Ahhhhhhhhhhh! I'm so sorry this has taken so long! I just started my new
job last week, and it's been. . .interesting. However, this part of the
job won't last too much longer, and then my energy levels will be back up
again.
Reviews! Wow! I can't remember the last time I got seven reviews! (frowns thoughtfully) Maybe never? Anyhow!
Brunette: You know, I always assumed the fan was left on in Dr Chamberlain's office because of the heat in Egypt, but at the same time, none of the other fans were on in the various scenes. I really enjoyed writing this section. . .it was challenging, finding a way to fit that scene from the movie into this setting.
Jw: Hi! I'm glad you're enjoying the story, and I'm even happier that the characters ring true. I agree, Imhotep is someone who gets rid of his enemies as soon as he can, but this was something of an experiment for me (I'm always experimenting with my stories). I wanted to see if I could write Imhotep as he was. . .and as he could be at the same time. And I'm glad you like Celia. I'm quite fond of her myself. . .original characters are sort of like a writer's children. They don't always do what you want to, but you love them to pieces and tend to be very protective of them.
Sailor Elf: Whoa? Okay. I can accept a whoa. So long as you like it!
Terreis: And the plot will continue to thicken. (Rule number one. . .never answer reviews after being up for sixteen hours and a full day of work). A few developments in this chaper which will have repercussions later. Not tellin' which they are, though! And yes. . .Jonathan is also becoming a major player in this.story (and one of the main characters in the next 1933 story, 'Priorities.')
Kylie: Yup, more Rick and Evy ahead. . .Rick and Evy, Ardeth and Celia, Imhotep and Anck, Lock-nah and Meela. Also hopefully some Beni/Renee. Jonathan's love story will come up in another story. . .and yes, I have someone for Jonathan. Couldn't very well leave my favorite Englishman out!
Evywannabe: Hehehhe. . .well, it's not this chaper where we really get to the fun part, but the next one. And it's such fun to write Rick and Evy in their pre-courting days. I've never written them at that stage (99% of my stories are post 'The Mummy Returns'), but it's a lot of fun.
Deana: You know, that Rick and Beni scene in the movie was one of the funniest scenes in the movie. Rick, Beni, and Jonathan, I should say. Another funny scene from the first Mummy movie coming up in the next chapter. And hopefully, that will be posted by Christmas, since I have three days off next week.
Part Ten
Jonathan Carnahan was quite proud of his van, and in his opinion, rightfully so. For one thing, it was his second vehicle. That he even had the money, or credit, to afford a second vehicle was a matter of pride for Jonathan. In addition, it was a mini-van that could fit up to eight adults somewhat comfortably. It came in quite handy for the college professor, who ignored any and all snide remarks about 'soccer mom' from his colleagues.
And he seriously doubted if two of his passengers would complain about being in a mini-van, not when they could stretch their rather long legs. The girls, he wasn't nearly as worried about, but the two men? Both were big and both were intimidating, though in totally different ways. However, as much as his two male passengers intimidated him, Jonathan refused to play the coward.
After all, he couldn't very well leave his darling baby sister alone this weekend, now could he? Oh, he knew that her two roommates would be there with Evy, but neither Anck nor Celia were Evy's elder siblings. It was Jonathan's pleasure, privilege, right, and duty to look out for his sister when in the company of strange men. . .and tease her unmercifully about her barely disguised attraction to 'that annoying Mr O'Connell,' as Evy called him.
The 'annoying' Mr O'Connell was seated next to Jonathan in the front seat of the van. And rather than think about teasing his sister (which would lead to him laughing, and trying to explain the joke to his passengers), Jonathan instead elected to think about his beloved van. When he bought the van, almost eighteen months earlier, he ever-so nobly resisted the impulse to turn his vehicle into the Mystery Machine, in homage to the happy hours he spent as a child, watching 'Scooby-Doo.' But oh, that temptation was there! Especially on days like today. He glanced into the mirror, taking stock of his passengers (and tried not to think about how full of bags his poor van was).
Let's see. . .Evy would have to be Daphne. Danger-prone Daphne does it again, they always used to say on the show, and Evy was certainly clumsy enough to fit that description. Celia had to be Velma. . .no question there, as well. Jonathan, of course, was Shaggy. Which left Fred and Scooby. Anck wasn't accounted for, nor were Jonathan's two new acquaintances, Rick O'Connell and Ardeth Bey. None of them sounded quite right for the last two spots on the Scooby gang.
He knew from his students that on the popular television show, 'Buffy,' her support team were known as 'the Scoobies.' That was the only reason he would have known about the show. Jonathan didn't really like science fiction/fantasy/horror shows. His life was strange enough. Evy, of course, was the complete opposite. He supposed he had himself to blame, at least in part. Much as he hated to admit it. . .
Yes. It was his fault. He got her hooked on 'Battlestar Galactica,' because he mentioned the Egyptian themes in the show, and Evy was obsessed by Egypt from a very, very young age. Of course, the show was off the air by that time (it was off the air several years before she was even born), but never let it be said that Evy Carnahan let such an insignificant little detail get in her way. Oh no. Not *his* sister!
And speaking of his determined little sister. . . Jonathan glanced into the very backseat, to where his sister sat with Celia, Evy reading a magazine (probably Archaeology) and her roommate was just staring out the window. This was the second time he drove the girls to the event at Galen's ranch, and the umpteenth time he acted as a chauffeur for the trio. Celia didn't have her license yet, Evy hated driving, and Anck scared the bloody hell out of the other two. She *loved* going fast.
Anck was sitting in the first passenger row, behind O'Connell, with the quiet and mysterious Ardeth Bey seated behind Jonathan. Jonathan didn't know quite what to make of Ardeth. He was quite aware of his impact on Celia. Evy was *quite* clear on that, as clear as she was about her annoyance with O'Connell, who was apparently Ardeth's brother or step- brother. More likely the second, because there was no family resemblance between them.
Not that there was much of a family resemblance between Evy and Jonathan. Evy had the dark hair and eyes of her Egyptian mother, while Jonathan had the coloring of his parents. His father was, of course, English with some Irish ancestor, and Jonathan's mother was Scottish. She died when he was very young, and he had very few memories of her. Even so, he still missed her, and envied Evy for her memories of her mother.
Continuing in that vein, Jonathan thought about the Ferguson family. He met Celia almost at the same time his sister did. . .within a day or so. And he met her two brothers a few months earlier, when Galen and Jason came to university to collect Celia at the end of the spring term. There were common themes among those siblings. All three had very dark hair (Celia was often mistaken for having black hair, but it was actually dark brown. Her two siblings actually did have black hair). Celia and Jason both had hazel eyes, and they were somewhat shorter in stature than their older brother Galen. In fact, Jonathan once heard it said that Galen was larger than life in some ways.
Jonthan's attention was drawn away from thoughts of genetics and family resemblances when Anck got a very familiar, very devilish gleam in her dark eyes. Uh-oh. She was up to something. That was nothing unusual. Anck was always up to something, and usually, that meant trouble for one of her two roommates, or Jonathan. She said, casting her eyes into the back of the van, "Ohhhhhh, Celiaaaaaaaaaaaa! How many clown suits does your brother have?"
Celia drew her attention away from the passing scenery, replying, "Uhm. . .one, I think. Why? Did you plan to suggest that Jonathan dress up as a clown?" WHAT????? Anck nodded, and Celia shook her head, saying, "Nah. Galen and I swapped a few emails, and we decided that Jonathan would do some magic tricks for the children, make animal balloons, maybe tell some stories. You know, stick with what he's good at."
Jonathan couldn't decide if that was a compliment or an insult, and instead of asking that question, he chose to ask instead, "So then, who will be the clown?" Personally, he was praying she wouldn't say Evy. He didn't think so. Celia was more sensitive than that, and since she could be just as clumsy, that would have been pot and kettle. Celia raised her chin a little, and Jonathan shuddered. Yes, Celia was more sensitive than that, but she also had a devilish streak.
"Didn't Evy tell you? Mr O'Connell will be. . .the whole costume is waiting for him. The outfit. The huge clown feet. . .and the grease paint," the American girl replied. There was a dead silence in the van. Jonathan looked first at his sister and Celia in the back seat. Despite the distance, he could tell that Celia's eyes were twinkling. Evy was smirking. Anck was falling sideways in her seat, laughing hysterically in the rearview mirror. Then. . .
"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!?!" Jonathan winced at the explosion coming from the passenger beside him. Ohhhhhh, Americans!
. . .
Rick O'Connell was *not* amused. He was not amused by the burst of laughter which greeted his perfectly reasonable question. He was not amused at the way Ardeth's shoulders were shaking, or that his brother closed his eyes tightly. And he sure as hell wasn't amused by the fact that he was volunteered to be a clown, of all things! Ardeth got to ride horses, and Rick was a clown??????
There was absolutely no sense of justice in this trio of girls. None whatsoever. Although, why that surprised him, he wasn't entirely sure. Then he smiled to himself, a smile he *knew* Jonathan Carnahan noticed. He knew that, because the Englishman was looking over at him a bit nervously. Carnahan didn't have anything to worry about, not yet at least. However, his sister, on the other hand. . .
Rick's smile widened as he remembered his conversation with Ardeth just before they left to meet up with the three roommates. More to the point, he remembered Ardeth's reaction to what Rick was carrying in his duffel bag. His brother pointed out, quite rightly, that if they were caught with it in the van, they would be in VERY serious trouble. Rick knew that. He also knew that if they kept the speed down, and didn't attract the attention of the local authorities, there wouldn't be any trouble.
And he told his brother that. Ardeth sighed, then pointed out that the roommates were under the legal age for the consumption of alcohol. Rick knew that, too. If they were caught, he could be charged with. . .something involving the corruption of a minor. However. They would be on private property. Rick wouldn't get the bottle out until it was just the adults (nominal adults, at least, since Altair swore Rick still hadn't grown up. He just smiled and started singing the Toys-R-Us song). No worries.
However, Ardeth worried. It was part and parcel of his job. And unfortunately, he had plenty to worry about, with the latest on Imhotep and his merry band of cutthroats and thieves. Ardeth was particularly concerned by this cousin of Anck Cortez, Meela. Information from Izzy revealed that the girl's name was Meela Nais. Like Anck, she was nineteen years old. . .spent the last five years in Egypt. The Med-jai in Cairo kept an eye on her, because of her affiliation with Lock-nah. Affiliation, shit. . .call it like it was! They were lovers!
From what Rick could piece together, between Ardeth's information and the follow-up from Izzy, there was a falling out between Yolanda Cortez and her sister Paula five years earlier. In the wake of the argument, Paula took her fourteen year old daughter to Egypt, where Paula later died. (Rick didn't ask how Izzy knew all this. . .he didn't think he wanted to know). Apparently, Meela blamed her aunt and cousin for her mother's death, because she was now focused on avenging herself on Anck.
She planned to do this by going after Anck's friend and roommate, namely, the little roommate, Celia Ferguson. Rick thought about that confrontation, and if not for the problems she and her boyfriend caused for Rick's family, he would have actually felt sorry for Meela. The confrontation between her and Celia would not be nearly as one-sided as he was sure Meela thought it would be. That was, of course, assuming Anck didn't kick Meela's ass just for looking at Celia cross-ways.
That was something else Izzy told him, something Rick probably would have figured out on his own eventually. When it came to Celia, Anck defined the term 'overprotective.' He didn't know what happened to make her react so powerfully. Maybe it was just that the little roommate was so. . .well. . .little. Tiny. Seemingly fragile. Rick didn't know, and wasn't so sure if it was a great idea to ask Anck outright.
