ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Bringing the car to a stop, Jonathan glanced for the fortieth time at the Medjai sleeping peacefully in the passenger seat. He knew he should wake him, but it seemed too unkind, so, instead, Jonathan sighed and turned to begin his fifth loop around the airport. Looking up just as the wheels started to move, he saw a figured standing a few feet in front of the car and reflexively slammed on the brakes. He grimaced as Ardeth jolted awake.

On the floorboards, the sudden stop also brought Alex awake with a start. His eyes darted around the vehicle as he tried to recollect where he was.

"Sorry about that, old boy." He heard from the front seat...and remembered.

Carefully stretching his stiff body, Alex peaked his head up to see what was happening. His jaw dropped as he caught sight of the figure standing in front of the car. She wasn't English, he decided as he studied her. Alex assumed it to be a 'her', anyway, since a prettily embroidered silvery burqa covered her.

"One of your 'Abadi'?" Jonathan inquired of Ardeth. The waves of pain send surging through him by the sudden, jerking stop left the Medjai unable to speak. He managed a nod, however. Concerned by Ardeth's discomfort, Jonathan decided it might help to get him out of the car. He turned to open his door, only to discover it was already opening, as were the rear and passenger doors.

"Hey, wait just a...," Jonathan shouted, lunging for Ardeth as hands pulled the warrior from the vehicle. A hand on his own shoulder quickly distracted the Englishman. Flinching away, Jonathan turned to see an imposing figure looking down at him with a patient smile. The man's clothes were the same silvery color as the burqa and he had a scimitar tucked into his sash, leading Jonathan to the conclusion he was an Abadi warrior.

"Please, come with me," the warrior asked, beckoning with his hand.

Hesitant, Jonathan glanced around and saw two other warriors carefully carrying Ardeth away. A woman followed closely behind, carrying the Devourer's weapons. Jonathan watched helplessly for a moment, before a scuffle behind him caught his attention. Turning, he saw his nephew pulled from the backseat by another burqa-shrouded Abadi, and his heart skipped a beat.

"Alex...," he hissed under his breath, shaking his head. The child shrugged, apologetically.

"Please come with us. You have our word you will not be harmed," assured the woman holding Alex by the collar.

With Alex and Ardeth both in the hands of the Abadi, Jonathan saw no other option but to comply and, with a sigh, crawled out of the car. The woman bowed, slightly, before stepping in the direction the others had taken Ardeth. Her hand on Alex's head gently guided the child ahead of her. The Abadi warrior gestured for Jonathan to follow and waited for the Englishman to move, before falling in step behind him.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Escorted to the open doorway of a small, rather innocuous looking hotel room, Jonathan entered nervously. Not at all keen on the idea of being trapped, he spun around as he heard the door close behind him. To his dismay, he found himself staring into the neck of the warrior he'd 'met' at the car. Backing up a few steps, Jonathan studied the imposing Abadi standing, arms folded authoritatively, in front of the only obvious exit.

"It is not our intent to keep you prisoner." Jonathan spun back around to face the woman whose hand remained, firmly but gently, resting on his nephew's head. "You may leave when you wish. Johari will not prevent it."

Jonathan smiled, tightly, more than a little uncomfortable with the situation.

"I take it he's 'Johari'," he replied coolly, thumbing in the direction of the warrior at the door. "And you would be?"

"I am Najat," the woman responded, politely bowing her head. "You are not O'Connell."

Despite his tension, Jonathan chuckled at the matter-of-fact statement. "No. I am not O'Connell; I'm the thorn in his side."

Najat cocked her head to one side, puzzled by the Englishman's reply.

"Jonathan Carnahan, O'Connell's brother-in-law," he clarified. Najat bowed her head to acknowledge the introduction.

"And you are Alex O'Connell," she stated, inclining her head to look at the child.

"Yes, ma'am," Alex tentatively replied, turning his head to look up at her. "What do want from us?"

