THE KEY

1931

Hazz Haka was a respected member of the clan, an elder if you will, even though most knew him to be somewhat of a soothsayer. Hazz had a special role amongst his people. He kept track of all the ancient documents and scrolls that ruled and led the way for various journeys. He also held legal documents and those of the mystical variety as well. Hazz was the man the clan elders deferred to when certain documents required translation, especially those that predicted prophecies destined to come to pass. As of late, Hazz hadn't had to do much. Basically, he puttered about, checking and rechecking his documents and records. However, he felt that something about his world was out of balance. He had no idea that his feelings mirrored those of a restless Medjai warrior. As the day grew hotter, Hazz grew more impatient and weary. He did not know when these feelings would leave him, but he thought it might take a very long time. Often, he had visions that wouldn't come to pass for months or years at a time. By the time they did occur, he had entirely forgotten that he had seen it already. Hazz wasn't aging well. He often found himself growing more and more feeble and forgetful. Perhaps it was time to hand down his life's work to an apprentice. Yet, he didn't want to do that. He wanted to hold onto his status and to the mystic. Once he turned it over, he would no longer be consulted. He grunted incoherently [pah] as he moved around, touching scrolls, and knocking things over with his shaking hands. He turned when he heard the rapid clocking of feet moving toward him. He hadn't had visitors in a few days. Even his apprentice, Mukhtar, had made himself more than scarce. He often wondered if the clan had decided, once and for all, that he was losing his mind. Ah, so Mukhtar has decided to come back, he thought bitterly as the young boy came rushing his way.

"M'allim, m'allim," the boy cried. ["Master, master."] "You will not believe what I have found. You must see this. You must."

Hazz stepped back from the breathless young boy and glanced at what he held in his hands. It looked like an old case of some sort. It was decorated with Egyptian hieroglyphics; they literally covered it. His apprentice presented the case to him, and for a moment, Hazz was afraid to touch it. Evil emanated from the case as if it were noxious steam. The room was suddenly filled with it. He had the greatest urge to take the case and throw it into the fire. He wanted nothing to do with it. "What is this that you have brought to me, Mukhtar," he asked when he could finally speak.

Carefully, cautiously, as if he were opening a sacred book, he popped open the bizarre looking case and revealed what it had hidden inside. Hazz gasped audibly as his eyes identified a small scroll rolled neatly and tucked perfectly in the middle of the case. This document was ancient. The paper was similar to parchment [but wasn't parchment] and the edges were brown with age. The inside of the case smelled musty and rank, as if it hadn't been opened in centuries. He was afraid to touch it, fearing that it might fall apart at the slightest breath. However, as he gazed down upon it, he thought that whatever mystic had created it would ensure it would hold together long enough to send some wary traveler on his journey. He reached out and placed one finger onto the document. If there were a chance it would fall apart, at least the damage would be slight. As he had known [and feared], the paper held together. It felt very fragile, though. His heart began to race as he encircled the document with his hand. He saw that it was no longer than five inches and bound with some type of twine. The moment he touched the twine, it crumbled to so much fine dust. It was unnerving how the twine didn't last a minute, but the scroll held together. You do not want to look at that. Do you? He didn't, but he did. The ancient document called to him and his love for his work pressed him forward. He unrolled the scroll and noted that it was written in Arabic. However, the language seemed slightly more primitive than the Arabic he had spoken since he could talk. They needed a translator.

"Find Abd er Rashid," Hazz commanded. "Only he could read this. Bring him to me. Tell no one."

It took Mukhtar no longer than twenty minutes to find Rashid and bring him back to Hazz. The three men sat together and gazed at the scroll before attempting to translate it. Rashid was the clan's expert of the ancient times. He knew everything about the culture, lifestyle, and language of ancient Egypt. He had spent as many hours studying as Hazz did collecting and archiving. For what seemed like three lifetimes, Rashid stared down at the document, tracing each symbol with his finger. Every now and then, he would sigh and shake his head. It wasn't a good sign and Hazz began to worry even more than before. Something about this scroll was not right. He had felt it the instant he laid eyes on it, and was convinced the moment Rashid began to read it. Rashid had brought his own parchment paper to jot down the sentences as he translated them. He held this treasure protectively, refusing to allow either Hazz or Mukhtar to see it. He didn't want them to know what it said until he finished. However, he didn't hide his discord. The clan was in trouble. The world was in trouble.

