Chapter 6

Author's Note: Some of you may notice there is a discrepancy between this chapter and my original story, The Fourth Side of the Pyramid. For what it's worth, that first story is wrong, and I intend to change it. I realized in writing this that there is no way Ardeth could have known what truly happened inside the pyramid of Ahm Shere until someone told him. Thus, he could not have known that Evelyn died and was resurrected. You should forget I ever alluded to this knowledge in that first story. Hey, it's my world, I can play God however I like. g -- Becky

Chapter 6

The Book of the Dead

"Rick!"

He saw it, too. Ahead, briefly glimpsed through the thick jungle growth, was the gold pyramid.

They had outrun the fire, and now they moved forward at a loping gait that ate up the ground quickly. Rick had bound his right arm to his side, but every step sent pain jolting through him, and he was beginning to question his ability to do anything in the upcoming fight. As long as he kept going, he thought he would be all right, but as soon as they stopped, all bets were off.

Of the Med-jai who had ridden into Ahm Shere, only a dozen remained. The others were dead or scattered, for in the chaos of fire and destruction, they had been separated. Perhaps some had stumbled into further danger, but Rick prayed most of them had managed to find their way to safety, and were even now working through the jungle toward the pyramid.

Ahead, a sudden shout went up, and Rick started in surprise as a single gunshot split the morning. He staggered to a halt, guided by Evy, who had not let go of his hand the entire time.

The Med-jai parted to reveal the dead horse laying on the ground. The black stallion wore the honorific tack that marked it as belonging to Ardeth, and one foreleg was shattered. There was no sign of its rider.

"Where's Jonathan?" Evy asked in a low, worried voice. She looked around.

"He's probably with Ardeth," Rick said, trying to reassure her. "He'll be fine." He made himself stop right there. This was Jonathan they were talking about, after all. Anything else he said would only come across as a patent attempt at false cheer. He had to be honest, to himself if not to Evelyn.

After a brief consultation, one of the Med-jai came over to them. "They went on foot from here. We must hurry."

Rick nodded. "Then let's go."

****

Khalid Hassan was exultant.

He had not known what to expect within the pyramid itself, and it had surpassed his wildest dreams. Within those golden walls was everything he needed to raise Lord Imhotep and hand control of the world over to the High Priest. He would be exalted as Imhotep's servant, and all the world would cower beneath him.

He had feared they might have to search, that even the illusory temple would not be enough, but in the end it was all too easy. The Book of the Dead, the precious treasure he sought, was simply laying on the floor, discarded as worthless by whomever had last used it.

He permitted himself a small smile as he picked it up. For three years he had waited for this day, forcing himself to learn patience. It had not been easy, and at times he had wanted to scream with frustration, but now all that was about to come to an end.

It still rankled, to this day. He had wanted so badly to witness the Scorpion King's downfall. To have to sit out the greatest moment in history at the abandoned dig site had been an ignominy which had not sat well with him. But he had obeyed, consoling himself with the thought that when Lord Imhotep took over the world, he would be remembered then.

In hindsight, his banishment to Hamunaptra had been for the best, saving his life and those of his companions. For had he gone with them, he would surely have perished in Ahm Shere, as the others had. He was thankful, of course, but he still wished he might have been here three years ago, that he could have seen what happened here.

He pushed these thoughts from his mind and focused on the Book of the Dead. Like all of the oasis, it was not really here, for only a shade of its reality had been summoned by the power of the diamond. Its illusory form was open, and the incantation on the page was that of resurrection -- for a mortal, not the undead being that was Lord Imhotep.

Khalid's smile widened. "So one of you died," he murmured. "I wonder who it was."

His companion, who had been with him since their capture at Hamunaptra, leaned in. "What is it?"

"Someone used this book," Khalid said. "Three years ago, one of the O'Connells died." His smile turned slowly into an expression of anticipation.

Soon, they would all die. And then not even the Book could save them.

****

Jonathan was limping. With some exasperation, Ardeth stopped. "When did you hurt yourself?"

"I've been limping since I got here," Jonathan snapped. "You're just now noticing?"

Ardeth said nothing to this. In his current state of mind, he considered it a major accomplishment that he had noticed at all.

