Descendant

answered riddles, jumped through the hoops, danced to the tunes. . . . In short, you played by the rules. Fennrys had never been very good at playing by the rules. But Mason was down there, somewhere, caught in an infernal realm, and that was the only thing that mattered. He needed to find her. And if a talking crocodile had any useful insights, he’d spare a minute and listen. But only a minute.

“Let him up,” he said to Maddox. “We’ll just take him out again if he gets frisky. In a less gentle fashion.”

Once freed, Sobek’s reptilian form began to shimmer and twist, and then, suddenly, a man—bald, stocky, with a craggy complexion and blunt features—stood before them, garbed in a somewhat shabbier version of Rafe’s glittering, elegant accoutrements. Sobek brushed the dust from his loincloth and turned to Fennrys, his eyes narrowing.

“Why are you down here, not-quite-dead boy? No . . . wait.” Sobek held up a hand. His tone shifted, dripping with weary sarcasm. “Let me guess. A girl.”

“Isn’t it always?” Rafe sighed.

“Hmph . . .” Sobek’s expression turned pinched, sour.

“I dunno.” Maddox shrugged. “Look how well it turned out for that Greek kid. Whatzisname. Orpheus.”

Fennrys raised an eyebrow at his friend. “He lost the girl and was ultimately torn to pieces at an orgy.”

“He was?”

“Even I know that.”

“Huh.”

Sobek had fixed his ancient, watery gaze on Fennrys and was staring silently at him. “Listen to me,” he said finally. “You should just turn back. There is something about this—whatever you think is happening here, wherever you think you are going—I have lived long enough, seen enough to know that this quest you are on has ‘Bad Idea’ written all over it. I hate to say it, but you, lad, are followed by an evil star.”

“I’m not exactly sure how you can tell that,” Fennrys said, unwilling to acknowledge just how much that stung him. “Seeing as how we’re underground and all . . .”

“This place isn’t underground.” Sobek snorted, Fenn’s sarcasm having escaped him utterly. “This place isn’t a place!” He turned to Rafe. “Did you not explain the way of things before you decided to lead him here?”

“Are you blind, Sobek?” Rafe scoffed. “There’s more to this one than meets the eye, old man.” Rafe pushed Fennrys forward. “Here. Smell him.”

Caught off guard by Rafe’s shove, Fennrys stumbled a few reluctant steps toward Sobek, who suddenly seemed to get a good whiff of Fenn’s scent or aura or soul—whatever the hell it was he was sniffing out—and Sobek’s beady eyes suddenly went wide. He reeled backward, bumping into Maddox, who shot out a hand to keep the demigod from falling on his rump.

“Ra . . . ,” Sobek murmured, an oath—the name of the most powerful and revered of the Egyptian gods. And the most feared.

He’s afraid, Fennrys thought. Of me.

“What is he?” Sobek asked Rafe.

“He’s what he is,” Rafe answered unhelpfully. “A linchpin, maybe. The single thing that holds everything together. Or a time bomb that’ll blow everything apart. Too early to tell.” He sighed. “Can we pass now?”

“You know he’ll never make it through the Hall of Judgment,” Sobek said darkly. “If I can smell the wrongs on him, then he doesn’t stand a chance with the Soul Eater. She cannot be fooled.”

“Soul . . . Eater?” Maddox went a bit pale.

“I was wrong. I can’t help him,” Sobek continued. “I don’t think anyone can. And I’m sorry to say this”— Sobek turned a grim look on Fennrys—“but it’s probably for the best if she just tears you into pieces too small to find afterward.”

Fennrys could feel his forehead contracting in an angry frown. Where did everyone get off judging him like that? Were the things he’d done in his life so very wrong? What ever happened to second chances?

Aw, to hell with it.

They could think whatever they wanted. He was a changed person. Mason Starling had seen to that. Through an effort of will, Fenn forced the creases from his brow and said lightly, “Says you.” Then he turned to Rafe and tapped his wrist with one finger. “Time’s a-wasting. . . .”

“Don’t do it, Anubis,” Sobek said. “No good can come of this.”

Rafe looked back and forth between the old, worn deity and Fennrys.

And then he grinned his jackal grin and echoed Fennrys: “Says you.”

Maddox stifled a chuckle and stepped up to flank Fenn, and the three of them started off toward the deeper darkness that was waiting. They’d almost made it the rest of the way down the hall when suddenly, a flaming projectile soared over their heads, and a great wall of flame roared up in front of them. They turned to see Sobek sprinting down the hall toward them, chased by a dozen howling simian creatures, fangs bared, hurling fireballs that they conjured out of the air.

Fennrys glanced at Rafe and saw that he’d gone wide-eyed.

“Your missing baboons?” he asked drily.

The creatures were more like enormous, mutant, apelike monstrosities with dagger blades for fangs and fiery yellow eyes. Bulging with muscle and malevolence, they were terrifying to behold. And closing fast. Sobek, only barely out in front of them, issued a high-pitched wail of panic as he ran.

“My missing baboons.” Rafe nodded and glanced over his shoulder at the roiling conflagration the fireball had ignited, which now barred their way. “And my Lake of Fire . . . yeah. It’s really more like a Pond of Fire these days, but it gets the job done. Unfortunately.” He dodged another ball of fire and muttered, “I’d forgotten how much I hate those freaking monkeys. . . .”

“What do we do?” Maddox asked, unfazed by the situation.

Rafe frowned. “I can carry one of you across the flames. But that’s it.”

Fennrys opened his mouth in protest, but Maddox nodded and said, “Right. Off you go, then. I’ll hang here and give old Sobek a hand.”

“Madd—no!”

“Shut up and don’t be stupid.” Maddox turned to him, his gaze placid. “Your girl is waiting for you, and this isn’t your big trial to face. I’m pretty sure that’ll come next. This is a distraction.” He pulled the chain weapon out of his belt pouch again and began to swing it in a circle. He grinned at Fennrys. “I’ll see you back in Manhattan, yeah?”

Fennrys knew that Maddox was right. He knew, instinctively, that he could stay and fight beside Maddox and win, but in doing so he would have lost. Wasted too much time . . . allowed a door that was open to close . . . something. Part of the real winning was knowing when not to fight. Knowing when to trust his friend enough to leave him behind.

Fennrys had never really had friends to trust. It was a new sensation.

He held out his hand, and the two young men clasped wrists.

“You die and I’ll kill you,” Fennrys said. “And only ’cause Chloe will have killed me first.”

“Again.” Maddox grinned and shooed him on his way.

The screams of the baboons were so loud that they were almost deafening. Sobek was screaming, too, and the fireballs flew thick and fast. Rafe transformed into his huge, sleek black wolf self, and Fennrys threw himself onto the god’s back, gripping the thick fur tightly and burying his face in the pelt to protect himself from the flames as Anubis, Protector of the Dead, did his job and, backing up so he could take a good run at leaping over the flames, got Fennrys the hell out of his own hellish domain.

IX

“S-Starling . . . ?” Tag Overlea called out to Mason, his voice weird and querulous. His letterman jacket stood out like a wildly inflamed sore thumb among all the leather and iron of the Einherjar, and