"You are not going alone, Spector!"
Marc met the enraged, dark eyes of his wife, took in the set features, the steep line that spoke of an anger he shouldn't be stoking any further, and there was quite a menacing air around Layla El-Faouly that rivalled any god he had ever encountered.
"Layla…"
She raised a hand. "No. Don't. Not a single word as to how dangerous it might be, how you would need to protect me."
He rocked back a little.
"Do I have to remind you of all the times before? Before I even knew you were the avatar of an ancient Egyptian god? The time that we were in a lot of shit together? That I've lived a life of danger after you just up and left?"
"No. I know you're more than capable with a gun or a knife, but…"
"No," she interrupted him again.
"Layla! This is more serious than some armed to their teeth grave-robbers!"
"I know that!" she retorted. "Which is why I'm going along."
"Apophis is a demon-god!" he argued. "His avatar was more than capable of taking the Moon Knight out of the equation! They wounded Khonshu, damnit!"
Just saying it burned like acid through his soul and he felt Steven's silent support, but it was heavily interlaced with agreeing with Layla, too.
We could use her help…
He refused to answer that statement.
"Which is why all of you, including Big Bird, really need all the help they can find, Spector!" she yelled back. "And don't tell me Steven doesn't agree!"
Well, I do, Layla dear…
Marc glared, both at his alter and at his wife. Layla just grimly met that furious stare with one of her own.
"You are not an avatar!"
"I noticed!" Layla just crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Being an avatar didn't save you from getting your ass kicked!"
"That's not…"
"Oh really?" she interrupted, her expression both a challenge and reflecting murderous intent.
She actually has a point.
Marc snarled wordlessly. He looked at the moon god who was standing behind her, watching. "Well?" he demanded. "Aren't you going to chip in?"
"No."
His eyebrows shot up and Marc glared daggers at his god.
"I will not stop her," Khonshu simply said.
Layla looked close to smug.
"Coward!"
"I do not enter battles I cannot hope to win," the moon god added acerbically.
"I can't protect her from Apophis!" Marc yelled.
"Are you even listening to yourself?!" Layla exclaimed. "I don't need protecting!" she told him, firmly and no-nonsense. "You do, though! I'm going with you, like it or not!"
Marc closed his eyes, hands balled up into tight fists. "Layla…" His knuckles stood out white against his skin.
She was suddenly there, right in front of him, and took one of the fists. Marc opened his eyes and looked at her, saw the conviction, the determination, and her love. He opened the clenched hand and interlaced their fingers, then pulled her into a tight hug.
"I don't want… if she… or if he hurts you…"
"I'm not going to say he or she won't, but I'm not a porcelain doll. I can handle myself," she whispered sharply, voice a little muffled against his shoulder. "Like Steven and you can handle yourself, too. I'll be there. I want to be there. This time you won't be alone!"
The kiss was soft, barely even a kiss, and he rested his head against hers.
Marc knew she would go, whether with him or alone. He couldn't and he wouldn't stop her, even if he had argued, had tried.
"I'm never alone," he said softly.
She almost rolled her eyes. "And that worked so well the last time, right?" She gestured at the moon god. "He was clawed at or whatever happened! We're talking about a deity with considerable power here! More powerful than Khonshu!"
Khonshu rumbled, briefly looking anywhere but the woman who had reminded him of his failure.
Marc groaned. "Layla… if she hurts you… if he hurts you…"
"I don't think either of them will."
"Let her come," Khonshu huffed. "She might be useful."
Layla shot him a warning look. "Stop with the condescending! You'll need me to get you into the Saqqara sites if you want more than the tourist tours. I have the connections to get you into any place."
"I know you do." Marc's indecision was clearly churning through him.
She can handle herself quite well, Steven piped up. She'll be fine, Marc. Trust her. And trust us to protect her if we need to.
Layla's eyebrows rose a little. "Steven being the voice of reason?" she hazarded a guess.
Marc muttered something uncomplimentary.
"Pack your bags, love," she continued with an almost blithe tone to her voice. "I'll get us the stuff we need."
With a quick kiss she walked out the door.
Marc groaned loudly and scrubbed a hand over his face. "That went well." He looked up at Khonshu, eyes narrowed. "And you were no help!"
"Did you need my help with your wife?" he asked pointedly and with a lot of sarcasm.
"I needed you to agree with me that it's too dangerous!"
"Would that have stopped the little bug?"
Marc opened his mouth, then snapped it shut again. "I hate you," he grumbled.
There was a warm, gentle wave that was almost like a hug. "Of course you do," Khonshu agreed, amusement in his voice. "And you should trust your mate, Marc Spector. She is a capable woman."
He blinked. "Whoa. That's… a compliment? From you?"
"She will be able to handle herself and she is an asset. It will be useful to have her along, since you were the one who insisted to seek out Apophis' avatar."
"Oh, great!" He threw up his hands. "Wonderful! I get the blame! And it was Steven's idea! And you agreed!"
Khonshu was right in front of him. "I do not blame you, my soul-bound. I did agree, yes. I will go wherever you go. As does Layla El-Faouly."