Instead, he turned his attention back to the insult he was tendered and called back, "I don't see what's so funny. I mean, I'm not clown material at all. . .Ardeth, stop laughing, dammit!" He glowered at his brother, who was trying very hard to stifle his mirth. The younger brother answered something in ancient Egyptian that Rick didn't think he wanted translated.
Especially not when Ardeth's comment sent Evy Carnahan off into fresh spasm of giggles. Hmm. Maybe Ardeth was right, and the alcohol wouldn't be necessary. Well, even if it wasn't necessary for her, Rick was fairly positive that it would be necessary for him, after spending a few days in the loony bin. He liked kids. He really did. He even loved his little sisters. But spending two or three days with a group of children, ranging in age from four to fifteen?
Definitely a recipe for disaster! Rick did a double take, as Evy said something back to Ardeth in the same language. That wasn't the only surprise. Ardeth twisted in his seat to look at Evy, then turned back around. He was blinking in surprise, a definite 'ooookay' expression on his face. And then, he started laughing. Didn't even try to contain himself this time. Oh yeah. Rick really didn't think he wanted a translation.
He wasn't the only one. Anck asked, looking from Rick to Ardeth to Evy, then back at Ardeth, "Ay. . .do I really want to know what either of you just said? And Evy, is this your idea of getting back at Celia when she starts talking to Beni in Hungarian?" Rick looked into the rearview mirror, to see Evy laughing helplessly and shaking her head. To which question, Rick wasn't entirely sure. . .and wasn't sure if he wanted to know, either. Again. He really wished they would quit doing this to him.
"La. . .you do not wish to know, and I am uncertain if I can explain it," Ardeth answered when he could finally stop laughing. That was a shock, in and of itself. There were times when Rick wasn't sure if Ardeth even knew how to laugh. Yeah, he had that warped sense of humor, and a mischievous streak a mile wide. But he rarely laughed. . . yet, here were these girls, making him laugh. They just met him, for Gawd's sake!
"Then I will accept that answer. So tell me, Ardeth Bey, how many languages do you speak?" Anck asked. It took Rick a moment to switch gears, although, maybe he should have seen that one coming. There was Ardeth and Evelyn speaking ancient Egyptian as if it was Spanish or English, rather than a dead language. Anck asking if that incident was to get back at Celia for talking to Rick's little buddy, the turncoat Beni, in Hungarian. And Ardeth intermingling his Arabic with his English, which wasn't unusual with him. He was thinking in two different languages, after all.
"Fluently or somewhat fluently?" Ardeth asked. Rick resisted the temptation to bop his brother upside the head. In the first place, he gave his brother too many headaches. In the second, he didn't want to reach back that far. It might mess up his arm and shoulder. He settled, instead, for his nastiest glare. Of course, that didn't phase Ardeth one bit. Did it ever? Rick discovered, quite to his shock, that he would be worried if his glare did phase his brother.
"Either one, both. . ." came the response from the very back, and the little roommate. She paused, then added, "Of course, Ardeth, if it would make you feel better, we could all tell what languages we speak. I'm not sure about Mr O'Connell, but I think everyone in this mini-van is bilingual." Rick frowned. So he was 'Mr O'Connell,' and his brother was 'Ardeth,' then? Why? Was he wrong about her. . .was she just like other girls, trying to be coy? Nah. That didn't feel right. It was possible that he was reading her wrong, but he didn't think so.
"Only if you wish to do so," came his brother's answer. Rick rolled his eyes. So much for the assertion that chivalry was dead. Unfortunately, in spite of himself, Rick knew that he wasn't much better than Ardeth in that respect. He really, *really* hated to admit it. . .but it was true. Ardeth continued, "I speak Arabic, of course, and a language known only to my people. It dates back many thousands of years, to when a secret code was needed to fulfill their duties as Pharaoh's bodyguards. Ancient Egyptian, English, and a smattering of European languages."
"What he means," Rick said, ignoring his brother's warning glare, "is that he's also fluent in Greek, courtesy of his mother. Thanks to the tourists coming to Egypt (who made his life a living hell, though Rick didn't mention that part), my brother can converse in Spanish, German, and Italian. He can also curse quite fluently in several Arab dialects. Always out of the hearing of his mother, naturally."
Rick laughed as Anck answered, "Oh, of course." The American studiously ignored the glare he was currently receiving from Ardeth. Was he thinking earlier that it would be a bad thing, having a crazy weekend? Hell no! Getting under Evelyn Carnahan's skin, teasing his brother, clowning around. . .this was gonna be a great weekend! Just as long as he didn't find Celia Ferguson's hands anywhere they didn't belong on his brother's body!
. . .
He was up to something. Something more than getting Evelyn Carnahan drunk, just to see if he could. Ardeth knew his brother, even better than Rick knew him. He knew when Rick was up to something, he knew when his brother was in trouble, and he knew when that trouble would involve him as well. This was one time when trouble would also involve him, and all Ardeth could do was pray no one got hurt.
Still, the young chieftain couldn't deny that he was already enjoying himself. He was concerned by what Rick told him about Beni Gabor, snooping around in their apartment. That actually concerned him more than he would acknowledge to Rick. When he was being truly honest with himself, it frightened him. Lock-nah hired Beni because he realized there was a connection to the three roommates.
And while Rick forgot about the danger Lock-nah posed to anyone who crossed him, Ardeth did not. He would have a word with one of his new allies. Perhaps Izzy Buttons, who was always more forthcoming about information when Ardeth spoke to him than he was with Rick. Izzy Buttons. He had to admit, it did suit the man far better than his actual name. Perhaps Izzy would know someone who could protect Beni Gabor's small daughter and her mother. They would need all the help they could get, if Lock-nah realized Beni was playing both sides.
Monday. He would deal with that Monday. Ardeth originally volunteered for this weekend, because it gave him a connection, however tenuous, to his two baby sisters. But now, he was having fun. He enjoyed his brother's antics, as well as listening to the banter between the three roommates. Ardeth was still uncertain about Jonathan Carnahan, but hoped to get to know him better. At the very least, as a loving older brother, he could be an ally of some kind, if only to protect the three girls.
The three girls. Why was it so very important to him, to protect them? Why was it especially important to him to protect Celia? He didn't understand it. How could he care so deeply for someone he just met? Yes, she was pretty in an understated way. And yes, she had a great deal of strength and quiet courage (though not so quiet when it came to defending someone she cared about). But Ardeth knew other women like that.
What was it about *her,* then, that made him so determined to keep her from harm? To the point that it was a matter of honor for him, a matter of. . .well, yes. Honor was the best way to put it. But it was more than that. More than honor, more than duty, more than principle. She touched him in a strange way. Ardeth told himself many, many times that he couldn't get involved with her, and he maintained that even now, when she was patently already involved, by virtue of her friendship with Anck.
But he still enjoyed talking with her. He enjoyed hearing the odd things that drew her attention, and forced him to look at things in a totally different way. She. . .yes. She challenged him, without being challenging. She threw down no gauntlet, never tried to impress him with her brilliance or wisdom or bravery. She simply did, simply was, and that drew Ardeth to her.
She was honest. Brutally honest, he sensed. If there was any deception in her, it was her habit of thinking herself somehow less than other people. She was blind to her own strength, to her own intelligence, to her own beauty. Beauty? Yes. Her beauty lay not in the fairness of her face, but in her strength, determination, intelligence, and compassion. Celia stood up to Rick for Beni Gabor, and she and her roommates stood up to Henderson and Daniels for Ardeth and Rick.
Which left Ardeth with one helluva mess, as Rick would have said. As his mind wandered, the young chieftain came to a conclusion that rocked his very soul. He was drawn to Celia. Indeed, if he spent too much time with her, it would be entirely too easy to let his guard down with her. That would be a disaster, for everyone involved, for a variety of reasons.
There was also Anck. Ardeth held no illusions about Anck Cortez. She offered to keep the college-age man-eaters away from him.But Ardeth knew she would turn on him if something happened to Celia while she was with him. Yes, it was best to keep things strictly platonic. And it was possible, was it not? Ardeth didn't know. He spent very little time with females not of his family. Acacia and Aleta thought he didn't know, but Ardeth's baby sisters told him that the two oldest sisters screened the eligible females in the twelve tribes. According to the little girls, Acacia and Aleta wanted to make sure only the very bestest girl was permitted to marry Ardeth.
He smiled to himself. Even as he did his best by his people, his sisters sought to take care of him. All four of them. Acacia and Aleta. . .what was the phrase Rick often used? Oh yes. They often ran interference for him. His two youngest sisters were known to serve him breakfast in bed. They were often the only people who were up before Ardeth was, and took it upon themselves to make sure he ate.
So odd, that two such tiny individuals could be so terribly protective of someone who was so much bigger than they were. It was Ardeth's job to take care of them, but they were just as determined to take care of *him.* And regardless of what his brother said, Ardeth did not consider Celia tiny. She was small, yes. Petite, yes. But not tiny. 'Tiny' was a word he associated with his two baby sisters.
Whom, he admitted without hesitation, he missed most desperately. Ardeth closed his eyes, closing out the continuing banter around him as he thought about his baby sisters. Looking back, Ardeth remembered that his brother Andreas had a far more difficult time with their mother's second marriage than Ardeth did. Andreas didn't always think first. . .and sometimes, he didn't think at all. Were it up to him, their mother would have mourned their father for the rest of her life, quietly fading away into nothing.
Ardeth could never truly be sure what hurt his heart more. . .the loss of his father or his mother's anguish. It hurt, seeing his mother in such pain. Papa was gone. He wouldn't come back. And he often encouraged young widows to marry again, once their hearts were healed. He would tell them that they were young and had their entire life in front of them. The Med-jai lost a great warrior (or healer or scholar) in her husband, they had no wish to bury her as well.
Ardeth was eight years old the first time he heard his father counsel a young widow. Papa wasn't just Ardeth, Andreas, Acacia, Aleta, and Anatol's father. In some ways, he was a father to many fatherless young people. Such was the case of this young widow, whose own father died in battle when she was very small. After assuring the young woman that she was not dishonoring the memory of her husband, if she fell in love again, Suleiman looked at his small son and asked softly, "You wish to know why I said that, Ardeth. . .why I said what I did about her remarriage?"
Ardeth, who cherished every bit of attention he received from his adored father, nodded. It really wasn't important to him. He was eight years old, and he wasn't in the least bit interested in girls, unless it was ways to torment his two sisters. After all, that was what sisters were for, were they not? Tormenting and protecting?
Suleiman explained, "Because her heart is too big to love just one person, my son. I have known her since. . .well, since before she was even born! I watched her grow up. I was there when her father died, and when she married. She has so much love to give. The truly fortunate ones, Ardeth, are those people who can love many. People like your mother. Imagine. . .your mother has five children to love, in addition to her husband. . . and she gives her love freely to others. But even more fortunate are the ones whom they love. People like us."
Suleiman smiled then and gently ruffled his black hair, adding, "You do not understand. But you will, son. I promise. One day, you will." And his father was right. Fifteen years later, Ardeth *did* understand. Just as he understood now that his father was glad of his mother's remarriage; in fact, Suleiman wanted Altair to remarry, if anything ever happened to him.
His father would have also been pleased about the babies, though they were not his. And he would have understood that Ardeth took his role as older brother very seriously. He always understood, in a way Ardeth's mother didn't. A few weeks ago, for example, just after the attacks against his two sisters, Ardeth encountered his mother while he was checking on the babies. He tried to move around her, unable to look her in the eye. He failed her. He failed them all. But his mother put her hands on his arms, whispering, "Stop. Please, my son. You must stop blaming yourself. I do not blame you. Nathaniel does not blame you. The little ones do not blame you."
She cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. Once his eyes met hers, Altair O'Connell said quietly, "Andreas was always irresponsible, while you always took too much responsibility, as if you were trying to restore the balance. But in so doing, you sacrificed your own balance. You cannot be all things to all people, Ardeth. Nor could your father. Just as your father could not have prevented the attack against my angels. No one could have." Ardeth didn't believe that. But his mother did.
She sighed, "When your father died, I thought my life was over. He was my life, from the time I was seventeen. He, and you children. And then I met Nathaniel. To love two such wonderful men in a lifetime? Nothing short of a miracle. And then. . .there were my babies. My two blessings. But all of my children are blessings, Ardeth. Even your step- brother. Please, my son. It is time we took some of the responsibility back. Find your balance when you go to America. Even as you seek justice for the babies. . .find your own balance."
Find your balance. His mother wanted Ardeth to remember he was not just a warrior, not just a chieftain, but a man. That was what this weekend was about. Not just about spending time with children, though that was part of it. If he learned anything about himself during the last few weeks it was that. . .that he was so damnably lonely. And that, more than anything, made him vulnerable.
. . .
His sister was due to arrive any moment, but that wasn't the real reason Dr Galen Ferguson was out here, staring up at the huge house. It was one of two that the Ferguson children inherited from their grandparents. There was also the house in Chicago proper, but this house was special. This was the house where Thomas and Annabelle, his grandparents, raised their family. It was an old house, built in the late 1950's. But it was built Victorian style. A big, sprawling house, perfect for raising your family.
And for youngsters who were on the outside looking in. It was something Galen noticed two years earlier, after Jason's brush with death. He was the center of attention, of course. . .and people forgot there were two other children affected by the entire situation. Yes, Celia was seventeen at the time, and Galen was hardly a child. But Jason was not the only one affected. Celia and Galen almost lost their brother.
Remembering that, Galen started paying more attention to the siblings of his patients. They were often neglected. . .not in practical terms, but in emotional terms. He couldn't do anything about the rest of the year, but at the very least, he could give them a weekend when they were the center of attention. And interfering in family matters wasn't Galen's style. He was well aware that parents had to make the sick/hurt child their first priority. And he did his best to make the child well, so things would normalize in the household.
But this was something he could do, something he wanted to do. . .and something both the parents and the siblings loved him for. The parents were often miserably aware that their other children still needed them, and were grateful for Galen's aid. They thanked him in any way they could, but the only thanks he really needed was the smiles from the children. That made it all worthwhile.
And he owed his sister big time for this. She really came through for him. Celia always helped out. . .well, she helped out both the previous year and now this weekend. But this year was special. This year, his closest friend Mathayus was out of the picture for the horseback riding. Matt didn't say much about his illness. . .injury. . .whatever it was. Just said that he couldn't do that if he wanted to live through this.
However, within twenty-four hours of her return to the university for the fall term, Celia had a replacement for Matt, along with a clown. Galen knew it wasn't Jonathan Carnahan, because while the English professor often was comical, he was far better suited to entertain the children with his magic tricks and his stories. Galen heard the smile in Celia's voice as she told him that she had just the person to dress up in the clown suit. There was a story there, Galen knew, and he couldn't wait to hear it.
He also couldn't want to talk to Celia about a few things she forgot to mention to him. First, exactly whom this 'Ardeth Bey' was, who was replacing Matt as the rider, and what exactly he meant to her. And secondly, he wanted to know just what the hell she was thinking this summer. His little sister wasn't nearly as good about keeping secrets as she thought. One of Galen's friends at the warehouse where Celia worked over the summer called him the previous week, while Celia was packing to go back to school, and told him about Neil Grady.
Galen was furious with his sister at first. Not for her mistakes in dealing with the fork truck driver, but for never telling Galen about it. He was her big brother, it was his job to protect her and Jason. He couldn't always do that. Galen *knew* that. Celia was nineteen, no longer a child. No longer the two year old child whom Galen protected when those men tried to kidnap them. She was on her way to becoming one helluva woman. Whether she realized it or not, Galen knew that. But it made him no less determined to protect her, to take care of her.
Just as she tried to protect those around her. Another case in point. . .her plea to the guys to back down, when the managers refused to take action against Neil Grady. She knew that if the guys pushed things any further, the managers would have retaliated against them. Maybe she didn't know that, but she did knew there would be consequences of some sort. There were always consequences.
Yes, Galen wanted to stay angry with his sister for shutting him out, but he just didn't have the heart to stay angry for long. Not when his sister was trying to protect him, and a lot of other people. His baby sister was far stronger than she knew. He realized that the year earlier, when he and his parents pushed her too far. In their defense, he had to acknowledge that until then, Celia never stood up to them. Never asserted herself, never really behaved as an individual. Maybe, though, that was where they made their mistakes. All of them. Maybe she was behaving like an individual all along, and they just weren't paying attention.
Yeah. That sounded about right. People didn't just change overnight. There were always clues, if you knew where to look. Gran probably noticed. Gran always noticed. She claimed not to play favorites, but Galen long suspected that his sister was their grandmother's favorite. Gran had a special relationship with Celia. He wanted to resent his sister for it, but how could he? Galen was their mother's favorite child. Jason was their father's favorite child. Yes, their parents loved all three of them. But they had favorites.
Given that truth, what gave him the right to resent Celia? Shouldn't she be someone's favorite as well? When they were younger, Galen often told Celia that she was his favorite sister. With all the logic of an eight, nine, or ten year old, she would point out to him that she was his *only* sister. Just as Jason was his only brother. How could she be his favorite sister, when she was the only sister he had?
Yes. She *was* his only sister. She was so much younger than he was, and she kept a secret from him because she knew how he would react. She was a decade younger than he was, and she was trying to protect him from Neil Grady, from himself. But Galen wasn't about to let Neil Grady get away with hurting his little sister. He thought briefly about telling Jason the whole story, then thought the better of it. Jason was only fourteen. He would deal with the Neil Gradys of the world soon enough.
And as Jonathan Carnahan's van came into sight, Galen realized he was glad he talked to Grady on his own. It wasn't much of a conversation, really. Not a verbal conversation. It was more like a fist-to-gut talk. Galen was a doctor, committed to easing the pain of terminally ill children and saving the lives of those children he could. But he was also a big brother, and that scumbag hurt his baby sister. Badly.
And because of that fact, Galen wanted to hurt Neil Grady. He wanted to hurt Neil Grady just as badly as Grady hurt Celia. Galen's sister wouldn't talk about the incident, but Galen knew her. Grady's betrayal left a deep wound in her soul. Never the most trusting girl, that incident would also affect her trust. Would make it more difficult for a good man to gain admittance to his sister's heart.
And there were good men out there. Somewhere out there, a man existed who could take good care of Celia, and who was man enough to let her take care of him. Somewhere out there, a man existed who could make her smile, and who could hold his own in a conversation with her. Somewhere out there, a man existed who would see his sister's true value. And if that man was wise, he would never let her go.
Neil Grady wasn't good enough for his sister. Not because he was a fork truck driver and Celia was the daughter of privilege. Not because he barely graduated from high school and Galern's sister would probably have her doctorate by the time she was twenty-five. No. None of that was true. Neil Grady wasn't good enough for Celia, because he was afraid of her. He was afraid of her, and because of that fear, he tried to ruin her life. He didn't succeed, because Celia was stronger than he was.
Galen resolved to tell his sister that. If she didn't already know, it was time she found out. It was time she realized that Neil Grady wasn't a man, but an overgrown child in the body of a man. It was time she accepted that whatever her mistakes were, her mistakes were born of inexperience, rather than malice. And if he had to beat up that sorry pile of horse manure again, well, there were worse sacrifices to be made for someone you loved.
. . .
Oddly enough, that was the same thing Beni Gabor was thinking right now. No matter how he tried to slice it, Beni knew that he was betraying his three ladies by spying on them for Lock-nah. On the other hand, he was double-crossing Lock-nah because of O'Connell. And even if O'Connell didn't think about the way this would affect Beni's family, the janitor could think of nothing else.
He originally took the job because he needed the money. With the money he would receive from finding out what he could about the connection between O'Connell and his brother, and the three roommates, Beni could make a new life for himself, for Renee, for Ceci. In the beginning, he only thought about what he could do. In those first few days, he really didn't think about the impact of what he was doing.
There was the understanding, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he might have made a deal with the devil himself. Lock-nah frightened Beni, in a way only one other person ever did. That one other person being Anck-su-namun Cortez. But the young man forced himself to concentrate on what he could do with the money he would earn with this job, instead of on his fears and his unease. At least, he could do that in the beginning. He could pretend that he was overreacting.
Until Rick O'Connell caught him in the apartment he shared with his stepbrother, and the resulting confrontation reminded Beni of things he didn't want to think about. For one thing, he was doing something illegal. O'Connell would be well within his rights to turn him over to the police. And that would *not* be a good thing. So. . .he really had no choice, other than to cooperate with O'Connell. Not if he wanted to stay out of jail.
For another thing, he didn't trust Lock-nah. Beni knew himself to be a weasel, but one thing about being a weasel. You could find out all sorts of things, having friends in low places. One such friend told Beni that Lock-nah bragged about threatening two little girls. This friend didn't know the exact details, but Beni didn't need to hear any more. He only needed to know that one thing.
What kind of man threatened a child? What kind of man bragged about threatening a child? The kind of man with whom Beni now found himself associated, and worse yet, he now walked a very fine line indeed. By double-crossing Lock-nah, and feeding him misinformation, Beni feared he would bring that man's wrath down upon his head. Perhaps it would be better to double-cross O'Connell yet again.
O'Connell had no trouble with hurting Beni, and Beni *knew* that. But he would never harm a child. It just wasn't in him. Lock-nah was a different matter. Beni would have said to hell with the deal he made with O'Connell, except for a few things. First, he betrayed O'Connell years earlier, and it wasn't a stretch to say that betrayal might have cost O'Connell his life. For another, he had the sick feeling that if he gave his allegiance to Lock-nah fully, he would end up betraying someone else.
And lastly, O'Connell might hate him, but he would agree to work with Beni to protect Beni's ladies. . .his Renee and his Ceci. At the moment, O'Connell was out of town, and it was for that reason that Beni was leaving his haunt inside the dormitory. If he wanted to protect his family, he would need more allies than just O'Connell and his stepbrother. The trouble was, he wasn't sure where to find those allies.
As he walked, he mentally ran through what he learned while he was in the apartment. There was little about the connection between the roommates and the brothers; however, mention was made about Dr Terrence Bey, Ardeth's uncle. Beni thought he might be a good place to start. Maybe Dr Bey would understand about protecting family.
At the same time, he kept a careful eye out for Lock-nah, or any of his other henchmen, for that matter. Or henchwomen, as the case may be. Beni agreed to give him misinformation, fed to him by O'Connell, but he really didn't want to deal with him today. Fortunately, he reached that building without incident. The man was working late. . .according to his students, he had late office hours. That wasn't terribly unusual in the early days of the semester, but he kept those hours all semester-long. He was brusque and not particularly patient, but supposedly, he was there for his students.
It was almost five pm now, and most classes were over. There were no such things as Friday night classes. That made Beni very suspicious of Dr Bey. What was he up to, that he would be staying so late? Everyone went home for the weekend, or were otherwise occupied. None of the other teachers were still here. For the first time, Beni wondered if he did the right thing morally in agreeing to help O'Connell. All right. . . 'agreeing' was an overstatement, but it was the principle of the thing.
What if O'Connell was the one who was involved in illegal activities? He wanted to believe that. He wanted to believe that was the case, and that he would be justified in betraying O'Connell again. After all, the world was rarely black and white. Beni stood in the middle of the hall, swinging from one decision to the other, about the way Renee's emotions did when she was dealing with the Curse.
