InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Embracing Ice ❯ In Betweens [Lime Content] ( Chapter 30 )

Disclaimer/Ownership Notice: Just a little note that I don’t own any of the characters from Inuyasha: A Feudal Fairytale. However, I do own: Konton, Bishou, Ikris, and Ishi. Anubis and Wepwawet are property of Rinseternalsoul, and they are being used with her consent/assistance.

A/N: I know you’ve had to wait a little while for this chapter, but I hope you all think it’s worth it! By the way, fun little side note. This chapter has had its title changed six times.

Warning: This is the NC-17 Version of this Chapter. The R Version is available at: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2395964/30/Embracing_Ice.

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Embracing Ice

Written By: Yabou

Character of Wepwawet and Chapter Co-Written By: Rinseternalsoul

Edited By: Wiccan

Chapter Thirty: In Betweens

- - - - -

Bishou shook from the power of her waning visions. “You must go.”

Her mate frowned, gently cradling her still-recovering body against his side. “I cannot leave you like this. You are weakened.”

“Our son is here,” she assured him, brushing her hands over his. “Please, Mate, you must go. Something inside of me fears what will happen if you do not possess them by the eve of the mating.”

Carefully, he placed a kiss behind her ear. “I will return.”

“May your steps be swift,” Bishou whispered. After assuring herself that he was out of sight, she pulled the blankets back and stood. “It will never be soon enough.”

- - - - -

She was gasping, clutching, rasping for air. The world was hot and, somewhere between the heat of his skin and sweat covering hers, she could not find enough blessed oxygen to breathe. Sesshoumaru had managed to get underneath her skin, in between her thighs, and she was certain she was going to die.There was no way what he was doing was legal but, then again, she wasn't so sure that law mattered much in her current time period.Rolling their bodies, Kagome shoved her hands into his platinum tresses and forced him against the pallet, tangling his hands in the sheets. Through light, tender kisses and caresses, the miko burned a pathway down his body. He had missed her, that much she was sure of by the way his fingertips sought her body like a man dying from thirst as soon as they could be alone.With a soft sigh, she blew a stream of cold air against the overheated flesh covering the youkai's rigidly muscled abdomen. The skin shivered, much like that of a dog's, and she was confounded by how very dog-like he was. Since beginning her lessons with Bishou, Kagome had noticed the subtle differences between the youkai female's behaviour and other human women. However, Sesshoumaru had been away while she was learning, and his return opened her eyes to an entirely different world. The world of youkai was not as she expected it to be, to say the very least.Nuzzling his stomach, she kissed and rubbed her cheek against the flesh just below his navel, a youkai's greeting. She could feel the presence of his obvious want pressing into the valley between her breasts, but she ignored it and pushed away her blush.Sesshoumaru froze - his mind gearing up for the event Kagome so blatantly offered to him. "Stop," he hissed, clenching his teeth."What?" She sat up quickly. "What's wrong?""Do not suggest what cannot occur," he growled, attempting to suppress his urges."Huh?" Kagome tilted her head to one side with a confused expression."By doing so," he explained, gesturing to her former position, "you are offering your... body to me."A blush flamed its way up her neck and onto her face. "Oh."

“However,” a hungry gleam lit his eyes, “I would take what ever you were offering, Kagome.”

‘Oh my,’ the miko felt a jolt of heat shoot down her spine to curl in the pit of her stomach. There was something predatory in the way he moved as he shifted his body over her. Skin tingling, Kagome was aware of every movement he made.

The way his knees brushed the inside of her thighs. The feeling of his thumb tracing the smooth skin of her hip. The heat of his breath brushing against her face.

“I missed you,” Sesshoumaru whispered, sliding his cheek against hers. His long, thick tongue stroked the flesh under her ear. “I had almost forgotten what you taste like.”

“What I… taste like?” she managed through the haze of arousal overloading her brain.

Smirking, the young daiyoukai repeated the action. “Yes, inu youkai can use the tongue to memorize a taste. We allow it to expand with blood and use it to experience our surroundings. It gives us an… advantage over more primitive beasts because we can select to retain certain occurrences more strongly than others.”