Again, Najat tilted her head, contemplatively. "Want from you? We want nothing, child. The Abadi did not seek you; you sought the Abadi. What do you want from us?"

"Well, Ardeth, for a start, ma'am."

Despite the burqa, Jonathan could tell from her eyes that she smiled as she lifted her hand off the child's head and made a gesture to her left. Both he and Alex reflexively glanced over, each noticing for the first time a door to an adjoining room.

"A request easily granted, child," Najat quipped.

Alex exchanged glances with his uncle, before bolting toward the door. Throwing it open, he instantly spotted the Medjai.

"Ardeth!" He cried, dashing to the bed on which the warrior rested. Startled, Ardeth wearily opened his eyes. It took a moment for him to focus on Alex and see the worry etched across his little face.

"Do not be concerned, young O'Connell. I am fine," Ardeth croaked, attempting a smile, but not quite succeeding.

Alex grinned, too relieved to be back at the warrior's side to worry about the weakness of Ardeth's voice. Crawling up on the bed, he sighed contentedly as he curled up next to the Medjai.

Instinctively, Ardeth draped his arm comfortingly around Alex, then, closed his eyes again. He was too uncomfortable to fall asleep, but too tired to move, so he simply lay there, trying to will the pain and fever away.

"He is unwell," Najat observed, walking up behind Jonathan, as he stood in the doorway watching his nephew and Ardeth.

"Yes, ma'am." Turning slighting, he cast his eyes downward and explained. "That's the reason we sought the Abadi."

Jonathan expected more questions, but Najat simply bowed slightly and slipped past him. As she moved toward the bed, she made some sort of gesture he only vaguely caught out of the corner of his eye. Registering a sudden burst of activity as the other Abadi rushed to comply with the non-verbal command, Jonathan wished he'd paid more attention. It was obviously a handy little gesture to know when in the company of Abadi.

"With your permission, honored Medjai, we will attend you," Najat requested, her tone soft and soothing. Standing at the bedside, she respectfully waited for a response from Ardeth.

Wearily opening his eyes, the Medjai studied the Abadi for several seconds, before nodding, slightly. Acknowledging the consent, Najat bowed and began gently loosening his sash. Ardeth held up his hand, stopping her, and she quickly backed away. He frowned, sheepishly, realizing he'd likely given her the impression he was displeased, when in truth, he'd only meant to help. Even with the increasing fuzziness of his brain, he grasped that it would be easier to remove the sash if he weren't laying on it.

"Careful!" Alex hissed, as he, Jonathan and Najat rushed to help the Medjai rise.

"Relax. I've got you," Jonathan muttered, feeling the tension in the warrior's body as he held him upright while the sash was speedily removed. Jonathan found it interesting that she didn't also remove the Medjai's robe. Instead, Najat slid it down enough to briefly examine the back of the wounded shoulder, then, pulled it up again, before helping lay Ardeth back down.

Ardeth had to bit his lip to keep from groaning as he sat up, but it slipped out, soft and clipped, as they eased him back onto the mattress. Closing his eyes, he prayed to Allah for strength.

Concerned by the weariness and pain on Ardeth's face, Alex barely noticed as Najat stepped away from the bed. However, he did a double-take when she returned. There was something different; he wasn't sure what exactly, but there was definitely something. He studied her, as she carefully set a basin of water on the nightstand, and it finally clicked. She'd gotten shorter.

"You're not Najat!" Alex declared, accusatorily.

"I am Widad," the Abadi stated, with a slight bow, before backing away and returning to the adjoining room.

Alex refocused on Ardeth, his worry growing as he noticed that the fine beads of sweat on the Medjai's forehead had grown large enough to trickle down. Glancing around, Alex searched for a cloth to wipe them away, but didn't spot anything handy and turned to shout for someone to bring something. An Abadi floated thru the doorway, cloth in hand, before the request could be voiced. As she set some supplies on the stand and soaked the cloth, Alex studied her. He found himself unable to decide if it were Widad or Najat.