But Beni's gut said otherwise. Was O'Connell capable of doing something shady, even illegal? Hell yes! But did Beni think that was the case? With a sigh, he realized the answer to that was a big, fat 'no.' Not this time. And even if it was illegal, it probably wasn't immoral, or even unethical. Whether Rick O'Connell liked to admit it or not, whether he would acknowledge it or not, he was a protector. Not a predator.
And that, Beni realized, was the source of his unease where Lock-nah was concerned. The man was a predator, and worse, Beni sensed he enjoyed causing pain. Not a man whom he wanted as an enemy. . .not a man he wanted as an ally, either. So what was he to do, hmm? Betray his friends, and lose their friendship forever? As he did with O'Connell? Or betray Lock- nah, and risk the lives of those whom he loved most?
The logical thing to do was betray O'Connell. He knew that. He knew that even if he betrayed O'Connell again, the other man would do whatever he could to protect Ceci and Renee. He knew the same was true of his friend Cecelia. The logical thing was to betray them. But as Beni started to turn away, another voice whispered, "Renee and Ceci will only be in danger if Lock-nah finds out that you have lied. Make sure he does not know, and they will be safe."
Yes. . .that would work. He was good at lying, after all. This was something Beni could do. He turned and headed toward Dr Bey's office once more. He rapped lightly on the door when he saw the man's head bent over his work. Dr Bey looked up and motioned him into the office with a puzzled frown. Beni said, slipping inside the room and closing the door behind him, "I can help you to protect your nephew."
Terrence Bey was a cool customer. He answered, "Protect my nephew? I'm sure I know nothing about this." But Beni hadn't come all this way to stop now. He glanced over his shoulder, making sure no one was in the viscinity, then stepped closer to the desk. The young man prayed he had the strength and the courage to carry this through. Then he remembered hearing that Lock-nah bragged about threatening a little girl. . .or worse. And his nerves settled.
He took two steps forward, until he was standing directly in front of the other man's desk, and stared at him steadily. A trick he learned from O'Connell.
"Do not play games with me, Dr Bey. I know that you are Ardeth Bey's uncle. I know that Rick O'Connell is his step-brother. And I know that they are here to do more than simply be a security guard and a teaching assistant. I know this, because I was recruited by a man named 'Lock-nah' to find out the connection between your nephew and three young women who live on my hall. Celia Ferguson, Anck-su-namun Cortez, and Evelyn Carnahan," Beni replied.
Dr Bey looked at him a moment longer, then said quietly, "Sit down. Tell me what possible connection there is between my nephew and those three girls." Beni smiled in satisfaction. He could only hope and pray that this didn't blow up in his face. Maybe, if he was very, very lucky, and very, very good, he could not only make it out of this alive and keep his ladies alive, but he could end up as a hero as well!
. . .
By the time the van pulled up at the end of the driveway, and in front of the house where they would all be staying for the next few days, everyone was ready. The three teenagers were getting cranky, Rick and Ardeth's legs were cramping up, and Jonathan was at his wits end with all five of them. He told them, quite bluntly, that the next time, O'Connell could sit in the very back.
That young man just smiled impishly, knowing that he drove Jonathan crazy. And taking no small amount of pleasure in it. He was good at it, and he knew it. People like that made Jonathan crazy, just by being, and they made him even crazier by taking such pleasure in it. Not that he really had time to tell O'Connell this, because only seconds after everyone tumbled from the van (in Celia's case, literally tumbling out of the van), Celia's older brother swooped down on them, arms opened wide.
Jonathan ducked out of the way, having an version to bear hugs. Then he felt somewhat slighted, because Galen didn't even try to hug him. Instead, he scooped his sister into his arms and spun her around, to the accompaniment of her delighted laughter. Well, fine, be that way! Jonathan noticed Rick O'Connell grinning at him, and demanded, "And just what do you find so funny?"
"Sour grapes," was all O'Connell would say as Galen put Celia back on her feet, then moved on to Evy. He scooped her in an equally powerful hug, then finally hugged Anck. Jonathan liked to flirt with Anck, sometimes just to irritate Evy. But he was more than a little jealous when Galen pretended to kiss the side of Anck's neck. . .as if they were a couple. They weren't. He knew that. Anck spent the time before the arrival of the brothers mooning over some new professor, Tepper.
"Now, little sister, I know these beautiful ladies, and I know Jonathan. Hey Jon. But please introduce these two gentlemen," Galen requested, putting his arm around his sister once more. He was a very demonstrative, very affectionate man. When he wasn't hugging or kissing his sister, he was ruffling her hair, which usually led to a mock-battle between the pair. In some ways, their antics reminded Jonathan of his own son, eight year old Alex. He *hated* having his hair ruffled. By anyone.
"Ardeth Bey and his step-brother, Rick O'Connell. Ardeth will be taking care of the horseback riding, and O'Connell was the one I told you about. . .a natural for the clown," Celia replied. Jonathan hid his grin at O'Connell and his obvious consternation. Galen looked at the younger American male with a judicious eye, then nodded his approval. Celia continued, "Ardeth, Mr O'Connell, this is my older brother, Dr Galen Ferguson."
Jonathan didn't miss the fact that she called one brother by his given name, and the other 'Mr.' It didn't escape her brother's notice, either, and two dark brows shot straight up into equally dark hair. Galen looked at Ardeth more closely as he shook the young man's hand, and said, "Well, I thank both of you for coming this weekend. It'll mean a lot to the kids. My best friend has either fallen ill or been injured. Or something I don't wanna know about."
He paused, winked at Ardeth, then added, "Maybe it's just as well. Mathayus. . . Matt. . . is Celia's partner in crime when she isn't around these two. I might just avoid some gray hairs this time around. . .oof." This was in response to Celia mock-punching him in the ribs. Well, if nothing else, being around the Ferguson siblings was always entertaining. On the other hand, he knew there was far more to this trio of brothers and sister than mere entertainment.
"It's your own fault, brother dear, for introducing me to Matt. It's not my fault if I have a better imagination for pranks than you do," Celia replied, affecting a nonchalant air, which lasted all of two seconds. Right up until the time her brother started tickling her. She squealed at that, and twisted away from her brother, still laughing. Galen advanced on her, fingers still waggling threateningly.
The impromptu comedy act would have continued indefinitely. Jonathan knew that. He saw these two in action before. But a squeal from the house drew everyone's attention. Galen swore ripely and broke off his tickle attack, running toward the source of the. . .scream? Shriek? Squeal? Celia was at his heels, reminding Jonathan that she could move very quickly indeed. In fact, she seemed to be moving faster than the last time he saw her move at full speed. He wondered what happened.
And even that question was pushed aside. . .along with him. . .as the others followed the siblings toward the house. The front door was thrown open and a little girl charged out, heading straight for either the doctor or Celia, wailing. Strangely enough, Celia reached her first, catching her in a fierce embrace. The little girl sobbed helplessly into the college student's shoulder as Galen dropped to one knee beside the pair. He put one hand on the back of Celia's neck and began rubbing the little girl's back with his other hand. The others formed a small semi-circle around the trio almost protectively.
They were joined a moment later by Ardeth, who knelt on the other side of Celia, his hand gently cradling the back of the little girl's skull. At last, the sobs eased and the little girl began to speak. Jonathan couldn't understand a word she said. None of it. But Celia obviously did, and just as obviously, so did her brother and Ardeth. Jonathan saw her look up at her brother with a worried look. This didn't look good. Not in the least.
Galen said softly, "It's okay, honey. I'll see what I can find out. Cele, you got her?" His younger sister nodded, carefully lifting the child onto her hip. Ardeth moved with her, and Galen continued, "Livvy, honey, this is Ardeth. . .Celia's new friend. He'll be taking you all on the horses this weekend. Matt couldn't come, so Ardeth volunteered to take his place instead." The child named 'Livvy' hiccuped and lifted a tear-stained little face from Celia's shoulder to peek at Ardeth shyly.
And that young man offered her a hesitant, tentative smile. He was bent slightly at the waist. . .perhaps to make himself less intimidating to the little girl. Although, Jonathan didn't see how that was possible. The other young man's long black hair was pulled away from his face during the drive to the house, and he was dressed in faded blue jeans and a white t- shirt. The white t-shirt probably wasn't the best idea, but Jonathan could appreciate the attempt.
Even so, there was the matter of his tattoos and Ardeth's solemnity. Jonathan found the quiet young man to be rather intimidating, and he knew from listening to the conversations in the car that Ardeth was younger than he was. However, children often surprised one. And even with an eight year old son of his own, Jonathan still didn't know exactly what to expect out of little ones. Livvy, who was no more than four or five, reached out a tiny hand and touched a tattoo on Ardeth's face, breathing, "Oooh. Did that hurt?"
Ardeth froze a little, then relaxed as Livvy traced the tattoos. Jonathan glanced away from the young man briefly, to look at the reactions of the others, then his attention was drawn back to Ardeth. The young man replied seriously, "It hurt when they were added. . .but that was many years ago. My name is Ardeth, as Galen told you. And your name is. . .Olivia?" The little girl nodded with a delighted grin, and Ardeth continued, "It is my pleasure to meet you. May I carry you? Celia must carry her bags inside and put them in her room for this weekend."
Jonathan privately thought that if Ardeth was a true gentleman, he would have offered to carry the bags. He re-thought that a moment later, when he realized that Livvy was probably heavier than the bags. Livvy thought about this for a long moment, looking from Celia to Ardeth, and back again. Celia said softly, "You know, honey, I'll be here the whole weekend. My feelings won't be hurt if you let Ardeth carry you."
"Promise?" Livvy asked and Celia nodded, smiling. Livvy needed no more time to think about it. She held her arms out to Ardeth, almost imperiously. The other young man smiled and accepted the child, nestling her on his hip to gain better stability, then shifted her to sit atop his shoulders. Livvy squealed with delight, prompting Ardeth to laugh as well. He went inside the house, carefully ducking down so Livvy wouldn't hit her head. Hmm. It would seem Jonathan misjudged him. Did Ardeth have a great deal of contact with small children?
He would have asked, but this didn't seem to be the time or the place. Even O'Connell, who had embryonic sensitivity at best, Jonathan would have said, was solemn. In fact, as he watched his brother go inside with Livvy, his face almost seemed stricken. Hmm. There was a story there, or his name wasn't Jonathan Carnahan! What was more, he would find out that story! But for now, he looked at their small hostess and her brother. . .the organizers of this strange little party.
Celia folded her arms over her chest, watching them go with a serious expression. Once Ardeth and Livvy were safely inside, she turned to her brother, asking in a soft voice, "This doesn't sound good, does it?" Galen shook his head, numbly heading back to the van to start unloading the bags. Celia followed, along with Jonathan, Anck, Evy, and O'Connell. In a low voice, she said softly, "Livvy's older brother is dying. At this point, all they can do is make him comfortable. Unfortunately, there's another problem."
She sighed, then added, "From what I could gather from Livvy, her father has been arrested. She doesn't know the details, and the details she does know are confused. Once Ardeth settles her down, and we're settled in, I'll call the hospital and see if I can talk to Livvy's mother. . .honestly, how much is one family supposed to take?" She shook her head, eyes reflecting sadness and frustration.
"Well. . .we can't do anything about Livvy's father or brother. But we can do something for Livvy. That's why we're here, after all," Rick O'Connell said quietly. The others looked at him, as he added, "Let's make sure Livvy has some good memories to take away some of the pain." The pall cast over the small group by the drama dissipated like fog in the afternoon sun. He was right. . .they were here. They would make this a memorable weekend! For everyone!