Kagome struggled to catch her breath under his continued ministrations, “Is that so-oh?”

“Yes,” he moved down her chest, separating the kimono’s layers and pushing them away to expose her flesh. “Did you miss me?”

“Ah, yes!” she cried out as his teasing tongue wrapped around the tightened peak. With shaking hands, the miko threaded her fingers through his hair, reveling in the feel of it after such a long absence.

Sesshoumaru took an extended inhalation, completely relaxing in her presence. It had been so many days since he had last rested between her thighs. Too long. With one last lingering kiss to the swell of her breast, he continued down the line of her toned stomach, pausing only long enough to remove her obi and fully separate the layers of cloth keeping her skin from his possessive mouth. His body yearned to fill and stretch her in ways that would leave them both exhausted and satiated, but it was not to be so. There were formalities in the mating of a future demon lord that had to be observed.

Feeling her naked knee brush against the straining fabric of his hakama, though, Sesshoumaru nearly gave in.

“Sesshoumaru,” Kagome heatedly whispered as she arched into his caresses. Nimble fingers worked their way beneath his hair and haori to stroke the strong contours of his back. “Gods, I missed you.”

- - - - -

Ikris worriedly rubbed her swollen stomach, ignoring the light tremors in favor of her current task. The mere fact that Lady Bishou was concerned - nearly overcome with worry - was the reason she now sat in the room of the immortal miko who had once hidden her form in that of a fish.

“It will work,” Sunao responded from the doorway, her slight form blocking what little sunlight still existed in the waning moments of the early evening. “My bronze mirror has never failed. Ask what you want of it, and it will show you truth."

With a slow nod, the Egyptian priestess returned her attention to the polished metal surface. “Show me Wepwawet.”

A light red sheen flickered across the surface, twisting and swirling into a void as it attempted to give Ikris what she asked. Trails of lightning danced over her fingertips and sapped some of her power to tie the world of the living to that of the dead. Multi-colored beams shot out of the center of the visual pit and ran together to create a miniature version of the inugod,an invisible beast.

He was battling against a massive scorpion that clicked its fury while stabbing with a deadly tail. For a moment her heart stilled in fear for him, but the scene continued to play out.He was glorious, clearly in his element. Her fear was lost as she watched the magnificent warrior dodge the stinger before swinging his weapon, finally destroyinghis enemy with one powerful strike. Once the overgrown insect was exterminated, he seemed to become aware of her presence. He turned,around frantically before finally looking up. His surprise was palpable; sherepressed a giggle as her surefooted warrior nearly stumbled and fell.

"Ikris? It is you! I thought that I felt you here, but how... why...?"

“My most honorable mate, I have need of you.” She smiled, many nights of worry washing away at the first sound of his strong voice - the unborn pup in her stomach shifted and kicked.

Wepwawet felt as if someone had just punched him in the gut. His Ikris was in need? Thoughts raced through his mind... was she in danger? Could he make it there in time? Before he let his worry carry him away, he took a deep calming breath and forced himself to think clearly. "Is there trouble, my love? Are you well?"

"My wonderful mate," Ikris assured him, "my onlyis the ache I feelstand at your side once again. For now, I call upon you merely to ask a small favor."

Wepwapet visibly relaxed once he was reassured of her welfare. He then sheathed his battle-ax and smiled. "Ah, my lady, this Wepwawet has missed you desperately. It is with great pleasure that I view your beautiful face, yet it does little to soothe the eternalfor your touch. Tell me, my love, what is it that you require of me?"

Curly, dark brown hair spilled freely over her shoulders, and her usual tanned complexion shown with an unearthly radiance – the product of her pregnancy. “Dearest of my heart, I wish to request a special gift for the young miko who has saved my life. Three days ago, the Lady Bishou came to me and asked of a certain cloth found deep within your lands. She desires to have something formed for the Lady Kagome. Would it be possible to obtain such a gift?”

