Another wound. Another sign of her fragility.
He summoned a first-aid kit. His movements were gentle as he cleaned the wound. His eyes never left her face as he watched for any sign of pain. She nodded, but it didn’t seem like an agreement. Instead, it was as if she was trying to distract herself from wherever her thoughts had been.
“What else?” Thanatos prompted.
Iliana inhaled slowly before saying, “They warned me about some darkness.”
They’d known Iliana was important. The Fates didn’t give warnings to just anyone. Although the word ‘darkness’ made him uneasy, the lack of specifics kept his concern at bay.
But that wasn’t what caught his attention. She was still keeping something from them.
“They wouldn’t have summoned you just to give you a warning,” Hypnos said in a clipped tone. “What was the prophecy?”
Iliana glared at the god.
Thanatos softened the demand before she could snap at his brother. “We may be able to interpret it.”
She swallowed, her throat working. She looked toward the cave, checking each possible escape route. Her posture was guarded. Defensive.
Iliana was afraid.
“I just…I need time to think. To figure out the right way to handle this before I say something I can’t take back.” Her eyes lifted to his. Pleading. “Please.”
Anubis searched her eyes. He despised lies. Deception created an acrid taste that irritated him, but this wasn’t the same. Iliana wasn’t hiding something out of malice or manipulation. There was no hint of selfishness in her behavior. No calculation in her fear.
She was terrified, yes, but not for herself.
For them. And that made it both easier and harder to accept.
Anubis understood the instinct to protect, but he couldn’t protect her from a threat he couldn’t identify.
The uncertainty made his hands itch to take action.
But she was asking for their trust. After everything, didn’t she deserve that from him?
“Are you able to tell us anything?” Anubis asked carefully.
Her lips parted, but she only shrugged. After a moment, he squeezed her hand. Her omission stung, but he respected her enough to give her space.
Hypnos didn’t share his patience. “How do you expect us to help you if you’re going to keep secrets?”
Iliana flinched.
Anubis’ teeth clenched so hard his jaw ached.
Heat burned inside him, the familiar feeling of his divine power responding to his anger, wanting to protect Iliana by striking Hypnos.
It wasn’t the questions that set him off.
It was the way Hypnos’ words made Iliana draw in on herself—as if she deserved the guilt.
Instead of reacting to those feelings, Anubis kept his hands busy, smoothing the bandage over her wound, using the task to keep his tumultuous emotions from escaping.
She lifted her chin stubbornly. “I told you what was relevant. The rest could change things.”
“Change what?” Thanatos asked.
Iliana shook her head. “If I told you, it could influence your decisions, and I’m not willing to risk that.” Her hand trembled in his.
Anubis’ shoulders relaxed even more, knowing his initial understanding was confirmed by her words. She was shielding them. Misguided perhaps, since they were gods and could take care of themselves, but brave.
If he forced her to speak before she was ready, he’d be taking that choice to protect them from her.
She’d lost her parents, her home, and everything she knew.
She’d been thrust into the world of gods and curses with no preparation; no choice.
Everything that had happened to her had been forced upon her by others.
Keeping the prophecy to herself was the one thing she could still control. The one decision that was hers alone.
He couldn’t take that from her. Not even to protect her.
“Will you tell us if it becomes relevant?” he asked, giving himself a compromise between respect and protection.
Iliana bit her lip, seeming to consider his words before finally nodding. “Yes.”
He’d hold her to that. For now, he could give her the space she needed.
Hypnos muttered something under his breath but didn’t argue further.
Before the tension could relax, Hermes appeared. His attention touched Iliana before his focus turned to Thanatos. “The safe house is compromised.”
Thanatos turned to face the other god. “How do you know?”
Hermes leaned in. “Because I just spent the last hour tracking ghosts. Each word I caught mentioned timing. ‘Before they realize.’ ‘When she’s vulnerable.’” He pulled back and raised his voice. “They’re planning to attack tonight.”