He turned away and saw that the pyramid was very close now. After the confrontation with Lock Nah, he had made a conscious decision not to see the Oasis, and the jungle growth that Jonathan Carnahan clearly did. While he had run across the stark sands of the desert unimpeded, Jonathan had ducked tree branches that were not there, and had a harder time of it.

Ardeth had no patience for the Oasis. But he did accept the pyramid. For within its illusory confines, this would all be settled.

He was ashamed of himself, and his behavior earlier. Jonathan was right -- he had acted very selfishly. He had allowed himself to forget his oath of revenge, and that his small son still lived. His grief had consumed him, and nearly led him to what was essentially suicide. Were it not for Jonathan, he would have let himself die there, bleeding to death from a wound that was not even real.

He closed his left hand into a fist, relishing the pain of the cut across his palm. He had almost forgotten the small wound, and the blood that had run from the cut, blood he had used to mark his son's forehead. It was right to remember these things, it was right to remember Aarif, and think of the boy.

"You know," Jonathan said, as they began trotting forward again, "I don't think I ever told you everything that happened the first time we were here."

"You told me enough," Ardeth said. It was probably true that he didn't know everything, but the details did not matter. The story had come out on Jonathan's first visit back to Egypt. Intensely curious as to how the Scorpion King had been defeated -- was it O'Connell or Imhotep who had done it? -- Ardeth had asked many questions, which Jonathan had answered with some reluctance. After that, the subject had never come up again.

"I don't think I did," Jonathan said now.

Ardeth came to a halt for the second time. "Then tell me now," he commanded.

Jonathan winced. "You've got to promise not to hit me again." His right eye was swelling shut, already beginning to bruise. Here was another thing Ardeth was ashamed of, but he could not bring himself to apologize.

"I promise," he said stiffly. "Tell me."

"I didn't tell you before, because there was no point. And I don't like thinking about it. It was horrible enough the first time it happened." Jonathan's shoulder jerked in remembered pain. "Evelyn died here."

Ardeth was stunned. He thought of Rick O'Connell as a brother -- Sirma ma-asalam, ya ahi -- but for Evelyn he had the deepest respect and affection. She was someone he could never have, an unattainable icon who represented everything right with the world. She was beautiful, intelligent, strong, and loyal. He had seen from the start that O'Connell was falling for her, and wished the American nothing but the best. He had ridden from Hamunaptra and left them to find each other, thinking with some wistfulness that he might spend his entire life looking for such a woman and never find her.

Seven years later, he had found Ranya and a love worthy of his dreams. He had known then what O'Connell must surely feel for Evelyn, only he had never expected his happiness to end so terribly soon.

"It was Alex's idea," Jonathan Carnahan said. "He read from the book. He saved her."

"You brought her back to life?" He was aware that his voice was little more than a hoarse croak.

"Well, Alex did," Jonathan said. "I kept Anck-su-namun occupied long enough." He grimaced, remembering. "She nearly cut my heart out."

"He read from the Book." It was suddenly difficult to breathe. Ardeth stared at the pyramid and tried to remember why he was here.

The Book of the Dead. He had thought it was lost, buried under the sands of Ahm Shere, forever a part of the desert. It was one of the reasons the Med-jai now guarded this barren wasteland, for if the sand ever gave up its treasure, the consequences could be horrific. But if Alex O'Connell had used the Book in the pyramid, perhaps it would show itself. He had hoped the Book had been lost three years ago, but if Alex had read from it, this meant the odds were good that it would be easily found. Ardeth gritted his teeth and bit back a groan of frustration. He had counted on the Book being difficult to locate, hoping that it would take some time for the members of the cult to find it.

But the diamond had extraordinary power, power enough to raise specters of the dead so real that a man could die from them. Could it not also reveal the Book? And would it be enough? Could Khalid Hassan read from the illusory book?

He had suspected before that time was short, that they might arrive too late. Now he was sure of it. There was no hope of reaching the pyramid and preventing Khalid Hassan from reading the Book and raising the Creature. For a third time, the High Priest Imhotep would walk the earth, and for a third time, the Med-jai had failed.

"Ardeth?" Jonathan touched his sleeve tentatively.

He jerked back, rounding on the Englishman. "We will be too late," he said. "The Creature may already walk the earth."

