Thanks to...mystery, o'connell's_mummy_girl, ruse, redlady, mija, sare, allibabab, nora, asilin, craklyn, solaris, marxbros, dylan (what a great explanation of the appeal of romantic drama...loved that!:), seletha, star (if you had actually killed satine, you would have been in trouble;), natters, myth (everyone here has to be a little weird;), katie, and dancinevy...

This chapter is actually brand spanking new, it was only recently added. Originally (like, when I was planning six months ago) this went a completely different way, and then I actually wrote it and the plot-point went down with very little fuss, but recently, being the generous writer that I am, I decided to drag the angst on for just a bit more, just for you lucky readers! :) Enjoy.....

Chapter 28

Paid in Full

Evelyn opened her eyes, taking a moment to adjust to the sudden brightness of the lamps. She slowly dragged her aching body up into a sitting position from where she'd fallen on the floor of the library. The library. Her library. Their apartment. Cairo. Rick.

She stood, slowly, taking care not to fall over in the process, and took in her surroundings. As she looked at each object, each chair, each book, they slowly filtered back into her memory, one by one, until the deluge was almost too much to bear. She knew this library like the back of her hand. And yet she felt as though she'd been away for so long. With the library there flowed another set of memories right alongside, teasing, tormenting...

"This is not goodbye. Have you lost your faith in fate?"...

"No!" Evelyn cried, at once not sure why she had done so. The room seemed to roll beneath her feet as she placed one in front of the other. A few steps away sat Ardeth, leaned up against the wall, apparently out like a light. Evelyn checked to make sure he was breathing, then tried shaking him, but he remained in his coma despite her efforts to wake him. "Ardeth?" she whispered. "I need you to tell me what's going on. Please, what's going on?"

A reply was not forthcoming from her friend, and so Evelyn stood again and made for the door. Trying to steady the panicky beating of her heart, Evelyn stumbled along the darkened hallway until she'd reached the doorway to her bedroom. It was halfway open already, and she pushed the door forward to reveal the her husband unconscious in a chair across the room. The sight of him made her head spin, and she had to grab the doorframe to keep from completely losing her grip on her surroundings. He was sleeping, probably still under the spell, probably still living and breathing in two separate worlds, alive.

He came to a decision, and she saw it in his eyes...

Evelyn turned quickly and raced back down the hallway. She barely noticed Jonathan as she passed him, out cold and collapsed in the foyer. Filled only with thoughts of escape, she flung open the front door and cast herself out into the night and the blissful uncertainty of the storm.

Achsu-rai wondered how long it would take for him to die this way. If he simply didn't breathe, would his body step in and force his lungs to work, or could he sit here, silent, unmoving, until death overtook him? He forced a shuddering gulp of air into his lungs, shooting pain throughout his chest and tightening his throat. His entire body felt as though it could crumble into nothingness at any moment, his head heavy, his joints so weak that he could not raise them. It was as though he had died, but his mind remained active, torturing him, punishing him. Had their lives been so worthless, after all, to deserve such a wretched end? Had his mistakes been so grave that the only payment the underworld would accept was the death of his lover?

Her...death. He couldn't comprehend the word. It seemed an imaginary state. As sure as he sat next to a corpse, in the next moment he was sure she would open her eyes, breathe again, live. It would have been a peaceful scene if not for the blood, staining her clothing, the bed, his hands, crimson and absolute.

Sleeping, and now departed, she had always looked so innocent, more so than she ever had when she was awake. He had known two people living in the same body. One, a princess, submissive and dutiful, hiding a second, true persona that had only appeared when she was sure no one else was watching. In death, maybe she could finally be free of the constraints of the mortal world. Maybe the underworld could see what only Achsu-rai had been witness to, a passionate, courageous human being with her own life to live. She had to be living, somewhere, somehow, even a little bit. He had to believe that, or their world was pointless. Or their love had meant nothing. She had meant nothing. It couldn't be true.

A noise at the entrance alerted him to the presence of another, but Achsu-rai's frozen limbs could not bring themselves to care. His ears, still attuned, caught the faint sound of footsteps scuffling slowly across the dirt. A hand griped his shoulder, but Achsu-rai did not react. It was not a threatening hand. So they had not come to drag him off and kill him. He couldn't decide if he was disappointed or not.

