Author's Note:

I wonder if you guys still read this. Am really trying my best to finish it, although it's getting very very difficult lately because of a lot of other things that have just suddenly cropped up. But it's only 1 last chapter to go, and we're done.

Thank you for reading. Comments and reviews are never more needed.

Chapter 24

Present day Egypt, the outskirts of Hamunaptra

"Oh my god, Rick!" Evelyn O'Connell hissed and sat up straight, disoriented by the number of plants that surrounded them, accidentally kicking the remains of the wood, ashes and their dinner.

Her husband opened his eyes halfway, sleepily rubbing his face, the slow languor of the earthy air brushing them both.

"Yeah honey?"

"Oh Rick, your reflexes are slowing. We overslept!"

"We what?!"

"Overslept. The sun is high above our heads! I'm guessing it's past noon."

"It is strange, as if time has stopped in this oasis." He observed.

"We have to hurry!"

"Time and tide waits for no man huh?" He grinned.

"Oh do be serious! Hamunaptra awaits."

"You know honey, I can never muster up the same enthusiasm you have for that damned city, and I'm not even trying."

His wife stood up and with a determination, stuck her arms under his own, and with a leg on his backside, hauled him up successfully.

He turned to her, bewildered.

"Where did you learn that?"

"My husband taught me." She replied smugly. She gathered their belongings, strapped on her gun and dagger and saw Rick standing motionless, looking at her quizzically.

"Honey, I only taught you head-butting and a few gun tricks, not gymnastics."

"Oh well, I saw you do it before, to Beni." She confessed lightly.

He looked at her in surprise; there was always something about his wife that never failed to amuse him.

"A fast and keen learner," He teased and nodded, springing into action then and saddled their horses. "Let's be on our way. I wouldn't want to be without my flexible and malleable wife when combating forces unseen."

Present day Egypt, Hamunaptra

She stepped gingerly into the small crevice and into pitch darkness, pushing several life-sized obstructions out of the way, lowering herself into a cavernous opening that was bigger than she had expected, running her fingers reverently over the intricate carvings in the partially collapsed stone wall.

A torch was lit behind her, and she heard the lightness of his footsteps hit the ground before she saw him, the black phantom that blended perfectly with the surrounding darkness, the planes of his face harsh by firelight, head held high supported by the strong neck that rose from the open collar of his shirt, peering sharply into the distance.

"The air is stale." He sniffed delicately, not wanting to displace the dust that had collected around the sharp edges of the fallen artefacts.

She nodded mutely, the need for words suddenly removed from both of them, the blanketing and weighted silence cloaking them heavily.

They stumbled less and less as they penetrated the deep bowels of the city, their moves more in sync with one another's, adroitly avoiding the lingering obstructions as their eyes adjusted to the darkness, casting but single glances to their sides as they walked seemingly endlessly.

"So it seems that Hamunaptra was not completely ravaged, as we all assumed," Ardeth murmured in wonder, "its underground passages are still intact."

The uneasiness that grew on her was not unfelt, a superficial tingle against her skin that grew gradually to envelope the senses, until she breathed shortly.

"Ardeth, something is not right." She bit out, not able to exactly articulate the sways of emotions that had assaulted her.

"Things like these seldom are." He gritted out, wincing in pain when his foot struck a large protruding rock that rose out smoothly from nowhere.

Lowering the torch that he carried upright, the light allowing him closer inspection of the area they were passing through, which he realised with no great amount of trembling and excitement, was an area that had been restricted to high priests and their apprentices - the large slab of stone that was used to lay bodies down, the area where the rack of assorted potions and spells were laid, now empty and gaping; their only adornment were the fragments of rocks and boulders that littered the place. There was nonetheless a deep-seated familiarity and a great misgiving that assailed him, feelings that he had not yet put down.

"Alexandra," He motioned with his other hand.

She turned immediately to what he was inspecting, the world around her undergoing a dreamlike alienation at the stone slab and the intact chamber that materialised before them.

"The High priest's chamber." His voice was otherworldly in the gloom and somewhat muffled in the strange air that permeated their surroundings, tinged with a quiver of excitement and fear that she had never heard before.

"We are getting close." She whispered, feeling the words slip out, not knowing what had prompted that.

