London Trials
The shadows are the last choice once both heaven and hell have rejected you.
From the Harvester's Journal
Imhotep looked out of the glass window of the airplane as it flew across the Mediterranean Sea. Soralis was between him and the Med-jai, keeping a relative peace between the two.
"It's all gone isn't it?" he asked her in his own tongue. "The Nubians, the Hittites. Everything I've known is gone. Only the ghosts remain."
She shrugged. "It's been more than three thousand years since you last truly walked, so yes. It is gone brother, but the people are still the same." She replied.
"You've changed," he replied. "You aren't the same woman I knew,"
"I wasn't a Shadowlord then," she said softly.
"True," he replied.
"So, how did you manage to get the royals to inflict homm dai on you?" she asked, catching him off-guard.
"You would ask that, wouldn't you?" he sighed and told her.
When he was finished, she shook her head and winced as an image flickered in her mind. It wavered, solidified into a figure of an Egyptian princess, hauntingly similar to one that had tormented her for several weeks, ages ago. "You boneheaded idiot," she whispered, realization sinking in.
"That woman was a member of Akethros' cult." She told him harshly.
"What?" he looked at her in shock. "Impossible, we wiped them out!"
"They must have smuggled her out before you struck." She murmured, half to herself, half to Imhotep. "Anck-su-namun was some sort of relation to Ah- tesu-na. I saw her often in both her company and the company of Sabef, the high priest."
"How old was she?" he asked, softly,
"Ten maybe eleven," she replied.
He snarled quietly. "She was fourteen when she came to live at the palace as an attendant to the queen."
"They must have planned this for years." Tears burned in his eyes, he blinked them away furiously.
"And longer," she replied softly. "Imhotep, I know you hate the Med-jai and Nefertiri with reason, but part of the deal was to give that hate over. Hating them will only give Akethros power."
"Not an easy thing to do Hathor." He told her, the images of being mummified alive, still as fresh in his mind as if it had happened yesterday. "Not an easy thing at all," he repeated, hands clenching in anger.
She turned his face towards her. "Second chances are never easy brother, screw this up, and you won't get a third. Screw this up and I'll be the one sending you back." She warned and his eyes widened in shock.
"You couldn't!" he hissed.
"I gave my word," She smiled humorlessly. "A Shadowlord never breaks his word. And I will let nothing threaten humanity if I can help it."
He laughed bitterly. "You have changed Hathor, more than you know."
She inclined her head. "As have you,"
He turned back to the window, confused and upset.
***
"Rick, look at this," Evelyn O'Connell called out excitedly as she examined the latest artifacts they had gleaned from the dig site at Thebes.
Rick O'Connell moved over to his wife's side and peered over her shoulder to look at the tablet he couldn't read. "What does it say?" he asked.
"It details the defeat of some sort of cult, by the hands of Imhotep and a group of Med-jai. Apparently, these individuals had killed his sister, the High Priestess of Isis and the wife of one of the Med-jai chieftains." She gently blew the dust away, revealing more of the ornate hieroglyphs.
"Imhotep had a sister?" He asked incredulous.
"A twin in fact. It was a rare occurrence in those days for twins to survive. One or the other usually died before they reached a year old. In most cases, at least one was born stillborn. It was generally considered a good omen for both to survive." She frowned as she read further.
"Hathor was a great seer and healer, it says that she left behind a son when she died, her ashes where cast to the winds…"
"That's odd. Egyptians mummified their dead, especially their honored dead. Hathor was nothing if not honored if I read this correctly." Her brow furrowed in confusion. "This is definitely unusual. Why would they burn her body?"
"Maybe they didn't want her coming back," Rick suggested.
"For what reason? She definitely wasn't evil, diseased, committed no crimes…" She trailed off as she continued to translate.
Rick grinned as he kissed his wife. "Honey, it's ancient history. She ain't the problem her brother was, so why should we worry about it?" he checked his watch. "Damnit, I gotta pick Alex up from the tutor,"
"Rick! Language!" she shot back. He laughed and kissed her again before heading out of the museum.
