Chapter Text
Marc wakes up with a jolt, sweat pouring down the sides of his face.
His last dream was full of gnashing teeth, razor sharp claws and the sounds of human flesh being ripped apart. The images still raw in his mind, he clutches one hand to his chest. I’m safe. I’m in our bed, in our flat. I am no longer a puppet of Khonshu. I am in control. Breathe, Marc, breathe. He plays the mantra over and over again in his head, just like how Steven taught him to. The Brit was the certified expert on sleep deprivation and Marc and Jake would regularly seek out their soothing words and comforting touches whenever one of them struggled with nightmares.
Breathing now under control, he notices he’s no longer a bloodied mess and wearing fresh, clean clothes in their bed. There’s a faint antiseptic smell on his shirt but it’s far better than the strong copper one from last night.
Gus 2.0 is swimming lazily about in his tank, the tank’s filter a dull hum in the background. One of the windows sits slightly ajar allowing in a light autumn breeze as well as the hustle and bustle of busy Londoners on the street below. Steven’s books are messily strewn all over the floor by the bed leaving a trail to their living room and– oh, well, that’s new.
There’s a giant jackal-headed man sitting on the one rather shabby, (and slightly chewed upon thanks to a certain naughty puppy) sofa in their living room, sipping on what looks to be one of the china cups from Steven’s favourite tea set. Their other large hand (or paw? Marc can’t quite tell) completely covers something to their left side on the sofa, stroking it gently with a large thumb. The god’s sheer size dwarfs the cramped space, taking up almost the entire sofa and Marc is impressed it hasn’t managed to fall through the flimsy wooden flooring yet.
Tall, erect ears swivel independently just below the loft’s low ceiling as the god brings the tiny cup to their elongated snout and daintily takes a sip from it; a low rumble of satisfaction leaving their chest.
It all feels rather domestic, Marc thinks.
He blinks a few times before pinching his arm just to make sure he’s not still stuck in some bizarre dream or somehow managed to tuck himself away in their headspace - something he hasn’t been able to do now that they have separate bodies.
“Ah,” he says out loud to himself, drawing the only logical conclusion, “I’m dead.” Although no field of reeds this time, huh? Interesting. Guess that was a once off. He shrugs, shaking off the duvet.
He raises his arms to stretch and immediately winces from the sharp pain shooting from his ribs all the way up to his right shoulder. He gingerly places a hand underneath his shirt to feel the layers of bandages wrapped securely around his torso and extending to his injured shoulder.
“Afraid not,” a deep baritone voice echoes from their living room.
The god’s dark fur shines bright and glossy under the rays of morning sun. A wide, golden collar wraps around their neck whilst golden anklets and bracelets decorate their muscular arms and slender legs and a shendyt made of the finest looking material modestly covers their waist. Several golden hoop earrings tinkle softly every time the god’s impressively large ears move on their own.
Marc realises he’s been staring a little too long and feels a wave of embarrassment when the god’s golden-lined, glowing yellow eyes catch his own. They continue to take quiet sips from their cup with one clawed pinkie finger sticking out.
The American quickly averts his gaze to their kitchen where he finds his alter standing in the corner looking far too guilty with his hands stuffed in his pockets. For a split second, Marc thinks this has to be Steven because no way does Jake ever act this anxious, not even when Khonshu abandoned him. Now, his whole body flinches under Marc’s hardened stare and he sends the American the most pitiful of looks.
“That does it, I need a drink,” Marc grumbles, giving his temples a quick massage.
Jake’s eyes frantically widen as he watches his alter attempt to get out of bed, only to end up clutching their side in pain, falling back on the mattress.
“Shit,” Marc hisses through his teeth. Maybe he did crack a few ribs last night after all. Jake curses and rushes immediately to his side, standing nervously over him like a worried parent.
“Whoa whoa, slow down hermano!” He tries to force Marc back into bed, even putting the back of his hand against his forehead to check if he’s still sporting a fever, but the severe glare Marc gives him forces him to pull back. Jake sighs. Stubborn ass.
