Anamnesis by Susana Imaginário

Author:Susana Imaginário
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Susana Imaginário
Published: 2022-06-05T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

The Goddess and the Jackal

Psyche holds me back as we’re about to enter my cave. “Wait. There’s someone in there,” she says.

“I can’t sense anyone.”

“Hush. Trust me.” She motions me to stay put. “I’ll handle this.”

I know she’s a goddess, and it’s all well and good that she’s finally grown into her divinity, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to be treated like a helpless nymph. She takes two steps forward, I take one, and we end up pressed side by side in the narrow opening. She spares me an exasperated glare before addressing the walls as if they were a crowd.

“You can hide your light, but you can’t hide your soul!”

I’m beginning to question her senses when a god steps out from the gap between worlds, manifesting himself just a few strides away. He’s short for a deity, with a crest of black hair standing on end atop his head as if to make up for his lack of stature. He has long vulpine ears and a muzzle for a face, different-coloured eyes, dark bronze skin similar to Seshat’s, and he wears a golden cloth wrapped around his slim waist like a skirt.

I have never seen the like.

Psyche’s eyebrows rise a fraction. “Anubis,” she says with the confidence of a goddess. “I see the statues to your honour did not do you justice.”

I frown. Is she flirting with this scrawny dog?

The god’s ears flicker at her. Our scrutiny, and I suspect the fact Psyche was not only able to recognise him but was not caught off guard by his presence or appearance, unnerves the god, but he does his best not to let it show. “You recognised me from a statue?”

“Yes. My father accepted one as levy once; the poor merchant had nothing else of worth. He kept it in his waiting room to discombobulate petitioners and scare the children. Had you chosen a different aspect, I probably wouldn’t have recognised you. You have quite the unusual soul for a god of the Underworld.”

“Do I?” His snout twitches – a canine version of a cryptic and insincere smile. “Well, if you know who I am, goddess of the soul, and what I am, then you know I’m also a connoisseur of souls.”

“So I gather,” Psyche replies cautiously.

Anubis crosses his hands behind his back and straightens himself, as if proud and at ease, but his emotions betray him. He reminds me of a cat negotiating a puddle. “I’m able to measure the soul of every god and mortal, except mine. I always wondered what it looked like, though. Do you mind describing it to me?”

“A blinding light mixed with gloom, like most of your kind. A brutal mix in your case, full of angles, not swirls. It lacks harmony,” is Psyche’s prompt reply. Unlike him, she makes no effort to hide her annoyance.

“Makes sense,” he says to himself, then turns his ears forward suddenly, like a dog who’s just heard his master’s call. “I am delighted to finally make your acquaintance, Psyche.

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