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"You are weary; you should rest," Najat remarked, kneeling on the floor in front Alex.

Focused on the Medjai sleeping soundly in the seat next to him, Alex didn't bother to answer. He was certain he'd never seen anyone so pale or so still, except, perhaps when his mum... "No, don't think about that," he whispered to himself. "Ardeth isn't dead; he's just sleeping."

"Of course he is only sleeping."

Unaware that he'd spoken aloud, Najat's response startled Alex. Regaining his voice, he replied, "yes, ma'am."

Alex continued to stare at her, wanting to ask if Ardeth was getting better, and have Najat say that he was. But he knew she wouldn't - because Ardeth wasn't getting better. Sighing, Alex turned his head toward the Medjai, reluctant to look away again, even when he felt a gentle hand wrap around his leg and hold it in place, as a soft touch tended his scrapes.

"Do not grieve for him yet, child," Najat whispered, seeing the sadness in his face. "You cannot be certain of what the future will bring."

Alex hesitantly turned to face her, again. His chin quivering, he responded, tearfully.

"He's so sick."

"Yes. He is very ill," Najat replied, matter-of-factly. Surprised by her bluntness, Alex stared at her, aghast.

"You would have me deny what you already know to be truth?" She asked, rhetorically, glancing up, briefly, as she switched knees. Alex shrugged and turned his head toward Ardeth again. He'd known she wouldn't lie, but had expected something more soothing than that.

"He's too sick."

Najat barely heard the child's soft whisper.

"And who decides this?" she queried. Looking at her, Alex shrugged again.

"He's just so weak." To his surprise surprised, Alex heard the Abadi chuckle.

"I would not allow Ardeth Bey to hear you call him weak."

Alex made a face. "You know what I mean!"

"Yes, child," Najat admitted. "He is weary - both in body and soul."

"What do you mean?" Alex asked. His brow furrowing, he puzzled over the words she'd chosen. Silently, Najat reached for his scraped hand, but Alex pulled it away. "Najat?"

"I mean just as I have said," she stated, patiently. "The toll of his recent battle weighs heavily on both his body and his soul; perhaps the weight is too much for Ardeth Bey to continue to carry."

Alex's lip trembled as he grasped that the battle she referred to was against the Army of Anubis. It had been fought because he'd put on the bracelet and led the way to Ahm Shere...but everything had turned out all right. At least, that was what he'd told himself as he waved farewell to Ardeth from Izzy's balloon. It had been easy to ignore the Medjai's tattered clothing and the streaks of blood and dirt, because Ardeth had obviously survived - so no more thought had been given to it. Ardeth had risked everything to save him; then, they'd just floated away and left him without even wondering what had happened outside the pyramid. Turning his head to watch Ardeth sleep, tears welled in his eyes as he grasped that everything had not turned out all right - not for the Medjai.

"He is too sick, isn't he? Too tired?"

"Do not grieve yet, Alex O'Connell," Najat soothed, as tears trickled onto the child's cheeks. He didn't resist a second time as she reached for his injured hand and gently tended it. "Strength surrounds him, he need only accept it."

Unable to figure out what she meant, Alex's brow furrowed, again. Between the steady vibration of the plane and Najat's soothing voice, his eyes were finding it hard to stay open, so he closed them while he thought it over, and slowly drifted to sleep.

Jonathan quickly closed eyes as Najat stood and walked past his seat. The volume of the conversation had been kept low enough to make it clear she'd intended it for his nephew's ears only, so he didn't want her to realize he'd listened. Jonathan knew there was more to it than embarrassment, however. He had heard something in her tone...something he could pin down exactly, but it made him nervous. He wanted time to figure it out before talking to her again.

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Growing weary of the scenery, Evy turned away from the window and fondly studied her sleeping husband. She knew it was his way of escaping the frustrated, helpless feeling gnawing at both of them as the Clipper crawled toward Cairo, hours behind the plane carrying Ardeth and their son. Evy dearly long to escape into oblivion as well, but her brain wouldn't stop spinning long enough to let her. Stretching, she decided to try distracting herself and pulled the journal from her bag. It didn't take long to find her spot, but instead of starting the next entry, Evy felt a sudden urge to reread what she read earlier that morning. So much had happened in the few hours in between, those peaceful moments in the kitchen seemed like a dream. She wanted to be certain they hadn't been.

