© Jennifer R. Milward 2006

This story is a work of fiction. Lara Croft, her likeness, and the Tomb Raider games are all copyright of EIDOS Interactive. There is no challenge to these copyrights intended by this story, as it is a non-sanctioned, unofficial work of the author's own.

Part VII

A little before first light, Putai and I set out across the desert.

I had arrived at the well to find her fully prepared and packed for a long trek. Ahmak was loaded down with supplies of food, water and fuel, and two more camels would be our primary transport. I donned the white turban and desert robe she offered; her own clothing was dyed a dark violet-blue that appeared almost black. I did not ask where we were headed, and she did not volunteer any information.

In silence, she led the way out through the village and into the emptiness beyond. Ahmak grumbled to himself the whole time, but fortunately my own mount proved to be docile, and far less inclined to casual violence.

After nearly two days of trekking across the sands, we crossed into the foothills of the mountains. Hot desert wind – the famous harmattan capable of scouring flesh from bone – howled up and down the narrow valleys, forcing our pace down to a crawl. I pulled my turban close and pitied the camels; they advanced with eyes almost shut and necks bent down to better resist the terrible gale.

That night, we took shelter beneath two wind-bent acacias. The harmattan kept defying our attempts to build a fire. We ate a meal of dried fruit, onions and cold roast goat-meat, and fell into awkward slumber propped up against the camels' protective backs.

When I awoke the next morning, I found Putai kneeling in prayer a short distance away. Before I could start breakfast, she stood and gestured for me to stop.

"It is necessary that we fast this day. We have entered the Gods' lands, and must show the proper respect. It is not much further."

Her unassuming manner during the journey had assuaged most of my resentment. "Very well. You've brought me this far."

She smiled briefly. "Indeed."

The sun was already warm, but I felt a chill running through me. Putai handed me a jar of something green and pungent, and spoke softly.

"Walk down the gorge until you come to a cleft in the rock. Through the cleft is a passage. Through the passage is an opening. In the opening you will find a spring. Bathe with this ointment, and I will come and prepare you."

I took the jar, suddenly feeling light-headed. The landscape had taken on a dream-like unreality. A hawk called to me from high above. I was suddenly, acutely aware of everything – right down to the rhythm of my breathing, and the sharp grit in my sandals. The fierce winds had all but died away. A desert locust was chirruping nearby.

The cleft in the cliff-face was barely wide enough to admit me. I felt my way through the darkness, savouring the texture of cool, roughened stone beneath my fingers, until I emerged into a natural courtyard.

The walls were steep-sided, and enclosed a tumble of flattened boulders like a weatherworn staircase. Soft mosses and red-blooming cacti flourished in every chink and crevice. The spring Putai had spoken of burbled up silently from a hidden source in the rocks, filling a wide, natural depression with glorious turquoise water. It sparkled invitingly as I approached.

A little piece of heaven in the middle of the desert, I thought, unwrapping my turban.

I undressed, and lowered myself slowly into the water. It was deep enough that my toes barely touched the bottom, and the sudden, delicious cold quickened my breathing. The jar turned out to contain a coarse paste that, when massaged into my skin, left me feeling cleaner than I had felt in weeks. I untangled my hair, noting with astonishment how much it had grown.

Putai was waiting for me when I finally climbed out. She had changed from her dark desert attire into a midnight-blue robe, and gold peeped from her turban, wrists, ears, and neck. The Eye of Horus, outlined in black antimony, adorned her left eye.

"Please Lara, sit here with me. You must be prepared."

My ritual had begun.

Putai's humming settled into a steady rhythm; one-two, one-two, one-one-two, one-one-two, one-two, one-two… The notes mirrored my pulse as I knelt, naked, on the velvety-smooth sand. Her fingers danced lightly over my skin – forehead, cheek bones, and neck – describing unseen designs in coal-black paint. From my neck, she hung amulets of lapis lazuli and jasper, threaded on cords of fine golden silk. They felt like chunks of carved ice against my skin.

Wands of incense appeared in her hands, and wound ribbons of opium-scented smoke into the air. The smell served to heighten my dizziness, but I felt only a lingering peace instead of nausea. My body was draped in a simple toga of white linen, and a lamb's wool mantle was laid across my shoulders. I was aware of the medicine woman sitting behind me, droning her desert tune, as she combed out my hair and anointed it with sweet-smelling oils. The humming lulled me, calming my thoughts.

My eyes opened.

Shocked, I saw that night had fallen. Putai was nowhere to be seen. Torchlight flickered on the now mirror-black pool. I stood looking at my reflection without recognising myself. A water skin lay nearby and, remembering Salieah's advice, I stooped and filled it to the brim.

And then I began to hear the music.

Its haunting melody drew me back to the cleft and out into the moonlit desert, pulling me down the gorge like an invisible thread. My bare feet felt the subtlest of changes in the texture of the sand. Unprompted, I looked up. From high in the branches of an acacia, a single hawk sat watching me.

I blinked, and saw that the hawk was only an illusion – a collection of shadows that only when viewed from the right angle made up the shape of a bird. The music was definitely louder here; I could hear resonant strings and flutes set against drums and rattles.

I leaned back so I could see the hawk once more, and noticed that it was guarding an arched entrance cleverly hidden by the tree's gnarled roots. Picking my way between them, I entered.

It was like being back in the womb. Practically blind, I felt my way along the pitch-black, hot, smoke-laden air, until I came to a fire-lit chamber. The roof was barely high enough for me to stand upright. A single torch sputtered fitfully, casting dancing shadows over a central pedestal that was topped with a finely-sculpted bowl. The Eye of Horus, picked out with onyx and white jade, gazed back at me from its centre.

Memories stirred.