Jonathan swallowed hard. "Right. But won't he need to find the chest first? Otherwise he can't regenerate."

It was true. Perhaps the Book of the Dead did not need to be real, but the Creature would need the genuine chest and the canopic jars within in order to regenerate. Until then he would only have a fraction of his powers, and be more vulnerable. "Where is the chest?" he asked.

"How would I know?" Jonathan said peevishly.

"They would not want to have lost track of it," Ardeth said. "They must have had it with them, three years ago. It must be here in the Oasis. They will raise the Creature, then send men out here to find it and open it."

"Sure," Jonathan agreed, "but who would want to do that?"

"For the glory of their Lord, men will do almost anything," Ardeth said coldly. There were many desert tribes who waged wars against each other in Allah's name, and the one constant through history was the invocation of religion to justify any atrocity. There would surely be men among Khalid Hassan's cult who would volunteer to sacrifice themselves for the Creature's sake.

"Right." Jonathan sighed. "Well, but they have to find it first." He tried to sound cheerful, the old jolly Englishman who could see the bright side of everything, and came nowhere close. Ardeth suspected that particular man was long gone, and did not mourn him.

"Yes. And we must use that time as best we can." He looked pointedly at his companion. "Can you walk the rest of the way?"

Jonathan lifted his chin. "I can," he said with stiff dignity.

"Good." Ardeth turned and began heading through the jungle, toward the pyramid and the Creature.

****

An hour later they reached the treeline. Jonathan was limping badly by this point, but he said nothing. He knew he was on very thin ice with Ardeth, and he was afraid to say anything else to further upset the Med-jai. He thought it best to keep his mouth shut and do what he was told.

Two men stood at the entrance to the temple, wearing the red and black robes that the cult continued to favor. They were each armed with a rifle and a curved sword similar to Ardeth's.

Ardeth stood aside. "Take them," he said.

Jonathan pulled his pistol reluctantly. Killing a man in order to save another was one thing, but cold-blooded murder like this was entirely different. He was not sure he could do it.

He raised the gun, cocked it, and sighted on the man standing on the right side of the steps. His finger curled about the trigger, then just stopped.

You any good with that?

Three times Fox and Hounds Grand Champion, I'll have you know. You any good with that?

We will know soon enough. The flash of a sword in the moonlight and the kiss of cold steel at his throat. The only way to kill an Anubis warrior is by taking off its head.

I'll remember that.

He hadn't even realized until later that Ardeth was teasing him.

He kept his eyes on his target and made his only protest. "You realize that by doing this, they'll know we're here."

To his left, he heard the sound of steel scraping on steel as Ardeth drew his sword. "I know."

Jonathan sighed. "Right."

He fired.

****

The gunshot echoed through the Oasis, and Rick's head snapped up. It was closely followed by a second, then not repeated.

"Jonathan," Evy breathed.

****

When the first man fell, the second sprang into action immediately, bringing up his rifle. But before he could do more than start to aim, Jonathan shot him, and the man fell in a heap.

They ran for the entrance to the pyramid, and as they passed the place where Evy had died, Jonathan shivered all over. He would swear there was an imprint on the sand from his sister's body.

His ankle gave way as he reached the top of the stairs, and he cried out in pain, lurching to his right, then falling to his hands and knees, the pistol sliding across the sand and coming to rest against the wall of the temple. The stone beneath him was impossibly solid, and he thought wildly that it could not be an illusion, it simply could not be.

From deep within, a loud bellow shattered the silence.

Jonathan looked up in horror. Ahead of him, two men came running up the stairs, their guns drawn.

Ardeth made short work of them. "Now, Jonathan!" He picked up one of the rifles and held it in his left hand, his bloodied sword in his right. He was already halfway down the steps.

The entire temple shook under a second, louder roar.

Jonathan moaned softly. He knew that voice.

Gunfire erupted in the stairwell, and he staggered to his feet, scooping up the fallen pistol. Someone screamed, and then the gunshots ceased.

He ran across the sand and stared down the stairwell. Two more men in red robes were crumpled on the stone. Ardeth was nearly at the bottom of the stairs, taking them two at a time in his haste.