"Yes, I do know of this cloth of which you speak. It is guarded well but, as a gift for the woman who saved your life, it is a meager request. This Wepwawet shall obtain it for you. Fear not, for it is yours."then bowed with playfulflourish, while gifting her with a smile capable of rendering even the most frigid womanwith desire.

- - - - -

Kagome panted as she came down from the high of her orgasm, satiated eyes staring at the beads of sweat clinging to her future mate’s neck. This was when he was the most beautiful. His hair clung to his bare torso, wild and unmanageable.

With his deadly claws moving tremulously, the demonic prince resisted the urge to bury his length between her thighs. The memory of her unknowing offering still stirred fresh in his mind, and he was incapable of laying it to rest. “Tell me of your time with my mother and of your training,” Sesshoumaru requested in an attempt to distract himself.

Propping herself up on her elbows, the miko gazed at the youkai beneath her. He was always so attentive and caring. There was nothing he would not do for her happiness – no matter the agony it caused his body. In slow motion, Kagome lowered her head and pressed their mouths together. Pulling away, she softly whispered into his ear, “I cannot recall anything other than missing you, it seems.”

“You tease me,” Sesshoumaru replied, smiling all the while.

Tilting her head to one side, she dropped a kiss on his neck and slid her tongue along the curve of his collarbone. “Surely not,” the young woman continued, “I cannot lie to you.” Across his stomach, she scattered teasing licks and nips until she reached the barrier of fabric tied around his waist. “You do so much for me.”

Sesshoumaru sucked in a choking breath as her small hands manipulated the ties, undoing and pushing them aside.

“I want to do this for you,” Kagome declared and wrapped her slender fingers around him to make the first smooth stroke. A light blush stained her cheeks when she finally looked at what she held. The skin was a shade or two darker than the rest, and several thick blue lines wound their way from the base to the tip beneath the flesh. A question worked its way through her lips before she had the chance to stop it. “Where’s the hair?”

The young daiyoukai would have had the decency to laugh, if the comment had not been accompanied by a slight tug that kept him otherwise occupied. “I control,” he managed, “the growth of my body.”

Kagome’s eyes widened considerably. “Oh,” the red on her neck swept lower to cover her chest. “I see.” It was amazing to think that a being could have that much authority over himself. Catching sight of one of the pulsing blue paths, she trailed her nail over it and smiled at the gasp with which she was rewarded.

A bead of liquid gathered on the tip attracted her attention next. With one finger, she traced the slight indentation and spread the sticky substance over his heated flesh.

Sesshoumaru felt as if the world had shifted on its axis and thrown him completely off balance. Each touch left a feeling so hot that he thought he might burn the bedding. His arousal was overwhelming, and the sensation of her small hands fondling his erection did the impossible by fanning the flames. Unable to keep them open, the youkai closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, willing himself not to roar out the fullness of his passion.

- - - - -

“You are the one known as Totosai?” Konton questioned, examining the barren cave the demon lived in. If he was the impressive blacksmith his mate proclaimed him, it surely was not apparent in his simple living style.

A bent old man with large round eyes hobbled out of the darkness with a small cane in hand. “Who wants to know?”

“I am the Inu no Taisho,” the younger youkai proclaimed with a low bow, “Lord Konton of the Western Lands.”

“Ah, so you’re the pup that Bishou managed to capture, eh?” He smiled, revealing a set of chipped teeth.

Ignoring the jibe, Konton continued, “I am. Bishou claims that you are capable of making magical blades. Is this true?”

“I suppose. I am Totosai. I have been known to make a few interesting objects,” he responded, then turned to reenter his dark abode.

“I would like to commission two swords,” Konton stated.

Totosai paused and threw a weary glance over his shoulder. “So, the time has come, has it? The miko… she is to mate your oldest son?”

“My only son,” the Inu no Taisho clarified.

“Ah yes.” The sword-maker appeared thoughtful. “It is not time for the second. Always forgetting. Damn this memory of mine.”

“Will you make them?” Konton asked, avoiding the subject of his supposed future.