***
Rick didn't know what hit him. One minute he was driving along a backcountry road to the tutor's home, the next minute, his muscles seized up in a spasm of pain. As he wrestled with the car, he lost control, sending it careening into a tree. He was thrown against the safety harness, knocking the wind out of him. His head cracked against the window, leaving him senseless.
The next thing he could remember were rough, brutal hands dragging him from the wrecked car. He opened blurry eyes to see a man, dressed in slacks and tan shirt peering down at him, grabbing his wrist, the wrist that bore the tattoo. "This is the one."
"What of the boy and the woman?" one of the men holding him asked.
Rick's stomach churned with fear and anger as he began to struggle for all of his considerable worth. They were threatening his wife, his child. They couldn't touch them, not after…
"Shit, he's worse than that other Med-jai!" one of his captor's cursed as he hit Rick with the butt of his rifle. Rick crumpled, loosing consciousness once more.
"Take care of him, he has a concussion. We don't want him dying before it's time." Audric Blackburn warned. "Get Nefertiri and the boy."
***
Soralis raised her head, staring into nothing, seeing everything. Pain, anger and hate flickered across her face as she experienced Rick's capture. "They have him." She stated flatly. The cabdriver looked at her in surprise, she had not spoken for the entire trip. The two Egyptian men flanking her winced. The bearded one spoke rapidly in Arabic. She replied curtly, in the same language and seemed to withdraw into herself.
The trimly bearded man looked at cabdriver. "The museum. If you make it in under ten minutes I'll give you twenty pounds." The cabdriver spun into traffic, flooring it.
Soralis saw all of this take place with a strange detachment as she cast her soul into the sky, forming it into the likeness of an owl. She flew with an owl's silent swiftness, winging her way over the Thames, over tenements and houses the of nobility, towards a small home tucked in a grove of oaks. In it was her target, her son reincarnated into the body of a boy she didn't know.
She flew past the grove's ancient protection with ease, flew into the house, invisible. She screamed as she saw the boy's tutor fighting three armed men, while a third was trying to corner the boy. She became corporeal, became tangible as she launched herself at her son's attacker.
The cultist screamed as a huge, white owl stooped out of nowhere, screaming an owl's battle cry. It stooped, reaching out with razor sharp claws and a wicked beak, ripping into the man's head, laying it open, puncturing the skull. As she mantled her wings, the man fell screaming, fell dying. The other three attacking the man turned towards her. She launched herself towards the closest one, incredibly, impossibly fast.
This cultist too, had little time to react as the huge owl ripped his throat out. The man, finding a second wind ran the poker he was defending himself with into the back of one of the attackers, killing him. Soralis took care of the fourth and last attacker.
She screamed again, triumphantly as she launched herself with powerful wings into the air. The boy cried out as she disappeared as abruptly as she appeared.
Back in the cab Soralis blinked her eyes open and watched silently as they pulled into the museum's parking lot. They clambered out and Ardeth paid the man. Then the three ducked into a side alley, trying to assess the situation.
"How many are in the building Hathor?" Imhotep asked, using her ancient name, refusing to call her by the name she now bore.
"Twenty. In the library are two high level priests and a couple of lesser necromancers. This will not be easy." She told them unnecessarily.
Soralis handed Imhotep the Book Of The Dead and turned towards the locked side entrance. She quickly and expertly picked the locked and motioned them inside.
***
When the cultists burst through the library's door, she was only momentarily startled. Then years of ancient training took over and she fought her attackers, expertly trading blows with men twice her size. She killed one, impaling him on his cohort's sword. Breaking free, she yanked a gun out of another cultist's hand and opened fire on the rest, cleverly weaving in and out of the bookcases. Yet, they kept on coming and she was only one lone woman.
Finally, cornered, with her back to the literal wall, she prepared to go down fighting. Huge, turbaned men crowded her on all sides, swords hemming her in, gun's ready to open fire. Behind them, bodies littered the library, books and shelves torn, shattered. Evelyn O'Connell bravely, fearlessly stood tall; ready to die.