"She was dying, wasn't she?" the man said, and Achsu-rai looked up to see Tahir hovering next to him.

"She's dead," the Medjai replied, choosing not to give Tahir the luxury of an explanation.

"She wouldn't tell me what was wrong."

"And I suppose she told you everything."

Tahir paused. "She told no one everything." His hand went automatically into his pocket, fingered the treasure there. Should he give it to this man? This monster, who had clearly had a bigger hand the princess' death than he would like to admit. Tahir told himself he could have stopped it, he could have saved her, but as soon as he'd stepped into the dreamlike atmosphere of the tent, he'd known that this man who had been her end had also been her destiny. If Achsu-rai couldn't have saved her from it, no one could have. Tahir removed his hand from his pocket, leaving the ring hidden in its depths. "Tell me it's not your fault and I'll believe you."

"Why shouldn't all the blame lie at my feet? Someone has to pay for what's happened here."

"They're going to come, you know. Ramses is going to figure out where she went and they'll come for you."

Achsu-rai stood. "Not if I go to them first." With one swift motion he had reclaimed the blade from the princess' chest, placing it in its scabbard and brushing past Tahir. "Oh," he said, pausing at the entrance to the tent. "Do something for me, would you?"

Tahir should have been afraid of this Medjai, but somehow he knew that Achsu-rai was not a killer. He loved her, and that was all Tahir needed to know the truth. "Why not?"

Achsu-rai removed a golden object from his cache of weapons. He tossed it at Tahir, who caught it with awkward hands, causing it to fall to the ground. As he bent down, he noticed the little circle on top of the scepter-like object had broken in the fall, but Achsu-rai seemed not to notice. "What is this?" Tahir asked.

"My father told me to leave it with someone I trust. Can I trust you, Tahir?"

Somehow, as he held the scepter, Tahir sensed a frightening power pulsing beneath its shining, innocuous surface. "Yes," he answered, his gaze still caught by the scepter. "You can trust me."

When Tahir looked up, the Medjai was gone.

It was clear that the man was a Medjai, for he wore the black, forbidding ceremonial mask of the god Anubis. What was unusual was that he was wearing it in the middle of the day, striding into the ballroom as though he had every right to be there. The whispers started as he walked through the crowds, parting them in a clear-cut line, slowly making his way to the head of the room. In his hand he held an ax, sharp and shining in the bright torch lights of the court.

Though no one had the remotest guess to his identity, as Hadamer spotted him coming, his stomach sank to his feet. "What do you want?" he asked, before even Ramses could speak.

"Hadamer," snapped the pharaoh. "Stand down, this is not your concern until I tell you it is." He gestured toward the nearby Medjai in case the man became violent, but they recognized the man in the mask and did not move to protect the pharaoh. "Now," said Ramses, "what business do you have here?"

The man's hand rose slowly, pointing with the sinister ax toward Hadamer. "To the death," he said, his words muffled but ringing clear as a bell in Hadamer's ears.

Giving him no chance to acknowledge the summons, the masked man charged Hadamer, who only barely managed to swipe a weapon from a close by Medjai to defend himself. The two men fought their way across the room in no time at all, while the crowd stood stock still, not sure what to make of the sudden spectacle.

Hadamer dove nearly into the wall to avoid a blow, then rolled out of the way as the ax clanged on the floor. "Who are you?" he screamed, nearly out of breath but with enough air left to voice his frustration. "What is this madness?"

The man in the mask did not reply, he only came after Hadamer again as he stood, giving him barely enough time to recover between each attack. The masked man swung, Hadamer parried; the masked man charged, and once more Hadamer blocked the blow. Hadamer was clearly at a disadvantage, though this was not due to a lack of fighting skill. But the masked man knew what he was fighting for. He had a purpose in this, and whether Hadamer liked it or not, it's end would be carried out to the death.

Somehow Hadamer managed to duck another of the masked man's strikes. "Who are you?" he tried again, carefully staying just out of range of his wrath. "It was you, wasn't it? You wrote that letter to the princess."

Still the man did not reply, but Hadamer pressed onward with his accusations. "You think killing me will earn you the right to have her? You think as soon as I'm out of the way, they won't put you to death anyway?"