Wielding his cane, Totosai used its length to pick up two buckets from the black recesses. “I do believe that it is time for a bath.” He sighed, “It is a pity. The only good water is at the base of the mountain.”

Black eyes glittered with joy as he watched his former student’s mate walk down the path to retrieve steaming liquids from the hot springs. “So it shall be Bishou,” he mumbled and bent to light his forge. “Your Sight was always so much stronger than mine.”

- - - - -
(Bonus Section)
The Retrieval of the Cloth
By Rinseternalsoul


He knew that he was in love. If he had ever once doubted it, then he had the truth of it now. There was no way he would submit himself to this for anything but love.

Wepwawet looked around the mouth of the cavern with disgust and no small amount of wariness. It was a low-lying area just off the main course of the river Nile, thus the murky water reached to his waist. There was little light, but dozens of crocodiles. Very large crocodiles.

Of course the big reptiles were the least of his concerns for they were mortal creatures and easily dispatched–if he could avoid the powerful jaws and rows of teeth. He was immortal, but a bite by one of these monsters would hurt like hell. By the time he recovered from the shock of it, he would find himself swarmed by the lot of them. He was fully aware how badly that could turn out but, in truth, it was the things lurking beyond the crocs that worried him the most.

Refusing to dwell on the trials, Wepwawet squared his broad shoulders and pulled his battle-ax. He stepped into the muddy waters and grunted his disgust. Wet leather pants were beyond uncomfortable and the liquid filling his black boots was now surrounding his toes. He hoped that Ikris appreciated the lengths to which he would go just to please her.

The biggest crocodile, a male of extraordinary size, growled a warning and swished its massive tail. Wepwawet eyed him warily, but kept his course. He slowly waded through the beasts, silently cringing each time a slithering tail brushed against his legs. It would be a mistake to plow through the waters as his instincts urged him to do. The reptiles would consider his movements as a threat and attack.

He rebuffed a wily youth that sought to take a chunk from his thigh and, for a moment, considered killing them all. Unfortunately, Ammit cherished her pets; killing them would really piss her off.

As he approached the rising bank deep within the cave, Wepwawet began to breathe a sigh of relief until a huge male, one he had not noticed previously, charged. The beast came at him with the full force of its muscular body, tail swishing and mouth agape. He had just enough time to register the approach and realize that it was already too close to utilize the ax. Without another thought, he dropped the weapon and caught the jaws with his hands.

With the upper jaw in one hand and the lower jaw in the other, Wepwawet was afforded a startling look at its large, deadly teeth. He quickly turned his nose in disgust from the putrid breath, then pulled. Bones snapped, and the creature thrashed helplessly as the dog-god ripped the bottom jaw completely off before tossing the injured beast to the agitated mass beyond.

Cannibalistic bastards.

He turned away from the feeding frenzy, sticking his hand down into the water and retrieving his ax. While the crocs were busy he hauled himself out of the water and took a second to catch his breath on the other side. He only spared a moment, then continued on his way.

The cave was winding and filled with slithering creatures, but Wepwawet hardly noticed their presence. He was preparing himself for what lay ahead.

The fire breathing snakes of the underworld.

The cave meandered down a narrow channel then, surprisingly, it changed course, rising into the heart of a rocky mountain. Oddly enough, it once more changed direction, plunging deep into the earth. These passages were designed not only to discourage those who sought to enter, but also worked to push back the great Nile during flooding seasons.

The path Wepwawet followed soon widened and he was able to swing his ax. Just ahead the snakes made their nests and he had to be prepared. He gripped the heavy weapon, comforted by its familiar weight, and began a spin of the blade that quickened with each powerful, sweeping revolution. The sound of it cutting through the dense, cloying air brought a smirk of readiness to his face. His thick, muscular arms wielded the huge blade with ease and masterful grace.