To be honest, he’d probably be acting the fool too. He’d been there before; injured after a mission, Khonshu too petty and vindictive to heal him properly due to a stupid mistake, doing his best to ignore Steven’s increasingly worried face as he fussed over his wounds while Marc scolded him for being too reckless.
He puts an arm out as a peace offering hoping it’s enough. Marc rolls his eyes but accepts, sliding his own arm to meet Jake’s and using him as a support to get out of bed and stand up.
Jake tries to snake an arm around his waist in order to let Marc lean his weight on him but Marc swats his arm away. Damn stubborn mercenaries, Jake curses under his breath. So he ends up staying a few steps behind just in case his alter ends up falling back onto his ass as Marc hobbles over to their kitchen.
Marc clicks his tongue loudly at Jake's needless hovering. He’s not a damn child! Besides, if he’s to deal with any of the batshit craziness right now he needs a damn drink first! Preferably, something stronger than tea or water. His eyes spot the pot of coffee on the kitchen counter top.
“You gotta hydrate first querido. You lost a LOT of blood last night. It’s kinda a miracle you’re holding up right now.”
Marc grunts and takes out a small mug from one of the cupboards that says ‘I Love My Dog!’ he got as a courtesy gift from the pet store. He fills it with water from the tap and instantly chugs it down in big gulps. Once he’s finished, he side-eyes Jake.
“Satisfied?”
Jake bites his lip uncomfortably and if Marc wasn’t feeling so groggy and sore all over he’d probably be laughing.
“You- you should drink more…”
“You the expert on my body all of a sudden?” Marc huffs in annoyance. Which, to be fair, is a pretty stupid thing for him to say since they did share a body for the longest time. Whatever, he’ll blame it on the blood loss.
Jake stays silent, worry etched across his face. It’s almost amusing to see him act like this and the complete opposite to his usual cocky and confident self.
Marc yields and fills the mug again with water, this time drinking it down at a normal pace. With his alter seemingly pacified, he starts to prepare his morning coffee.
“You should eat something too, Marquito.” Jake’s words are far too soft and unnatural sounding compared to Steven’s. Marc just shakes his head. He’s not in the mood to eat even if his blood sugar levels are probably extremely low right now.
“Later. There’s bigger things.” Like the giant dog/man sitting on their sofa.
“You wanna explain that one to me first?” he says, gesturing over to where said dog/man sits perfectly calm, eyeing the plate of chocolate biscuits on the table in front of them.
Jake looks sheepishly at Marc and begins to rub the back of his neck. “You passed out last night and I carried you both back. The minute I set Steven down on the floor and went to try and stop you from bleeding out, he was gone. I panicked but you were losing so much blood and I- I couldn’t lose you both in one night.” His voice wavers at the end and Marc’s eyes soften. He can’t imagine what it must have been like for the man, almost losing both of his alters in one night.
Feeling a little more remorseful, he extends his good arm out to Jake’s shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze.
“Hey. Hey Jake, listen to me. It’s okay. If you don’t wanna retell everything right now I understand,” he comforts him with a small smile before the sides of his mouth start to falter.
Memories of last night begin to flash in his mind once again, including the one of Steven’s broken twisted body on the ground and Marc suddenly feels the need to throw up, reaching for the countertop to stabilise himself.
Jake catches him instead and holds him tightly, letting Marc cling to him. Marc squeezes his eyes shut, desperately trying to expel the awful images now permanently scarred in his brain while the Latino starts rubbing soothing circles on his back the way Steven used to do for them.
“Shh, shh. It’s okay. It’ll be okay, Marquito,” he says reassuringly, and moves one hand to caress the back of his neck. It’s the closest Marc has been to the Latino and he clings a little tighter, trying to hold back the little sobs escaping from the back of his throat.
“After I cleaned you up a bit, I began to search for Steven everywhere,” Jake continues. “I didn’t wanna leave you but I knew you’d never forgive me if I didn’t try. But then all the electricity went off and it got very cold super quickly. The walls and floors started shaking and I thought we were having an earthquake so I ran to protect you. Then- then he appeared.” Jake lowers his voice into a barely audible whisper, turning both their heads to the guest sitting in their living room.