"Najat?" He asked, hesitantly, as the woman turned to face him. His brow wrinkled with confusion when she made no move toward Ardeth.

"I am Zaynab," the woman replied, simply, bowing slightly before backing away as Widad had.

Alex huffed in frustration. He'd grown weary of the Abadi and their burqas and their generally lack of communication. Exasperated, he glanced at the doorway, saw one of the women approaching and quickly looked away. He'd lost interest in playing the 'who's under the burqa' game.

"The burqas are not worn to tease you, child," Najat quipped, earning an indignant glare from Alex. He'd also grown weary of being called 'child'.

"Yeah, right. So why are they worn?" he growled, sarcastically. "And the name is Alex!"

"Alex," Jonathan chastised, but the Abadi raised her hand to shush him.

Najat studied Alex for a moment. She'd understood the question was not sincere, but sensed his growing frustration and hoped an answer would make him more comfortable.

"Burqas are worn by different tribes for different reasons. When we are amongst outsiders, the Abadi wear them for protection," she explained, snatching the cloth from the basin and swirling it across Ardeth's feverish skin. The Medjai half-heartedly listened to the conversation, as the soft caress of the cloth and the blissful coolness of the water lulled him toward sleep.

"Protection? What do you mean?" Jonathan questioned, finding the conversation oddly interesting.

"The Abadi are a matriarchal society," Najat explained.

"A what?" Alex asked, curiosity overcoming his hostility.

"She means the women are in charge," his uncle clarified.

"Oh! So you have a queen, instead of a king?"

"Yes," Najat replied.

"And you wear the burqas so that nobody knows which one of you it is?"

Najat nodded.

"But you don't wear them if just your people are around?" Alex quizzed.

"No," she stated, as she dropped the cloth back into the basin. "Nor is it a law that we must wear them amongst outsiders, it is simply a custom."

Alex nodded and glanced back down at Ardeth. Too his relief, he saw that the Medjai seemed more relaxed, possibly even asleep. When Alex looked up again, Najat was gone.

"Hey! Where'd she go?"

Jonathan thumbed over his shoulder, indicating she'd returned to the other room. Twisting around to glance past his uncle, Alex gaped as he saw a woman approaching them wearing an intricately crocheted, silvery shawl draped around her, in place of a burqa.

Jonathan's jaw also dropped as he admired the woman's high cheekbones and full lips. Her eyes captured his attention most, however. He almost seemed to drown in their depths. Seeing his uncle's reaction, Alex giggled, breaking the spell and sending a chagrined blush across Jonathan's face.

"N...N...Najat?" Jonathan stammered, as she floated up to the side of the bed.

"Yes," she replied, with a slight bow. Glancing at Alex, she smiled, sweetly. "I hoped this might make you more at ease, chi...Alex."

"You didn't have to," Alex responded. Grasping the enormity of the gesture, he returned a sincere smile. "But it does, tha...shukran."

Satisfied that both Alex and Jonathan were sufficiently disarmed, Najat focused on Ardeth. Slipping a finger beneath the edge of his robe, she gingerly pulled it aside to reveal his bandaged shoulder and ribs.

The gentle touch provoked a soft sigh from the Medjai, as it dragged him back to awareness. The few minutes of sleep had cleared some of the fog from his weary brain, but Ardeth knew it wouldn't last. Determined to seek the answers to his questions before the fuzziness returned, he reluctantly opened his eyes. His browed furrowed at the unexpected sight that greeted him.

Becoming aware of Ardeth's scrutiny, Najat reflexively adjusted her shawl, carefully tucking back a few renegade slips of hair.

"Najat?" He croaked. The rarity of an Abadi uncovering amongst outsiders left him a little uncertain if she were real or a dream.

"Yes, it is I," Najat answered softly, before turning toward the nightstand to open up a wrapped bundle Widad had left by the water basin.

