I'm hoping for the rest of this fic to go really really fast. Two more chapters ;) Thanks to those who are still with us! :)

11: She Was a Lovely Girl

Rain streamed down off the brightly-covered overhang as Sheila picked up the microphone and took a deep breath, trying to call up some sympathy for her next story. As soon as they'd heard over the radio, they'd pulled the news van over and found a suitable place to film a live bit. Her cameraman signaled, and she turned dark-rimmed eyes on the camera. "Tragedy," rang the clear voice of Sheila Montague, "has once again struck our fair city. So soon after losing a beloved son, a daughter, too, is taken from us. She was only twenty-one...."

Twenty-four hours earlier, Evelyn had no idea of the media firestorm to come. Having never really done much of anything wrong in her entire life, she was unsure of how her father would react. She'd broken just about every rule in the book--although a lot of them, such as her marriage, nobody knew about....yet.

As it turned out, he reacted in a rather unreasonable, sadistic way, which was perfectly fitting considering it was her father they were talking about. "You mean to tell me," he hissed, "that they found you in the same hotel as the very man who killed your beloved cousin? Is there some connection I'm not getting here, Evelyn, or would you like to spell it out for me?"

"There's no connection, daddy. I told you already, some friends from college were staying there. I decided to stay the night at the Luhrmann; I'm just so used to living on my own that I didn't think to tell anyone--"

"And the basement? Hmm? What were you doing in the basement?"

Evelyn was suddenly reminded of a forgotten memory. She'd been eight, and she knocked over an entire pyramid of champagne glasses in front of hundreds of guests. Her father had meted out according punishment--she was not to receive supper that evening--but one bout of hysterical tears from little Princess Evy and he relented. Perhaps the same trick would do here. "Daddy," she whined, tears welling up, "I don't understand why you're so upset. I just happened to be at the hotel. Nothing happened with Rick, I--"

"I didn't imply that anything happened with 'Rick,'" said Seti. "That was all your inference, daughter. Is there something you'd like to tell me?"

Evelyn could feel her face reddening despite her best efforts, though she kept her mouth shut this time.

"Well," her father continued, "in light of recent events, I think it prudent we head off public relations at the pass. Nothing for the people to get all worked up over. I have decided that you will marry."

Evelyn's stomach turned violently, and she felt as though all her insides were suddenly turned backwards. "But daddy, I don't even--"

"You will marry Beni Parris tomorrow morning," Seti snapped. "That is final. You have relinquished your right to have a say in this. You will marry Beni Parris tomorrow morning, or.... No. There is no 'or.' You have no choice."

And that, as reporters like Sheila later speculated, was why the princess killed herself.

They couldn't have known that a lot more planning went into it than that. After raging about her room for an hour, fuming and sobbing and throwing pillows everywhere, Evelyn took a lead from her husband. She went down to the gardens, scaled the fence with only a slight sprained knee, and set off for the temple, her thinking being that if anyone could get her out of this mess, Imhotep could.

She stormed into the priest's office, opened her mouth to speak, and promptly burst into tears.

"There, there," said Imhotep, settling her into a chair. "It's not all that bad."

"Not all that bad?" bawled Evelyn. "My husband has been forced into exile in another country because he's wanted for the murder of my cousin, and my father is forcing me to marry a weasel! How much worse can it get?"

"Just calm down," said Imhotep, who'd never been good with women and tears in combination. "You don't have to marry the weasel. For one thing, it would be illegal."

"But only three people in the entire world know that! They're going to make me marry the weasel!"

Imhotep let her cry as he worked through it in his head. Maybe they could get her out of the country. But no, there were guards everywhere, and even though she didn't know it, he was sure some had followed her here. They could explain the whole situation.... No, it was too early, it would just put more trouble on Rick. She could....

No. No, he could never ask her that. He could never ask...

But it was so perfect. Never was there a plan more foolproof, more suited to their situation. If they didn't do something now, Evelyn would have to marry the weasel tomorrow morning, Rick would never be able to come back to the city, and worst of all, the two lovers would spend their entire lives apart...

Imhotep couldn't let that happen. He knew what it was to feel heartache so intense that the world could end and you'd never notice. They would have a chance. He'd make sure of it.

"Evy," he said gently, "I think I have a plan. You have to trust me. Do you trust me?"

She nodded her head warily. "Yes, of course. But you're scaring me a little. What's the plan?"

"I want to show you a Book, Evelyn..."

It was amazing how much power they could cram into such a tiny little item. It fit into the palm of her hand, and had been neatly transported in her sock on the way back to the palace. The glassy surface gleamed in the soft light of her bedroom, and the liquid sloshed just slightly back and forth as she played with it, turned it over in her fingers. Painless, he'd said. Quick. And most of all, it wouldn't do internal damage. Her body would be whole, intact...