"Allah be praised! Ardeth's fever has broken at last. It happened very late in the night, just as it seemed death had finally, mercifully, arrived to claim him. He'd struggled for so many hours, there seemed no strength left, of body or will, and then he'd grown so still, even Fathi was certain that Ardeth has passed. He could not bring himself to reach out to him, for fear of confirming it. Neither could I. But dear, steady Badi'a did. I could hardly believe her words when she said he still lived and his fever had relented. Ardeth has not awoken, but it matters not. Once again, we dare hope. It is a great gift from Allah."

Evy unconsciously sighed with relief. Even a second time, the words seemed almost magical - as though it were her Ardeth it spoke of, and he couldn't die, because the journal said he didn't. She knew it was silly, but some of the tension released from her muscles, all the same. Settling back, a smile graced Evy's lips as she continued on to the next passage.

"Allah be merciful, I no longer know what to pray. It seemed a great gift had been given us when Ardeth's fever finally broke, but that fever has so devastated his body that I dare not assume my nephew can recover. That he will continue to live is not even certain. And I know not whether to pray that for his life or pray that Allah mercifully allows his soul to join his family in Paradise. Fathi speaks as though his brother were likely to bound up from his bed at any moment, and Badi'a, always so steady, is adamant in her belief that Ardeth will recover, but Dabir - oh, my brother! - will not even enter the tent. Instead, he continually rides with the patrols, almost refusing to even show his face in camp. It is clear that he grieves for his heir as though the fever had claimed him, as we all believed it would. Perhaps it yet will...

Ardeth has not woken for more than a few precious minutes at a time and seems hardly aware of anything even then. Perhaps Allah is merciful in this, for I cannot be certain that he knows of Dabir's absence. I know it would grieve my nephew to know of it, for he and Dabir have always enjoyed a great closeness. But for the moment, it likely matters not as I am certain that he could not see his father were he here. Badi'a behaves as though she has not noticed, but Fathi has. I clearly saw the fear in his eyes when Ardeth first awoke, even greater fear than when it seemed certain his brother breathed his last breaths. There is no light in Ardeth's eyes. No sign of any kind that they see anything at all. Nor am I certain that he hears us, for he reacts not at all to our voices. Badi'a will not speak of it. Fathi speaks only in jests, taunting his brother for his laziness, but there is fear in his voice. It is the same fear that dwells in my heart. The fear that Ardeth's soul clung so desperately to body that is too devastated to serve him any longer. What life will there be for him?"

Evy didn't realize she was trembling until the tears trickled onto her cheeks. She raised a shaky hand to wipe them away. Taking a deep, hiccuppy breath to steady herself, she closed her eyes, then the journal, and let her head rest against Rick's shoulder. Her mind couldn't even fathom that her Ardeth could ever be as physically weak as the words described, but her heart grieved for the journal Ardeth. She didn't even bother to tell herself she shouldn't. The words had caught her too unprepared to react any other way. Evy'd been so certain it was over - that the journal Ardeth had recovered, and so her Ardeth would recover. It was all over! But it wasn't. Spent by the surge of emotion and seeking comfort, Evy snuggled into her husband and let herself drift off to sleep.

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Ardeth dug his fingers into his palms in an attempt to ride out a particularly bad stretch of turbulence. He'd have groaned if the pain from the first bounce hadn't robbed him of breath. Struggling for short, desperate gasps of air, the Medjai settled for biting his lip, until the bouncing mercifully stopped, and he could get enough of a breath make the sound. He then repeated it as a wave of dizziness washed over him. His knuckles turned white as he tightened his fists in an attempt to fight off the nausea that followed. It slowly rose up his throat despite his efforts, and he realized it was a losing the battle.

"You must try to relax; it will ease if you do."

Ardeth barely heard Najat's whisper as a wondrously cool cloth chased away the nausea, and the unbearable flush of heat that had risen with it. Tension seeped away from his body as the gentle caress worked its way down his neck and to the upper part of his chest. Lulled almost back to sleep, the Medjai nearly groaned as the cloth suddenly pulled away. He forced his reluctant eyelids open, but Najat wasn't there, and he wondered if it had been a dream. To be certain, he turned his head slightly to look for her, but let it drop back against the seat as the dizziness came swirling back. Less severe than before, it was still enough to make the Medjai reluctant to move again, but his neck was twisted awkwardly, making it necessary to shift, at least a little. Ardeth took a deep breath and bit his lip as he tried not to move his head while he very carefully shifted his shoulders nearer into alignment with his neck. Unintentionally angling himself toward Alex, he watched the child sleeping soundly, amazed that the turbulence hadn't woken him.