"To the scrolls?"

"I guess." She put up a hand to stop the question forming on his mouth. "Don't ask me how I said that."

They continued to pass similar chambers like those that they had seen, the number of stone slabs increasing, until they entered a space that opened up at the end of the row of chambers, originally wide but now cluttered with remnant of stone blocks, pillars and more unmarked stone slabs.

"I did not think that there were so many chambers that the high priests had." He admitted. Alex shrugged, a certain stone slab that they passed looked unnaturally reflective under the firelight.

"Ardeth!"

"The stone slabs are tombs, Alexandra." He peered closely at some slabs that had been broken by the shock when the main complex collapsed, ancient linen wrappings and broken mummified skeletons strewn about, strangely drawn to the slabs; the unspoken magnetic pull to them too strong too resist.

"Look at that one. Most of the sarcophagi are unmarked. This one looks different - there are carvings on it. Maybe that accounts for that glint we see." She brought his hand that carried the torch closer.

Ardeth felt the hair on the back of his neck and arms stand.

I swear to you that there are things more divine which we do not know of, more beautiful than words can tell, my love.

"Did you hear that?" He turned wild-eyed, searching for that voice that he heard.

She nodded her head slowly, puzzled.

"I do not know what is happening, Ardeth."

With great effort they both lifted the stone cover, and in the wake of the resounding groan of the moving rock, they gazed down on a mummy, curiously wrapped, its front looking as if something was wrapped underneath it.

"I think we are looking at something very significant."

Alex paused to dig in her bag for something, finally pulling out a pair of cotton gloves and slipped them on deftly.

"You brought those?" Ardeth asked in surprise.

She grinned, face flushed and heady with excitement.

"I did tell you and the O'Connells about my theory didn't I? That the scrolls might have been poisoned? That the lethalness of poison may last for a long time if undisturbed? It may be a wrong conclusion, or even a wrong thought process that led to that wrong conclusion," Her breaths came in short puffs, "But there is always room for errors."

"No prophetic statements are allowed."

She raised an eyebrow at yet another cryptic statement that he seemed to relish making from time to time, before turning around to face all that lay before her.

"I meant that," he insisted. "One cannot afford carelessness around Hamunaptra at all. It is a place where words and actions have greater power than any other place."

"This one looks ripe for the picking," she murmured, bending over to touch the disintegrating wrappings. The ancient linen looked surprisingly taut in certain areas, but nevertheless never withstood the erosive nature of time, falling away easily as she gently tugged at them, revealing the elegantly carved letterings.

Taprus paräsum as'saat tiïë täsuut ezzütu naqam bëlütu im atakkal
taprus paräsum ïterub näqiru nïrubillik úmut paqädum uptanarrás.

May the scrolls that brought you death now bring you remembrance as they corrupt all those who touch you, may you lay dormant but suspended, in peace until we meet again.

"What was that?" There was a wild gleam in his eyes, and her turned his head frantically in the darkness, as if expecting a pounce from a wild animal crouching in secret.

"I did not hear anything Ardeth." She looked at him concernedly, following his line of vision, and holding him by the shoulders when he swayed dizzily.

"What is that before you? Or who?" He demanded abruptly, harshly, the involuntary raise in pitch making her take a step back from him, fear spreading over her face.

"I am sorry," He confessed a moment later as they continued staring as one another, neither moving, neither saying a word, barely breathing. "I do not have any scholarly instincts within me."

"Did I talk too insensitively? I am drawn to it," She replied simply. "You can call it human instinct, and not scholarly instinct as it may be famously labelled. Something unexplainable, just the same way when you discover a blade pressed to your belly and you react intuitively by turning on your attacker. I am guided by that same instinct, no different."

He gave her a small motion to carry on, pacing whatever space permitted him to do so, the unease and cries rising within.

The unwrapping was done quickly, but the bare state of the blackened skeleton revealed all that Alex had and wanted to see. She gently removed the stray fragments of bones that surrounded the scrolls, remarkably preserved in their sheen, their lightweight in her hands somewhat recognisable, as though she had always known that the scrolls and her were inseparable.