Dead. Evelyn shuddered. She'd never before seriously considered the possibility of her own mortality, much less the kind that she'd administer to herself. Several times she'd thrown the vial in the trash. But she retrieved it every time. One thought of Beni, and the next of Rick, and she'd salvaged it. This was their only chance. Their only option.

Evelyn sat on the bed and put the vial down on the covers next to her. She wondered if her life would pass before her eyes. She wished fervently that if it did, and if she never came back, she could replay only those bits of her life with Rick in them. She filled up her mind with thoughts of him. How beautiful his eyes were, and how she got a little thrill in her stomach when he looked at her. How wonderful it was to hear him speak, and how he hung onto every word she said like it was gospel. How he could completely overpower every ounce of her willpower when he kissed her, and how passionately he made love to her. How much like heaven it was just to lie in his arms. How she felt as though she were the luckiest woman in the world when he was with her, and how she knew he felt the same way about her. How breathtaking it was to be in love with him. She'd give anything to have that. To have him.

Evelyn uncapped the vial and raised it to her lips, hesitating only momentarily. It burned on the way down her throat, and when nothing happened at first she thought Imhotep must have given her the wrong one.

Seconds later, it hit her body that the poison was very, very real.

It only took a moment for the whole world to change.

Rick had been asleep, a fitful, nightmare-plagued sleep. In his dreams her saw her, beckoning to him from an impossible expanse of desert. When he reached her, exhausted, dying, her beautiful face would morph into that of Lock, or Seti, or Bey, or Rick's own father, tormenting him and laughing as he faded into Hell. He'd wake up with a vague feeling that something was wrong, that he should have been somewhere else. That he should have been with her.

This time, though, was different. He snapped out of sleep instantly, brought to life by the stab of a million different pains. His heart felt nearly wrenched out his chest, his head as though it might explode. Then just as suddenly as it had come, it was gone. But in its place, something was missing, something so vital to his being that he felt as though part of his soul had been torn away...

Something had happened to her.

Izzy showed up at the Oasis Hotel in Ra City the next afternoon, but Rick had bribed the owner to turn on the cable and already heard the confirmation on television. By the time Izzy got to him, he was just numb, living in a state that was neither living nor dying. He'd simply climbed into Izzy's car, mumbled, "Take me back," and proceeded to be entirely silent for the eight hour drive back to New Verona. Izzy's fumbling attempts at conversation fell on deaf ears, his pleadings that Rick should eat, sleep, say something went unheeded. They snuck into town underground, using the same tunnels Rick had used to flee.

"It wouldn't kill you to eat something, you know," said Izzy as they emerged onto the streets under the still inky sky. "Or is that the whole point?"

"I should never have left her," Rick finally said, but Izzy didn't hear him. "Goodbye, my friend. Thank you." Rick said, louder, and before Izzy could protest, Montague was gone.

He kept to shadows, making his way slowly toward the royal vaults. Now that his plan was drawing closer, the dull pain was once again crystallizing into an acute sort of mental agony. They had to have the worst luck in the universe for this to have been their fate. To know her for such a short time, to be so happy, as if their entire lives had been crammed into one thirty-six hour period. Was that what Heaven was? A fleeting glimpse of the most perfect existence before reality took over the fantasy and dragged you back to Hell?

Finally he reached the crypt, and was able to enter by waiting very patiently for security guards to come and go. Her name was marked very clearly on a map in the front entrance. He wasn't sure what he expected to see when he reached her vault. Would she be covered up, or stashed away in a sarcophagus? Would she be displayed for the gods to see, her exquisite beauty visibly wilting into the pallor of death? Surrounded by flowers, or candles, or memories? Maybe, even, this was all another terrible dream, and he'd wake up to her smiling face asking if he'd had a nightmare.

He swung the door open before he could think about it too much, and there she was. She lay on a cold slab at the end of the room, dressed in a simple black garment. She was so pale, and her hand was colder than ice when he took it in his own. He kissed her fingers, massaged her hand as if to place some measure of warmth back into her, but she remained as cold as the biting night air. "I want to tell you something," he whispered, leaning close to her ear, knowing she would hear him. "It may not mean anything now. I don't know if I'm ever going to see you again. I don't know what comes next for me. All I can hope is that you're happy. I hope you're somewhere where you get everything you deserve, because you should have had everything. I'm sorry, Evy. I'm so sorry I let you down. I'm sorry I couldn't..."

His words faded into his closed throat and simply wouldn't come anymore. He reached around his collar and unhooked the delicate clasp of the locket's chain, replacing it around her ashen neck. He kissed her frozen lips softly, summoning up cruel memories of when they'd been warm, when she'd kissed him back. He'd never get to kiss her again.

Rick raised the gun to his temple, and...

...and the locket fell open.

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Mmmmm, yummy cliffhanger. More reviews, faster posting time.....*cackle cackle bwahahahahaha*