A snarled word in ancient Egyptian echoed in the building and the door to the library crumbled into dust, revealing three people. Evelyn immediately recognized Imhotep. She pressed her back to the wall, thinking that he was the root and cause of this attack.
To her complete and utter surprise, the cultists whirled to confront the three people. Evelyn then recognized the second person, the man on Imhotep's left. "Ardeth?" she whispered.
The third person, she didn't recognize. This person was a tall, white haired woman with gold eyes; dressed in black, complete to black duster. In each hand was what Evelyn assumed was a strange, three-pronged spear. As the dust cleared, she could see that those "spears" were metallic claws extending from the base between each knuckle of her hand.
The cultists charged the two men and woman, ignoring Evelyn. Ardeth leapt into the group of cultists, cutting them down like kindling. Evelyn picked up a sword from a fallen cultist and joined him.
Four of the cultists had surrounded Imhotep and the woman, who stood back to back. Fire, strange creatures, mists and lightening flew between the contestants. Each volley visibly weakened both the cultists and the two in the middle of their circle. One of the cultists cried out as glowing red filaments filled his nostrils, ears and throat, choking him, killing him.
Red lightning struck Imhotep, caging him in a ball of pain. The woman shouted and the red lightning exploded outwards, striking the necromancer, doubling him over. A creature resembling a feathered serpent rose out of the floor, dragging the damned man into the floor, leaving him trapped, cut in two.
Panicked now, the cultists redoubled their efforts. A black mist, shot through with lightning, surrounded both the woman and Imhotep, enveloping them completely, only to be burst apart by glowing things that could not be directly looked at.
The things surrounded the surviving priest and necromancer, who screamed as they struck out, leaving bloody welts behind. The welts themselves darkened, blackened as the cultists began screaming, their wails filling the room as they watched their bodies turn to ash before their eyes.
By that time, Ardeth and Evelyn had taken care of the remaining "ordinary" cultists and watched with grim fascination as the last necromancer crumbled to ash.
"Dear, god." Evelyn breathed out in stunned shock as Imhotep and the woman stepped over the bodies of the magic workers and stood before her and Ardeth.
The woman bowed respectively to Evelyn and turned to Ardeth. "You okay?" she asked.
He nodded. "You two sure don't fool around do you?" he asked lightly, pointing to the fallen cultists.
Imhotep shrugged. "They deserved it," he said his in own tongue and grinned wryly at Evelyn who stood in open-mouthed shock. "Not even a hello?"
"What are you doing here?" she demanded. "And how did he get back?"
"We don't have the time. They have your husband. We must retrieve your boy and go after them before Akethros is set loose," the woman told her. "Do you have a car?"
Evelyn paused. "Yes, I do."
"Good, come on," She and Imhotep turned to leave. Ardeth pulled Evelyn along.
***
Ardeth quickly explained the situation as Evelyn tore through London, driving straight to the tutor's home. "So, what you are telling me is that this cult wants to open a portal to hell, using my husband's life as the key."
"Correct. Once the portal is open, Akethros' armies will destroy everything in their path, leaving him free to take over." Ardeth was grim. "Soralis is the Isisethren. Osiris let us get Imhotep out of Akethros' hands in order to forestall this."
"Can they be trusted?" She demanded.
"Soralis, yes. Imhotep," Ardeth shrugged. "If he becomes troublesome, he knows his own sister will have to send him back."
"So, this Soralis is also Hathor." Evelyn said dryly as they screeched to a stop in front of the tutor's house.
"Yes," Ardeth said simply.
"What a bloody mess," Evelyn sighed.
***
The man had been in shock. Evy quickly called the police and hustled Alex out into the car before the tutor had time to protest. She knew quite well that the police would delay them and cost them valuable time, time that could be spent trying to rescue her husband before they left England.
Alex was not pleased when he saw Imhotep. He was less pleased when he learned that his father had been kidnapped by a group of cultists bent on taking over the world. Evelyn wanted to leave him with her sister.