"He guarded you very valiantly before sleep claimed him."

Engulfed within a thickening haze, it seemed to Ardeth that Najat appeared out of nowhere, and he flinched. She frowned as the movement provoked a soft hiss.

"My apologies..."

Ardeth weakly waved away her concern, although he didn't quite manage to lift his hand out of his lap.

"May I place this beneath your robe?" Najat inquired, nonchalantly.

Ardeth noticed the ice pack in her hand and nodded, slightly. He had to bite his lip to keep from hissing as it pressed against his wound, but he dutifully draped a weak hand across it to keep it in place, more or less. Wearily closing his eyes, Ardeth noticed a familiar scent wafting within reach of his senses. The aroma brought a slight smile to the Medjai's lips, and he opened his to see Najat holding a cup. His smile broadened. He'd forgotten the Abadi had with them the means to lessen his misery.

Beneath her burqa, Najat frowned at the fog she saw in his eyes, worrying that the Medjai was fading too quickly. She knew there was little more she could do than ease his pain. The infection had grown too strong for the medicines she had brought with her, making it Ardeth's battle to fight alone. Still, Najat hoped she could at least provide him with an easier sleep - as much as possible seated in the bumpy, uncomfortable craft. Kneeling, she didn't waste time formally asking his permission before bringing the mixture of herbs to his lips. His eyes were already drooping closed as she pulled the cup away.

"Sleep well, my friend," Najat whispered, silently backing away.

Already feeling the effect of the medicine spreading throughout his miserable body, Ardeth smiled at the slip in her formal demeanor and sleepily replied.

"Thank...you...Na...jat."

Najat smiled. She was uncertain what he was thanking her for, but it didn't really matter. Creeping away, she softly prayed the Medjai would have the strength to accomplish his task.

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Evy jolted awake as the plane hit a bad stretch of turbulence. Glancing at her husband, she saw him stir, then settle back to sleep with an ease that made her shake her head, disbelievingly. Sighing, Evy stretched her cramped muscles, sending the journal tumbling from her lap onto the floor. It sparked a flood of emotion that left her trembling as she remembered what she'd read. It made her hesitate briefly, before reaching down to pick up the book. Closing her eyes for a moment, Evy whispered to herself that she might as well read more; it couldn't possible get any worse. After all, even if the journal Ardeth died, he was in such misery that it would almost be a blessing. Flicking the silly thought away with a quick shake of her head, Evy opened her eyes and chuckled at herself. The journal Ardeth couldn't die...because her Ardeth didn't die.

"Keep your wits about you, Evelyn. This is no time to let your imagination get the better of you," she softly chided herself. Shaking her head disapprovingly, Evy flipped open the journal. It surprised her a little to see the next entry dated nearly two weeks after the last one.

"Thanks be to Allah, my nephew begins to improve. The past few days, Ardeth has woken for several hours at a time. There is still no light in his eyes, but he responds now to our voices, although he still does not speak. Whether it is because he lacks the ability or the will, I do not know. He is still too weak to do more than lie in his bed. Perhaps we will hear his voice again after more of his strength has returned. It is my fear, however, that it is his will that is lacking. My brother still will not see his son, and I am certain now that Ardeth is aware of his father's absence. I see despair in his face each time his bed is approached and it is not Dabir that speaks, but he puts on a brave face for Badi'a and Fathi.

Their father's absence has not diminished Badi'a and Fathi's devotion to their brother. Of this, I am certain. Many times each day they exercise his arms and legs for him, in the hope it will help them grow stronger. Ardeth seems to find some pleasure is this exercise, but perhaps it is only a mask he wears for them. I have noticed my nephew appears very downcast once they are finished and he believes they have left his side. Perhaps, his expression of pleasure is genuine, but it is the company of his brother and sister, and not the activity that pleases him. These past two days, I have noticed he increasingly responds to their presence. It gives my heart hope that he might yet recover."

The page ended, and Evy nearly screamed from the anticipation as she eagerly flipped to the next. Her eyes skimmed over the date without really registering it. It didn't really matter any more. She only cared how the story played out, not how long it took to do it. Oblivious to anything else, Evy continued.