It wouldn't have surprised him to know that by the end of that weekend, blackmail would be obtained on all five young people. But what would surprise him was the sort of bonds about to be established.
Reviews! Wow! I can't remember the last time I got seven reviews! (frowns thoughtfully) Maybe never? Anyhow!
Brunette: You know, I always assumed the fan was left on in Dr Chamberlain's office because of the heat in Egypt, but at the same time, none of the other fans were on in the various scenes. I really enjoyed writing this section. . .it was challenging, finding a way to fit that scene from the movie into this setting.
Jw: Hi! I'm glad you're enjoying the story, and I'm even happier that the characters ring true. I agree, Imhotep is someone who gets rid of his enemies as soon as he can, but this was something of an experiment for me (I'm always experimenting with my stories). I wanted to see if I could write Imhotep as he was. . .and as he could be at the same time. And I'm glad you like Celia. I'm quite fond of her myself. . .original characters are sort of like a writer's children. They don't always do what you want to, but you love them to pieces and tend to be very protective of them.
Sailor Elf: Whoa? Okay. I can accept a whoa. So long as you like it!
Terreis: And the plot will continue to thicken. (Rule number one. . .never answer reviews after being up for sixteen hours and a full day of work). A few developments in this chaper which will have repercussions later. Not tellin' which they are, though! And yes. . .Jonathan is also becoming a major player in this.story (and one of the main characters in the next 1933 story, 'Priorities.')
Kylie: Yup, more Rick and Evy ahead. . .Rick and Evy, Ardeth and Celia, Imhotep and Anck, Lock-nah and Meela. Also hopefully some Beni/Renee. Jonathan's love story will come up in another story. . .and yes, I have someone for Jonathan. Couldn't very well leave my favorite Englishman out!
Evywannabe: Hehehhe. . .well, it's not this chaper where we really get to the fun part, but the next one. And it's such fun to write Rick and Evy in their pre-courting days. I've never written them at that stage (99% of my stories are post 'The Mummy Returns'), but it's a lot of fun.
Deana: You know, that Rick and Beni scene in the movie was one of the funniest scenes in the movie. Rick, Beni, and Jonathan, I should say. Another funny scene from the first Mummy movie coming up in the next chapter. And hopefully, that will be posted by Christmas, since I have three days off next week.
Part Ten
Jonathan Carnahan was quite proud of his van, and in his opinion, rightfully so. For one thing, it was his second vehicle. That he even had the money, or credit, to afford a second vehicle was a matter of pride for Jonathan. In addition, it was a mini-van that could fit up to eight adults somewhat comfortably. It came in quite handy for the college professor, who ignored any and all snide remarks about 'soccer mom' from his colleagues.
And he seriously doubted if two of his passengers would complain about being in a mini-van, not when they could stretch their rather long legs. The girls, he wasn't nearly as worried about, but the two men? Both were big and both were intimidating, though in totally different ways. However, as much as his two male passengers intimidated him, Jonathan refused to play the coward.
After all, he couldn't very well leave his darling baby sister alone this weekend, now could he? Oh, he knew that her two roommates would be there with Evy, but neither Anck nor Celia were Evy's elder siblings. It was Jonathan's pleasure, privilege, right, and duty to look out for his sister when in the company of strange men. . .and tease her unmercifully about her barely disguised attraction to 'that annoying Mr O'Connell,' as Evy called him.
The 'annoying' Mr O'Connell was seated next to Jonathan in the front seat of the van. And rather than think about teasing his sister (which would lead to him laughing, and trying to explain the joke to his passengers), Jonathan instead elected to think about his beloved van. When he bought the van, almost eighteen months earlier, he ever-so nobly resisted the impulse to turn his vehicle into the Mystery Machine, in homage to the happy hours he spent as a child, watching 'Scooby-Doo.' But oh, that temptation was there! Especially on days like today. He glanced into the mirror, taking stock of his passengers (and tried not to think about how full of bags his poor van was).
Let's see. . .Evy would have to be Daphne. Danger-prone Daphne does it again, they always used to say on the show, and Evy was certainly clumsy enough to fit that description. Celia had to be Velma. . .no question there, as well. Jonathan, of course, was Shaggy. Which left Fred and Scooby. Anck wasn't accounted for, nor were Jonathan's two new acquaintances, Rick O'Connell and Ardeth Bey. None of them sounded quite right for the last two spots on the Scooby gang.
He knew from his students that on the popular television show, 'Buffy,' her support team were known as 'the Scoobies.' That was the only reason he would have known about the show. Jonathan didn't really like science fiction/fantasy/horror shows. His life was strange enough. Evy, of course, was the complete opposite. He supposed he had himself to blame, at least in part. Much as he hated to admit it. . .
Yes. It was his fault. He got her hooked on 'Battlestar Galactica,' because he mentioned the Egyptian themes in the show, and Evy was obsessed by Egypt from a very, very young age. Of course, the show was off the air by that time (it was off the air several years before she was even born), but never let it be said that Evy Carnahan let such an insignificant little detail get in her way. Oh no. Not *his* sister!
And speaking of his determined little sister. . . Jonathan glanced into the very backseat, to where his sister sat with Celia, Evy reading a magazine (probably Archaeology) and her roommate was just staring out the window. This was the second time he drove the girls to the event at Galen's ranch, and the umpteenth time he acted as a chauffeur for the trio. Celia didn't have her license yet, Evy hated driving, and Anck scared the bloody hell out of the other two. She *loved* going fast.
Anck was sitting in the first passenger row, behind O'Connell, with the quiet and mysterious Ardeth Bey seated behind Jonathan. Jonathan didn't know quite what to make of Ardeth. He was quite aware of his impact on Celia. Evy was *quite* clear on that, as clear as she was about her annoyance with O'Connell, who was apparently Ardeth's brother or step- brother. More likely the second, because there was no family resemblance between them.
Not that there was much of a family resemblance between Evy and Jonathan. Evy had the dark hair and eyes of her Egyptian mother, while Jonathan had the coloring of his parents. His father was, of course, English with some Irish ancestor, and Jonathan's mother was Scottish. She died when he was very young, and he had very few memories of her. Even so, he still missed her, and envied Evy for her memories of her mother.
Continuing in that vein, Jonathan thought about the Ferguson family. He met Celia almost at the same time his sister did. . .within a day or so. And he met her two brothers a few months earlier, when Galen and Jason came to university to collect Celia at the end of the spring term. There were common themes among those siblings. All three had very dark hair (Celia was often mistaken for having black hair, but it was actually dark brown. Her two siblings actually did have black hair). Celia and Jason both had hazel eyes, and they were somewhat shorter in stature than their older brother Galen. In fact, Jonathan once heard it said that Galen was larger than life in some ways.
Jonthan's attention was drawn away from thoughts of genetics and family resemblances when Anck got a very familiar, very devilish gleam in her dark eyes. Uh-oh. She was up to something. That was nothing unusual. Anck was always up to something, and usually, that meant trouble for one of her two roommates, or Jonathan. She said, casting her eyes into the back of the van, "Ohhhhhh, Celiaaaaaaaaaaaa! How many clown suits does your brother have?"
Celia drew her attention away from the passing scenery, replying, "Uhm. . .one, I think. Why? Did you plan to suggest that Jonathan dress up as a clown?" WHAT????? Anck nodded, and Celia shook her head, saying, "Nah. Galen and I swapped a few emails, and we decided that Jonathan would do some magic tricks for the children, make animal balloons, maybe tell some stories. You know, stick with what he's good at."
Jonathan couldn't decide if that was a compliment or an insult, and instead of asking that question, he chose to ask instead, "So then, who will be the clown?" Personally, he was praying she wouldn't say Evy. He didn't think so. Celia was more sensitive than that, and since she could be just as clumsy, that would have been pot and kettle. Celia raised her chin a little, and Jonathan shuddered. Yes, Celia was more sensitive than that, but she also had a devilish streak.
"Didn't Evy tell you? Mr O'Connell will be. . .the whole costume is waiting for him. The outfit. The huge clown feet. . .and the grease paint," the American girl replied. There was a dead silence in the van. Jonathan looked first at his sister and Celia in the back seat. Despite the distance, he could tell that Celia's eyes were twinkling. Evy was smirking. Anck was falling sideways in her seat, laughing hysterically in the rearview mirror. Then. . .
"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!?!" Jonathan winced at the explosion coming from the passenger beside him. Ohhhhhh, Americans!
. . .
Rick O'Connell was *not* amused. He was not amused by the burst of laughter which greeted his perfectly reasonable question. He was not amused at the way Ardeth's shoulders were shaking, or that his brother closed his eyes tightly. And he sure as hell wasn't amused by the fact that he was volunteered to be a clown, of all things! Ardeth got to ride horses, and Rick was a clown??????
There was absolutely no sense of justice in this trio of girls. None whatsoever. Although, why that surprised him, he wasn't entirely sure. Then he smiled to himself, a smile he *knew* Jonathan Carnahan noticed. He knew that, because the Englishman was looking over at him a bit nervously. Carnahan didn't have anything to worry about, not yet at least. However, his sister, on the other hand. . .
Rick's smile widened as he remembered his conversation with Ardeth just before they left to meet up with the three roommates. More to the point, he remembered Ardeth's reaction to what Rick was carrying in his duffel bag. His brother pointed out, quite rightly, that if they were caught with it in the van, they would be in VERY serious trouble. Rick knew that. He also knew that if they kept the speed down, and didn't attract the attention of the local authorities, there wouldn't be any trouble.
And he told his brother that. Ardeth sighed, then pointed out that the roommates were under the legal age for the consumption of alcohol. Rick knew that, too. If they were caught, he could be charged with. . .something involving the corruption of a minor. However. They would be on private property. Rick wouldn't get the bottle out until it was just the adults (nominal adults, at least, since Altair swore Rick still hadn't grown up. He just smiled and started singing the Toys-R-Us song). No worries.
However, Ardeth worried. It was part and parcel of his job. And unfortunately, he had plenty to worry about, with the latest on Imhotep and his merry band of cutthroats and thieves. Ardeth was particularly concerned by this cousin of Anck Cortez, Meela. Information from Izzy revealed that the girl's name was Meela Nais. Like Anck, she was nineteen years old. . .spent the last five years in Egypt. The Med-jai in Cairo kept an eye on her, because of her affiliation with Lock-nah. Affiliation, shit. . .call it like it was! They were lovers!
From what Rick could piece together, between Ardeth's information and the follow-up from Izzy, there was a falling out between Yolanda Cortez and her sister Paula five years earlier. In the wake of the argument, Paula took her fourteen year old daughter to Egypt, where Paula later died. (Rick didn't ask how Izzy knew all this. . .he didn't think he wanted to know). Apparently, Meela blamed her aunt and cousin for her mother's death, because she was now focused on avenging herself on Anck.
She planned to do this by going after Anck's friend and roommate, namely, the little roommate, Celia Ferguson. Rick thought about that confrontation, and if not for the problems she and her boyfriend caused for Rick's family, he would have actually felt sorry for Meela. The confrontation between her and Celia would not be nearly as one-sided as he was sure Meela thought it would be. That was, of course, assuming Anck didn't kick Meela's ass just for looking at Celia cross-ways.
That was something else Izzy told him, something Rick probably would have figured out on his own eventually. When it came to Celia, Anck defined the term 'overprotective.' He didn't know what happened to make her react so powerfully. Maybe it was just that the little roommate was so. . .well. . .little. Tiny. Seemingly fragile. Rick didn't know, and wasn't so sure if it was a great idea to ask Anck outright.
Instead, he turned his attention back to the insult he was tendered and called back, "I don't see what's so funny. I mean, I'm not clown material at all. . .Ardeth, stop laughing, dammit!" He glowered at his brother, who was trying very hard to stifle his mirth. The younger brother answered something in ancient Egyptian that Rick didn't think he wanted translated.
