Sole voices

By Kristina M. Serrano

Peace, finally. Or so Selk and Whistler think. Barely after stepping off the plane from a second successful artifact mission, they’re confronted with staggering news. Safi, an acquaintance and descendant of Khonsu, reveals his family has discovered an artifact that he and Selk must return together. And Khonsu, the last living immortal, insists Selk and Safi must be “blended”—married—to return it. Selk racks her brain for loopholes that will keep everyone safe without keeping her and Whistler apart. But Khonsu has other plans, going to violent lengths to forbid their relationship. After entering the most challenging, unpredictable Post World yet, she knows learning Khonsu’s corrupt secrets are the best chance at survival. And this Post World itself is hiding something that will test just how much she loves Whistler. A test she’ll take without hesitation, but one that could finally cost her life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sands Press
• Release date: Sep 30, 2018
• ISBN: 9781988281520

Book preview

far.

Site 1: Snow Hill, Maryland

Chapter 1: My Fiancé

Whistler Aric Casebolt: my love. We'd been together going on two years. Now, today, we walked along the sidewalk, back in my hometown after a second near-death experience. I was a descendant of the Egyptian goddess, Selket, named Selk in her honor. I hadn't known my dad my whole life, then he'd shown up out of nowhere and told me I needed to return an artifact Selket had guarded to her own personal little dimension called Post World. I'd returned it and lost Whistler to the teeth of a fantastical crocodile, then gotten him back again.

We'd had a year and a half together worry free. Then I'd gone back to Post World, a different one this time: Tutankhamen's. The pharaoh, an immortal, my friend. More tricky situations there since the artifact had been blended (guarded by two immortals, both Tut and Selket), but yet another success.

Finally, Post Worlds were behind us. Whistler had just proposed to me for the second time. We were engaged. I smiled up at his profile beside me, messy dirty-blond hair brushing his green eyes. We walked along the sidewalk with our arms around each other like the obnoxiously public couple we were. Nothing would take him from me again.

What wishful thinking.

Something—someone—was about to tear us apart and I didn't even know it. I was about to put up a good fight, one good enough to help me return to Whistler's arms.

But because of that, finally, I would die.

What's he doing here? Whistler murmured.

I don't know, I muttered back. I don't think he heard me.

Safi, Whistler began, I didn't expect to see you in Snow Hill. Safi was an acquaintance we'd made just before going into Tut's Post World. He'd given us some tips since he and his family were descended from Khonsu and were familiar with Post Worlds.

We stopped a few feet away, but still he didn't say anything, just stood there wringing his hands, his dark face paling. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, then opened it, and repeated the process several times.

Is everything okay? I pressed. No, obviously not. What's going on? Something happen with Brandie?

Um... He swallowed hard and cleared his throat. No, Selk. Brandie's still dating my friend, and I've still been casually hanging out with Lynette. Nothing like that. It's...um...

I tensed, afraid of what could have him so upset, but had to ask. Oh no. It's not Khonsu's Post World, is it? Is that it? Did your family forget an artifact and you want my help?

Safi stared at me a long moment, then shook his head and turned around, muttering, I can't tell her. But I have to. Give me the strength.

Whistler stepped forward. Tell her what? Something about Selket's Post World?

My mind wouldn't connect the dots even when Whistler spoke the obvious.

Safi said nothing, just stood there, shoulders sagging, head hanging, muttering to himself. Maybe it was denial clogging my brain, but I was more astonished than I should have been when Whistler spun Safi around and grabbed his shirt in his fists.

Is that what you're trying to say? he pressed, oblivious of the people staring at us as they passed on the sidewalk. You're wrong. This isn't possible. We just returned the last artifact to Tut's Post World. We left our backpacks behind. There is nothing we possibly could have brought out to make us go back into one freaking more.

Safi swallowed hard again. I don't blame you if you punch me. I'd punch me too.

If you don't answer my question I'll do a heck of a lot more than punch you.

Whistler, stop, I said, regaining some kind of sense. This is obviously hard for him, whatever he's trying to say.

Grudgingly, Whistler let Safi go—with a shove.

Now, I know you won't be able to handle everything at once, Safi muttered, smoothing his shirt out.

Whistler still looked like he wanted to punch him, but didn't say anything else.

So whatever your news is involves me, I said. It's okay. It's not your fault.

No, Safi agreed, it's not, but I still feel bad because...because... Because you found out Selk has to go back into Selket's or Tut's Post World? Whistler pressed, glaring.

No, Safi said. Khonsu's.

This was bad.

Khonsu's? Whistler and I repeated in unison.

What the heck? I exclaimed. How? Why?

It's complicated, Safi admitted, but that's not the worst part. I'll...I'll tell you that once you've had time to let this sink in.