"Dear god, this is Bembridge's greatest dream fulfilled." She busied herself, brushing her gloves over the scrolls almost reverently. Stray pieces of sharp rocks however, had caused her to stumble and slip backwards, Ardeth's hand that had reached out to steady her a second too late. Alex found herself in a seated position on the ground, wincing at the sting of the sharp rocks that prodded at her hands and at her posterior.

Ardeth's laugh was cut short when his eyes caught and held the main skeleton that lay under the scrolls, lured and enticed by the skull and the connecting bones of the body, greyed and spotted black with age, feeling the sudden urge to fall unconscious.

Two women hovered over him, their eyes worried, faces drawn and pale, one of them he recognised as Alexandra, the other as Evy, who held cloths filled with water over him, the droplets of which he fought to catch desperately, the other who held a knife over him.

Alex was poring over the scrolls, translating them as she read, realising that it was indeed the record of the infamous Passover, the night where so many of Egypt's firstborns breathed their last.

But a noise from the rear end of the tunnel pulled him out of the hands of memory, and he squinted to see two approaching figures holding fiery torches, stumbling towards them in a comic fashion.

"Ardeth!"

"Dr. Khalan!"

The unnatural buzz and stillness of the labyrinth were chased away by their cheery voices, and Evy made her way excitedly over to Alex, eyes widening, stumbling over stray rocks.

"Behold, Bembridge's champion." She grinned.

"How did you find us?"

"We saw your horses, and walked around a bit, before we saw some footprints that led down this way." Evy shrugged.

"You know Evy, I feel as if there is something that I still don't know." Alex said, standing up with great frustration. "As if we are walking this path to Hamunaptra, and we find the very object that we are looking for, and while I am thrilled, there are missing pictures I can't seem to place my finger on, that we are only living on incomplete knowledge, that" she stumbled a bit, "that things are so anti-climactic."

"This is it." Evy stated matter-of-factly, also slightly disappointed at the seeming lack of daredevil action that had accompanied them on every trip.

"It is a nice change, isn't it?" Rick added dryly. "That we finally managed to get into Hamunaptra, and you get what you want, all without the fuss of saving the world, and saving our own hearts in the process? Hey, we haven't been this clean in such expeditions. Ever."

Ardeth smiled briefly.

"O'Connell is right. But so is Alexandra. There is something more, but I do not know what."

"Like we are such puppets, the way we seem to be led around without fully knowing and understanding, without having a clear picture of everything." Alex sighed. "What about the dreamsthe-"

"What dreams?" Rick asked curiously.

"Some things, O'Connell, we just cannot explain ourselves." Ardeth interrupted.

"You tell me," he muttered back. "I still carry the scratches that the scorpion-thing made."

"We have, essentially found what is needed. No mummy curses, no invocations, thank god. So shouldn't we be on our way out?" Evy called out.

"Wait." Alex held up a hand. "Wouldn't anyone want to see what lies deeper?"

The other three looked at each other.

"No." It was a collective answer, said with great affirmation.

The bright sunlight kissed them welcome as they emerged, mounting their horses, as they rode away, spirited, with a newfound strength from the scene of demolition. They rode past the intensely memorable oasis, and back into the wilderness of rock, sand and unchanging landscape that stretched up to the edge of Cairo itself.

But by dusk, there was a persistent lethargy that hung over Alex that the rest did not seem to feel; exhilarated instead that they had come away easily. The scrolls that were to precious to be placed in her bag were held tightly in her gloved hands and had seemed to grow heavier with each gallop, the growing uncoordination of her senses and limbs creeping upon her.

"We rest here," Ardeth announced, dismounting with the O'Connells, turning his gaze to Alex, immediately alarmed by her unfocused eyes and unusual waxen complexion.

"Alex, you are more than tired." Evy observed worriedly.

"It's probably just rest and sleep that will make me as sprightly as you all," she murmured indistinctly, the blood roaring through her ears, their voices far away.

Ardeth had helped her down from the horse, and she slumped against him a bit, her tired hands finally dropping the scrolls onto the ground, and to their greatest horror, saw the significant tear on the glove and the blood had escaped them all.

"Oh my god. I never knew."

"No one did, not even her. It must have torn when she fell onto the rocks," Ardeth felt his heart constricting. Allah help us all, he thought, face tortured by pain, panic stricken that her gloves had torn without any of them realising it.

