Hey, y'all! Dakota here with a new chapter in my smut-laden series about a guy who teams up with a few sexy supernatural beings to do battle with ancient gods. It's been a year since I embarked on this journey, and the response from the Lit community has been phenomenal. Seriously, guys, your comments, ratings, and emails keep me going. I'm frankly in disbelief at how many of you have been reading my dorky series. Without you, this story would have stalled out a while ago.
This is essentially a serialized novel, so I recommend starting at the beginning to avoid unnecessary confusion.
Returning readers, hello! I'm so excited to finally get to share this chapter as I'd been planning it for a while. Here we're going to learn a lot more about the mechanics of this universe and answer a ton of questions about it. This chapter is going to expand on several characters we've only seen glimpses of, including getting real intimate with a certain slithering deity.
Okay, without further ado, let's visit . . .
Somewhere Else
Edward wandered the afterlife.
It was supposed to be heaven, or so he was told.
After weighing his heart, Anubis wasn't much interested in answering his questions. His assistant, Ammit, terrible in her amalgamated animal form, transformed again. She became human, or something close to it. Shiny green scales and the fur of a lioness fought human skin for real estate over a well-endowed body.
"Not what I would have predicted for you," she said. Her smile dripped with disdain but she no longer looked at him like a hungry predator. "Welcome to Sekhet-Aaru."
"Better than oblivion, I guess."
"Indeed. Maybe I'll see you later . . ."
"In a while, crocodile."
Sekhet-Aaru—The Field of Reeds—was a bit of a misnomer. A great river, its current calm and steady, cut through a large valley and Edward wondered about the convenience that the Egyptian afterlife featured the Nile running through it.
The afterlife had its perks though. He felt great, for one. He no longer suffered from hunger or thirst, and still, drinking from the river was refreshing. It was warm, and the sun bore down on him with steady heat but never became oppressive nor did it burn him. He didn't sweat, nor did he need to urinate or defecate. He walked without fatigue, occasionally stopping to lie down on the riverbank, watching the stars move across the sky at night.
Days came and went and Edward walked.
After a time, he wasn't sure how long, he came upon a farmhouse, set back from the river's edge. It was made of mudbrick and, oddly enough, was rather humble.
A man worked in the field next to the river. A woman, presumably his wife, walked with a basket on her head, gathering reeds.
Edward approached them cautiously.
"Greetings," he called. "Nice day, isn't it?"
The man regarded him for a moment in confusion. He looked up at the clear sky.
"It is."
"You speak English?"
"That your tongue, eh? No. You're speaking mine. To me at least. And I am speaking mine to you. That's how it is here. It's not perfect but you'll get used to it."
"I guess I've revealed my newness. I'm a bit embarrassed to ask but I'm not sure what I should be doing."
The man, barefoot, was covered in mud to his knees. He wore a simple wrap of undyed fabric around his waist and had been working the land with a simple hoe. But he was fit and healthy-looking. He flashed a broad, white smile.
"That's the trouble with eternity," the man said. "What to do with all that time?" He turned to his wife, who'd set the basket down and came to meet the stranger. She was beautiful, with angular features and straight black hair that framed her face. "I met my wife only briefly when we were alive. Circumstances didn't allow us to be together then but we found each other here. I vowed to spend eternity being worthy of her love."
"You've always been worthy, my husband," she said, her smile genuine.
"So you spend eternity farming?" Edward asked.
The man smiled, leaning against his hoe. "It's something I was unable to pursue in life. Bringing life from the soil. Seems quaint but it suits us just fine."
Edward regarded their modest plot of land and their simple home next to the great sweep of the river. "It's nice here. What did you do in life?"
"Politics, mostly. But it's no longer important. Would you like to sup with us? There's plenty to eat."
Edward almost said no automatically. He hadn't eaten anything since he arrived as he didn't feel hungry. But the idea of food was enticing nonetheless.
His host led him to a small cooking fire near the house and he was directed to sit on a rough-spun mat while the wife ladled a delicious-smelling stew into wooden bowls for them. She sat with her own bowl next to her husband.
"How about you?" the farmer asked. "What were you in life?"
"I was an apprentice to a druidess."
"A what?"
"A witch. Although she hated to be called that."
The man nodded. "Is she here?"
Edward shook his head. "No. It's just me."
"You're the first new soul we've seen in a long time," the wife added. "No one is holy enough anymore. What happened?"
Edward shrugged. "Things changed, I gather. Thousands of years have passed. People forgot. They moved on."
"But not you? You believed."
Edward thought about his fight with Anubis. About his participation in what he now understood was a ritualistic orgy. "I believed what I saw."
The stew was full of vegetables and barley, and they ate it with a dense black bread. It was, without a doubt, the best meal Edward had ever had. He recognized that, if he wanted to, he could eat that stew continuously for all of eternity. He'd never get full just as he'd never starve. To a poor English kid who spent his childhood two missed meals from starvation, this really was heaven.
"I expected the afterlife to be more crowded," he said, thinking out loud. "I'm not sure when I arrived. Time is strange here. But you're the first people I've met."
"You'll get used to how days work here," his host said. "And you are right to observe that this place seems empty."
"It is empty," the wife agreed. "I miss the children."
"Children?"
"Children, especially the very young ones, arrive here easily. Nothing to weigh the heart down, you see. That's what we did, my Ani and I. We watched over the children while they waited here."
"There would be laughter all up and down the river," Ani added. "They would romp and frolic the way children are supposed to. Many of them did not have pleasant lives on Earth. They died young, obviously. But here they could just be children."
"What happened to them?"