"My heart grows lighter each day as Ardeth continues to improve. He remains confined to his bed and still does not appear to see, nor does he speak, but each day more of my nephew's will returns. I know this because Ardeth makes it known to us. He answers yes or no with his head when he is being tended to, and often make faces that express astonishingly well what he cannot speak. It do not believe that Badi'a draws as much pleasure from this as Fathi and I. It seems a great irritation to my niece that he shakes his head 'no' much more than he nods 'yes' and gives her quite unmistakable looks of displeasure when she does not heed. Badi'a chides him often for being difficult, and this is when I can most believe my nephew will once again be as he was - for when Badi'a curses him, it always brings a smirk to his lips. It is with this simple expression that I am no longer able to doubt my nephew returns to us, although it is with painful slowness."

Evy paused, trying to imagine Ardeth communicating only with expressions. The attempt made her chuckle softly. It was difficult to imagine the stoic Medjai anyway other than just that - stoic. Continuing to read, Evy pondered that she would have enjoyed meeting the journal Ardeth. He seemed like quite the amazing individual.

"Although I, myself, was never afflicted, I was struck today by how much the fever has altered me. It was a little thing that brought about this realization. Today, Ardeth sat up. It doesn't not seem like I great thing as I write it here. Indeed, Badi'a often sits him up when he is awake. But today, Ardeth sat himself up and would not allow Badi'a to lay him back down for nearly the entire day. Although his stubbornness greatly vexed his sister, the momentous event brought enormous joy to both myself and Fathi. It seems odd that such a small thing could bring so much happiness. I do not believe I would always have appreciated so little a sign of progress, but the fever has opened my eyes to the enormity of even small gains.

It pains me that the joy of the day was marred not only by Dabir's continued neglect, but increasingly Fathi's. Ardeth still does not see, a condition I fear we must learn to accept."

Caught unprepared, Evy had to paused. The possibility that the journal Ardeth wouldn't get his sight back had never occurred to her. Closing her eyes, she remembered her Ardeth - in their parlor not so long ago, his scimitar flying as he fought her attackers. Evy found it impossible to picture her Ardeth blind. Shaking away the image, she opened her eyes and began the paragraph again.

"It pains me that the joy of the day was marred not only by Dabir's continued neglect, but increasingly Fathi's. Ardeth still does not see, a condition I fear we must learn to accept. Despite this, his seeming awareness of all around him often astonishes me. As does his ever increasing ability to express this awareness without words. He has not spoken, yet, but I clearly see a difference in him as Fathi's visits grow less frequent. His brother's playful teasing greatly lifted Ardeth's spirits. But more than this, I believe it is the reason for his brother's absence that discourages Ardeth. None of us have spoken of it, and yet the distress is so clearly visible each time Fathi departs that I have little doubt Ardeth knows his younger brother has taken on the duties of the eldest son. My nephew shows no resentment towards Fathi. In fact, Ardeth is so adept at hiding his distress, I do not believe Fathi sees the change in him. However, Badi'a sees it, as do I. I pray this discouragement will not slow his recovery, but I fear it already does, for I sense growing resignation within him."

Evy shook her head, softly cursing Dabir. His treatment of the journal Ardeth seemed cruel to her. Too angry to read on, Evy sat the journal in her lap and curled up against her husband for another nap.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Alex jerked awake. Disoriented, his gaze roamed until it landed on Najat, kneeling in front of Ardeth's seat. Settling back, he watched her bathe the sweat from the sleeping Medjai and noticed, glumly, that Ardeth looked even worse. He was still pale, but beneath it, his skin seemed to glow with an increasing flush - making the Medjai look almost unnatural. The thought made Alex shudder.

"Ah, Alex," Najat greeted, softly, the child's shiver drawing her attention briefly away from Ardeth. "It is good you are awake. I believe Johari is greatly in need of rescue."

Alex tossed her a skeptical glance. The imposing Abadi warrior didn't seem the sort to ever need rescuing, especially by an eight year old. Amused by his bewilderment, Najat smiled and continued.

"You're uncle awoke some time ago and decided to pass the time with cards. With you asleep, he had little choice but to play with Johari. This is not a common pastime among the Abadi; I fear your uncle grows eager for a more skilled partner."

Alex twisted around and glanced toward Jonathan. Grinning, the child watched his obviously frustrated uncle attempting to explain some rule or another to an obviously bewildered Johari. Chuckling as he hopped from his seat, Alex wandered back to where the two men sat.

Najat smiled as she watched Alex go. She knew Johari would appreciate the opportunity to escape the Englishmen. But more importantly, Jonathan would be able to distract his nephew from Ardeth's worsening condition.

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