Imhotep looked grave. "That is not wise my princess. The cult of Akethros has already tried to take you both. Until we deal with them, he will not be safe here in England or anywhere."
"We can't take him with us! It's too dangerous!" she snarled, glaring at her three companions.
"Hey, don't I get a say in this?" Alex blurted out.
"NO!" Evy shouted.
Soralis spoke. "Both the blood of the Med-jai and the blood of the pharohs run through him." She neglected to mention that Alex was also the reincarnation of her son. "This combination combined with his innocence will make him an irresistible attraction to Akethros' cult. He is far safer with us, than without us."
Evy seemed to deflate. "Alright, but if any harm comes to him, I will hunt you both down and kill you." She glared at both of them.
Soralis smiled briefly. More powerful creatures than Evelyn O'Connell had tried to kill her in the past. Now, thanks to the adamintium symbiont that encased her skeleton, it was nearly impossible to truly kill her. "Very well," she replied. "You have my word as a Shadowlord that no harm will befall your son Evelyn O'Connell."
Evelyn nodded and they quickly piled into the car. Alex elected to ride up front with the people he knew best. He still didn't quite trust Imhotep or Soralis. In truth, both scared him.
***
Rick O'Connell moaned as he opened his eyes. He was blindfolded, his hands cuffed behind his and he could feel some sort of collar circling his neck. Rough hands yanked him out of the car and sent him sprawling onto some sort of tarred road. He picked himself up and he could hear people moving around him. Something leaned over him and he could hear a click as a chain was attached to the collar circling his neck.
"Move!" a harsh voice commanded as it yanked on the chain. He blindly lurched to his feet as it threatened to choke him. He was lead, stumbling up some sort of stairs and into a plane. He knew this by the vibration of the floor under his feet. They strapped him to a chair and told if he tried to escape or made trouble for them, he would be beaten and worse.
"Where are we going?" he asked. "Who are you people?"
Laughter met his question and the breath exploded out of his lungs as somebody punched him, doubling him over in his own seat. "Shut up," the voice commanded.
For once, he wisely did as he was told.
The shadows are the last choice once both heaven and hell have rejected you.
From the Harvester's Journal
Imhotep looked out of the glass window of the airplane as it flew across the Mediterranean Sea. Soralis was between him and the Med-jai, keeping a relative peace between the two.
"It's all gone isn't it?" he asked her in his own tongue. "The Nubians, the Hittites. Everything I've known is gone. Only the ghosts remain."
She shrugged. "It's been more than three thousand years since you last truly walked, so yes. It is gone brother, but the people are still the same." She replied.
"You've changed," he replied. "You aren't the same woman I knew,"
"I wasn't a Shadowlord then," she said softly.
"True," he replied.
"So, how did you manage to get the royals to inflict homm dai on you?" she asked, catching him off-guard.
"You would ask that, wouldn't you?" he sighed and told her.
When he was finished, she shook her head and winced as an image flickered in her mind. It wavered, solidified into a figure of an Egyptian princess, hauntingly similar to one that had tormented her for several weeks, ages ago. "You boneheaded idiot," she whispered, realization sinking in.
"That woman was a member of Akethros' cult." She told him harshly.
"What?" he looked at her in shock. "Impossible, we wiped them out!"
"They must have smuggled her out before you struck." She murmured, half to herself, half to Imhotep. "Anck-su-namun was some sort of relation to Ah- tesu-na. I saw her often in both her company and the company of Sabef, the high priest."
"How old was she?" he asked, softly,
"Ten maybe eleven," she replied.
He snarled quietly. "She was fourteen when she came to live at the palace as an attendant to the queen."
"They must have planned this for years." Tears burned in his eyes, he blinked them away furiously.
"And longer," she replied softly. "Imhotep, I know you hate the Med-jai and Nefertiri with reason, but part of the deal was to give that hate over. Hating them will only give Akethros power."
"Not an easy thing to do Hathor." He told her, the images of being mummified alive, still as fresh in his mind as if it had happened yesterday. "Not an easy thing at all," he repeated, hands clenching in anger.