“I’m pretty sure el chacal is Anubis so be careful what you say in front of them. Scared me half to death this morning. Told me to continue treating you and that he’d wait here until you were awake. So I left him there. Hasn’t said a single word for hours, until you woke up. Era muy espeluznante,” he shudders under Anubis’ unflinching gaze.
Marc rolls his eyes and loosens himself from Jake’s grasp. Great, just what he needs. Another god sent to mess with their lives. Hold on…
“Wait, so where is Steven?”
Jake fidgets with his tie as he sheepishly points to Anubis placing the cup down on the table in favour of the plate of biscuits, tipping the whole thing into his maw and devouring them within seconds. A long, thick, pink tongue licks the remaining crumbs from his mouth and also wets his nose. The two men stare speechless, neither had ever ever seen Khonsu eat, drink or even sleep in all their years being his avatar. Jake silently prays the biscuits are enough to satisfy the deity’s appetite.
Marc puts down his mug, ignoring his alter’s desperate pleas over his injuries, and hobbles over to the living room as fast he can.
He stands opposite the ancient being once revered through all of Egypt, his mouth a tight line as Jake watches nervously with baited breath.
The god’s bright, illustrious eyes peer into Marc’s dark brown ones.
Now that he’s close, Marc can smell the mixture of incense, embalming oils and even the slight scent of rotting flesh exuding from the god. Even the house plants sitting at the nearby window have started to droop from the pungent aroma.
He feels the temperature in the flat suddenly plummet even though the window is not open that wide and he tries to suppress a shiver, muscles growing tense.
“I can hear your elevated heart rate and smell your fear, Marc Spector. You needn’t be alarmed.” Anubis’ deep, resonating voice seeps into Marc’s ears like liquid velvet.
“Anubis,” Marc grits his teeth, “how insightful of you to notice.” He gets straight to the point. “Where is he?”
Anubis, unphased at the standoffish remark, continues to observe Marc closely as if those eyes are diving deep into his very soul. Marc imagines he’s being judged on whether or not he and Jake are worthy to protect Steven and all things considered, the god would be well within their right to take him away. That doesn’t mean Marc won’t go down without a fight, god’s be damned, no one is taking Steven away from him again.
Anubis leans back on their sofa, cocking their large head to the side and reminding Marc very much of the German Shepherd he had growing up, only a hundred times the size and considerably more intimidating. Finally, after a good five minutes of staring each other down (and Marc freezing his ass off), the god relents and lifts a large, clawed hand away from the small bundle of fur lying on top of a cushion underneath.
The little pup shivers from the sudden loss of warmth and whines and Marc’s eyes almost bulge out of his skull.
“Be gentle, he’s extremely tired,”
Marc doesn’t hesitate and rushes to pick Steven up, ignoring the pain from his injuries in favour of cradling him as close to his chest as possible. “You- you’re alive?!”
Steven responds by weakly wagging his tail, eyes half open and head lolled to the side. He gives a tiny lick to one of Marc's hands and the man’s heart almost explodes, holding him tighter.
He can’t believe it. Steven is alive! And warm and his heart is beating! Not only that but there isn’t a single mark or scratch on him anywhere!
He looks at the god sitting there in silence, eyes twinkling as they watch the reunion, before returning his attention to the tiny pup in his arms. Steven looks thoroughly exhausted and Marc suddenly feels guilty for waking him up. Carefully, he places him back down on the cushion and turns to limp his way over to one of the arm chairs opposite to sit.
Steven, half-dazed, clumsily jumps off the sofa and follows him, pawing at his leg when Marc manages to get himself seated. Marc’s eyebrows shoot up and he gives Anubis a quizzical look. The god says nothing but their lips curl slightly at the ends.
“Come here you.” Marc tuts, about to bend down and potentially fuck up his injuries further but Jake is already one step ahead, scooping Steven up and dropping him in his lap, muttering something about “overdoing it”. The Latino then stands next to them, leaning his weight against the chair.