"What's that?" Alex asked, curiously. Distractedly rising up to get a better view, he lost his balance.

"Careful!" Jonathan hissed, steadying the youngster before he fell into the Medjai. However, he'd caught him a moment too late to prevent the child's knee from brushing against Ardeth's side.

Ardeth's eyes closed tightly as a wave of pain radiated out from his swollen abdominal wound and tender ribs, provoking a hiss that he wasn't able to stifle. Najat spun around and quickly slipped a hand into his, providing the warrior something to grip besides the bedding as he arch his back against the pain.

"S...s...sorry, Ardeth. I didn't mea...," Alex muttered, tears welling in his eyes. Ardeth cut him off with a weak wave of his hand, but it was another minute before he could catch his breath to speak.

"D..do...not...con..cern...your...self...young...O...Con...nell," Ardeth finally managed to gasp. He wanted to say more to comfort the child, but simply couldn't get it out. Instead, he forced his eyes open enough to glance at Alex and managed a weak, pained smile.

"It was not intended, Alex. Do not trouble yourself," Najat soothed, maternally.

Alex sniffed, but managed a quivering smile. Wiping away his tears, he carefully scooted toward the edge of the bed, unwilling to take a chance he might accidentally hurt Ardeth again. He'd intended to get down, but paused when the Medjai reached out for him.

"Stay," Ardeth whispered, managing to catch the child's hand. It seemed dishonorable to allow Alex to leave so dejectedly after bravely sitting by his side for so many hours.

"But what if..."

Alex's protests faded away as Ardeth tugged weakly on his hand. Fresh tears welled in the child's eyes as he felt the warrior's frailty. For the first time since his father had pulled Ardeth off the sword, Alex seriously considered the possibility Ardeth might actually die, and it banished any desire to leave the Medjai's side. Lying back down on the bed and curling into a fetal position, he clung to the warrior's arm. Closing his eyes, Alex let his tears flowed freely. Exhausted, he quickly fell asleep. Feeling the tears dampen his arm, Ardeth sighed.

"It is good that he sleeps," Najat soothed.

"Yeah, don't worry about Alex. He's a plucky little bugger...be right as rain after some sleep," Jonathan chimed in, taking his cue from the Abadi.

"Yes, he is ...strong...much like...his parents," Ardeth croaked, closing his eyes. Najat smiled, sadly, and turned back toward the nightstand to finish what she'd started.

"You never did say what it was you were up to," Jonathan observed, feeling it his duty to take on the role of Ardeth's protector now that Alex had fallen asleep.

Najat glanced over her shoulder, briefly studying the curious Englishman. "I am mixing herbs, which, I hope, will ease some of the his pain and reduce his fever."

"Oh, well then, carry on," Jonathan mumbled. After a tolerant bow, the Abadi returned to her work. Jonathan continued to watch, curiously, as she blended several herbs into a small cup filled with water. Holding it carefully in one hand, Najat turned towards Ardeth.

"Honored Medjai," she whispered, respectfully, and waited for him to open his eyes.

"Najat, ti'raf 'ismee," he whispered. Reluctantly opening his eyes, Ardeth raised a bemused eyebrow at the formality of his long-time friend. ("Najat, you know my name.")

"Zai ma terid," Najat replied, torn between the urge to frown, disapprovingly, or smile with amusement. Custom dictated that she not use his name amongst outsiders, but then she'd already broken with custom by removing her burqa. ("As you wish.")

"Heeey," Jonathan whined, before either could speak again. "Could we keep it in English?"

"My apologies," Najat replied, bowing politely, before returning her attention to Ardeth. "Will you drink this?"

The Medjai nodded, gratefully, and allowed her to support his head as he drank the concoction. Relief washed through him as he immediately recognized the unpleasant taste of the medicine. Ardeth was certain it would be strong enough to ease his pain. Downing the last swallow, the knowledge made him smile ever so slightly. Throughout the journey from the bed to the airport, he'd clung to the hope the Abadi had brought medicines with them, knowing that the herbal remedies were stronger than Dr. Hamilton's aspirin. Ardeth didn't fault the physician, aware that his attempts to ease the discomfort had been sincere; they'd simply not been particularly effective.