Lifting my water skin, I carefully poured out just enough fill the sacred bowl – my sacrifice, asking permission to continue. The wall before me split open, and doors swung inwards on oiled hinges. Setting my reservations aside, I walked on into the source of the ghostly music.

Putai was there, sitting on a low dais before a life-sized statue of the falcon-god, Horus. His golden arms were raised as if to embrace her. The woman's eyes were stretched open, and gleamed in the light from two enormous braziers flickering on either side of her. Her hands continuously beat upon a cow-hide drum, and sweat dotted her dark skin. She gave no sign of having noticed me.

I knelt, and waited for the Gods to arrive.

An hour went by with no change. I was thirsty, but did not dare reach for my water skin.

Time dragged on, until I lost track of all around me. Putai never stopped her drum-beating. It became as vital to life as breathing.

Gradually my legs, back, and shoulders succumbed to cramp, burning and aching. I pictured the cool oasis in my mind, trying to force out all other thoughts. I squinted at the medicine woman. Her head lolled and spittle ran from the corners of her mouth, but still she kept on drumming. Smoke-laden air filled my lungs, making me dizzy.

My whole body ached from dehydration, but my whole world had become filled by the statue before me, his golden body gleaming blood-red in the firelight. The entire room echoed with the sound of chanting, like voices of the dead coming to usher me away…

For I have served the God of Light, Horus, at the time of plagues… Into his likeness, set in stone…

In the gathering darkness, I whispered the words, or maybe I only heard the memory of words, etched onto a tomb's walls many miles and a lifetime away.

Into his temple beneath the ageless Pyramid… He is once more poised to battle and defeat Seth… I couldn't leave you… 'Tis a sad day Winston… Things in the vaults… We will hold her forever… Get out! Get out of the way… It is almost time…

It was deathly cold.

I opened my eyes, and stared out over a panorama of white. It was snowing hard. I felt the flakes melting where they alighted on my skin. Mountains encircled me, caging me in a maze of snowbound gorges and peaks.

I heard the engines long before I saw the plane.

And remembered.

"No," I whispered, watching it fall from the darkening sky. "Not again!"

The fuselage struck an outcrop and plunged down. It hit the glacier beneath, sliding drunkenly, leaving a trail of debris and burning fuel. A wing sheared off, twisting the body of the plane. When it reached the yawning crevasse, it seemed to hang in the air.

The smoke burned my lungs, just as it had all those years ago, as I fell to my knees in the snow. Its pristine whiteness was speckled with soot, and I glanced up just long enough to see a single figure struggling free of the wreckage. She held back, trying to pull someone to safety. The ice beneath her buckled, forcing her to retreat.

My screams were echoed by that of my younger self, as both of our fiancées and friends plunged into the crevasse and were lost in the explosion that followed.

And you have been running ever since.

I sobbed desperately. "I could have done something! I should have done something!"

You survived, Lara. That was the hardest thing anyone could have done. Most would have let themselves die then, rather than face life alone with the guilt.

"I could have saved them! Why… couldn't… I… save… them?!"

You have carried this grief ever since. It is the heaviest burden of them all.

"I could have saved them…"

No. You could not.

"Feast your eyes on this, Lara. How does that make your wallet rumble?"

"I'm sorry, I only play for sport."

"Then you'll like a big park. Peru? Vast mountain ranges to cover, sheer walls of ice, rocky crags, savage winds. And there's this little trinket…"

The image of the Scion spun before my eyes.

"I always took the hardest quests, the toughest expeditions. I could never resist adventure." I whispered.

You were running from yourself. Running from the pain, the anger, the guilt...

"Running kept me alive. Without the challenge I'm nothing. I might as well be dead."

You have not mourned. In all these years, you have not once acknowledged your loss and found your true strength. You are the greatest challenge you have yet to face, Lara.

"And so the pupil excels the master. I congratulate you on your agility."

A young girl knelt in front of a carved stone, too immersed in reading the cracked and faded script to pay much attention to the much older man behind her.

"Take your prize from the plinth. You have earned it."

Idly, she brushed a strand of hair out her eyes.

Brown hair. Hazel eyes.

"It warns of vengeance on those who remove it…" she said quietly.

You knew the prize was always within you, waiting for the day you allowed yourself to claim it. Your own freedom is already within you.

I felt warm arms embracing me, comforting me. My father had never hugged me, but I would have wanted it to feel like this. I reached out to the warmth, letting it wipe away the tears of rage I had carried with me for so long.

"I think... I understand."

There was snow beneath my feet. Calmly now, I walked to the glacier's edge, turning to watch the plane.

"I couldn't have saved them."

A wing was cruelly wrenched off as it careened past. Smoke billowed out and rained soot onto the virgin snowfields.

"I survived."

They died because their time had come.

"All this time, I was trying to prove that I was alive, that I was strong enough to take on anything. What an idiot I've been."

No, Lara. You were simply blinded. You had to gaze into your own death to have your sight restored.

"Is that what I am? Restored? Healed?"

Not yet, but now you know how to heal yourself.

"I think… that's possible."

Anything is possible.

"Quickly girl! Before it collapses around you!"

The earth's trembling was so ferocious I could barely stand. A rock the size of my head smashed into me, breaking ribs, knocking me back.

Ahead there was light.

Behind me, only darkness.

I looked up into Werner's desperate face, and my new-found peace evaporated.

"You! You could have saved me! You coward!"

Lara, his own heart is for him to understand.

"If I can master myself then he should, too! If not he's weak and I hate him! I hate him!"

"I couldn't leave you!"

"You already have!"

My hand slipped. The darkness claimed me.

You have forgiven yourself. Now you must learn to forgive others as well.

"Not him! Never him!"

Peace, Lara. You will learn… in time.

My head struck something sharp, and my whole world vanished.