The cold chill in the flat begins to dissipate and Steven snuggles into Marc’s chest affectionately. The American stares transfixed at his snuggly little alter. Just last night, Steven was chilled to the bone, bloody and wet. And now he’s clean and safe and so delightfully warm against him. He strokes the super soft fur he’s missed so much, still lost for words.
“How… how is this all possible?” He says quietly to the room, swallowing the small lump that formed in his throat.
Jake looks fondly over at Steven and gives him a few good scratches behind his ear. “Well, you were pretty banged up. It took a while to treat the stab wound on your shoulder. I was amazed you even–”
“No,” Marc cuts him off. He doesn’t mean to be rude but right now he couldn’t give two shits about how his body has been treated. He’s patched himself up in the past enough times to know the routine. His mind goes back to last night; to the bloodshed, to being kidnapped and tortured by a crazy gang leader, to being rescued, to Steven.
“Oh…” Jake says, trying to hide the small disappointment in his voice. “You mean pequeño. I think it’s best they answer that,” he flashes Anubis a quick look. “Also, you might wanna give Layla a call later. She left a ton of messages for you and almost threatened to drown me personally in the Red Sea if I didn’t tell you to call her when you woke up.” He gives Marc a small smile and pats him on the shoulder.
Marc turns his face to look closely at the Latino’s: the man barely has a scratch on him although the dark shadows under his eyes reveal the tell-tale signs of no sleep. At least the suit managed to patch any harm on his body. Layla would have been the same had she been there. Only he and Steven were completely at risk last night.
He looks down at the pup sleeping peacefully in his lap, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. Tears begin to drip down onto the pup’s fur, wetting it and Marc raises his good arm to wipe it against his eyes. He should be embarrassed right now but he doesn’t care.
“I know what I saw last night,” he says between shaky breaths. “What we saw. Steven… Steven died last night. So how is it he… how’s he alive?”
Jake sighs and he sounds so tired, the usual fire in his eyes diminished. “I don’t know,” he shrugs. “All I can say is Anubis must have taken him when I was busy dealing with your injuries. When he reappeared in the middle of the flat this morning I freaked out and prepared to fight until I saw who he was carrying.”
The merc narrows his eyes at the guest sitting opposite. “What did you do to Steven?” There’s a barely veiled hint of threat in his voice. “If you hurt him…”
The god’s eyes flash neon bright, their massive form rustling against the too small, squeaky sofa. “Is this the gratitude I get for saving you all last night?” Their tone remains impassive.
Marc snarls, desperate to lash out, injuries be damned. But a part of him knows deep down the god speaks the truth. The fact that they’re all here in their home, alive and with only one of them moderately injured is nothing short of a miracle. Anubis’ powers definitely aided them last night. And he saved Steven, although for what reason Marc doesn’t know so he remains cautious, refusing to apologise for the rude slip.
“Forgive him,” Jake intervenes, desperate to try and dispel the tense atmosphere and earning another sharp glare from his alter. “He’s been through a lot.” Doesn’t he realise I’m trying to save his stubborn ass from the wrath of a god?
“Do not be alarmed Marc Spector,” the god replies, a slight tease in their voice. “I can smell it on both of you, you know? Your strong desire to protect Steven and the considerable lengths the two of you will go for him. The sacrifices you have already made. Many of which have ended up in my realm. But know this: I only have the best of intentions for Steven Grant.”
Marc still seems doubtful but the god waves a large clawed hand. “Enough reminiscing about the past. I believe you have something that belongs to me.”
Jake pushes away from the chair and walks up to the bookshelf. He runs his hand along the spines until he spies a particularly heavy looking book and pushes it to one side; there, nestled just behind, sits the tupperware containing the golden treasure box.
He brings it back and deposits it carefully on the table in front of Anubis who makes quick work of emptying the tupperwares’ contents onto one of his oversized furry palms.
They hold the treasure box up to the light, letting the surfaces shine a brilliant gold. Marc and Jake watch with trepidation, each holding in a breath. Neither have dared to mess with the box since Layla had a chance to look at it, too afraid it could cause further chaos.