Especially not when Ardeth's comment sent Evy Carnahan off into fresh spasm of giggles. Hmm. Maybe Ardeth was right, and the alcohol wouldn't be necessary. Well, even if it wasn't necessary for her, Rick was fairly positive that it would be necessary for him, after spending a few days in the loony bin. He liked kids. He really did. He even loved his little sisters. But spending two or three days with a group of children, ranging in age from four to fifteen?
Definitely a recipe for disaster! Rick did a double take, as Evy said something back to Ardeth in the same language. That wasn't the only surprise. Ardeth twisted in his seat to look at Evy, then turned back around. He was blinking in surprise, a definite 'ooookay' expression on his face. And then, he started laughing. Didn't even try to contain himself this time. Oh yeah. Rick really didn't think he wanted a translation.
He wasn't the only one. Anck asked, looking from Rick to Ardeth to Evy, then back at Ardeth, "Ay. . .do I really want to know what either of you just said? And Evy, is this your idea of getting back at Celia when she starts talking to Beni in Hungarian?" Rick looked into the rearview mirror, to see Evy laughing helplessly and shaking her head. To which question, Rick wasn't entirely sure. . .and wasn't sure if he wanted to know, either. Again. He really wished they would quit doing this to him.
"La. . .you do not wish to know, and I am uncertain if I can explain it," Ardeth answered when he could finally stop laughing. That was a shock, in and of itself. There were times when Rick wasn't sure if Ardeth even knew how to laugh. Yeah, he had that warped sense of humor, and a mischievous streak a mile wide. But he rarely laughed. . . yet, here were these girls, making him laugh. They just met him, for Gawd's sake!
"Then I will accept that answer. So tell me, Ardeth Bey, how many languages do you speak?" Anck asked. It took Rick a moment to switch gears, although, maybe he should have seen that one coming. There was Ardeth and Evelyn speaking ancient Egyptian as if it was Spanish or English, rather than a dead language. Anck asking if that incident was to get back at Celia for talking to Rick's little buddy, the turncoat Beni, in Hungarian. And Ardeth intermingling his Arabic with his English, which wasn't unusual with him. He was thinking in two different languages, after all.
"Fluently or somewhat fluently?" Ardeth asked. Rick resisted the temptation to bop his brother upside the head. In the first place, he gave his brother too many headaches. In the second, he didn't want to reach back that far. It might mess up his arm and shoulder. He settled, instead, for his nastiest glare. Of course, that didn't phase Ardeth one bit. Did it ever? Rick discovered, quite to his shock, that he would be worried if his glare did phase his brother.
"Either one, both. . ." came the response from the very back, and the little roommate. She paused, then added, "Of course, Ardeth, if it would make you feel better, we could all tell what languages we speak. I'm not sure about Mr O'Connell, but I think everyone in this mini-van is bilingual." Rick frowned. So he was 'Mr O'Connell,' and his brother was 'Ardeth,' then? Why? Was he wrong about her. . .was she just like other girls, trying to be coy? Nah. That didn't feel right. It was possible that he was reading her wrong, but he didn't think so.
"Only if you wish to do so," came his brother's answer. Rick rolled his eyes. So much for the assertion that chivalry was dead. Unfortunately, in spite of himself, Rick knew that he wasn't much better than Ardeth in that respect. He really, *really* hated to admit it. . .but it was true. Ardeth continued, "I speak Arabic, of course, and a language known only to my people. It dates back many thousands of years, to when a secret code was needed to fulfill their duties as Pharaoh's bodyguards. Ancient Egyptian, English, and a smattering of European languages."
"What he means," Rick said, ignoring his brother's warning glare, "is that he's also fluent in Greek, courtesy of his mother. Thanks to the tourists coming to Egypt (who made his life a living hell, though Rick didn't mention that part), my brother can converse in Spanish, German, and Italian. He can also curse quite fluently in several Arab dialects. Always out of the hearing of his mother, naturally."
Rick laughed as Anck answered, "Oh, of course." The American studiously ignored the glare he was currently receiving from Ardeth. Was he thinking earlier that it would be a bad thing, having a crazy weekend? Hell no! Getting under Evelyn Carnahan's skin, teasing his brother, clowning around. . .this was gonna be a great weekend! Just as long as he didn't find Celia Ferguson's hands anywhere they didn't belong on his brother's body!
. . .
He was up to something. Something more than getting Evelyn Carnahan drunk, just to see if he could. Ardeth knew his brother, even better than Rick knew him. He knew when Rick was up to something, he knew when his brother was in trouble, and he knew when that trouble would involve him as well. This was one time when trouble would also involve him, and all Ardeth could do was pray no one got hurt.
Still, the young chieftain couldn't deny that he was already enjoying himself. He was concerned by what Rick told him about Beni Gabor, snooping around in their apartment. That actually concerned him more than he would acknowledge to Rick. When he was being truly honest with himself, it frightened him. Lock-nah hired Beni because he realized there was a connection to the three roommates.
And while Rick forgot about the danger Lock-nah posed to anyone who crossed him, Ardeth did not. He would have a word with one of his new allies. Perhaps Izzy Buttons, who was always more forthcoming about information when Ardeth spoke to him than he was with Rick. Izzy Buttons. He had to admit, it did suit the man far better than his actual name. Perhaps Izzy would know someone who could protect Beni Gabor's small daughter and her mother. They would need all the help they could get, if Lock-nah realized Beni was playing both sides.
Monday. He would deal with that Monday. Ardeth originally volunteered for this weekend, because it gave him a connection, however tenuous, to his two baby sisters. But now, he was having fun. He enjoyed his brother's antics, as well as listening to the banter between the three roommates. Ardeth was still uncertain about Jonathan Carnahan, but hoped to get to know him better. At the very least, as a loving older brother, he could be an ally of some kind, if only to protect the three girls.
The three girls. Why was it so very important to him, to protect them? Why was it especially important to him to protect Celia? He didn't understand it. How could he care so deeply for someone he just met? Yes, she was pretty in an understated way. And yes, she had a great deal of strength and quiet courage (though not so quiet when it came to defending someone she cared about). But Ardeth knew other women like that.
What was it about *her,* then, that made him so determined to keep her from harm? To the point that it was a matter of honor for him, a matter of. . .well, yes. Honor was the best way to put it. But it was more than that. More than honor, more than duty, more than principle. She touched him in a strange way. Ardeth told himself many, many times that he couldn't get involved with her, and he maintained that even now, when she was patently already involved, by virtue of her friendship with Anck.
But he still enjoyed talking with her. He enjoyed hearing the odd things that drew her attention, and forced him to look at things in a totally different way. She. . .yes. She challenged him, without being challenging. She threw down no gauntlet, never tried to impress him with her brilliance or wisdom or bravery. She simply did, simply was, and that drew Ardeth to her.
She was honest. Brutally honest, he sensed. If there was any deception in her, it was her habit of thinking herself somehow less than other people. She was blind to her own strength, to her own intelligence, to her own beauty. Beauty? Yes. Her beauty lay not in the fairness of her face, but in her strength, determination, intelligence, and compassion. Celia stood up to Rick for Beni Gabor, and she and her roommates stood up to Henderson and Daniels for Ardeth and Rick.
Which left Ardeth with one helluva mess, as Rick would have said. As his mind wandered, the young chieftain came to a conclusion that rocked his very soul. He was drawn to Celia. Indeed, if he spent too much time with her, it would be entirely too easy to let his guard down with her. That would be a disaster, for everyone involved, for a variety of reasons.
There was also Anck. Ardeth held no illusions about Anck Cortez. She offered to keep the college-age man-eaters away from him.But Ardeth knew she would turn on him if something happened to Celia while she was with him. Yes, it was best to keep things strictly platonic. And it was possible, was it not? Ardeth didn't know. He spent very little time with females not of his family. Acacia and Aleta thought he didn't know, but Ardeth's baby sisters told him that the two oldest sisters screened the eligible females in the twelve tribes. According to the little girls, Acacia and Aleta wanted to make sure only the very bestest girl was permitted to marry Ardeth.
He smiled to himself. Even as he did his best by his people, his sisters sought to take care of him. All four of them. Acacia and Aleta. . .what was the phrase Rick often used? Oh yes. They often ran interference for him. His two youngest sisters were known to serve him breakfast in bed. They were often the only people who were up before Ardeth was, and took it upon themselves to make sure he ate.
So odd, that two such tiny individuals could be so terribly protective of someone who was so much bigger than they were. It was Ardeth's job to take care of them, but they were just as determined to take care of *him.* And regardless of what his brother said, Ardeth did not consider Celia tiny. She was small, yes. Petite, yes. But not tiny. 'Tiny' was a word he associated with his two baby sisters.
Whom, he admitted without hesitation, he missed most desperately. Ardeth closed his eyes, closing out the continuing banter around him as he thought about his baby sisters. Looking back, Ardeth remembered that his brother Andreas had a far more difficult time with their mother's second marriage than Ardeth did. Andreas didn't always think first. . .and sometimes, he didn't think at all. Were it up to him, their mother would have mourned their father for the rest of her life, quietly fading away into nothing.
Ardeth could never truly be sure what hurt his heart more. . .the loss of his father or his mother's anguish. It hurt, seeing his mother in such pain. Papa was gone. He wouldn't come back. And he often encouraged young widows to marry again, once their hearts were healed. He would tell them that they were young and had their entire life in front of them. The Med-jai lost a great warrior (or healer or scholar) in her husband, they had no wish to bury her as well.
Ardeth was eight years old the first time he heard his father counsel a young widow. Papa wasn't just Ardeth, Andreas, Acacia, Aleta, and Anatol's father. In some ways, he was a father to many fatherless young people. Such was the case of this young widow, whose own father died in battle when she was very small. After assuring the young woman that she was not dishonoring the memory of her husband, if she fell in love again, Suleiman looked at his small son and asked softly, "You wish to know why I said that, Ardeth. . .why I said what I did about her remarriage?"
Ardeth, who cherished every bit of attention he received from his adored father, nodded. It really wasn't important to him. He was eight years old, and he wasn't in the least bit interested in girls, unless it was ways to torment his two sisters. After all, that was what sisters were for, were they not? Tormenting and protecting?
Suleiman explained, "Because her heart is too big to love just one person, my son. I have known her since. . .well, since before she was even born! I watched her grow up. I was there when her father died, and when she married. She has so much love to give. The truly fortunate ones, Ardeth, are those people who can love many. People like your mother. Imagine. . .your mother has five children to love, in addition to her husband. . . and she gives her love freely to others. But even more fortunate are the ones whom they love. People like us."
Suleiman smiled then and gently ruffled his black hair, adding, "You do not understand. But you will, son. I promise. One day, you will." And his father was right. Fifteen years later, Ardeth *did* understand. Just as he understood now that his father was glad of his mother's remarriage; in fact, Suleiman wanted Altair to remarry, if anything ever happened to him.
His father would have also been pleased about the babies, though they were not his. And he would have understood that Ardeth took his role as older brother very seriously. He always understood, in a way Ardeth's mother didn't. A few weeks ago, for example, just after the attacks against his two sisters, Ardeth encountered his mother while he was checking on the babies. He tried to move around her, unable to look her in the eye. He failed her. He failed them all. But his mother put her hands on his arms, whispering, "Stop. Please, my son. You must stop blaming yourself. I do not blame you. Nathaniel does not blame you. The little ones do not blame you."
She cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. Once his eyes met hers, Altair O'Connell said quietly, "Andreas was always irresponsible, while you always took too much responsibility, as if you were trying to restore the balance. But in so doing, you sacrificed your own balance. You cannot be all things to all people, Ardeth. Nor could your father. Just as your father could not have prevented the attack against my angels. No one could have." Ardeth didn't believe that. But his mother did.
She sighed, "When your father died, I thought my life was over. He was my life, from the time I was seventeen. He, and you children. And then I met Nathaniel. To love two such wonderful men in a lifetime? Nothing short of a miracle. And then. . .there were my babies. My two blessings. But all of my children are blessings, Ardeth. Even your step- brother. Please, my son. It is time we took some of the responsibility back. Find your balance when you go to America. Even as you seek justice for the babies. . .find your own balance."
Find your balance. His mother wanted Ardeth to remember he was not just a warrior, not just a chieftain, but a man. That was what this weekend was about. Not just about spending time with children, though that was part of it. If he learned anything about himself during the last few weeks it was that. . .that he was so damnably lonely. And that, more than anything, made him vulnerable.
. . .
His sister was due to arrive any moment, but that wasn't the real reason Dr Galen Ferguson was out here, staring up at the huge house. It was one of two that the Ferguson children inherited from their grandparents. There was also the house in Chicago proper, but this house was special. This was the house where Thomas and Annabelle, his grandparents, raised their family. It was an old house, built in the late 1950's. But it was built Victorian style. A big, sprawling house, perfect for raising your family.
And for youngsters who were on the outside looking in. It was something Galen noticed two years earlier, after Jason's brush with death. He was the center of attention, of course. . .and people forgot there were two other children affected by the entire situation. Yes, Celia was seventeen at the time, and Galen was hardly a child. But Jason was not the only one affected. Celia and Galen almost lost their brother.
Remembering that, Galen started paying more attention to the siblings of his patients. They were often neglected. . .not in practical terms, but in emotional terms. He couldn't do anything about the rest of the year, but at the very least, he could give them a weekend when they were the center of attention. And interfering in family matters wasn't Galen's style. He was well aware that parents had to make the sick/hurt child their first priority. And he did his best to make the child well, so things would normalize in the household.
But this was something he could do, something he wanted to do. . .and something both the parents and the siblings loved him for. The parents were often miserably aware that their other children still needed them, and were grateful for Galen's aid. They thanked him in any way they could, but the only thanks he really needed was the smiles from the children. That made it all worthwhile.
And he owed his sister big time for this. She really came through for him. Celia always helped out. . .well, she helped out both the previous year and now this weekend. But this year was special. This year, his closest friend Mathayus was out of the picture for the horseback riding. Matt didn't say much about his illness. . .injury. . .whatever it was. Just said that he couldn't do that if he wanted to live through this.
However, within twenty-four hours of her return to the university for the fall term, Celia had a replacement for Matt, along with a clown. Galen knew it wasn't Jonathan Carnahan, because while the English professor often was comical, he was far better suited to entertain the children with his magic tricks and his stories. Galen heard the smile in Celia's voice as she told him that she had just the person to dress up in the clown suit. There was a story there, Galen knew, and he couldn't wait to hear it.
He also couldn't want to talk to Celia about a few things she forgot to mention to him. First, exactly whom this 'Ardeth Bey' was, who was replacing Matt as the rider, and what exactly he meant to her. And secondly, he wanted to know just what the hell she was thinking this summer. His little sister wasn't nearly as good about keeping secrets as she thought. One of Galen's friends at the warehouse where Celia worked over the summer called him the previous week, while Celia was packing to go back to school, and told him about Neil Grady.
Galen was furious with his sister at first. Not for her mistakes in dealing with the fork truck driver, but for never telling Galen about it. He was her big brother, it was his job to protect her and Jason. He couldn't always do that. Galen *knew* that. Celia was nineteen, no longer a child. No longer the two year old child whom Galen protected when those men tried to kidnap them. She was on her way to becoming one helluva woman. Whether she realized it or not, Galen knew that. But it made him no less determined to protect her, to take care of her.
Just as she tried to protect those around her. Another case in point. . .her plea to the guys to back down, when the managers refused to take action against Neil Grady. She knew that if the guys pushed things any further, the managers would have retaliated against them. Maybe she didn't know that, but she did knew there would be consequences of some sort. There were always consequences.
Yes, Galen wanted to stay angry with his sister for shutting him out, but he just didn't have the heart to stay angry for long. Not when his sister was trying to protect him, and a lot of other people. His baby sister was far stronger than she knew. He realized that the year earlier, when he and his parents pushed her too far. In their defense, he had to acknowledge that until then, Celia never stood up to them. Never asserted herself, never really behaved as an individual. Maybe, though, that was where they made their mistakes. All of them. Maybe she was behaving like an individual all along, and they just weren't paying attention.
Yeah. That sounded about right. People didn't just change overnight. There were always clues, if you knew where to look. Gran probably noticed. Gran always noticed. She claimed not to play favorites, but Galen long suspected that his sister was their grandmother's favorite. Gran had a special relationship with Celia. He wanted to resent his sister for it, but how could he? Galen was their mother's favorite child. Jason was their father's favorite child. Yes, their parents loved all three of them. But they had favorites.
Given that truth, what gave him the right to resent Celia? Shouldn't she be someone's favorite as well? When they were younger, Galen often told Celia that she was his favorite sister. With all the logic of an eight, nine, or ten year old, she would point out to him that she was his *only* sister. Just as Jason was his only brother. How could she be his favorite sister, when she was the only sister he had?
Yes. She *was* his only sister. She was so much younger than he was, and she kept a secret from him because she knew how he would react. She was a decade younger than he was, and she was trying to protect him from Neil Grady, from himself. But Galen wasn't about to let Neil Grady get away with hurting his little sister. He thought briefly about telling Jason the whole story, then thought the better of it. Jason was only fourteen. He would deal with the Neil Gradys of the world soon enough.
And as Jonathan Carnahan's van came into sight, Galen realized he was glad he talked to Grady on his own. It wasn't much of a conversation, really. Not a verbal conversation. It was more like a fist-to-gut talk. Galen was a doctor, committed to easing the pain of terminally ill children and saving the lives of those children he could. But he was also a big brother, and that scumbag hurt his baby sister. Badly.
And because of that fact, Galen wanted to hurt Neil Grady. He wanted to hurt Neil Grady just as badly as Grady hurt Celia. Galen's sister wouldn't talk about the incident, but Galen knew her. Grady's betrayal left a deep wound in her soul. Never the most trusting girl, that incident would also affect her trust. Would make it more difficult for a good man to gain admittance to his sister's heart.
And there were good men out there. Somewhere out there, a man existed who could take good care of Celia, and who was man enough to let her take care of him. Somewhere out there, a man existed who could make her smile, and who could hold his own in a conversation with her. Somewhere out there, a man existed who would see his sister's true value. And if that man was wise, he would never let her go.
Neil Grady wasn't good enough for his sister. Not because he was a fork truck driver and Celia was the daughter of privilege. Not because he barely graduated from high school and Galern's sister would probably have her doctorate by the time she was twenty-five. No. None of that was true. Neil Grady wasn't good enough for Celia, because he was afraid of her. He was afraid of her, and because of that fear, he tried to ruin her life. He didn't succeed, because Celia was stronger than he was.
Galen resolved to tell his sister that. If she didn't already know, it was time she found out. It was time she realized that Neil Grady wasn't a man, but an overgrown child in the body of a man. It was time she accepted that whatever her mistakes were, her mistakes were born of inexperience, rather than malice. And if he had to beat up that sorry pile of horse manure again, well, there were worse sacrifices to be made for someone you loved.
. . .
Oddly enough, that was the same thing Beni Gabor was thinking right now. No matter how he tried to slice it, Beni knew that he was betraying his three ladies by spying on them for Lock-nah. On the other hand, he was double-crossing Lock-nah because of O'Connell. And even if O'Connell didn't think about the way this would affect Beni's family, the janitor could think of nothing else.
He originally took the job because he needed the money. With the money he would receive from finding out what he could about the connection between O'Connell and his brother, and the three roommates, Beni could make a new life for himself, for Renee, for Ceci. In the beginning, he only thought about what he could do. In those first few days, he really didn't think about the impact of what he was doing.
There was the understanding, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he might have made a deal with the devil himself. Lock-nah frightened Beni, in a way only one other person ever did. That one other person being Anck-su-namun Cortez. But the young man forced himself to concentrate on what he could do with the money he would earn with this job, instead of on his fears and his unease. At least, he could do that in the beginning. He could pretend that he was overreacting.
Until Rick O'Connell caught him in the apartment he shared with his stepbrother, and the resulting confrontation reminded Beni of things he didn't want to think about. For one thing, he was doing something illegal. O'Connell would be well within his rights to turn him over to the police. And that would *not* be a good thing. So. . .he really had no choice, other than to cooperate with O'Connell. Not if he wanted to stay out of jail.
For another thing, he didn't trust Lock-nah. Beni knew himself to be a weasel, but one thing about being a weasel. You could find out all sorts of things, having friends in low places. One such friend told Beni that Lock-nah bragged about threatening two little girls. This friend didn't know the exact details, but Beni didn't need to hear any more. He only needed to know that one thing.
What kind of man threatened a child? What kind of man bragged about threatening a child? The kind of man with whom Beni now found himself associated, and worse yet, he now walked a very fine line indeed. By double-crossing Lock-nah, and feeding him misinformation, Beni feared he would bring that man's wrath down upon his head. Perhaps it would be better to double-cross O'Connell yet again.
O'Connell had no trouble with hurting Beni, and Beni *knew* that. But he would never harm a child. It just wasn't in him. Lock-nah was a different matter. Beni would have said to hell with the deal he made with O'Connell, except for a few things. First, he betrayed O'Connell years earlier, and it wasn't a stretch to say that betrayal might have cost O'Connell his life. For another, he had the sick feeling that if he gave his allegiance to Lock-nah fully, he would end up betraying someone else.
And lastly, O'Connell might hate him, but he would agree to work with Beni to protect Beni's ladies. . .his Renee and his Ceci. At the moment, O'Connell was out of town, and it was for that reason that Beni was leaving his haunt inside the dormitory. If he wanted to protect his family, he would need more allies than just O'Connell and his stepbrother. The trouble was, he wasn't sure where to find those allies.
As he walked, he mentally ran through what he learned while he was in the apartment. There was little about the connection between the roommates and the brothers; however, mention was made about Dr Terrence Bey, Ardeth's uncle. Beni thought he might be a good place to start. Maybe Dr Bey would understand about protecting family.
At the same time, he kept a careful eye out for Lock-nah, or any of his other henchmen, for that matter. Or henchwomen, as the case may be. Beni agreed to give him misinformation, fed to him by O'Connell, but he really didn't want to deal with him today. Fortunately, he reached that building without incident. The man was working late. . .according to his students, he had late office hours. That wasn't terribly unusual in the early days of the semester, but he kept those hours all semester-long. He was brusque and not particularly patient, but supposedly, he was there for his students.
It was almost five pm now, and most classes were over. There were no such things as Friday night classes. That made Beni very suspicious of Dr Bey. What was he up to, that he would be staying so late? Everyone went home for the weekend, or were otherwise occupied. None of the other teachers were still here. For the first time, Beni wondered if he did the right thing morally in agreeing to help O'Connell. All right. . . 'agreeing' was an overstatement, but it was the principle of the thing.
What if O'Connell was the one who was involved in illegal activities? He wanted to believe that. He wanted to believe that was the case, and that he would be justified in betraying O'Connell again. After all, the world was rarely black and white. Beni stood in the middle of the hall, swinging from one decision to the other, about the way Renee's emotions did when she was dealing with the Curse.