The first snake struck from the right, its huge scaled head pulling back as it opened its mouth, flashing a lethal set of fangs. Wepwawet had never felt comfortable calling them snakes; they were closer to dragons than any snake he had ever witnessed in his eternal life. The slithering beasts were lacking legs, but their bodies were thick and long, with hides so tough that nothing less than the weapon of a god could cut through them.

While they resembled cobras, with their massive horned hoods, their noses were snubbed up like that of pigs. Massive eyes the size of Wepwawet’s head glowed unnaturally green in the darkness. Wepwawet hardly had time to consider the abnormalities of such a creature, before a blast of blistering fire spewed from its huge mouth.

Wepwawet blocked the gust, using the spiraling momentum of his ax as a shield. The flames burst around him as the spinning blade deflected the inferno. With an arch of his wrist and a twist of his powerful forearm, he sliced the head off the snake, and continued on.

Another one struck from above, stealthily seeking to drop down upon him and snap him up. Wepwawet immediately sent his spinning blade upward, slicing a long, deep wound in the belly of the beast. It released a tortured roar of pain as its guts spilled to the cave floor.

The commotion and blood was drawing the others near. He could smell them approaching from various cavern branches and knew that it was time to move on.

From the rear he heard a hiss of fury just before another scorching wave of fire was hurled his way. Wepwawet dove into a roll, coming up on his knees facing the blast, just in time to block the full force of the heat. He grimaced as he felt the sizzling impact scald his knuckles.

That one was close.
Without delay he pushed off the floor and broke into a run, dodging from side to side in order to avoid getting his backside charred. By the time he reached relative safety he was winded and pissed. He hated the fucking snakes and wished that he could safely release the full powers of his battle-ax without bringing the damn cave down on himself.

Once he caught his second wind, Wepwawet continued his journey down the ever-sloping cavern. With the snakes behind him, he now had to face an even greater threat before reaching his final destination. He dreaded the confrontation, but was confident in his ultimate victory. The baboon brothers didn’t stand a chance.

The stink of monkeys became a putrid nuisance the closer he came to the chamber guarding the door. Once more he pulled his weapon and prepared to do battle. When he entered the large subterranean chamber, Wepwawet was on high alert. The baboons were hardly cowardly reptiles, though, the brothers met him face to face.

They made their anger at his intrusion known by barking loudly and baring long, sharp canines. Though it was annoying as hell and painful to his ears, Wepwawet stood his ground and waited. He spread his legs, finding his center in preparation for their attack. He made no move to begin the fight, as he hoped they would let him pass in peace.

Once the two of them stopped leaping around and madly voicing their resentment, the baboon known as Okpara–the firstborn–stood on his hind quarters and regarded him with a snarl. Najja–the second son– stood just to Okpara’s right, stooped on his knuckles and drooling with discontent.

“Dare you enter here, immortal dog? Do you not fear the sons of Babi?” Okpara’s voice was bestial and ragged - infused with the power of the gods.

Babi, the baboon god, was not a favorite of Wepwawet’s, but the two of them had never had cause to cross swords. He hoped that would still be true after this confrontation with Babi’s sons. “I have come to seek an audience with Ammit. Let me pass.”

Najja snickered behind the shoulder of his brother, the sound malicious and filled with menace. Wepwawet would keep his eye on that one. He doubted the foul beast would fight fair.

Okpara shifted on the pads of his feet, swaying his great weight from side to side as he studied the intruder. “We are the Guardians of the Gate. No one passes without just cause. State your business here, dog.”

“The name, as you are aware, is Wepwawet, and my business is with Ammit alone, not you. I repeat. Let me pass.”

Najja walked around his brother eyeing the intruder openly with distaste. “The dog is disrespectful, brother. I say we make him pay.” He added a rough, snarling bark to emphasize his dislike.

“Umph,” grunted Okpara, agreeing with his brash brother, yet not quite willing to label the dog as inconsequential. Wepwawet was a notorious warrior among gods. It would be stupid to move carelessly, however, he would brook no disrespect, warrior or not. “Watch your tongue dog, or lose it. An eternity in silence would be an eternity in hell, I would think.”