She turned his face towards her. "Second chances are never easy brother, screw this up, and you won't get a third. Screw this up and I'll be the one sending you back." She warned and his eyes widened in shock.
"You couldn't!" he hissed.
"I gave my word," She smiled humorlessly. "A Shadowlord never breaks his word. And I will let nothing threaten humanity if I can help it."
He laughed bitterly. "You have changed Hathor, more than you know."
She inclined her head. "As have you,"
He turned back to the window, confused and upset.
***
"Rick, look at this," Evelyn O'Connell called out excitedly as she examined the latest artifacts they had gleaned from the dig site at Thebes.
Rick O'Connell moved over to his wife's side and peered over her shoulder to look at the tablet he couldn't read. "What does it say?" he asked.
"It details the defeat of some sort of cult, by the hands of Imhotep and a group of Med-jai. Apparently, these individuals had killed his sister, the High Priestess of Isis and the wife of one of the Med-jai chieftains." She gently blew the dust away, revealing more of the ornate hieroglyphs.
"Imhotep had a sister?" He asked incredulous.
"A twin in fact. It was a rare occurrence in those days for twins to survive. One or the other usually died before they reached a year old. In most cases, at least one was born stillborn. It was generally considered a good omen for both to survive." She frowned as she read further.
"Hathor was a great seer and healer, it says that she left behind a son when she died, her ashes where cast to the winds…"
"That's odd. Egyptians mummified their dead, especially their honored dead. Hathor was nothing if not honored if I read this correctly." Her brow furrowed in confusion. "This is definitely unusual. Why would they burn her body?"
"Maybe they didn't want her coming back," Rick suggested.
"For what reason? She definitely wasn't evil, diseased, committed no crimes…" She trailed off as she continued to translate.
Rick grinned as he kissed his wife. "Honey, it's ancient history. She ain't the problem her brother was, so why should we worry about it?" he checked his watch. "Damnit, I gotta pick Alex up from the tutor,"
"Rick! Language!" she shot back. He laughed and kissed her again before heading out of the museum.
***
Rick didn't know what hit him. One minute he was driving along a backcountry road to the tutor's home, the next minute, his muscles seized up in a spasm of pain. As he wrestled with the car, he lost control, sending it careening into a tree. He was thrown against the safety harness, knocking the wind out of him. His head cracked against the window, leaving him senseless.
The next thing he could remember were rough, brutal hands dragging him from the wrecked car. He opened blurry eyes to see a man, dressed in slacks and tan shirt peering down at him, grabbing his wrist, the wrist that bore the tattoo. "This is the one."
"What of the boy and the woman?" one of the men holding him asked.
Rick's stomach churned with fear and anger as he began to struggle for all of his considerable worth. They were threatening his wife, his child. They couldn't touch them, not after…
"Shit, he's worse than that other Med-jai!" one of his captor's cursed as he hit Rick with the butt of his rifle. Rick crumpled, loosing consciousness once more.
"Take care of him, he has a concussion. We don't want him dying before it's time." Audric Blackburn warned. "Get Nefertiri and the boy."
***
Soralis raised her head, staring into nothing, seeing everything. Pain, anger and hate flickered across her face as she experienced Rick's capture. "They have him." She stated flatly. The cabdriver looked at her in surprise, she had not spoken for the entire trip. The two Egyptian men flanking her winced. The bearded one spoke rapidly in Arabic. She replied curtly, in the same language and seemed to withdraw into herself.
The trimly bearded man looked at cabdriver. "The museum. If you make it in under ten minutes I'll give you twenty pounds." The cabdriver spun into traffic, flooring it.
Soralis saw all of this take place with a strange detachment as she cast her soul into the sky, forming it into the likeness of an owl. She flew with an owl's silent swiftness, winging her way over the Thames, over tenements and houses the of nobility, towards a small home tucked in a grove of oaks. In it was her target, her son reincarnated into the body of a boy she didn't know.
She flew past the grove's ancient protection with ease, flew into the house, invisible. She screamed as she saw the boy's tutor fighting three armed men, while a third was trying to corner the boy. She became corporeal, became tangible as she launched herself at her son's attacker.