But Beni's gut said otherwise. Was O'Connell capable of doing something shady, even illegal? Hell yes! But did Beni think that was the case? With a sigh, he realized the answer to that was a big, fat 'no.' Not this time. And even if it was illegal, it probably wasn't immoral, or even unethical. Whether Rick O'Connell liked to admit it or not, whether he would acknowledge it or not, he was a protector. Not a predator.
And that, Beni realized, was the source of his unease where Lock-nah was concerned. The man was a predator, and worse, Beni sensed he enjoyed causing pain. Not a man whom he wanted as an enemy. . .not a man he wanted as an ally, either. So what was he to do, hmm? Betray his friends, and lose their friendship forever? As he did with O'Connell? Or betray Lock- nah, and risk the lives of those whom he loved most?
The logical thing to do was betray O'Connell. He knew that. He knew that even if he betrayed O'Connell again, the other man would do whatever he could to protect Ceci and Renee. He knew the same was true of his friend Cecelia. The logical thing was to betray them. But as Beni started to turn away, another voice whispered, "Renee and Ceci will only be in danger if Lock-nah finds out that you have lied. Make sure he does not know, and they will be safe."
Yes. . .that would work. He was good at lying, after all. This was something Beni could do. He turned and headed toward Dr Bey's office once more. He rapped lightly on the door when he saw the man's head bent over his work. Dr Bey looked up and motioned him into the office with a puzzled frown. Beni said, slipping inside the room and closing the door behind him, "I can help you to protect your nephew."
Terrence Bey was a cool customer. He answered, "Protect my nephew? I'm sure I know nothing about this." But Beni hadn't come all this way to stop now. He glanced over his shoulder, making sure no one was in the viscinity, then stepped closer to the desk. The young man prayed he had the strength and the courage to carry this through. Then he remembered hearing that Lock-nah bragged about threatening a little girl. . .or worse. And his nerves settled.
He took two steps forward, until he was standing directly in front of the other man's desk, and stared at him steadily. A trick he learned from O'Connell.
"Do not play games with me, Dr Bey. I know that you are Ardeth Bey's uncle. I know that Rick O'Connell is his step-brother. And I know that they are here to do more than simply be a security guard and a teaching assistant. I know this, because I was recruited by a man named 'Lock-nah' to find out the connection between your nephew and three young women who live on my hall. Celia Ferguson, Anck-su-namun Cortez, and Evelyn Carnahan," Beni replied.
Dr Bey looked at him a moment longer, then said quietly, "Sit down. Tell me what possible connection there is between my nephew and those three girls." Beni smiled in satisfaction. He could only hope and pray that this didn't blow up in his face. Maybe, if he was very, very lucky, and very, very good, he could not only make it out of this alive and keep his ladies alive, but he could end up as a hero as well!
. . .
By the time the van pulled up at the end of the driveway, and in front of the house where they would all be staying for the next few days, everyone was ready. The three teenagers were getting cranky, Rick and Ardeth's legs were cramping up, and Jonathan was at his wits end with all five of them. He told them, quite bluntly, that the next time, O'Connell could sit in the very back.
That young man just smiled impishly, knowing that he drove Jonathan crazy. And taking no small amount of pleasure in it. He was good at it, and he knew it. People like that made Jonathan crazy, just by being, and they made him even crazier by taking such pleasure in it. Not that he really had time to tell O'Connell this, because only seconds after everyone tumbled from the van (in Celia's case, literally tumbling out of the van), Celia's older brother swooped down on them, arms opened wide.
Jonathan ducked out of the way, having an version to bear hugs. Then he felt somewhat slighted, because Galen didn't even try to hug him. Instead, he scooped his sister into his arms and spun her around, to the accompaniment of her delighted laughter. Well, fine, be that way! Jonathan noticed Rick O'Connell grinning at him, and demanded, "And just what do you find so funny?"
"Sour grapes," was all O'Connell would say as Galen put Celia back on her feet, then moved on to Evy. He scooped her in an equally powerful hug, then finally hugged Anck. Jonathan liked to flirt with Anck, sometimes just to irritate Evy. But he was more than a little jealous when Galen pretended to kiss the side of Anck's neck. . .as if they were a couple. They weren't. He knew that. Anck spent the time before the arrival of the brothers mooning over some new professor, Tepper.
"Now, little sister, I know these beautiful ladies, and I know Jonathan. Hey Jon. But please introduce these two gentlemen," Galen requested, putting his arm around his sister once more. He was a very demonstrative, very affectionate man. When he wasn't hugging or kissing his sister, he was ruffling her hair, which usually led to a mock-battle between the pair. In some ways, their antics reminded Jonathan of his own son, eight year old Alex. He *hated* having his hair ruffled. By anyone.
"Ardeth Bey and his step-brother, Rick O'Connell. Ardeth will be taking care of the horseback riding, and O'Connell was the one I told you about. . .a natural for the clown," Celia replied. Jonathan hid his grin at O'Connell and his obvious consternation. Galen looked at the younger American male with a judicious eye, then nodded his approval. Celia continued, "Ardeth, Mr O'Connell, this is my older brother, Dr Galen Ferguson."
Jonathan didn't miss the fact that she called one brother by his given name, and the other 'Mr.' It didn't escape her brother's notice, either, and two dark brows shot straight up into equally dark hair. Galen looked at Ardeth more closely as he shook the young man's hand, and said, "Well, I thank both of you for coming this weekend. It'll mean a lot to the kids. My best friend has either fallen ill or been injured. Or something I don't wanna know about."
He paused, winked at Ardeth, then added, "Maybe it's just as well. Mathayus. . . Matt. . . is Celia's partner in crime when she isn't around these two. I might just avoid some gray hairs this time around. . .oof." This was in response to Celia mock-punching him in the ribs. Well, if nothing else, being around the Ferguson siblings was always entertaining. On the other hand, he knew there was far more to this trio of brothers and sister than mere entertainment.
"It's your own fault, brother dear, for introducing me to Matt. It's not my fault if I have a better imagination for pranks than you do," Celia replied, affecting a nonchalant air, which lasted all of two seconds. Right up until the time her brother started tickling her. She squealed at that, and twisted away from her brother, still laughing. Galen advanced on her, fingers still waggling threateningly.
The impromptu comedy act would have continued indefinitely. Jonathan knew that. He saw these two in action before. But a squeal from the house drew everyone's attention. Galen swore ripely and broke off his tickle attack, running toward the source of the. . .scream? Shriek? Squeal? Celia was at his heels, reminding Jonathan that she could move very quickly indeed. In fact, she seemed to be moving faster than the last time he saw her move at full speed. He wondered what happened.
And even that question was pushed aside. . .along with him. . .as the others followed the siblings toward the house. The front door was thrown open and a little girl charged out, heading straight for either the doctor or Celia, wailing. Strangely enough, Celia reached her first, catching her in a fierce embrace. The little girl sobbed helplessly into the college student's shoulder as Galen dropped to one knee beside the pair. He put one hand on the back of Celia's neck and began rubbing the little girl's back with his other hand. The others formed a small semi-circle around the trio almost protectively.
They were joined a moment later by Ardeth, who knelt on the other side of Celia, his hand gently cradling the back of the little girl's skull. At last, the sobs eased and the little girl began to speak. Jonathan couldn't understand a word she said. None of it. But Celia obviously did, and just as obviously, so did her brother and Ardeth. Jonathan saw her look up at her brother with a worried look. This didn't look good. Not in the least.
Galen said softly, "It's okay, honey. I'll see what I can find out. Cele, you got her?" His younger sister nodded, carefully lifting the child onto her hip. Ardeth moved with her, and Galen continued, "Livvy, honey, this is Ardeth. . .Celia's new friend. He'll be taking you all on the horses this weekend. Matt couldn't come, so Ardeth volunteered to take his place instead." The child named 'Livvy' hiccuped and lifted a tear-stained little face from Celia's shoulder to peek at Ardeth shyly.
And that young man offered her a hesitant, tentative smile. He was bent slightly at the waist. . .perhaps to make himself less intimidating to the little girl. Although, Jonathan didn't see how that was possible. The other young man's long black hair was pulled away from his face during the drive to the house, and he was dressed in faded blue jeans and a white t- shirt. The white t-shirt probably wasn't the best idea, but Jonathan could appreciate the attempt.
Even so, there was the matter of his tattoos and Ardeth's solemnity. Jonathan found the quiet young man to be rather intimidating, and he knew from listening to the conversations in the car that Ardeth was younger than he was. However, children often surprised one. And even with an eight year old son of his own, Jonathan still didn't know exactly what to expect out of little ones. Livvy, who was no more than four or five, reached out a tiny hand and touched a tattoo on Ardeth's face, breathing, "Oooh. Did that hurt?"
Ardeth froze a little, then relaxed as Livvy traced the tattoos. Jonathan glanced away from the young man briefly, to look at the reactions of the others, then his attention was drawn back to Ardeth. The young man replied seriously, "It hurt when they were added. . .but that was many years ago. My name is Ardeth, as Galen told you. And your name is. . .Olivia?" The little girl nodded with a delighted grin, and Ardeth continued, "It is my pleasure to meet you. May I carry you? Celia must carry her bags inside and put them in her room for this weekend."
Jonathan privately thought that if Ardeth was a true gentleman, he would have offered to carry the bags. He re-thought that a moment later, when he realized that Livvy was probably heavier than the bags. Livvy thought about this for a long moment, looking from Celia to Ardeth, and back again. Celia said softly, "You know, honey, I'll be here the whole weekend. My feelings won't be hurt if you let Ardeth carry you."
"Promise?" Livvy asked and Celia nodded, smiling. Livvy needed no more time to think about it. She held her arms out to Ardeth, almost imperiously. The other young man smiled and accepted the child, nestling her on his hip to gain better stability, then shifted her to sit atop his shoulders. Livvy squealed with delight, prompting Ardeth to laugh as well. He went inside the house, carefully ducking down so Livvy wouldn't hit her head. Hmm. It would seem Jonathan misjudged him. Did Ardeth have a great deal of contact with small children?
He would have asked, but this didn't seem to be the time or the place. Even O'Connell, who had embryonic sensitivity at best, Jonathan would have said, was solemn. In fact, as he watched his brother go inside with Livvy, his face almost seemed stricken. Hmm. There was a story there, or his name wasn't Jonathan Carnahan! What was more, he would find out that story! But for now, he looked at their small hostess and her brother. . .the organizers of this strange little party.
Celia folded her arms over her chest, watching them go with a serious expression. Once Ardeth and Livvy were safely inside, she turned to her brother, asking in a soft voice, "This doesn't sound good, does it?" Galen shook his head, numbly heading back to the van to start unloading the bags. Celia followed, along with Jonathan, Anck, Evy, and O'Connell. In a low voice, she said softly, "Livvy's older brother is dying. At this point, all they can do is make him comfortable. Unfortunately, there's another problem."
She sighed, then added, "From what I could gather from Livvy, her father has been arrested. She doesn't know the details, and the details she does know are confused. Once Ardeth settles her down, and we're settled in, I'll call the hospital and see if I can talk to Livvy's mother. . .honestly, how much is one family supposed to take?" She shook her head, eyes reflecting sadness and frustration.
"Well. . .we can't do anything about Livvy's father or brother. But we can do something for Livvy. That's why we're here, after all," Rick O'Connell said quietly. The others looked at him, as he added, "Let's make sure Livvy has some good memories to take away some of the pain." The pall cast over the small group by the drama dissipated like fog in the afternoon sun. He was right. . .they were here. They would make this a memorable weekend! For everyone!
It wouldn't have surprised him to know that by the end of that weekend, blackmail would be obtained on all five young people. But what would surprise him was the sort of bonds about to be established.
