The Diamond of Ahm Shere

by Miss Becky

Three years ago, Jonathan was entrusted with the diamond of Ahm Shere. Now it has been stolen, and the consequences are dreadful. Jonathan and the O'Connells must race to prevent an old evil from arising, and a new one from claiming an old friend.

4. The Truth Becomes Known

Chapter 4

The Truth is Known

Although Izzy had warned them, Rick was still unprepared for the destruction he saw as the plane flew over the remains of the Med-jai camp. He sat back in his seat, not wanting to look down and see anymore.

"Oh, my God," Evy breathed. She had gone very pale.

Alex stared out the window, mesmerized by the devastation below. He did not ask why someone would do such a thing; already he understood far too well how the world sometimes worked.

Rick was on his feet the moment Izzy set the plane down, gathering his bags and walking toward the door. The sight of the camp had galvanized him into action. He still felt like he was being dragged into something, but he no longer felt unwilling. He had seen, and now he wanted to act. He wanted to do something, to react, to hurt back.

"What should I do?" Izzy asked, standing framed in the doorway of the plane.

"Go back to Cairo," Rick said, peering across the sand to the fires burning in the camp. "Thanks for the ride, Izzy."

The pilot shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Maybe one day I'll have a friend who thinks of me as more than a form of transport."

"Maybe," Alex agreed cheerfully, thudding down the stairs.

Izzy's jaw dropped.

Evy touched him on the shoulder as she walked past. "Thank you, Izzy." She moved gracefully down the steps to the sand, with the pilot staring at her the entire way.

Rick, had he not known better, would have been offended.

They walked quickly toward the river and the camp. The sky was turning a dark, velvety blue, and the stars were coming out. Sand that had lain flat and featureless all day took on new life as the wind and twilight gave it new shapes and definition. The desert was beautiful at night, Rick thought absently, and spared no further thought for it.

Directly ahead, silhouetted by the fires burning within the camp, was a line of horsemen. They sat perfectly still, waiting, and one man was before the others, set apart not only by space but by his demeanor.

"There's Jonathan," Evy breathed, and only then did Rick see his brother-in-law. Jonathan was near the end of the line, his white shirt and jacket making him easily visible against the black robes of the Med-jai.

Ardeth dismounted and came toward them. He appeared unhurt, and Rick felt a weight lift off his shoulders. "My friends. We have waited for you."

There was something vaguely ominous about this pronouncement. "What happened here?" Rick asked.

"They were set upon in the night. The same men who stole the diamond from Jonathan. They took the Book of Amun-Ra and have gone to Ahm Shere." Ardeth spoke with glacial calm, almost the stranger that had ordered Rick out of Hamunaptra thirteen years ago.

He said, "my friends," Rick thought, but he didn't really mean it. Aloud, he asked, "Why Ahm Shere? I thought it was just a wasteland now."

"Because that is where the Book of the Dead lies," Ardeth said.

"The Book of the Dead!" Alex exclaimed. "But that means they can—"

"Resurrect Imhotep," finished Evy.

"We must leave tonight," Ardeth said. "Horses have been readied for you."

"Wait," Rick said. This was all happening too fast; he was keenly aware of his ignorance of the situation. He wanted to help, but everything important had already occurred, or was happening without his volition. He had no say in any of it, and he was unaccustomed to this feeling, this unease.

"There is no time," Ardeth said coldly. "We must leave now." He turned and began walking away.

"What about Alex?" Evy called.

"Mum! I'm going with you!" Alex protested.

Ardeth stopped, but did not turn around. "He can stay here."

"I'm coming with you!" Alex cried. "You can't just leave me behind."

Rick thought of his son asking to learn how to fire a gun and looked at Evy. "Oh, yes, we can," he said.

"But it's not fair!" Alex said angrily.

"Alex." Ardeth turned around and walked over to the boy. He said something in Arabic.

Alex's eyes widened. He gulped and nodded, then made a response.

Rick, who knew nothing of the language, looked from his son to his wife. "What are they saying?"

Evy shook her head. "I'm not sure."

Whatever they were saying, Alex was clearly feeling better about things. A new confidence suddenly stiffened his spine, and he stood a little taller. "Yes," he said in English.

Ardeth looked at Evy. "He will stay here and watch over my son. Aarif witnessed the attack and he has been badly affected by it. It is my hope that Alex can help him."

"What about your daughter?" Rick asked.

Ardeth hesitated only a moment. "My daughter and my wife are dead," he said.