“Breathe you two. The stench of your fear is somewhat distracting,” Anubis mildly advises them (and Marc feels his blood pressure begin to rise). They let out the air trapped in their lungs, eyes fixated on the tiny golden box that holds the key to Steven’s fate.
“Hmm,” the god muses, turning the box with their sharp claws to examine the carved symbols. “Ah, yes I do vaguely remember this one. From many millennia ago. Someone must have broken into one of my sacred temples and desecrated it. No doubt they stole this in an attempt to sell it,” he sighs. “A wasted effort on their behalf.”
“If I recall, this treasure box was intended as an anniversary gift for my beloved Anput. She and I had already been together for several thousand years but occasionally we would present each other with offerings and gifts to celebrate our sacred union. It has been some time since I’ve seen this. She usually kept all personal items of hers well guarded. But mankind’s greed knows no bounds I suppose nor the significance of the ancient artefacts they covet,” they say coolly. “What are mere trinkets to you and your kind are worth more than the weight of all your souls combined.”
“You see these markings?” He points to the inscribed symbols and Marc and Jake nod. “These were written in ancient speech long before the creation of man although there is some semblance to the hieroglyphs you are familiar with. They were put there as a warning so that others would not be tempted to open it and peruse what’s inside. Only someone with my divine blessing would be able to do so.”
He twirls the box in his hand causing Marc and Jake to grip the chair a little tightly, hearts beating fast at the idle display. “If there is one thing I cannot stand, aside from those who try to cheat death, it is thieves,” they say bitterly. “However, I created this out of respect for the one I love. There was no malicious intention behind it, I promise.”
Jake rolls his eyes. Bit late for that, he thinks back to all those body parts strewn across the floor.
Anubis’ yellow orbs peer down at Steven and Marc shifts uncomfortably in his chair, hand gripping a little tighter on the soft tufts of fur.
“And when human hands managed to get a hold of it,” the god shakes his large head “I admit, I did not foresee the outcome. It… disheartens me to know how many lives were lost. Nor did I imagine there to be any side effects. The magic on the seal is stronger than I thought.” He points a clawed finger at Steven.
“One might call it miraculous, rather than annihilating Steven, it transformed him into the form I treasure the most - canis lupus; loyal protector and lifelong companion of mankind. My intuition tells me that because Steven Grant is pure of heart and unlike the previous men, who only sought to use it for power and wealth, Steven only wanted to satisfy his unyielding thirst for knowledge. His role as caretaker and protector of the two of you, traits both befitting of a dog, were likely the final catalysts in his transformation.”
Marc lifts his hand off Steven to pinch the bridge of his nose, desperately trying to comprehend everything he’s just heard. “So… is he like your avatar now or something?”
Anubis scratches under his chin with long, sharp claws. “I haven’t transferred any of my powers into Steven except for last night during your daring rescue, but that was by choice.”
“But, he wont stay like this forever right?” Marc says, desperation rising. “You can change him back can’t you? It’s your curse after all!”
“It is not a curse, Marc Spector. Consider it a divine blessing. For only those with the ability to see, hear and smell like I can, can experience the world as I have always envisioned.”
“A blessing?!” Marc scoffs. “Look, I get it. You like dogs, hey I’m a big fan. But the average dog doesn’t live anywhere near as long as the average human! And Steven already had a life and memories as a person. You can’t just take that away from him!”
Anubis quirks an eyebrow. “If I'm correct, Steven once was a separate entity created by you? Wasn’t the majority of his life a fabrication of events that you thrust upon him?”
Marc splutters, red-faced. “That- that was before. And even then, I tried not to get him involved in any part of my life. I always wanted him to have his own. I never wanted him to be thrown in with my own demons…” with me, he wants to say. “I knew things wouldn’t be able to last like that forever, that one day one of us would screw up and it would likely be me. But it doesn’t matter anymore because now he’s his own person and he deserves a chance at a better life and to make his own choices. And was doing just that! And we were happy and- and you took that away from us! From him!”