The cultist screamed as a huge, white owl stooped out of nowhere, screaming an owl's battle cry. It stooped, reaching out with razor sharp claws and a wicked beak, ripping into the man's head, laying it open, puncturing the skull. As she mantled her wings, the man fell screaming, fell dying. The other three attacking the man turned towards her. She launched herself towards the closest one, incredibly, impossibly fast.
This cultist too, had little time to react as the huge owl ripped his throat out. The man, finding a second wind ran the poker he was defending himself with into the back of one of the attackers, killing him. Soralis took care of the fourth and last attacker.
She screamed again, triumphantly as she launched herself with powerful wings into the air. The boy cried out as she disappeared as abruptly as she appeared.
Back in the cab Soralis blinked her eyes open and watched silently as they pulled into the museum's parking lot. They clambered out and Ardeth paid the man. Then the three ducked into a side alley, trying to assess the situation.
"How many are in the building Hathor?" Imhotep asked, using her ancient name, refusing to call her by the name she now bore.
"Twenty. In the library are two high level priests and a couple of lesser necromancers. This will not be easy." She told them unnecessarily.
Soralis handed Imhotep the Book Of The Dead and turned towards the locked side entrance. She quickly and expertly picked the locked and motioned them inside.
***
When the cultists burst through the library's door, she was only momentarily startled. Then years of ancient training took over and she fought her attackers, expertly trading blows with men twice her size. She killed one, impaling him on his cohort's sword. Breaking free, she yanked a gun out of another cultist's hand and opened fire on the rest, cleverly weaving in and out of the bookcases. Yet, they kept on coming and she was only one lone woman.
Finally, cornered, with her back to the literal wall, she prepared to go down fighting. Huge, turbaned men crowded her on all sides, swords hemming her in, gun's ready to open fire. Behind them, bodies littered the library, books and shelves torn, shattered. Evelyn O'Connell bravely, fearlessly stood tall; ready to die.
A snarled word in ancient Egyptian echoed in the building and the door to the library crumbled into dust, revealing three people. Evelyn immediately recognized Imhotep. She pressed her back to the wall, thinking that he was the root and cause of this attack.
To her complete and utter surprise, the cultists whirled to confront the three people. Evelyn then recognized the second person, the man on Imhotep's left. "Ardeth?" she whispered.
The third person, she didn't recognize. This person was a tall, white haired woman with gold eyes; dressed in black, complete to black duster. In each hand was what Evelyn assumed was a strange, three-pronged spear. As the dust cleared, she could see that those "spears" were metallic claws extending from the base between each knuckle of her hand.
The cultists charged the two men and woman, ignoring Evelyn. Ardeth leapt into the group of cultists, cutting them down like kindling. Evelyn picked up a sword from a fallen cultist and joined him.
Four of the cultists had surrounded Imhotep and the woman, who stood back to back. Fire, strange creatures, mists and lightening flew between the contestants. Each volley visibly weakened both the cultists and the two in the middle of their circle. One of the cultists cried out as glowing red filaments filled his nostrils, ears and throat, choking him, killing him.
Red lightning struck Imhotep, caging him in a ball of pain. The woman shouted and the red lightning exploded outwards, striking the necromancer, doubling him over. A creature resembling a feathered serpent rose out of the floor, dragging the damned man into the floor, leaving him trapped, cut in two.
Panicked now, the cultists redoubled their efforts. A black mist, shot through with lightning, surrounded both the woman and Imhotep, enveloping them completely, only to be burst apart by glowing things that could not be directly looked at.
The things surrounded the surviving priest and necromancer, who screamed as they struck out, leaving bloody welts behind. The welts themselves darkened, blackened as the cultists began screaming, their wails filling the room as they watched their bodies turn to ash before their eyes.
By that time, Ardeth and Evelyn had taken care of the remaining "ordinary" cultists and watched with grim fascination as the last necromancer crumbled to ash.