* * *

Although a leader of a great tribe, Ardeth had moved away from his men. As the days passed and the visions grew in intensity, he had become morose, almost sullen. He didn't understand what was happening to him and wasn't sure he wanted to. As he rode ahead of the tribe, he felt the heavy comfort of the amulet periodically thumping against his chest as if it were a separate heart beat. He supposed he was naïve. He thought it might chase away the images that haunted him day and night. However, it didn't. Absently, he fingered the heavy silver amulet fashioned in the form of Isis. Her wings were spread widely and had joined to form a perfect circle. In the space left by the joined wings was a tiger's eye quartz. Despite the heat of the day, it never grew hot to the touch. It maintained an eerie coolness that he couldn't explain. As darkness fell and the air chilled, the amulet warmed. He believed it was Sharîk touching it, keeping it comfortable for him. The amulet had belonged to her, but he wasn't sure where she had gotten it. She didn't have time to explain. As she had fallen onto the burning sand, dying, Ardeth had closed the distance quickly, getting to her several moments before Qâtil. At the time of her death, she had been wearing the amulet. He remembered that she had taken her last bit of strength to rip it from her throat. Urgently, she shoved it toward Ardeth, imploring him to take it. He didn't want it. In fact, he insisted that she keep it. She would need its protection as she passed on to the afterlife awaiting her. No, she had begged. You do not understand. Take this. You will one day need it. He couldn't deny her dying words. He loved her far too much. He had taken the amulet and hid it within his robe. Later, he would wonder why he had hidden it away as if he had stolen it. He didn't want Qâtil to know she had given it to him. He never knew why he felt such a way. He had carried it with him every day for two years, never quite having the heart to look at it. It was the only item on her person that hadn't been soaked in her blood. He told himself he was keeping it for Sharîk's child, that he would give it to her son. Yet, he didn't get that chance. His friend sent the boy to America as if he had never wanted him at all. Eventually, he carefully dug the amulet out of its hiding place, restrung it with a new cord, and tied it securely around his neck. It was doing nothing for the visions, but it seemed to give him enough energy to lead his men.

Ardeth wasn't aware of it, but they were worried about him. Hardly any of his men wanted to approach him about his recent behavior changes. When angered, Ardeth was fierce and unstoppable. No one wanted to be his enemy. None of them wanted to die young. However, his second in command had mentioned it tentatively. Hashim respected his leader, as did the rest of the tribe. What was Ardeth's issue became one of the whole group. They often moved as one entity, this was no exception. Regardless of that, Ardeth wasn't forthcoming. He didn't want to mention the visions to Hashim or any of the others for that matter. How could he go into intimate detail about the content of his visions? The images that tormented him weren't any he could flat out discuss. He just couldn't. If he said anything, he thought it would be a betrayal to this woman he had never met. It was incomprehensible, unexplainable, and mad. He provided no information, but didn't become angered at Hashim's prying. It was what he would have done. The tribe was three days ride away from the clan. Perhaps he would seek out Hazz Haka once he returned to the fold. He was the only man who might have the answers he sought.

* * *

Rashid stared down at his parchment translation of the scroll. He read it three or four times to ensure that he had done a proper job. He didn't want to send his people into an unnecessary panic. However, it was bound to happen. His translation was perfect. He could not lie to himself any longer. He glanced up at Hazz and his apprentice. "This scroll foretells of an ancient curse that Set bestowed upon the old and the new world. It will come to pass within this year. It is written that someone from the future will unlock the gateway to the underworld, releasing Set's minions, destroying the world as we know it to be now, as we will know it then. Summoning the powers of Osiris to send a man to the future can stop the curse. It can't be any man. It must be the man who wears an amulet beset with tiger's eye quartz. It will bare the symbol of Isis. The tiger's eye must be inserted into a slot within a great pyramid to prevent the portal from opening. Only the man with this amulet can be sent. No one else may do this or the curse will immediately come to pass. He has a very limited amount of time in which to stop it."

