Twisted Dreams by Felicitas Ivey

Author:Felicitas Ivey [Ivey, Felicitas]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Published: 2015-05-06T16:00:00+00:00

Samojirou

NO MATTER how many times I had told myself I could live with the choices Keno would have made while he was with that sorcerer Kheper, I lost my temper when I heard he was intimate with the man.

The story of Horus and Seth was a myth used as an example of the Egyptians’ supposed distaste for homosexuality, even if that was far from the truth. It was the story of the god Seth, painted as an evil and negative god by the Egyptians for his attempt to have intimate relations with his nephew Horus. Considering how incestuous the Egyptian gods were, I was surprised there weren’t more of these stories—but I digress. Horus proved to be uninterested in his uncle’s advances and went to his mother, Isis, for advice. She suggested some trickery. What it was varies in the different myths, but basically, while Horus played the submissive role with his uncle, he triumphed by stealing some of the man’s power and managed to keep most of his own virtue intact while doing so. Since the Egyptian empire had existed for over three millennia, there were many variations on this story—but none of them painted what happened in a favorable light.

I struck the taller Egyptian with the flat of my blade, stunning him before kicking him aside to land in a heap even as I was sliding the sheath off my katana. His partner seemed stunned at what I had done. I used that to back him against one of the pillars dotting the courtyard with the blade to his throat, pressing it into his flesh so that a trickle of blood started down his neck. The fools hadn’t bothered to disarm us.

“And what else do you have to say about this dæmon?” I demanded, my voice cold and dead. I didn’t sound like myself. Part of me wondered at the calmness of my tone, while I was screaming in fury in my soul that Keno had been unfaithful to me.

He gibbered at me and I was vaguely aware of shouts behind me, just a blur of sound as I stared into the guard’s terrified eyes.

“Samojirou! Aboshi!” Mason was shouting in my ear, grabbing the wrist that held my katana. “Fuck! You! I’m not telling the boss that you got killed! Step the fuck away from him before you become a fucking pin cushion!”

I wondered if it wouldn’t be better if I pressed the blade in harder, to let that happen, when Mason suddenly managed to do something so that my grip weakened and I dropped the katana without injuring the guard further. Mason pushed me to the side and onto the ground, covering my body with his own.

“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!” Mason was shouting over and over.

I was amazed that he had gotten me on the ground. Mason was an indifferent warrior at best, and human. He shouldn’t have had the strength to do what he had, especially not in his condition.

The blur of noise started to separate into languages—Norse, English and Japanese, all being shouted at the top of my party’s lungs.

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