Iliana paled, her body tensing.
Anubis hauled her tight against his chest.
“I have more safe houses,” Thanatos said, as his eyes met Anubis’. They were darker than usual with banked fury, but the reluctance to leave Iliana shone through the icy anger.
Inside their minds, Thanatos said, “We should set a trap. But I cannot leave her.”
Hypnos spoke aloud before Anubis could. “I’ll go.”
“Go where?” Iliana asked. “Are the safe houses not secure?”
Thanatos reassured her. “The wards will hold against most threats, but if someone knows where you are…”
“You want me somewhere no one’s looking,” Iliana said quietly.
Anubis squeezed her a little tighter and answered. “Yes.”
“You’re setting a trap at the place they think I’ll be,” she said.
“Anubis and Hypnos will handle it,” Thanatos said steadily, despite the tightness in his body. “I am staying with you.”
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll go with you to the new safe house.”
Anubis turned her to face him. “Hypnos and I will not be far behind.”
Her frown deepened, but after a moment she nodded. “Be safe.”
The words were simple, but the fear and trust in them made him ache. He managed to smile past a grimace, the expression probably looking as unconvincing as it felt. “Always.”
Anubis looked at Thanatos, seeing his friend alert, his eyes determined and protective. The words that left Anubis felt unnecessary and inadequate, but he didn’t stop them from sounding in his head.
“Keep her safe.”
Thanatos’ hand moved to Iliana’s shoulder, both possessive and gentle. “You know I will.”
Anubis nodded. His protectiveness had made the words sound like doubt, and he knew Thanatos would hear it that way. He’d apologize later.
Thin mountain air replaced the heat of the desert as Anubis appeared back in Switzerland, troubled as he thought about the mystery surrounding Iliana.
Whatever Iliana was hiding from them, she was struggling with her choice to keep it to herself.
Terrified of it, even. He just hoped that when the truth came out, he could respect that choice, even if it cost him.
Hypnos arrived beside him a second later, his sword already drawn, its blade flashing in the moonlight.
A fierce scowl twisted his features, the detachment he liked to wear stripped away.
“So, we wait here for an attack that might not come?” Hypnos scanned the perimeter.
“If they’re powerful enough to have found this place, Thanatos’ wards won’t stop them. ”
“No,” Anubis agreed. “But they will announce their arrival.”
“Wonderful. A doorbell for our would-be assassins.”
Anubis might’ve smiled if the situation weren’t so dire. “We need to mask our powers. I will transform and watch from the outside.”
Hypnos grumbled something that sounded like agreement and vanished, his divine presence dampening to nearly nothing as he moved through the house.
Anubis shifted into his jackal form, his paws sinking into the snow-covered ground. His ears twitched, listening for anything unnatural, but he heard only the sounds of wildlife. The lack of noise amplified his turmoil as he prowled around the perimeter, remaining on edge.
During his watch, the only movement came from nocturnal animals. No enemy gods, no monsters, and no assassins. Nothing.
It started snowing again, dusting his fur. He shook off a flake that landed on his nose, frustration only adding to his sour mood. All he wanted to do was return to Iliana instead of wasting his time on an attack that wouldn’t come.
Had Hermes been wrong?
The atmosphere changed in an instant when a presence joined him.
Anubis didn’t feel threatened; just watched. As if whoever it was had no interest in interfering with what was going on here. The sensation was familiar in a way he couldn’t place, tickling memories from long ago.
Before he could pin down the source, the nocturnal sounds cut off abruptly. Unnaturally. Anubis froze, his jackal ears attempting to pinpoint where the being could be.
There was a slight movement to his right. Anubis’ body coiled, ready to strike.
A shadow too dark to be caused by the moonlight lengthened, stretching toward him like fingers.
Anubis bared his teeth as he sent out his power to search for the threat.
What he found stopped him cold. It wasn’t an attacker. It was something old and familiar. Something he’d encountered only a handful of times in all his existence. Observing. The same energy from those who watched fate unfold but never interfered with it.