“Careful, mortal.” Anubis growls, lips slightly bared to display massive fangs. “Benevolent as I may be, I tend not to take lightly to such insolence.”
“Fuck, I don’t care!” Marc lashes out at the god. “I don’t care about what you or Khonshu or any of you damn gods have to say! None of you ever really gave a shit about me or Steven or Jake, except Taweret. You just used us as you saw fit and Steven and I helped save you all from Ammit. So you owe us! You owe him!”
Sweat begins to dampen Jake’s hair under his hat. Fucking hell Marc! Anubis is going to smite him then and there he just knows it! He quickly summons the suit and steps in front of his alters into a protective stance, waiting for the second the god decides to pounce on them. What he doesn’t expect is the deep, bark-like laugh that’s loud enough to shake the walls of their flat and likely to disturb the whole building coming from the god.
“Oh, you are very disrespectful and stubborn. And passionate! I can see why Khonshu chose you,” they continue to chuckle heartily and Jake and Marc stare at each other in confusion. Wiping a golden tear from their eyes with one claw, Anubis smirks at them. “You remind me of someone… an old avatar of his from many, many moons ago. They were fiercely protective of their loved ones too, and they had a good heart. I recall giving them a better alternative to the deal they had with Khonshu.”
Jake breathes a sigh of relief and lets the suit melt away from his body. He will need several packs of cigarettes after this and a week of uninterrupted sleep.
“But you can undo it though, can’t you?” Marc pleads. “You’re the god of the afterlife!”
The jackal-headed god clears his throat. “That is officially my father’s title now. I help with guarding the Duat and guiding the lost souls to be judged. Ever since Ammit’s little fiasco topside, my work has been more than cut out for me and Taweret. She was… most insistent that I help you on this matter.”
They clap both hands together, creating a loud “boom!” that echoes across the flat and causes Steven to stir in Marc’s lap. “I can see this was not an act of fate but an unfortunate accident which I assume full responsibility for. It will not be easy, but I will try to reverse what’s been done. It is clear to me that Steven’s human soul is intertwined with his canine one and the longer he remains in this form the more dominant his canine traits will become.”
“What about his memories?
“His human memories are still intact. I can sense them. But I'm afraid they’re starting to become dormant. A dog’s intelligence is a remarkable thing but I admit, compared to the multifaceted workings of the human mind it is but a drop in the ocean. They rely on their keen senses and instincts, honed by thousands of years of evolution. His duty is to fervently protect the two of you and remain by your side as your loyal companion. Those feelings are so deeply ingrained just as they were in his ancestors, the first domesticated dogs. I believe there is little else Steven Grant currently thinks about. And it is why his human memories and behaviours are being pushed to the side.”
“He’ll get them back though won’t he?” Marc doesn't want Steven to lose all the memories he built of their time together: meeting him and Khonshu (and eventually Jake), becoming Mr. Knight, their run-in with Harrow and building a life afterwards all together. What if it ends up just like before? As though Marc and Jake never existed, their lives completely separate. No more clever retorts. No more sound of Steven’s bright laughter filling the air of their cosy flat or his warm touch and kind eyes when he begged Marc to get some rest despite the man staying up all hours of the night himself. Marc can’t stand the thought of it.
Anubis’ jaw tenses. “This kind of separation is not something I have ever done before. Whilst Osiris managed to separate you into three separate bodies each with your own soul, you are all originally from the same human body. Animals and mankind have very different emotions and needs.”
“Humans are at a liberty to make decisions for themselves; many creatures do not have such luxury and require humans to be their caretakers or protectors, a rich irony considering the lengths humans will go to destroy the natural world. Your kind causes countless species to go extinct everyday and are on the verge of their own extinction right now yet do little to try and amend it.” Heavy are the weight of Anubis’ words and Marc and Jake find themselves nodding numbly in agreement.
“As he is right now, trying to separate Steven’s souls could cause great stress on his body, possibly destroying in the process. The risk is too great.”
Marc doesn’t say anything but looks down despondently at the tiny warm bundle in his lap.