“Obviously you do not think very often, monkey, for an eternity listening to your prattle would be a fate worse than hell.” Wepwawet smirked and watched the baboons flush with rage. It was obvious that they would not consider his request to pass in peace, and he was tired of wasting time here. He had responsibilities to tend and they were piling up while the foul monkey flapped his lips.

As he suspected, the first to attack was the second son, Najja. The boy was easy to goad into action, as well as lacking in brains. Najja came at him in a full frontal lunge, not bothering to protect his belly as he sought to bring his powerful arms down upon his opponent’s head. Wepwawet ducked the doubled fists and slammed the hilt of his weapon hard into the ape’s gut.

The wind left the baboon in a hard, rib-smashing grunt. Wepwawet heard him hit the ground just behind him, but dared not look back. His eyes were focused on the real opponent, Okpara. Where Najja attacked with raging emotion, Okpara would use a combination of strength and intelligence. To ignore that would cost Wepwawet greatly.

He could see the fury in the baboon’s eyes as he ascertained the extent of his brother’s injuries. Okpara’s jaws snapped several times with agitation. Wepwawet was unsure what the elder brother would do, but he was ready for him.

Okpara growled, barked, and gave a false charge, before stopping and dancing around in severe perturbation. “You dog, will be sent home to Osiris with your tail between your legs!”

“Bring it, then. I’ve got things to do,” Wepwawet grinned maliciously.

The baboon howled in rage and came for him. Wepwawet hunkered down for the impact but, at the last minute, the damnable ape rolled to the side, sweeping his arm out and catching the inugod’s feet. Wepwawet hit the hard rock below with a force that knocked the very breath from his immortal lungs. Regrettably, he had no time to regain his senses, but was forced to roll away from the heavy fist coming down over his head.

In a flash Wepwawet was on his knee, pushing off with his leg. Okpara had used the time well by retrieving a brass staff from the wall by his head. Wepwawet rushed at him, bringing down his ax, which the monkey deflected with the staff as it fast approached his throat. The two of them snarled in mutual hatred, then broke apart.

Again Okpara rolled, attempting to slam the staff against the back of Wepwawet’s knees, but the immortal warrior leaped upward and the staff only met empty air with a ‘whoosh.’ Wepwawet came down in time to kick the monkey hard in his exposed ribs, bringing about a yelp of pain.

Score one for the dog.

Wepwawet knew better than to think the battle was at an end, however, and quickly moved back to prepare for the next strike. It came in the form of Najja, whom had awakened in the corner. The baboon landed hard on his back, causing Wepwawet to curse while he tried to shake the leech off. Unfortunately, Najja was holding tight, all the while attempting to take a bite from his neck.

Thankfully, Wepwawet’s armor was designed to foil such an attack, giving him enough time to block another powerful swing of Okpara’s staff. ‘Obviously, these two have never heard of fair fighting!’ Wepwawet growled, before finally managing to grasp a handful of Najja’s mane, which he then used to brutally pull the clinging baboon from his back.

He winced when the fool’s claws gored his sides and back, but found satisfaction when Najja hit the cave wall with enough force to knock him out again.

He barely had a chance to draw in a pained breath before Okpara came at him again. This time the staff was spinning with such force that Wepwawet could feel the wind from the vortex. With the instincts born of an ancient warrior, Wepwawet blocked the deadly thrust with the blade of his ax. The clash of divine metal on metal chimed loud in his ears, but Wepwawet was a dog with the scent for blood. He was determined to bring the baboon down.

“What in hellfire is going on out here?”

The baboon and the dog both froze at the angry question. The two of them looked to the source. Standing within the doorway was Ammit, in human guise. It was obvious that she was angry at the disruption, and eager to determine the cause. When her eyes fell on Wepwawet, she reflected her surprise with the raising of her delicate brows.

She was a beautiful woman, in mortal form. Tall and slender, with long dark hair that swirled around her ankles to the floor. Her skin was bronzed and smooth, stretched taut over high, sharp cheekbones, with a long, narrow nose. Her eyes were black as the darkest night; the only thing that reminded Wepwawet of her true form was the eerie blink of crocodilian lids.