"Wait for me!" Jonathan cried. He tripped down the stairs, gasping at the pain in his ankle.

The stairs ended in an antechamber containing a golden statue of an enormous scorpion. A hole in this beckoned eagerly, and Jonathan shuddered again. He knew without being told that this was the resting place for the Bracelet, that this was how the Army of Anubis had been released. Winding canyons in the floor writhed and squirmed with masses of black scorpions, and Jonathan felt the hair on the back of his neck crawl with revulsion at the sight.

Beyond this room, a curved hall led through the temple. Jonathan fought back his terror. "Are we really here?" he gasped. "This isn't real, is it?"

"I do not know," Ardeth said coolly. "Does it really matter?

"I was afraid you were going to say that," he said under his breath.

"Do you remember the spell used to make the Creature mortal again?"

He groaned. "No." His memories of their desperate battle against Imhotep at Hamunaptra were fragmented at best. He remembered holding the book while Evy read from it, and how Rick had stabbed the mummy, but little else with any clarity.

Ardeth glared at him. "Then you must find the Book of Amun-Ra and take it from them. Read the proper incantation, and you will be able to kill the Creature."

"And what are you going to be doing?" he cried, terrified at the thought of doing all this by himself.

"I will deal with the cult, and Khalid Hassan," Ardeth said, and his eyes promised death to them all.

****

As they neared the edge of the trees, the mummy's roar swept over the Oasis. Rick staggered and nearly fell; only Evy's firm grip on his arm kept him on his feet.

The Med-jai began to run, crying out to each other in Arabic.

Rick forced himself to run, teeth clenched. "Well," he said, "they always say, third time's the charm."

****

The hall ended in a large open room. Great cauldrons of burning oil stood on the floor, the light from their flames illuminating the chamber. Torches hung at various intervals along the wall, and the floor was a firelit stone. Enormous double doors hung open at the far end of the room, and cutting the chamber in half was a gaping pit leading to the Underworld. Greedy hands reached out from the chasm, seeking any who might be careless enough to stray close to the brink.

A man in a red robe stood in the center of room, holding the Book of the Dead. Other men in similar robes were on either side, forming a loose half-circle. They were on their knees, heads bowed to the floor, trembling in fear.

Imhotep, Seti's High Priest, had risen. The Creature stood before Khalid Hassan, a hideous half-formed being that had rotting holes in its skull and exposed muscle and sinew. It looked nothing at all like the man Ardeth had seen thirteen years ago in Cairo, and he drew up short at the sight.

The men had their backs to the room's entrance, and Imhotep was smiling at three men who were now creeping forward with a carved chest. Ardeth's heart sank at the sight. Clearly Khalid Hassan's men had already found the chest in the Oasis and brought it with them -- the two days head start the cult had been given had been put to good use.

As they watched, clinging to the doorframe, one of the men opened the chest. Mist curled up from it, and the cult members began to chant the Creature's name, faster and faster, working themselves into a frenzy. Khalid Hassan stared over the Book, eyes wide, an expression of rapture on his face.

The Creature unhinged his jaw and uttered an unearthly roar. The three men began to scream as Imhotep stole their lives to create his own. Ghastly sucking sounds filled the chamber, and the men's screams became first liquid, then choked off altogether. Their bodies, lightweight and desiccated, fell to the floor.

Jonathan cringed away, but Ardeth watched every moment of it. In mere seconds, the Creature became whole, appearing as the man he had once been, the man who had fallen in love with Anck-su-namun and thus doomed himself to his fate.

Khalid Hassan laid the Book of the Dead on the bowed back of one of his companions. He clasped his hands in front of him and opened his mouth to speak.

Ardeth walked into the chamber.

The cult members still had their heads bowed, and so did not see him. Only the Creature saw, and those deep brown eyes narrowed. "Med-jai!"

Khalid and his followers spun around, and hands pulled guns and knives, ready to kill at a single word from their Lord.

Ardeth stopped. In flawless Ancient Egyptian he said, "I have no quarrel with you, Imhotep. I am not here as a Med-jai. I am not here to stop you."

The Creature's expression changed, arrogance settling over its features. "Then why are you here?"

"My quarrel is with that one." Ardeth pointed to Khalid Hassan. "He is the one I want."

*********