Kabeiroi. It had to be.
A shape against one of the trees moved, its energy touching his senses, curiously. Then it was gone, leaving a slight odor of iron and burnt oil.
Hypnos appeared next to him a moment later, his sword in hand and looking around the area for threats. “I sensed your power. What is it?”
Anubis shifted back to human form, staring at where the specter had been. “Something was here. Not an enemy.”
“What then?” Hypnos asked, still on edge as he looked in the same direction.
Anubis shook his head, trying to put his thoughts together. “I think that was one of the Kabeiroi.”
Hypnos’ expression changed from perplexed to annoyed, then concerned. He lowered his sword but didn’t sheath it, his knuckles going white around the hilt. “Kabeiroi? You’re sure?”
“Not entirely, but it fits,” Anubis admitted. “They are beings of mystery. Of passage. I have only been near them a handful of times. All moments when something significant was about to happen. Or when someone was about to step onto a path where there was no return.”
His friend’s eyes narrowed. “I know some believe they’re record-keepers. They’re secretive and rarely seen, always seeming to be present during major events. But they’ve also fought when it suited them or granted boons. Why were they here this time?”
Anubis frowned at the empty tree line. “The last time I saw one was the night before Osiris was murdered. I sensed the same thing. This one was only here to watch.”
“Were they watching us, or waiting for Iliana?”
The being had been neither hostile nor benign. Not an ally, but not an enemy either.
Anubis met Hypnos’ eyes. “If they are watching Iliana, it is because whatever is coming could change everything. For all of us.”
“The prophecy,” Hypnos began. “The Fates gave her a prophecy, and now the Kabeiroi are watching. Whatever the Fates saw in her destiny, it’s big enough to draw witnesses from these beings.”
Anubis nodded, though the confirmation did nothing to ease the knot in his chest. “She knows. Whatever the Fates told her, she knows how significant this is. That is why she will not tell us.”
“Because knowing might change how we act,” Hypnos finished.
After another minute of silence, Hypnos asked, “You don’t seem nearly as upset with her keeping things from us. From lying.”
Anubis considered his observation. “Wrong? No. Foolish? Maybe.” He shook his head. “She is trying to protect us by controlling information. We are trying to protect her by demanding it. It seems neither of us trusts the other to handle the truth.”
“So, what do we do?”
“We trust her. Even knowing she is keeping secrets, and that it might get her killed.” He met Hypnos’ eyes. “The alternative is becoming her jailers instead of her protectors.”
Hypnos huffed; Anubis wasn’t sure if he agreed with him or not.
Out here, thousands of miles away from Iliana, wasn’t where Anubis wanted to be. “It has been hours. If someone were after Iliana, they would have struck by now. We should return to her. Besides, she will be sleeping soon and will need you there.”
Hypnos sheathed his sword but didn’t move to leave. “You think Hermes was wrong?”
Anubis shook his head. “No, but we may have been drawn here for another reason, or someone wanted us out of the way.”
Frowning, Hypnos asked, “You don’t think Hermes was setting us up, do you?”
“No.” Anubis was sure of that. Hermes was many things, but he wasn’t stupid enough to manipulate them when Iliana was in danger.
Anubis had seen the way the god was when he was around her.
Yes, curiosity seemed to drive Hermes, but Anubis had seen his concern when he looked at Iliana.
His affection, even. “But it could be possible that he was fed worthless information, either deliberately or because he trusted the source.”
Hypnos scowled, rubbing his face. “Fantastic. Now we’re reacting to nosy spirits while figuring out Iliana’s curse.”
Anubis remained silent. He knew Hypnos’ frustration stemmed from the lack of progress he’d had with her curse. “Let us go,” he said.
Anubis gave one final look at the house. Silent when it had been full of life recently. Cold and lifeless without Iliana’s smiles, laughs, and bright spirit.
Anubis left the cold mountain behind—returning to her side.