No, Whistler snarled, you're going to tell us everything now. If this is Khonsu's Post World, why does Selk have to go?

Safi hesitated like he wanted to turn and run, but finally spoke. Is there a more private place to discuss this? he asked, glancing at the curious onlookers passing by on the sidewalk.

Yeah, I said, looking at Whistler, thinking about where we'd just left. Can we get back into Man Cave? Or do the jerks go in about this time to practice or something?

Most of the jerks just practice at the gym, he clarified. We should be good.

Boxing joint? Safi asked.

More like a lowlife museum, Whistler muttered.

Bile rose in my throat with dread, and yet, I forced myself to remember that I owed Safi. He'd given us a lot of potentially life-saving tips about blended artifacts before we'd entered Tutankhamen's Post World.

But still, I couldn't believe it. Last time we'd had a year and a half before having to go into another Post World; this time, if that's what he was talking about, we wouldn't even have months.

Would the third time really be a charm—or would I live in fear of death my whole life—hopping from Post World to Post World, racing against the clock to return artifacts for no good reason other than not dying?

I took a deep breath. I was getting ahead of myself. Maybe Safi's news wasn't as bad as he was implying.

Maybe it was worse.

Safi shook visibly as we progressed down the sidewalk. Were we all going to die whether or not we returned an artifact this time? He was certainly acting that way, like I'd have to do something even worse than go into another Post World.

No one spoke as we slipped into Man Cave, the wine-bottle chandeliers frightening now instead of romantic like they'd been mere moments earlier.

I leaned against the ring. Whistler looked like he wanted to step back in and pull Safi with him. Irrelevantly, the music had started up again when Whistler flicked on the lights, a cheerful song from the twenties or earlier.

Okay, Safi, spill, he demanded, fists clenching, though he looked a little calmer. What do you know?

Safi took a deep breath. I told you about the blended artifacts, which astonished even me when I first learned about them. Well, now, unfortunately, my family has discovered something worse: triple-blended artifacts.

I arched my brows. "Triple-blended?"

Yeah. I'm sure there's a fancier name, but that's what we call them. Fate is good at giving directions. I tell you that, because what are the odds we'd meet at college? When Whistler and I stared blankly at him, he added, But that's too far ahead. The thing is...the artifact my family discovered was guarded by Khonsu, but also Selket. The last artifact you returned was only double-blended because Tut and Selket were connected by the transfer of immortality. This is triple-blended because, though it has to be returned to Khonsu's Post World, two people have to do it this time: you and me.

I groaned but was slightly relieved. The way he'd been talking, it sounded like all of us would die in five minutes. Okay, so, we both have to return an artifact. That's terrible, but nothing I haven't heard before. Was the blended thing what all the drama was about?

Safi hesitated. Yes and no.

What's that supposed to mean? Whistler pressed, tensing again.

How do I tell them? Safi muttered, then said, I knew you could handle the Post-World part, because that's only temporary. But this time, there's something more, something that will affect the rest of your—our lives.

So if none of us are going to die in ten seconds, what is it? I pressed. Safi took a couple of steps back and glanced at Whistler as if afraid of

getting hit. Khonsu, one. Selket, two. There's the blended artifact. And, in order for it to be returned, its returners have to be blended. Um...married. So that's the triple-blended part.

I gaped at Whistler, then at him. What...the...heck...

I know it doesn't make sense, Safi began, but when have Post Worlds ever had logic?

The rest of our lives, I trailed off, deep in thought, then finally spoke.

But it doesn't have to be the rest of our lives. We can't just, like, get an Elvis impersonator to hitch us, return the artifact, and then get an annulment?

Safi stared at me for a long moment. I stared back, pleading with my eyes. Then, slowly, he shook his head. The artifact will be considered 'stolen' again and we'll just have to keep returning it.

Whistler marched forward and snarled, There is no way in... Whistler, no, I said, putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "It's...

It's okay. We can still be together. Marriage—it's what's in your heart, right? Not a bunch of legal documents."

And yet, my heart still sank. Even though I knew we could get through it, these were two awful obstacles. The traditional part of me still wanted to walk down an aisle to Whistler, maybe even be given away by both Mom and Zahid.

Safi fidgeted awkwardly. That may work, but I'm not sure. My family, they didn't explain all the details, but...

Beside of me, Whistler shook, whether from anger, genuine fear, or both, I couldn't tell. I looked at him, then looked away. In my peripheral vision, I saw him do the same. Then, at the same time, we said:

I'm not losing her.

I'm not losing him.

Guys, Safi began, you know I want to help any way I can, but, right now, I don't see how.

This is a sick joke, Whistler roared, his eyes wild. I'd never seen him look so on the verge of out-of-control before, not even in that brawl with Varley.