"Shukran," he whispered, with sincerity. As Najat removed her hand, allowing his head to rest upon the pillow once more, Ardeth closed his eyes. He sighed, contentedly, as the medicine quickly went to work dulling his pain.

Najat placed the cup back on the nightstand and meticulously rebundled the herbs, allowing time for the medicine to spread throughout his body. Turning back after a few minutes, she carefully slid his robe aside to inspect the abdominal wound. The whispery touch of the shifting fabric sent pain screaming out from his over-wrought nerves, forcing a hiss from Ardeth that brought a frown to Najat's face. She was certain that she'd given the medicine enough time to dull his pain; the wound had to be very serious to have still provoked such a response.

Almost fearfully, Najat carefully removed the bandage, refusing to glance at the wound until she could focus on it fully. Ardeth clenched the bed sheet in response to her gentle touch, but she refused to let it distract her. Tossing the bloodied bandage aside, Najat finally looked at the wound and nearly gasped at the severity of the infection. However, the wound was not great in size - at least she didn't think so, with the areas so badly swollen, it was hard to tell. Studying it thoroughly, Najat's frowned deepened as she spotted foreboding signs that the infection had already spread beyond the injury. She turned back toward the nightstand, with a sigh, and prepared a poultice, despite the sinking feeling that it would not be enough.

Jonathan had been determined not to look, but still caught enough of a glimpse to realize that Ardeth was in worse shape than he'd thought. Certain that all the moving around hadn't helped, he sighed, feeling more than a little guilty. Rick and Evy were going to kill him for helping Ardeth leave, especially if the Medjai didn't recover.

"You worry for your friend?" Najat asked, although it was more of a statement.

"I worry about what my sister and her husband are going do to me for not sending him straight back to bed," the Englishman responded, glumly.

"They are good friends?"

Jonathan's brow wrinkled for a moment before grasping the question. "Ah! You mean Rick, Evy and Ardeth?"

Najat nodded.

Jonathan shrugged. "Suppose so. I've never really thought about it."

Although she said nothing, Jonathan frowned, sensing that his answer had somehow displeased the Abadi. It made him wonder if it were important for some reason. Before he could ponder it further, he saw a troubled expression on Najat's face.

"Is there something wrong?"

"If it would not be too much trouble, I need some ice...for the swelling."

Jonathan nodded. "Back in a jiff."

Najat bowed her head, appreciatively, and watched him leave, before grabbing the poultice from the nightstand. An amused smile lit her face as she turned to place it on Ardeth's wound.

Ardeth tried, but failed, to bite back a moan as the poultice pressed against his injured flesh. Cracking his eyes open, his brow wrinkled at the unexpected sight of Najat's grin.

"What is amusing?" he asked. His weariness made him sound a bit peevish, causing Najat to instantly grow serious.

"My apologies," she began, but Ardeth waved away her concern, so she simply answered his question. "The Englishman is fetching ice..."

"Yes, I heard."

Najat frowned. She'd assumed he was dozing when she'd discussed him with Jonathan. Despite the brief duration of the conversation, it made her uncomfortable to realize he had heard.

"Why is this amusing?" Ardeth inquired, sleepily.

"He believes he will return 'in a jiff,' but that is not possibly. There is no place to fetch ice in this hotel, he must seek it elsewhere."

"This will take some time?" Ardeth asked, growing a little more alert.

"Yes," Najat replied, turning slightly to face him. She sensed from his tone that that he was leading somewhere.

"Then you must tell me now how to stop the curse?" Ardeth demanded. Intently gazing at her, he suddenly appeared fully awake. Startled by the abrupt shift, it took Najat a few seconds to grasp the significance of the question.