The old saying ‘beauty is only skin deep’ was true in this case, if ever it was true at all. Ammit might look like a magnificently sculpted woman at the moment. In truth, though, she was anything but. Her current form was a farce that hid hideous features; a crocodile head, the upper body of a lion, and the hind end of a hippopotamus. Her true outer form was revolting, but it hardly compared to the wretched soul within. She was a monster, inside and out.

The ‘Eater of the Dead.’ The ‘Devourer’ of souls.

“Ah,” she purred, “the great Wepwawet has come to seek audience. I do wonder what has brought the ‘Opener of the Ways’ to my threshold?”

Warily, Wepwawet withdrew from Okpara, careful to keep one eye on him, yet never removing his eyes from the greatest danger present. “Ammit,” Wepwawet greeted, with a slight bow of his head, acknowledging her strength and power within the realm of gods and demons.

Once he was sure that Okpara was under control, he gave more of his attention to the demoness. “I would ask to speak with you, my lady.” He hated to give her reverence, but, if he wanted the cloth, she was the only way to get it.
Ammit laughed softly and flipped her hand with a careless snap of her tapered wrist. “That is obvious, warrior, unless you simply enjoy frolicking with my guardians.”

Wepwawet felt the blood flush into his face, but gritted his teeth against the insulting remark that sprang to mind. He had to remember to hold his tongue here. It was imperative that he be gracious and polite.

Damn. He hated playing nice.

With a smile that spoke volumes, it was clear that Ammit knew how much it cost him to hold his temper. However, the ruse obviously paid off, for she finally beckoned him inside.

Wepwawet looked around to Okpara and grinned. The monkey looked anything but pleased.

“Until we meet again, dog. And, next time, you will not fare so well.”

Wepwawet openly scoffed, sheathing his weapon. “I will look forward to it, son of Babi.”

He followed Ammit through the gates into her realm. Like walking from a mortal slum into the palace of Osiris, the cave gave way to a magnificent chamber decorated in darkly disturbing glory. Amongst golden idols and caged creatures of every imagining, were magnificent works of art collected from the mortal realm. Each piece was crafted by a master and filled with tragedy and pain. Fallen Christian angels cast into hell mingled with Hindu gods and demons punishing those sent to the regions of ‘Yama.’

Heavy draperies hung over the walls in reds so deep that they resembled sheets of dried blood. Fashionable sofas and prominent chests were scattered among beautifully crafted armoires trimmed with gold. Sculptures of tortured souls watched those present with dead eyes and glorious form, while the queen of her realm looked on. Ammit then sat, draping herself over the cushions with little care for the threat that Wepwawet posed.

“Do be seated,” she chimed, while indicating a high-backed chair with distinct oriental designs on the shallow cushion. Wepwawet had to wonder if her choice was intentional or coincidence. He doubted it was by chance. She probably knew all about Ikris and her plight.

Thankfully, she got straight to the point. “Why are you here, dog-god? I can hardly believe that you merely came for a friendly chat.”

Her voice was deep and sultry, giving his traitorous body a shiver of interest that he easily tossed aside. “I have come to ask for the Shroud of Osiris.”

Her eyes widened, but she quickly hid her surprise with a light chuckle. “Why, that old thing? I can’t imagine why you would be interested in a mere strip of cloth.”

Wepwawet knew that she was playing games with him now. That mere cloth she referred to held a power like no other.

When the god of chaos, Seth, murdered his brother, Osiris, he mutilated the body and scattered the pieces over the land. His goddess wife mourned in despair until she gathered the pieces and pled for the assistance of Anubis in giving Osiris back his immortal life. She carried the pieces, wrapped in this shroud, and lay them before the God of the Dead. Anubis felt pity for the grieving widow and infused the body with life. Osiris drew in the powers of Anubis, while the shroud covering him was doused with the same. When Osiris rose from his deadened state, fully revived and well, the shroud was cast off and forgotten. Ammit was there to claim what had been overlooked, and Osiris never bothered to recover it. He knew of her scavenging, but saw no need to reclaim a mere strip of cloth.