Marc shook his head, but he didn't mind the warmth winding around his spine, telling him that he wouldn't be alone in this and that Khonshu would do whatever was in his power to protect Layla, too. She wasn't an avatar, but she was part of this, of them. She was important.
"Thank you," he whispered.
"I will always protect you," Khonshu repeated his age-old vow, his voice echoing through Marc's soul. "And I will protect what is yours."
He gave the tall figure a startled look.
"She is important," the deity added. "To you. To us."
She was. Layla was very important to him. And… to Khonhsu.
"The three," he murmured.
Khonshu inclined his head.
Not just a base of power. It was an emotional, personal connection that made them who and what they were. It was their strength. Marc felt all that through the bond, not in words, not in images, just a general understanding of the meaning. It was something he still needed to get used to, but it was getting easier.
"I believe you should pack your things."
The moon god walked past him, brushing by so close, the cape briefly wound over and around Marc. It was like an insubstantial hug and he smiled a little at the gesture.
Yeah. He should get packing.
It was Marc Spector who flew from London to Egypt, but it was Steven Grant who walked through the Saqqara Necropolis with wide-eyed wonder, Layla at his side.
Layla had truly worked a miracle, though she claimed it was good connections coupled with the right amount of money that had given them the necessary ID, papers and backgrounds to move through the Saqqara sites without being questioned. Layla didn't need a guide to move around the vast area. She knew the place inside out and she had hired a car for them to use when getting from one of the sites to another.
"I've been here many times before," she told Steven and winked. "No guide needed."
"Not always officially," he translated.
"Quite."
He gave her a smile, then his eyes were drawn to the necropolis around them, lighting up with the love he held for all things Egyptian. Layla smiled fondly and she guided him along the many paths leading through the desert grounds.
They had toured the officially accessible part first, quite early in the morning, to avoid the midday heat. Layla had paid the tickets, then they had joined a tour, after which they had just walked around, pretending to be normal tourists. Steven was busy shooting as many photos as possible, turning the make-belief into the truth, actually.
"This is astounding!" he whispered as they strolled along the paved road through the ruins that had been cleared for the public and where people from all over the world were busy reading information displays, listening to tour guides, or just admiring the ancient ruins of a world long gone by.
"It is," Layla agreed softly. "I haven't played tourist in quite a while."
"You should do it more often," he replied. "It suits you."
The shy, close to embarrassed smile was very endearing and Layla gave him a bright one of her own. "I'll remember that."
They were heading to the site where Moon Knight had first encountered Apophis' knight, which was a little away from the busier dig sites. Palm trees dotted the desert landscape and there was even a small oasis of sorts for the tired visitors to rest a little. There weren't a lot of refreshment stands, but Layla had packed everything they needed.
So far, they had had no luck. No tingle of crossing a barrier, no avatar only another avatar could see, and no giant black serpent. Nothing at all.
"Strange," Steven murmured.
"Nothing?" Layla asked.
"Nothing. It's… all normal."
They walked around, evading a tour guide with a small gaggle of people. Steven sensed nothing at all and that didn't change.
They called it a day a few hours later and returned to their boarding house. Marc stayed in the back as Steven and Layla went out to a small restaurant that wasn't one of the many tourist trap hot spots, serving fries, burgers and pizza. No, it was very authentic, family-run, and Steven was delighted to try out the many small dishes they were served after Layla had ordered.
The second day yielded no results either. Marc was growing quite frustrated, which was starting to annoy Steven, because he was frustrated, too. For all the wonderful sites and the museums, he had wanted to find the lady knight just as urgently.
He glanced at the moon god who was silently standing at their side, the drab cape floating in the wind. Khonshu looked strangely at home in this environment.
Like he belonged.
And in a way he did.
This had been the world he had existed in so many centuries ago. It was a world that had been very different back then, when people had worshipped the gods, when there had been temples and shrines.
"Memories?" Steven inquired softly.
Those ancient, empty sockets looked at him. "Many," was the soft reply. He could almost hear a kind of distant longing.
"Happy ones?"
Khonshu cocked his head. "Mostly."
Layla's expression had softened a little and she gave the ancient entity a brief, small smile. "It was very different back then."
"Very. I can still see it as it was, Layla El-Faouly. All the color, the splendor, the life. It was very different, and it is a happy memory, but only that. A memory. Times change."
Steven felt this mixture of sadness, fondness and something like reminiscence along the soul bond. He gentle leaned closer on that purely psychic plain. He wasn't as good at this as Marc was, who did it instinctively, but he had learned a thing or two.
Khonshu returned the invisible gesture and Steven felt the warmth, the gentle hug, which elicited a smile.
"You remember every night. And also every day?"
"Yes."
"A blessing and a curse?" Layla hazarded a guess.
"It can be both."
Steven's felt the fluctuations, the cursed memories, the days and nights that had resulted in pain and regret. Some long ago, some rather recent. He tightened his hold a little more and Khonshu's warmth was tell-tale.
"When you arrived, I saw it as a curse, little worm," the moon god teased. "I was proven wrong."
"You were a nightmare," Steven replied with the same good-natured ribbing. "Sometimes you still are."
"Because you are still sometimes an idiot."
Layla rolled her eyes, smiling softly.