"The wounds...?"

"Were inflicted with the Devourer's weapons," Ardeth finished for her. Najat closed her eyes and sighed, mournfully.

"I feared as much," she informed him, remorsefully. "The curse cannot be stopped."

The Medjai's brow narrowed, determinedly, his eyes darkening as his gaze grew more intense.

"I do not accept that! There is _always_ a way. You will tell me," Ardeth demanded, his voice low, almost menacing.

"I cannot tell you of what I do not know," Najat insisted, regretfully. "It cannot be stopped."

Unconsciously growling in frustration, instead of pain, Ardeth abruptly pulled himself up. His hand draped reflexively over the poultice, holding it in place over his wound as he rested against the wall, glowering at the resolute Abadi. Najat fidgeted under the intensity of his gaze, but gave no indication of yielding, and, after a minute, Ardeth relented. Letting his head fall back, he closed his eyes and sighed. Another minute passed, before he softly whispered a single word, his voice filled with desperation.

"Please."

He heard Najat sigh and felt a tickle of hope. Lifting his head, he opened his eyes and look at her.

"You must care very deeply for this person," she stated, although it was more of a question. Najat had heard of the O'Connells, but never from Ardeth. He rarely spoke of the outside world when he visited the Abadi.

"Evelyn is a friend," Ardeth replied, as though it explained everything.

Najat studied him, contemplatively, then, raised a perplexed eyebrow. "A friend that appears to have earnestly tried to kill you."

Ardeth said nothing. Not entirely sure of what had happened, he was at a loss to explain it to Najat. The Medjai felt certain, however, that he must've done something to provoke Evelyn's attack. His brain was just too weary to figure out exactly what. Letting his head rest against the wall, Ardeth closed his eyes. Almost immediately, the image of Evelyn's rage-filled expression flashed before him, sending a shudder through him as his eyes flew open again.

"Evelyn would not have intentionally done so without provocation," Ardeth finally whispered, but it lacked conviction. His next statement did not, however. Regardless of the reason for the attack, the blame was his. Evelyn would not be in danger had he retrieved the weapons before they were bloodied. "I cannot, will not, let her suffer when it is I that am at fault."

Najat's brow furrowed. Many emotions had danced across his features during his silence, but too quickly for the Abadi to interpret. There had, however, been one emotion easily recognized. It was doubt - of that Najat had none. However, she knew the Medjai well enough to be certain he would never openly admit it to her.

"Please, my old friend," Ardeth repeated his plea in a soft, desperate whisper.

Najat frowned. She knew what the outcome would be were she to give him the answers he sought, and wasn't certain she could bear it. Still, she could not deny him, either. He had accompanied the Abadi to England as her guest, as so was her responsibility. Whatever the truth of the matter, Ardeth believed himself at fault. Her duty demanded that she provide him the means to make amends, even if it cost him his life.

"As I have stated, the curse cannot be stopped; Al 'Asima will claim Evelyn's soul," she began, after a reluctant sigh. Lifting his head to glare at her, Ardeth opened his mouth to object, but Najat raised her hand, pleading for patience. "However, while you still live, it is possible that her soul may not be destroyed."

Ardeth sighed, relief washing over him. Letting his head fall back again, he closed his eyes and listened.

"Upon death, Al 'Asima's judgment is immediate. But, so long as your soul remains tethered to your body, Evelyn has three days to prove herself deserving of mercy. To do this, she must reach the sacred sarcophagus. Locked within is the Amulet of Souls, which Evelyn must wear in order to submit herself to Al 'Asima for judgment," Najat elaborated.

"The weapons will unlock it?" Ardeth speculated, drowsily.

The Abadi nodded.

Ardeth lifted his head, once more, his forehead wrinkling in consternation. "It is that simple?"

Najat sighed, unhappily, remembering of the doubt she'd seen in his face. "It is simple, but not certain. If, as you believe, the fault is not hers, her soul will be judged innocent and set free. But, I warn you, if Al 'Asima finds the fault does lie with her, her soul will be destroyed."