Anubis was the one who told Wepwawet of its powers. He had been aware of the effect his rejuvenation had on the cloth but, like Osiris, he thought it of little consequence at the time. Ammit had no reason to use it for ill purposes, thus, it was safe in her care.

“The cloth is needed to protect a Japanese priestess of power.” He might as well be truthful. Ammit could easily detect a lie. She was, after all, the ‘Eater of Hearts.’

“Ah yes, the little human girl training under the care of your lover.”

Her knowledge stunned him momentarily and he quickly shadowed his emotions so as not to give them away. How did she know of these things? It was unsettling to realize the extent of her powers. He managed to reply, “That is the one,” but gave no further useless information. It was obvious that she already knew everything.

“Tell me, warrior, why should I give the Shroud to you? Surely you do not expect me to hand it over so easily?”

“You have no use for it, Ammit. It has rested here, in your chamber, for a millennium. Your place is secured, why would you need the protection of the cloth?”

“Why I have it is none of your concern, Wepwawet. However, your promise to retrieve it for your lovely mortal is of much concern to me. You have, after all, promised something of mine without seeking permission from me first. Now, I will ask you again, warrior, why should I give it to you? What will you do for me?”

Damn it to hellfire, the beastess was right! He had glibly promised it to Ikris without thought to taking it from Ammit. He had wanted to please his lady so badly that the consequences had seemed few at the time. It was clear, now, that she would not let it go easily, and he dared not attempt to fight her for it. More than likely, he would lose.

As much as he despised making a deal with the demoness, he said, “Fine. What would you have me do for it?”

A pleased smile slithered over her lovely angular features, making Wepwawet instantly regret the agreement.

“You know what I want, warrior. I hunger, yet I am never full. There is only one thing that gives me pleasure and peace.”

His eyes narrowed and he looked away in disgust. He should have known. “Souls.”
“Of course,” she replied with an airy little laugh. “What else? I want the hearts of men, Wepwawet. Hearts of the damned to fill the void of my dark soul. Bring me one hundred hearts of the most evil, vile men on earth. Bring me their desperation and degradation, all within the hours of one mortal day.” She leaned up closer to him, smiling a depraved, wicked smile that gave him chills. Her eagerness was clear to read. “I will have your word.”

Several foul words, in several different languages, crossed his mind as he sat back in the chair. She wanted much in exchange for the cloth. It was not an easy gathering of souls, and would require his most vigilant intent to achieve. Still, it could be done.

“Agreed. You have my word. I will get you the souls.” ‘You wretched monster,’ he silently added.

“Wonderful!” She grinned before blinking those strange reptilian lids. Then she stood up and said, “Follow me.”

Wepwawet followed her lithe, flowing figure through a long hall and into a vast bedchamber. He stopped at the door and surveyed the room. The d?cor here was much the same as it was in the other chamber but, in the center, was a massive bed carved in dark mahogany wood. She went to the bed and snatched up the coverlet, before tossing it to him.

He caught the cloth in his arms, looking down at it in shock, before turning his confused gaze once more to Ammit.

Seeing his confusion she laughed. “Oh yes, that is the Shroud. What can I say? It gets cold in here at night and the cloth makes a nice cover.”

If he weren’t so astounded, he would probably have laughed. She used the Shroud of Osiris as a blanket? That was the importance of the magical cloth to her? Wepwawet shook his head. Leave it to a woman; demoness, human, or goddess, it seemed they were always cold.

“Do not forget, warrior. One hundred hearts to feast upon before tomorrow night.”

Wepwawet sighed his resolve and nodded to the demoness. “You shall have your hearts, Ammit, as I promised you would.”

As he followed her to the large mirror in the front room - the one that would transport him magically to the Hall of Two Truths - he couldn’t help wondering if it was worth it. He then thought of the pleasure the cloth would bring to his lovely Ikris and decided that, yes, it was.