Zach was now fully indoctrinated. Damon could see his thoughts, and the bratty little brother who'd stood here a moment ago was now concerned only with the love and worship of Anubis. He had served his god well, but something in him whispered that he could go further. This land and its people had forgotten the old gods' names, and assistance might be required in making them known again. Zach was his blood. Zach was worthy.
"Zach," said Damon. "Would you aid me in spreading his glory?"
Zach beamed wide, his white teeth very bright against his newly tanned skin. "Yes! I want that more than anything! Does he really think I'm worthy?"
"He does. His word echoes inside me." Damon could feel Anubis' approval welling up in him, and his power. "Close your eyes, brother."
Zach complied, waiting patiently for whatever was to come. Damon released the boy, then brought his fingertip up to his own mouth, kissed it, and pressed it to Zach's forehead. His brother let out a small gasp, and for a moment, that was all.
Zach's smile faded, until his face was solemn and grave as a statue's. His skin darkened and sprouted black fur; his face elongated, becoming pointed, and his ears migrated to the top of his head. His skirt became more elaborate, decorated in the same gold trimmings as Damon's, but the new jackal servant wore no headdress; instead, his jewelry was more prevalent and elaborate, with ruby-inlaid bangles clinking at his wrists, and a gold toque around his neck, its ends bent into the sacred ankh. The fur around his eyes shifted gold, like they'd been whorled with gilded eyeliner, and when his eyes opened, they were the same black-on-gold as his brother's.
The jackal that had once been Zach was shorter, more slender, but radiated the same holy energy. He had felt Anubis' word for only a few minutes before transforming, and it was nothing compared to what he felt now. It was like comparing a candle to the sun. As a human follower, his indoctrination had brought him joy; now he was unsmiling, because joy was insignificant compared to the bone-deep purpose he felt now. He didn't thank Damon, because no words were capable of expressing his gratitude for this new existence, and because Anubis' approval now radiated within them both, along with his commandment to spread his influence wherever they could.
The bedroom had shifted fully. Candles cast their light on the clay walls, and a straw-stuffed mattress lay in one corner. The room no longer belonged to anyone, strictly speaking. The jackals had no need for sleep.
Zach turned to the doorway, which was now open wide - the door that had once divided it from the rest of this house had faded away. He strode slowly through the house, and as his black-tipped paws dug into the carpet, it shimmered and became a simple dirt floor. In the other room the boys' mother was preparing dinner, and she looked up from the sink as Zach approached.
"There you are," she said. "Has your brother taken out the gar-"
At first her eyes widened in shock, but when her gaze met Zach's her expression became tranquil. Already they were much more adept at spreading Anubis' word. Her skin tanned and her clothes shifted, and as the gas stove shifted to fired clay, she prostrated herself before the two jackals.
"My lords," she said. "I am not worthy."
"All are worthy before the god of death," said Zach. "Rise, and be at peace."
She rose, still bowing reverently, and backed away. This dwelling's shrine to Anubis was in the other room. It was almost time for prayer.
The brothers' mission burned inside them. They would convert as many as they could, and as this town returned to the forgotten ways, it would become a door through which Anubis himself could enter. Then they would welcome their god, and receive his blessing, by his own hand.
In unison, the jackals' long tongues emerged and licked their lips. They could hardly wait.