Closing his eyes, Ardeth inhaled as deeply as his injuries would allow. The memory of Evelyn's rage-filled expression flashed before him, but this time he did not flee from it. Keeping his eyes closed, Ardeth tried, as he had many times, to clearly recall, what had happened, but it was no use. His feverish brain simply refused. Without certainty of the events, Ardeth knew it was too great a risk to allow Evelyn's actions to be judged. Opening his eyes, he sighed his breath out slowly, before focusing again on Najat.

"There must be another way," he insisted, determinedly. "I ask you, what else may be done?"

Najat sighed, dejectedly. She'd prayed he would not ask, but knew he would. "As her victim, you may stand in her place."

"That is what must be done," Ardeth declared, resolutely, his eyes lighting up with hope.

She'd known he would choose it the moment his questions began. However, that did not prevent her from staring at Ardeth, incredulously.

"Ardeth, you must understand, this has never before been done. I do not know by what Al 'Asima will make her judgment."

"It is what must be," Ardeth replied, matter-of-factly, as he closed his eyes.

"You are willing to risk your soul for this person!?" Najat questioned, appalled that he would even consider such a thing. "Surely this is more than friendship, more even than honor, demands!"

Ardeth carefully shook his head. "Were I to allow the destruction of Evelyn's soul when it was within my power to prevent it, my soul would never find peace, even in Paradise."

Dismayed, Najat simply nodded, compliantly. She could tell that he would not be swayed. He was determined to sacrifice himself, and, as she has sent him on the errand that started it, she was honor-bound to help him.

"If this must be done, we should depart at once," Najat muttered, sad resignation coating her voice. "I will arrange it."

"Arrange what?" Jonathan asked, returning to the bedside with a small bucket of ice. "Ardeth, old boy, wasn't expecting to see you sitting up."

Ardeth opened his eyes and nodded, very slightly, to acknowledge the Englishman, before shifting uncomfortably and closing his eyes again.

"Arrangements to leave England," Najat answered Jonathan, taking the filled ice bucket he handed her.

"To go back to Egypt?"

"Yes," Najat confirmed. Quickly bundling some ice into a towel, she gently lifted Ardeth's hand aside to place the ice over the poultice. Ardeth squirmed slightly in response to the added pressure, but draped his hand over the top to secure it.

"Oh, well then, isn't it time we let Rick and Evy in on what's up?" Jonathan inquired.

"No!" Ardeth exclaimed, his eyes flying open and fixing on the Englishman.

"But..," Jonathan began to argue.

"NO!" Ardeth repeated, adamantly. "I have been given the answers I sought and now know what is required to save Evelyn. All that remains it to carry it out."

Jonathan breathed a sigh of relief. Despite Ardeth's determination, he'd worried that there wouldn't be a way to stop the curse.

"That's excellent! But, really, shouldn't we...?"

"There is nothing O'Connell can do," Ardeth interrupted, truthfully, hoping the Englishman would not notice he'd only referred to one O'Connell. Jonathan could not inform them of what he was about to attempt; it would only cause them pain. "As it was my blood that was spilled, it is I that must remedy the situation. Informing the O'Connells will do nothing but increase the risk to Evelyn."

"All right," Jonathan hesitantly agreed, wishing he hadn't missed the conversation the Medjai and the Abadi had apparently had during his absence. Ardeth was obviously leaving something out - something that the sick feeling in Jonathan's stomach hinted was important.

"You must swear you will not speak of it to them," Ardeth insisted. Jonathan looked puzzled for moment - he could hardly mention it to them while he was on his way to Cairo, and they were in London. Then it dawned on him that the Medjai intended to leave him in London, as well.

"Hey! Wait a minute! I am coming with you, you know," he adamantly informed them.

"Jonath..."

It was Jonathan's turn to interrupt Ardeth.