Finally the man paused, hand going to his mask. He lifted it from his head and tossed it aside, the revelation of his identity drawing gasps from the crowd. Achsu-rai's eyes shone with such hatred that Hadamer involuntarily took another step back. His face was set into a different mask now, this one utterly human, though hard and determined. And yet, Hadamer detected something else within the Medjai's demeanor, a hint of emotion hiding deep within his eyes...

Pain. Almost as though he were grieving.

"No," said Achsu-rai, finally. "I don't plan on living without her."

With this his other hand went to his belt, drawing a blood-stained knife and slashing at his opponent with it, the ax quickly following. While Hadamer ducked from the path of the larger weapon, the smaller knife found his face, dragging a distinct, burning line of pain from right eyebrow to chin. Hadamer knew immediately that the knife had caught his eye, but he did not allow the stinging pain or the sudden lack of vision in one eye to deter him.

He attacked this time; the Medjai easily deflected it, but was not quite prepared for the second strike of Hadamer's assault. Through the blade Hadamer could feel the sickening slice of metal through his opponent's skin. Someone in the crowd screamed, and then the room was deathly silent as the two men contemplated the damage.

Achsu-rai was aware that he had been hit, but he didn't feel anything. He looked down and saw blood. His blood, red, shining against the brown that already flecked his skin.

Her blood.

Just as Hadamer began to think that maybe he'd delivered the final blow, his Medjai opponent straightened and swung the ax again. It came within inches of the man's head, but the near deadly accuracy proved to be Achsu-rai's downfall. Hadamer scrambled away...

...and Ramses' sword came at the Medjai over the stroke of the falling ax.

Achsu-rai's ax slipped uselessly out of his hands and clattered across the floor toward the anxious spectators, causing most of them to scatter. It hurt this time. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, with each breath more aware of it's painful beating, pushing blood through his veins and out. Blood pulsed underneath his fingers as he covered the wound more out of reflex than any hope that the bleeding would ever stop. Then his hands fell away; his limbs suddenly too weak to support themselves, and as his knees buckled he wondered vaguely why the room seemed to spin at such an odd angle.

"Guards!" yelled Ramses, stumbling away. "Seize the traitor!"

But they did not move a muscle toward their leader, fallen, broken, dying. He was a weak picture at that moment, kneeling on the floor, bloody, defeated, but he was still their leader, and the Medjai would recognize that loyalty before anything else. Only one stepped out of the crowd and made his way to Achsu-rai. Rather than subduing him, however, he merely sunk to the ground beside his brother and held him in his arms.

It took a moment for Achsu-rai to focus his hazy eyes on his brother's face. "She's dead, Khalil. She's dead."

"I know." Khalil was dimly aware of blood, of injury, but the scene seemed so surreal that his mind would not wrap around the truth of his brother's last breaths. "I...Tahir told me."

Achsu-rai squeezed his eyes shut, as if to block out the sight of harsh reality. "I shouldn't have done it."

Khalil felt an anger rising in him at his brother's actions. Yes, he should have known how this confrontation with Hadamer would end. Maybe he had. "Forgive me, brother, but attacking Hadamer was indeed very stupid."

"No." Achsu-rai shook his head, but the movement pained him. "She should still be alive. I shouldn't have done it."

Tears choked Khalil's airway and blurred his vision. Khalil had done more than hear it from Tahir. He had seen the body; he knew what his brother had done. "Then why did you?"

Achsu-rai shook his head again, just slightly, as though it was all the strength he had left. "She asked." His eyes wandered to the ceiling, contemplating what eternities lay beyond it. Would he see her in heaven? Hell? Where did such people go, dark, undeserving; in love with a gentler, beautiful soul. Was love enough? Would it ever be enough for a man like him?...

Nefertiri...

Khalil watched as his brother's eyes closed, felt his breath stop. He motioned to the others and three of them lifted their leader's body from the ground, carried it out through the dazed crowd and past the pharaoh and his general without a word. No one made a move to stop them.

Across three millennia, a second soul awakened from a deep sleep.

~*~*~*~

Two more. RSVP if you would, it makes me happy:):):) ~Buff