"Who would have such an amulet," Mukhtar asked. "I have never seen a symbol such as this scroll describes."

Hazz was staring off into space, suddenly realizing that his premonition had come true. The scroll was evil, just as he thought. In the cobwebs of his aging brain, he tried to recall where he had seen such an amulet. It simply wasn't the power of suggestion. Who is it? Who is this man? Where is the amulet? He knew, he could almost reach out and touch the image. He had seen the amulet encircling the neck of a warrior. It came to him suddenly. Hazz looked up at the two men. "I know this man. I have seen the amulet. It is Ardeth Bay. We must find him immediately."

* * *

Hazz summoned the elders to pass along the information regarding the curse of Set. The Medjai tribe was expected back into the fold within hours and it was clear that Ardeth Bay would have to be brought to them. They had little time to wait, and even less to convince him that this threat was indeed real.

Ardeth barely had time to eat and bathe before a boy no more than fourteen came to him. He recognized the boy as Hazz's apprentice. In a startled sort of horror, the boy gazed curiously at the amulet circling Ardeth's neck. Hazz had been correct. This was the man who would save the world as foretold in the scroll. "Excuse me, Chieftain," Mukhtar said with a slight, respectful nod. "Master Haka has asked me to bring you to his quarters. The elders need you."

The amulet lying sedately against his chest began to warm suddenly. Ardeth was afraid to look it. He thought it might be glowing. He didn't like the urgency in the boy's voice. Without questioning him, he followed behind him. He thought it quite ironic that he had wanted to seek Hazz's advice, and before he could, the elder had sent for him. He felt nervous and uneasy. Again, the sense of foreboding doom began to enter him and nothing could chase it away. Mukhtar led Ardeth into Hazz's quarters where he was faced with the clan's stoic group of elders. He nodded respectively toward the men and waited expectantly. With a pang, he noticed that all of them were staring at his amulet.

The other elders deferred to Hazz. He and his apprentice had discovered the scroll, so they left it up to him to make the request of the Medjai chief. "Ardeth, I am very glad you came," Hazz began. He wanted to ask the warrior to sit with them, but he would refuse and stay a respectful distance away. "Mukhtar found an ancient scroll that foretells a Setian curse. It was written that a man bearing the amulet you wear must be sent to the future to lock the gateway, preventing Set's minions from entering the portal to destroy our present and future. There is a person in the future who has some control over the gateway. You are the only man who bears the symbol and we are asking that you travel in time to stop this curse from coming to pass."

Ardeth drew in an inward sigh. The creature had been his first test and now Set was his next. He fought to keep his hand from seizing the amulet and ripping it off his throat. It had grown very warm in the short time he had stood before Hazz and the clan elders. There were many questions he longed to ask, but for the moment, he didn't have the energy to ask them. However, the visions weighed heavily on his mind and he would tell them. Perhaps they were related to the curse. "If I may," he began. He was met by seven nods of the head. "I must know if what has been happening to me is somehow related to this curse. I ask for help, Elder Haka. For many weeks, I have had visions of the future and of a woman. I have seen this woman assisting me, and I believe her to be involved in some way." He refused to go into any details regarding the many, many times he saw himself lying with this woman in her bed. "I respect you greatly, Elder Haka, but I know you are a mystic, and I need your guidance. Do you think this woman is real? Is she someone I must seek?"

Hazz shook his head. "Your visions may be relevant, Ardeth, but I do not think this woman has anything to do with the curse. There was no mention of a woman. You are not to seek out any person. You are to take your amulet to a great pyramid and insert the key into a slot that will close the gateway and bring you back to our time. We will have to perform a prayer ritual, summoning the powers of Osiris and Isis to send you on your journey. We have a short amount of time to find this gateway and shut it down forever. If we do not, the curse will be fulfilled by year's end. Set will come to power and rule for all eternity."