Anubis crosses one leg over the other and places a hand under his chin. “Hmmm…” He sits there contemplating for several minutes as the other two sit in silence, alternating between petting Steven and listening to his tiny snores. Finally, the jackal god snaps his head in Jake’s direction and the Latino finds himself going rigid under the god’s intense gaze. “Perhaps…”
“What? What is it?” Jake asks, nervous.
“The knowledge I am about to impart to both of you is unknown to most humans and I trust it shall be kept that way.” Marc and Jake nod in unison. “Very well: the most powerful time of year for any canine is when Sirius, the Dog Star, shines brightest in the sky. It heightens their senses and grants them the inner strength and prowess of their Lupin ancestors. They’re essentially granted a boon during this period of time. If we were to try the ritual then, perhaps…”
“It would be easier to separate them!” Marc finishes.
The god nods curtly. “During that time, the presence of Steven's dog soul would be much stronger than his human one and the chance for me to seperate them without damaging Steven's body in the process would be greater… in theory, of course.”
“So we just need to wait for Sirius to shine its brightest? When’s that?” Jake asks.
“…in February.”
“February?!” Marc stutters. “But that’s, fuck, that’s six months from now!”
“Indeed it is, and as I said before: the longer he is in this form the more difficult it will be to try and split the two souls at a later date,” he pauses, “I do not think it will even be feasible anymore if we wait that long.”
Marc falls further back into his chair, the hand resting on Steven (oblivious to everything going on right now) cradling him close to his chest.
Jake has been unusually quiet, lost in thought until his face lights up.
“But Khonshu can move the night sky right? Like he did that time in Cairo when we were locating Ammit’s tomb? So all he has to do is rearrange the stars so that Sirius is shining its brightest.”
“Jake Lockley,” the jackal-headed god examines him with great interest, unnerving the Latino to his core.
“You are his current avatar, correct? Then it is up to you to try and convince him.” They sigh, exasperated. “I haven’t spoken to Khonshu in over a milenia and suffice to say I feel he harbours a lot of resentment towards me. I harbour no ill will toward him, naturally. Taweret even tells me that the Ennead has been seeking his counsel these days. Considering their difficult history, I am truly amazed he even agreed.”
“But I digress; it will require seven sunrises, seven sunsets and seven nights to complete the proper ceremonial traditions for the ritual. It will take place in one of my sacred temples, in a realm between life and death. Normally, no human alive would be allowed to tread those grounds but I can make an exception.”
Jake counts off on his fingers. “So… we wait twenty-one days?”
“No you idiot, he means seven!”
Jake scowls at Marc while Anubis chooses to ignore their squabble.
“Yes, only on the seventh evening and when Sirius is at its peak in the night sky, will we be able to proceed. If we are to do this correctly and be successful then we only have one chance.”
Marc nods. A week is better than waiting six months and after everything that’s already happened, it should be a walk in the park.
Anubis turns to Jake. “You should come with me. I need to go to one of my temples in this dimension to start preparations. There are still many of my worshippers in this realm including those who practise the old traditions. I can even ask my most reverent followers to aid you in your search to find Khonshu. I would suggest going to his temple first. Even though he has tried to sever your connection, you are still his avatar so you should still feel a pull when he is near.”
“Wait, so what do I do?” Marc asks, a little irritated at being ignored.
“You have the most important job of all, Marc Spector. That of being Steven Grant’s protector. Take care of him. His body has gone through tremendous stress,” they pause, “you should also try to get his human side to come out so it doesn’t stay dormant.”
“I'm not going to put him through anything traumatic,” Marc says firmly.
“There are other ways to lure the subconscious mind. Reenactment and sharing previous memories can be a good start.”
“We tried to show him a bunch of his old stuff but he wasn’t that interested. But… I guess I could try giving it another shot, show him some more of Steven's favourite things. If they’re safe for his current body.”
“Good,” Anubis nods at him. “Then we are in agreement. I wish you all the luck, Marc Spector.” His eyes drop to Steven sleeping in his lap. “May I?”
Marc’s raises an eyebrow. “You need him?”
“If you don’t mind. I have a final gift to bestow upon him before we part.”