Rick groaned and wondered what he had done to earn this magic gift of somehow always saying the wrong thing.

It was Evy, of course, who knew the right thing to say. "Oh, Ardeth. I am so sorry." She walked up and hugged the Med-jai, ignoring the way he flinched at her approach. Ardeth stood stiffly in her embrace and made no move to return it, and Evy wisely ignored this, too.

She stepped back. "We'll help you do whatever it takes to find those men and stop them."

"Thank you," Ardeth said. There was no feeling in his voice. He might have been talking to someone he had just met.

Rick stood back, not knowing what to do. For all his travels and adventures, he did not have much experience with death. Too young to remember his parents' death, he had grown up in the orphanage in Cairo in an atmosphere that was a mixture of religiously-motivated shelter and innocence, and the natural inclination of little boys to seek out fun and excitement. He had done a lot of things and seen even more, but death had remained largely outside his sphere of existence. This relative innocence, he knew, was partially responsible for his reaction at Evy's death, his total helplessness – What do I do, Evy? – his panicked near-breakdown.

He had only the barest concept of the grief Ardeth must be feeling right now, the pain that came from loss. He had been granted a miracle in Evy's resurrection—

The breath rushed out of his lungs. A miracle. If they could find the Book of the Dead… Was it possible?

He very nearly blurted out something to this effect, then bit down on his tongue. He had said far too much tonight already. Maybe it would be better to say nothing, to keep his thoughts to himself. If he gave Ardeth that hope, only for it to end in tragedy, he would never forgive himself.

The Med-jai chieftain began walking back to the camp, and Rick followed. He peered closely at Jonathan as they passed the horsemen, noting with relief that his brother-in-law looked fine. Uneasy and uncomfortable, but unhurt. Obviously Ardeth had managed to hold his temper and not assault Jonathan for that man's deplorable lapse in watchfulness.

"Wait here," Ardeth said, and kept walking.

Evy touched his arm. "Rick. Something's not right with him."

He lowered his head, speaking softly so his voice would not carry. "Evy, the man's just lost half his family. How would you be?" Then he looked down at his son. "Alex, you behave yourself. Don't make any trouble for these people. You just do what Ardeth asked and be good."

Alex's blue eyes widened in a show of perfect innocence. "I don't make trouble, Dad. Not on purpose, anyway."

Rick sighed. "I know, buddy."

He looked up as Ardeth emerged from one of the tents in the camp. With him was a little boy with long black hair and a fearful expression. The child looked to be five years old, and he clung to his father's robes, walking in jerky, short steps. Rick felt his stomach turn over at the sight, and he felt Evy's hand tighten over his arm.

Ardeth began to speak, and the men on horseback turned the animals so they were now facing their leader. Jonathan did so with less confidence, and the horse uttered a piercing whinny that split the night air.

"He's talking about the danger of what they're going to do," Alex translated, frowning with the effort. "How important it is."

Rick watched, fascinated. He remembered the last time they had come to Cairo, and how Ardeth had left them to speak to the Med-jai, before rejoining them at the airfield. Had a similar scene happened then?

Alex bit his lip. "Now he says that while he is gone, a man named Jamail will stay behind and guard the camp."

As they watched, Ardeth pulled a knife from his belt. Rick tensed, suddenly having a bad feeling about this.

Ardeth held up the knife, then slashed his left palm. Immediately blood ran from the wound, black in the firelight. Ardeth closed his hand into a fist so the blood wet his fingertips, then dropped to one knee before his son. With his own blood, he drew a symbol on the child's forehead. He began speaking again.

"He says that if he dies, his son will be the next leader of the Med-jai." Alex paused to listen. "Oh! The boy's name is Ardeth, too." He waited, then said, "I didn't get all of it, but I think this was a pretty big moment. If he had done it in the blood from his right hand, his sword-bearing hand, it would have been for real, passing the leadership on for good." He frowned. "At least, I think that's what just happened."

Rick stared at the silent child with the blood on his forehead, and fought the urge to yank at his shirt collar, to grab the invisible noose that was slowly strangling him. The churning uneasiness in his gut made him feel sick. He counted the Med-jai warriors, added in his own guns, and still they were not enough. Battling mummies and mortals was one thing, but how could mere guns fight the phantoms of rage and despair? How did you fight such enemies?

He had the sudden, depressing certainty that whatever happened in the desert of Ahm Shere, not all who went in would be coming out.

