Read Online Labyrinth (Book 5) by Kat Richardson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kat Richardson
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dead, too, and it sounds like more of Wygan’s minions at work.”
My announcement didn’t come as a surprise to Quinton—he’d eavesdropped on my conversation with Solis, after all—but the Danzigers both looked taken aback. I was getting used to the number of dead people around me aside from the ordinary run of ghosts. I didn’t care for it, but it was a fact of what I was and how I’d gotten that way that death seemed to litter my background landscape like so many rocks in a floodplain. It even showed up in family photos as smudges and phantoms that weren’t just dust and lens flare.
I explained. “Todd Simondson—the guy who killed me two years ago—may be a little easier to get to than my father. I suspect he was killed by the same people, so he might have useful information, and if I can get anything out of him, that may help me get to Dad.”
Mara seemed to approve of my ill-expressed logic. “And from your father, perhaps a way to put paid to whatever the Pharaohn-ankh-astet is plannin’. It’s got to be nasty, whatever it is....”
Quinton was the only one left out of that reference. He turned a quizzical expression on me.
I sighed, feeling drained by the long recitation with still more ahead. “Lost?” I asked.
“A bit. You mentioned the asetem last night, but you didn’t say what they were. Some kind of vampire, but . . . what’s the deal? Aside from the spooky eyes and their resistance to stun sticks.”
“They’re Egyptian,” Ben started. He was in full lecture mode. “According to the legends, the boy-priest Astet was killed but didn’t die. He was so perfect in his devotion to the gods that they allowed him to live, even though they couldn’t restore his life—if you get the fine distinction. He was the undead, being on earth but existing in the afterlife as well. Very interesting stuff for a people who believed the afterlife was the perfection of earthly life, complete with food and sex and so on. So a cult formed around him and his closest followers also became the undead. How is a point of debate, but the upshot is it’s a lot harder to get to be an asete than a regular vampire—kind of an exclusive afterlife club with fringe benefits in the real world. It’s a pretty early version of the vampire myth. Some claim it’s the earliest, but the Assyrians have one about as old and the Asian vampire myths go back before that.”
Quinton looked a little doubtful. “Do you think there’s a real vampire for every myth?”
“Not all of them, perhaps, but some.”
I’d have been willing to bet against that statement: my experience had been that whatever humans believed strongly enough had form in the Grey. The only question would be how far those things projected into the normal for ordinary people to perceive and be tormented by.
Quinton took it all in like a sponge. “All right, so we have the asetem—these glowy-eyed creepazoids I’ve been seeing around—and they have a . . . what did you call it?”
“Pharaohn,” Ben said. “The ruler of the asetem is given the title Pharaohn-ankh-astet—God-King, Life of Astet—like the ancient pharaohs of Egypt were thought to be direct descendants of the god Ra. His subjects are the asetem-ankh-astet, or roughly translated, ‘descendants of Astet who are the life of Astet.’ They believe they are the children of the blood and soul of the immortal boy-priest. They’re a bit different from the regular kind of vampire: They’re emotion-feeders, not just blood-feeders. Supposedly they’re not as fast as Western vampires like Edward’s people, but they’re natural magic-users, which most Western vampires aren’t.”
“I can vouch for the speed,” Quinton said.
Ben perked up. “Really?”
“Yeah. They were showing up downtown and around the underground before I moved out. I got chased by a bunch of them the night I figured I should move someplace safer. If they’d been as fast as the regular kind, I’d be dead. Or
My announcement didn’t come as a surprise to Quinton—he’d eavesdropped on my conversation with Solis, after all—but the Danzigers both looked taken aback. I was getting used to the number of dead people around me aside from the ordinary run of ghosts. I didn’t care for it, but it was a fact of what I was and how I’d gotten that way that death seemed to litter my background landscape like so many rocks in a floodplain. It even showed up in family photos as smudges and phantoms that weren’t just dust and lens flare.
I explained. “Todd Simondson—the guy who killed me two years ago—may be a little easier to get to than my father. I suspect he was killed by the same people, so he might have useful information, and if I can get anything out of him, that may help me get to Dad.”
Mara seemed to approve of my ill-expressed logic. “And from your father, perhaps a way to put paid to whatever the Pharaohn-ankh-astet is plannin’. It’s got to be nasty, whatever it is....”
Quinton was the only one left out of that reference. He turned a quizzical expression on me.
I sighed, feeling drained by the long recitation with still more ahead. “Lost?” I asked.
“A bit. You mentioned the asetem last night, but you didn’t say what they were. Some kind of vampire, but . . . what’s the deal? Aside from the spooky eyes and their resistance to stun sticks.”
“They’re Egyptian,” Ben started. He was in full lecture mode. “According to the legends, the boy-priest Astet was killed but didn’t die. He was so perfect in his devotion to the gods that they allowed him to live, even though they couldn’t restore his life—if you get the fine distinction. He was the undead, being on earth but existing in the afterlife as well. Very interesting stuff for a people who believed the afterlife was the perfection of earthly life, complete with food and sex and so on. So a cult formed around him and his closest followers also became the undead. How is a point of debate, but the upshot is it’s a lot harder to get to be an asete than a regular vampire—kind of an exclusive afterlife club with fringe benefits in the real world. It’s a pretty early version of the vampire myth. Some claim it’s the earliest, but the Assyrians have one about as old and the Asian vampire myths go back before that.”
Quinton looked a little doubtful. “Do you think there’s a real vampire for every myth?”
“Not all of them, perhaps, but some.”
I’d have been willing to bet against that statement: my experience had been that whatever humans believed strongly enough had form in the Grey. The only question would be how far those things projected into the normal for ordinary people to perceive and be tormented by.
Quinton took it all in like a sponge. “All right, so we have the asetem—these glowy-eyed creepazoids I’ve been seeing around—and they have a . . . what did you call it?”
“Pharaohn,” Ben said. “The ruler of the asetem is given the title Pharaohn-ankh-astet—God-King, Life of Astet—like the ancient pharaohs of Egypt were thought to be direct descendants of the god Ra. His subjects are the asetem-ankh-astet, or roughly translated, ‘descendants of Astet who are the life of Astet.’ They believe they are the children of the blood and soul of the immortal boy-priest. They’re a bit different from the regular kind of vampire: They’re emotion-feeders, not just blood-feeders. Supposedly they’re not as fast as Western vampires like Edward’s people, but they’re natural magic-users, which most Western vampires aren’t.”
“I can vouch for the speed,” Quinton said.
Ben perked up. “Really?”
“Yeah. They were showing up downtown and around the underground before I moved out. I got chased by a bunch of them the night I figured I should move someplace safer. If they’d been as fast as the regular kind, I’d be dead. Or
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