The news had had the opposite effect on me. Beyond stunned, I couldn't move at first when Whistler lunged forward and belted Safi.

He was five punches in before I finally managed to grab his shoulders and tug, but there was no stopping him. Safi, I give it to him, got a couple of swings in himself before managing to scurry away and up the spiral staircase, Whistler on his heels.

Whistler, I pleaded, tears welling in my eyes, this isn't helping. But the words were half-hearted. It wasn't Safi's fault, and yet I wanted to join Whistler in punching him, or at least something.

Realizing I was shaking now, I trotted up the stairs behind them slower than I should have. When I reached the top, I saw Whistler had caught up to Safi on the sidewalk and, predictably, was winning.

But I wouldn't punch my fiancé now, not even to break up a fight he'd started. The onlookers and street spun. This wasn't happening. I was having a nightmare. I'd wake up and Whistler and I would be planning our wedding and, just for fun, I'd attempt to be a stereotypical bride by pretending to care what kind of flowers decorated the reception.

Only when Whistler started shouting Let me go! did I snap out of it. Bloody Safi was getting to his knees, and two cops had slammed Whistler onto the hood of their car and handcuffed him.

As I ran over, some middle-aged women—probably some of my mom's students—murmured, Isn't that Cvijeta's daughter?

I thought she was going to school in Tennessee.

"Is that her boyfriend?"

Selk?

Just before reaching the police officers, I glanced over my shoulder at the sound of my name. Cliff. Great. That was all I needed, my jealous ex personal trainer thrilled by the news.

Ignoring him, I turned to the officers. One was new, maybe in training, but the other, I recognized. He was a regular at Mack's Shack and had been waving to Mom and me in passing on the sidewalk since I was a kid.

Officer Lam, I began, please, he's just upset. He didn't mean it. Looks like he meant it to me, the other young officer mumbled. Officer Lam turned around in surprise. Selk? You know this young man?

He's my... I swallowed a lump in my throat. He's my fiancé. We just got some upsetting news. Safi over there is...a college friend. It was kind of a take-it-out-on-the-messenger deal.

Is that true? the young officer asked, jerking his chin at Safi while continuing to pin down the struggling Whistler, who looked on the verge of breaking free.

Yeah, Safi said, wiping blood from his mouth. It's all good. He's just upset like Selk said.

Officer Lam looked at all three of us, considering, then shrugged. Well, as long as the poor punching bag doesn't want to press charges, I guess everything's fine. He took the cuffs off Whistler, then furrowed his brows at me. None of my business, but I hope everything's okay. Must have been some news. You look like you've seen a ghost yourself, darling. Nothing about Cvijeta, I hope?

No, no, I assured him. Mom's fine. Thanks.

Just heard about Mack. It would have been awful if another friendly face suddenly died.

After thanking Officer Lam again, I waited until he and the young cop drove away before apologizing to Safi and facing Whistler.

I'm not sorry, Whistler growled. How I am supposed to stand by and let him...

It's not his fault, I whispered, my voice trembling.

I don't like this either, Safi chimed in. I...I was still hoping to eventually steal Brandie away from my friend.

Now, I wanted to scream. He didn't love Brandie; he thought she was hot and looked like fun. Whistler—Whistler was mine. My gorgeous, sweet, tough, spontaneous, carefree soulmate. One time, all I'd had to remember him by was his driver's license and hoodie. I refused to go back to that place. I'd find a way around this. I had to. Just the thought of being unable to see that dry smile and flop of hair above his eyes stunned me like a jellyfish sting to the lung.

What's going on, guys? Cliff asked. This was the first time I'd seen him since the airport.

I don't want to talk about it, I replied automatically. And yet, I knew I had to.

Turning to Safi, I asked, How long do we have?

As soon as possible would be best, Safi admitted, but at the most, I'd say a few weeks.

Weeks? I whimpered. How long have you known about this?

Since yesterday, he said, his bruises swelling and changing colors like lava in a lamp.

Cliff walked up to me and asked, his voice low, Is this something to do with another Post World?

It's none of your business, Cliff, Whistler snarled, shoving him. Reflexively, Cliff shoved him back.

Stop, I said, grabbing Whistler's hand when he lunged again. Picking fights won't do any good.

His breaths shaky, he wrapped an arm tightly around me as if I were in danger of falling through the ground at any second. I'd never seen him like this before.

But the scariest thing was that I empathized.

Things will be clearer after we talk to my family, Safi said. They live in Tennessee, in the next town over from the university. They'll tell us what the first step is.

I know what the first step is, Whistler said, still in obvious denial, and it's not going to happen.

I'm doubtful, Safi admitted helplessly, "but we can have a long talk with