"Dear, god." Evelyn breathed out in stunned shock as Imhotep and the woman stepped over the bodies of the magic workers and stood before her and Ardeth.
The woman bowed respectively to Evelyn and turned to Ardeth. "You okay?" she asked.
He nodded. "You two sure don't fool around do you?" he asked lightly, pointing to the fallen cultists.
Imhotep shrugged. "They deserved it," he said his in own tongue and grinned wryly at Evelyn who stood in open-mouthed shock. "Not even a hello?"
"What are you doing here?" she demanded. "And how did he get back?"
"We don't have the time. They have your husband. We must retrieve your boy and go after them before Akethros is set loose," the woman told her. "Do you have a car?"
Evelyn paused. "Yes, I do."
"Good, come on," She and Imhotep turned to leave. Ardeth pulled Evelyn along.
***
Ardeth quickly explained the situation as Evelyn tore through London, driving straight to the tutor's home. "So, what you are telling me is that this cult wants to open a portal to hell, using my husband's life as the key."
"Correct. Once the portal is open, Akethros' armies will destroy everything in their path, leaving him free to take over." Ardeth was grim. "Soralis is the Isisethren. Osiris let us get Imhotep out of Akethros' hands in order to forestall this."
"Can they be trusted?" She demanded.
"Soralis, yes. Imhotep," Ardeth shrugged. "If he becomes troublesome, he knows his own sister will have to send him back."
"So, this Soralis is also Hathor." Evelyn said dryly as they screeched to a stop in front of the tutor's house.
"Yes," Ardeth said simply.
"What a bloody mess," Evelyn sighed.
***
The man had been in shock. Evy quickly called the police and hustled Alex out into the car before the tutor had time to protest. She knew quite well that the police would delay them and cost them valuable time, time that could be spent trying to rescue her husband before they left England.
Alex was not pleased when he saw Imhotep. He was less pleased when he learned that his father had been kidnapped by a group of cultists bent on taking over the world. Evelyn wanted to leave him with her sister.
Imhotep looked grave. "That is not wise my princess. The cult of Akethros has already tried to take you both. Until we deal with them, he will not be safe here in England or anywhere."
"We can't take him with us! It's too dangerous!" she snarled, glaring at her three companions.
"Hey, don't I get a say in this?" Alex blurted out.
"NO!" Evy shouted.
Soralis spoke. "Both the blood of the Med-jai and the blood of the pharohs run through him." She neglected to mention that Alex was also the reincarnation of her son. "This combination combined with his innocence will make him an irresistible attraction to Akethros' cult. He is far safer with us, than without us."
Evy seemed to deflate. "Alright, but if any harm comes to him, I will hunt you both down and kill you." She glared at both of them.
Soralis smiled briefly. More powerful creatures than Evelyn O'Connell had tried to kill her in the past. Now, thanks to the adamintium symbiont that encased her skeleton, it was nearly impossible to truly kill her. "Very well," she replied. "You have my word as a Shadowlord that no harm will befall your son Evelyn O'Connell."
Evelyn nodded and they quickly piled into the car. Alex elected to ride up front with the people he knew best. He still didn't quite trust Imhotep or Soralis. In truth, both scared him.
***
Rick O'Connell moaned as he opened his eyes. He was blindfolded, his hands cuffed behind his and he could feel some sort of collar circling his neck. Rough hands yanked him out of the car and sent him sprawling onto some sort of tarred road. He picked himself up and he could hear people moving around him. Something leaned over him and he could hear a click as a chain was attached to the collar circling his neck.
"Move!" a harsh voice commanded as it yanked on the chain. He blindly lurched to his feet as it threatened to choke him. He was lead, stumbling up some sort of stairs and into a plane. He knew this by the vibration of the floor under his feet. They strapped him to a chair and told if he tried to escape or made trouble for them, he would be beaten and worse.
"Where are we going?" he asked. "Who are you people?"
Laughter met his question and the breath exploded out of his lungs as somebody punched him, doubling him over in his own seat. "Shut up," the voice commanded.
For once, he wisely did as he was told.