This time, Ardeth sighed aloud. He had been reassured his disturbing visions were not part of the curse. With the strain of those thoughts lifted from his mind, he felt at peace. He fixed a determined gaze on the elders and nodded respectively once again. "I will go."

"Very well," Hazz said. "The ritual will be performed tomorrow night. You must fast from now until then."

Without another word, Ardeth turned away and left the elders. He went back to his own quarters, but couldn't immediately find sleep. He fingered the amulet. It was still quite warm to the touch. He began to wonder if Sharîk had known the amulet was significant to his people. Why else would she insist he take it? Perhaps she had known of this curse, but how? She wasn't a mystic. No one in her family had any ties to Hazz Haka. He was the only seer known to the clan. He thought of Qâtil. When he had sent his son to America, he had also disappeared. His whereabouts were never discovered. The elders assumed he had followed his son to the states, but Ardeth wasn't sure. He never loved his son. In fact, he ignored the boy as if another man had fathered him. Qâtil was the answer, but he couldn't find him to ask the questions.

Earlier, his mind had been eased with regard to the woman. She was no more than a representation of Sharîk, a substitute. Finally relieved after many weeks, his eyelids grew heavy. Tonight, he would sleep through, and the thought comforted him greatly. However, he was wrong.

He awakened within his dream and felt a body lying beside him. She slept soundly, her body molded against his. There was only flesh where space should have been. Her legs were entwined with his, as were her arms and fingers. Her nose was very close to his and he could feel her breath puffing out, tickling him.

"You must stop coming to me like this," he said.

Her eyes opened at his plea. "I can't. I'm part of you now," she whispered.

"No. You are my past and I cannot relive it."

"Look at me, Ardeth," she said. "Look at me. I'm your future."

Although he was denying her, he didn't attempt to break their embrace. He couldn't. "No. You are Sharîk and you have come to me in the form of another woman. You do not exist."

"You can touch me, can't you," she asked stubbornly. "You can kiss me, make love to me, and feel love for me. Can you do that with someone who doesn't exist?"

He found the strength to move away. He drew back but didn't bother completely leaving her. She propped up on her elbows and gazed up at him. "You have come to haunt and thwart me, nothing else. I cast you out, Sharîk. I cast you out of my heart, mind, and body."

She refused to listen. She sat up and revealed her gloriously nude body. "You can't cast out what was meant to be."

She reached for him and despite his effort at casting her away, he responded. Ardeth wrapped his arms around her and held on tightly, burying his face into her hair. Before long, he was kissing her, lowering her back down. He was inside her, giving her what she needed, what he wanted. He loved her as she loved him.

"No," Ardeth gasped as he came awake suddenly. He had slept no more than two hours. The visions had never left him. Despite what Hazz said, this woman existed, she was as real as he. She was in the future and he knew he needed her. He didn't know what role she was to play, but she was there, waiting for him.

* * *

Present Day

The man Leven knew as Caldo was actually a servant of Set who had lived for thousands of years as a punishment for an egregious misdeed. His real name was Sharr. He was sent to the future in order to retrieve the key. His lord and master hadn't given him much direction. When Sharr summoned Set, he was guided to search for a fallen woman with hair the color of sand and eyes the color of gold. She would hold the key to the gateway. He had been told that he should look for a tiger's eye quartz. Once he saw the gem, he would know that he had found the key. Set had sent him in the image of a person this woman would know. She would trust him and let him take the tiger's eye. He was not to interact with this woman beyond obtaining his prize. Of course, he could not resist the sins of the flesh. It was what had sentenced him to an eternity of treading the earth. He enjoyed toying with the woman, sampling her, and he had gotten what he wanted. He gazed down at the dagger bejeweled with the red/black swirls common to the gemstone. He would pray to his dark god for guidance. Now that he had the key, he needed to know what to do with it.