Page 3 of Sett and his King
The bed sank on one side and a piece of paper appeared in front of me.
"Here," Horus said and only then did control return to my body.
I took the piece of paper, sat up, grabbed my trousers and put them back on, stuffing the note into my pocket. I didn't dare glance at him. I didn't want to give him more ammunition today. And any time he couldn't read my thoughts was ammunition. Thankfully I'd managed to tweak my potion enough so that some of my thoughts leaked through to appease him, but he wasn't stupid. He could tell I was doing something to shield my mind from him. And he hated it.
But my mind was the last thing I owned. The only place where I could be free to loathe him. And I'd die before I gave him that.
I put my T-shirt on and snatched my jacket from the armchair beside the door and walked out. It was a short corridor between his bedroom to the living room, and when I passed through the army of men turned to look at me.
Some sat quietly on chairs and sofas, hands tucked between their legs and their gazes focused on their laps, ignoring the drunken laughter permeating the room. Others played cards or backgammon, smoking cigars, nursing glasses of Scotch.
I didn't know how many of them were here out of their own volition and how many were just like me, prisoners of Horus, but I could take a wild guess. The timid ones were awash with fear, a few new faces who hadn't learned to hide their pain yet. The loud ones leered at me as if they wanted their turn with my body, but they could keep on dreaming. If anyone dared touch me, Horus would roast them alive. If I didn't kill them first.
I glared at the ones staring and made my way to the front door, keeping my back straight and my expression steely. Horus might be able to break me down but they wouldn't. Ever.
As soon as I was out on the streets of Chelsea I ran. I ran as far and as fast as I could. Away from Horus and his dominion. It was times like this when I could pretend I was free. But I could only pretend for so long.
When I was far enough, I turned on a side street, walked up to one of the expensive houses I could never afford in a million years and put my key in the keyhole.
Before I could turn it, a woman opened the door and glared at me.
"Who are you? What do you think you're doing?" she screeched, and I couldn’t blame her. Who wouldn’t at a stranger trying to open their door?
"I'm sorry," I mumbled and ran off to her shouting.
The next door I tried was an inconspicuous front garden shed where the residents probably kept their bins locked away until bin collection day.
But I put my skeleton key in, turned it and when I pushed down on the handle it slid open just for me, welcoming me home.
The strain and anxiety coursing through my body dissipated into nothingness as I closed the door behind me and bit my lip to hold myself back from crying.
The little reception room with the collection of family portraits on the walls and its checkered black and white floor shifted, the stairs leading up to the house disappearing, and in its place a door appeared.
"Thank you," I whispered and walked through straight into the bathroom.
My house knew me so well.
It knew I needed to wash up after what I'd just been through. To try to rub his scent off me.
I turned the hot water on and let it wash over me, as if baptizing me anew. I must have baptized myself in this shower a million times over and yet it was never enough. No amount of holy water would be enough to erase him from my body. Only an amnesia potion would help with that and even then it would only take away the memories of him. Not his actual mark on me.
I must have spent a century under the hot water but I felt almost normal when I came out. A stack of fresh clothes was waiting for me on the counter and I got dressed before I came out of the bathroom and into the corridor connecting most of the rooms in the house.
Gene's door was ajar and I approached, leaning against the frame and watching my brother work.
His canvas was as big as the wall, and brushstrokes the size of my body in all shades of purple and pink. Newspaper clippings and gemstones were glued all over creating an electrifying collage I couldn't stop studying.
I watched him apply gold leaf in a part of the canvas and smiled.
He was so talented. So wonderful. So pure. Everything I did was for him. To protect him. But he'd just turned eighteen and Horus was getting greedier. I didn't know how long I'd be able to keep him at bay. And the thought terrified me.
I had to find a way. I had to find a way to pay our debt to Horus and free us from his grasp. I had to find a way to save Gene from being subjected to the god's whims.
"Hey," he said. "I didn't hear you come home."
I opened the door a little more and smiled at my brother.
"Yeah. I jumped straight in the shower. But I'm heading back out soon."