Marc gently shakes Steven's body causing them to twitch in their sleep. “Steven, buddy? Can you wake up just for a bit?” Steven reluctantly opens his sleepy eyes and yawns cutely before giving Marc a small lick on his knee. Marc picks him up from his lap and hands him to Jake who places him down on the floor.
Anubis now stands in their small flat, bending their head down so as not to hit their ceiling and still managing to look very refined. Steven stares up at the giant jackal god before them but instead of cowering away like Marc and Jake thought he would, he goes up to their enormous feet, barely making it to their ankle and gives them a tentative sniff. Once he’s satisfied, he wags his tail in excitement and barks.
Anubis chuckles. “I am glad to see you are feeling better, little one. I know you must still be tired but this will help.” They bend down on one knee in front of the tiny pup. Then, they lower a large palm to the floor letting Steven hop onto it before gently raising it until Steven is eye level with the god. Warm, chocolate eyes stare into dazzling yellow ones.
“Take care Steven Grant, it might not be much but as of right now you are under my divine protection and have my blessing. I will see to it that no further harm comes before you in this form.”
Anubis then touches Steven's nose with his long snout and whispers something in an ancient tongue that sounds like a cross between a deep growl and human speech.
A bright, golden light begins to envelop Steven, several beams shooting out in different directions, turning the flat into a holy light show. The light then begins to recede until it forms a line around Steven’s neck and each of his legs. Bracelets of gold materialise above Steven’s four paws and the blue leather collar transforms into gold, the bones that used to decorate it now replaced with glinting hieroglyphics. Instead of a name tag, the collar has a single lapis lazuli stone in the centre. It looks very elegant and regal, befitting of a god more than a little dog.
The light begins to fade and Marc and Jake stare gobsmacked. Anubis lowers his hand down slowly to place Steven back on the floor; Steven's new collar and bracelets a beacon of shining light in the living room.
“You couldn’t have gone for anything a little more subtle?” Marc sighs, shaking his head in disbelief.
“I think he likes it, besides, ‘dog’ spelled backwards is ‘god’” Anubis chuckles (and Marc can’t really argue with that) and Steven responds by zooming around the god's feet with sudden masses of energy. The bright spark in his eyes now returned, the pup runs over to Jake and jumps onto his hind legs to show off his new accessories.
“Lookin’ good Stevie!” the man says, bending down to ruffle his fur. Steven then trots over to Marc and circles on the spot.
“Arf, arf arf!”
“You do look good Steven, very fancy.” Marc’s eyes crinkle at the edges as he smiles down at his beloved little alter.
Anubis turns to Jake. “We should depart.” He manifests a Was-sceptre and taps it on the ground as sand starts to swirl in their living room by his feet. Jake hestitanly makes his way over to the god’s side, flinching just a little as Anubis clasps one large hand over his shoulder. “Until we meet again, Marc, Steven,” he addresses the dog and man opposite.
The sand and wind whirls around in a mini twister, causing more books to go flying off the shelves and there’s the sound of nearby dogs howling.
Steven throws his head back to join with the chorus, his higher pitched howls bouncing off the walls in their flat. The whole damn building is gonna think they’re hiding a pack of dogs at this rate, Marc groans. Dogs from everywhere on the street join in, setting off a chain of howls, barks and yaps across half of London, leaving a lot of owners very crossed and confused at the sudden display.
And just like that Anubis and Jake are gone and so is the eerie howling, the wind and sand no longer turning the flat into a disaster zone. The only noise is the gentle hum coming from Gus 2.0’s fish tank. Marc catches his breath and takes a look at the damage: nothing too bad, but it will still be a pain in the ass to clean the mess. He carefully lifts himself off the chair and looks down at the tiny pup sitting on the rug, tail wagging and happy to see him.
“Looks like it’s just me and you now bud. Come on, I'll fix us something to eat.” Before he heads for the kitchen, he reaches down to take Anubis’ empty plate and cup and pauses, shaking his head and smiling to himself. The god never did tell them what was in the infernal box.
The clever fox.