****

Jonathan had never been so glad to see anybody in all his life. With relief, he let his horse fall back so he could join his sister and O'Connell. They flanked him, a move that somewhat irritated him, for it smacked of protection and condescension, two things he did not need right now.

But after Ardeth Bay's coldness, he would take O'Connell's condescension any day. "Did you find anything in Cairo?" he asked.

"Nope," Rick said.

Jonathan sighed, although really, he was not surprised. He had not expected them to find anything. Thousands of men went through Cairo every day, many of them with dark hair and mustaches. There was nothing to suppose anyone would remember Khalid Hassan.

Nevertheless, it was pretty damn disappointing.

"Jonathan," Evy said, her dark eyes full of worry, "did you explain to Ardeth everything that happened?"

He recoiled, insulted. "Of course I did! What do you take me for?"

Now it was his sister's turn to be offended. "Oh, Jonathan, you know I didn't mean it like that…"

He looked away, shutting her out. He knew perfectly well what she took him for: a liar and a thief, a drunken gambler wasting his life, a burden on all those around him. Evy thought it. Rick thought it. The entire world thought it. And it was little wonder. For the first forty years of his life he had indeed been those things.

But all that had changed three years ago, when he had left Hamunaptra with the diamond of Ahm Shere tucked safely in his rucksack. He had vowed to make a fresh start, to become reliable and responsible, to be trustworthy and respected. Except nobody else had seen the change, nobody had known these things.

Well, almost nobody. He clenched his teeth against a groan. Ardeth had known. And he's lost everything because of me, Jonathan thought. No wonder nobody ever wants to trust me. Look what happens when they do.

"Look," Rick said, cutting into his thoughts. "I just need to know one thing. Are you going to help us out when we get to Ahm Shere?"

Too despondent to get insulted again, Jonathan just nodded. "Yes."

"Good." Rick looked grim. "Because if they raise Imhotep again, we've got big problems."

****

They rode through the night, stopping only to water the horses. For a while the Nile remained on their left, then they left the river behind. Jonathan pondered the mystery of this great river running through such a desolate land. The paradox of water and desert so peacefully co-existing could only happen in a country such as Egypt, he thought. Anywhere else and it just wouldn't work.

Ardeth kept a fast pace, and there were no opportunities for conversation. Jonathan did not mind. He was sunk in his own thoughts, mired in gloom, convinced of his own worthlessness. He had promised Rick he would be useful in Ahm Shere, but who was he to make such promises? He had no idea what to expect when they reached their destination, or what he might do.

What would it feel like to have self-confidence, he wondered wistfully? What was it like to be Rick O'Connell, strong and brave even when fighting ancient monsters from the Underworld? What was it like to be Evelyn, so courageous and giving that she would risk her own life for those around her?

He closed his eyes, his body swaying with the horse's gait. Images from his dream rose before him, that hateful dream that had started it all. If he had never had the dream, none of this would ever have happened, he thought angrily. He would never have been compelled to chase Ardeth Bay halfway across the desert, in search of his destiny.

Once or twice during the years he had wondered if the Med-jai had lied to him, told him a story about the diamond possessing powers just to humor him. But he had never entertained these thoughts for very long -- Ardeth didn't seem capable of such cruelty, and in truth, these thoughts were just too painful. He didn't want to think he was so desperate that someone might have handed him a ready-made tale just to appease him and make him feel better.

And now he knew the truth. The diamond did hold power within it, or at least someone sure believed it did.

It is part of Ahm Shere. The power of the Oasis resides within the stone.

His eyes flew open. "Oh, no."

Nobody heard. Evy was half-asleep in the saddle, and Rick was staring straight ahead, obviously lost in thought. Jonathan hunched his shoulders and clutched the reins helplessly.

Could the stone alone raise Imhotep? Did Khalid Hassan even need the Book of the Dead?

If that were true, they would almost certainly be too late. Jonathan gazed at the backs of the Med-jai warriors who rode ahead of him, men who had ridden from their watch to find their home in ruins, men who followed Ardeth Bay through a respect and loyalty beyond anything Jonathan had ever known.

He thought maybe Ardeth knew about the diamond's powers, knew that they were too late.

Ardeth knew, and didn't care. They were riding into a trap, a death sentence, and if any of the Med-jai suspected it, they said not a word. The loyalty that held them at their leader's side also held them silent.

It's my fault, Jonathan thought. I did this to him. He's going to kill us all, and it's all my fault.

********