"No! Don't even suggest it. I'm coming with you, and that's all there is to it!"

Ardeth said nothing verbally, but his eyes spoke volumes.

"Please, Ardeth. She's my sister; let me see this through to the end," Jonathan pleaded. He saw the Medjai's eyes soften and breathed an internal sigh of relief. "Besides, you can't send me back now. They'll kill me for helping you leave!"

"It is true, and I do not wish to carry the responsibility of your death," Ardeth jested, a corner his mouth curving up ever so slightly. Convincing Jonathan to stay behind would require more strength than he could spare. The Englishman would travel with them, but he would not be told of what was to come.

"Good. All settled, then?" Jonathan asked, just to be certain, and Ardeth nodded wearily.

"I will make arrangement to have the child taken home," Najat offered, seeing that the two men had settled their disagreement.

"Have the child what? Taken where? Wait a minute! What's going on!" Alex quizzed, groggily, still three-quarters asleep. Ardeth cringed at the sound of his voice. He'd prayed the child would stay asleep until after they left.

"We must return to Egypt; you must return home," Ardeth announced, closing his eyes tightly against the argument he knew would come.

"Uh-uuh! I'm going with you!" Alex shouted, sitting up on his knees to glare obstinately at the Medjai.

"Alex!" Jonathan hissed, but his nephew simply rolled his eyes and returned his attention to Ardeth.

"You cannot travel with us without your parents' knowledge, and we haven't time to inform them," Ardeth wearily attempted to reason.

"We'll ring them," Alex countered.

"Young O'Connell, it simply isn't...,"Ardeth began, but Alex interrupted, recognizing the slightly condescending tone of voice that grown-ups used to refuse him without a giving a good reason.

"You can have someone take me home, if you want, but I'll just sneak away and follow on my own," Alex challenged, rebelliously. "And we both know I'm a lot more likely to get into trouble on my own, than with you!"

Ardeth and Jonathan sighed simultaneously, while Najat attempted to stifle a chuckle.

"I may assume the child will be traveling with us, as well?" she queried, valiantly attempting to stay composed. Ardeth nodded, grumpily. "Widad and Zaynab shall inform his parents, so that they may follow."

Ardeth frowned. He didn't want them to follow; they would try to prevent him from doing what he must, and Evelyn would be lost.

"Do not be concerned," Najat assured, realizing, after a moment, what had displeased him. "There will be sufficient time to do what must be done, before they arrive."

Ardeth nodded and closed his eyes, as Najat bowed slightly to excuse herself. The plan left him wary, but there seemed little alternative. Nothing short of tying the child up would prevent Alex from following, and it would be unkind to leave the O'Connells without knowledge of their son's whereabouts. Najat seemed confident that it would not cause them difficulty; he would have to trust her.

"What must be done before they arrive?" Alex inquired, but received no response from the dozing Medjai. "Ardeth!"

"Let him sleep, Alex," Jonathan softly hissed, snagging his nephew's hand as it reached over to shake Ardeth's arm. "You can ask him later."

Alex shrugged and shifted to sit on the bed, stretching his legs out in front of him, to relieve the pressure on his scraped-up knees. It seemed strange to him that they would suddenly start bothering him now. After all, he'd been kneeling on them, of and on, for a while. Alex decided he must have been too distracted to notice, with Ardeth and the Abadi and everything. Pulling himself backward to rest against the wall next to Ardeth, his eyes slowly drifted shut as he contemplated the slight stinging.

The early hour caught up to Jonathan as he stood by himself in the silence, watching Ardeth and his nephew dozing. Glancing around, he spotted a chair. It didn't look very comfortable, but he decided it would do. After all, Najat was making arrangement for them to leave, so he wouldn't be sitting on it very long. Wandering over drowsily, Jonathan picked it up and quietly brought it over to the nightstand. Sinking onto it, he rested his arm on the stand and his head on his arm, before closing his eyes - just for a second - while he waited for Najat to come back.

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