"Ardeth, we can't stop now." Rick put in. "We are just a few hours' ride from our Cairo house. This desert will kill her."

Rick O'Connell was right, he acknowledged, his knowledge of poisons wide enough to recognise the ruthlessness of the environment that now closeted them. He trembled as he held her to him, her eyes closing, dropping fast into delirium. He nodded and shakily lifted her on his horse before hoisting himself up again, leaving Evy and O'Connell to transport the scrolls as they wished; the burden that had become suddenly so clear was the woman who lay dying in his arms and not the ancient papyrus.

Nothing less than a seizure, the extraordinary expansion of an inner self that rose to meet the physicality and carnality of flesh, strangely passionate and hallucinatory, turning the shivering into vision.

His arms around her triggered off the ancient memories once again; they splayed colourfully around them, cloaking them with swirls in the night, bursting like fireworks, this time, more ominously, they also proclaimed death if she was not saved.

He had died the last time, the 'hows' and the 'whys' - reasons that were still shady to him. But he swore on his very heartbeat that she would not.

Hamunaptra, c.a 1279 B.C

What are you doing, Rai? The queen's shocked expression and restraining hand around hers made her smile ironically.

Aretas once asked me that, when I held a dagger against him. Then he gave me his own dagger much later, because he feared for me. Will I kill a man whom I love to remove all the pain that he is now feeling? I tell you now that I have thought of it. But I am a healer, and I try to save first.

Enough blood has been shed, Nefertiri gritted her teeth.

I will bleed him now, Nefertiri, Rai had turned to face Nefertiri again, to save his life. Pungent ointments cannot fight against what eats him inside. These must be gone, and his blood has to be shed. It has to be shed now, because of the evil that has spread through the Egyptian court! Her voice was now raised, as she teetered at the end of her own self-control.

Enheduana-Rai held the dagger in a firm grip, watching Aretas' eyes flit open and then close, catching the gleam of the blade in the slits.

She made the first incision near his collarbone, stray tears that diluted the dark red blood seeping out, pausing in between the movements of the blade to press her lips to his tenderly.

Your willingness to see me as a woman, not as a possession, but a complete person who has tales of her own to tell, of secrets of foreign lands that Egypt has no knowledge about will be then revealed to you because you chose to be patient with me, and because you took the time to unravel a person for who she is. And now am I to lose a treasure, Aretas?

The knife continued its movement on the other side of his neck, as she gathered him to her, before standing up.

Do you think the sight of his broken body pleases me? It haunts me, that blood that I draw from him! She covered her face with bloodied hands, shaking with agony, before straightening her shoulders and kneeling by his side once more. Her head dropped even lower, so that the soft scent of her hair wafted towards him as her chest heaved with a heavy, frightened, inarticulate sorrow, fingers twitching in his.

Nefertiri kept silent, the horrific sight of the other two bodies bathed in blood too reminiscent of Djosyn's brokenness.

How much are you drawing from him?, she asked the healer instead, placing her hope in the skills that Enheduana-Rai possessed.

Throughout the night, was the reply.

Sit with me, the queen offered, draw your comfort by knowing that I have also suffered as much as you are suffering now.

It was a nightlong vigil that Nefertiri also kept for Aretas, her own eyes drawn out from the sleeplessness of the past days, grief that spilled out from the sides of her eyes as she looked at the wounded Medjai, someone else's lover and companion, suffering longer and slower than the way Djosyn had.

She held a pot of water nearby, dripping it down his lips when he grew paler, or when he moaned in more pain from the incisions that Rai was doing.

Djosyn's end had come as a shock, but the pain of watching Rai's helplessness as she fought against the poison that crept through Aretas' body was starker; it was surely the end for him too. Hollowed women, she thought, women who had love beaten out of them to death's other kingdom, lips that only formed prayers not upwards to the gods, but only to broken stones.

Enheduana-Rai was once again bent over her motionless lover, with a face that never dried as she worked, holding his very own dagger in front of his neck, desperately bleeding acupoints in his throat, the man who was filled with cuts barely opening his eyes with the additional pain.

My love, forgive me for the pain that the cuts I make. Return to me, Aretas, Enheduana-Rai needs you desperately.

The words were familiar to her; she had told him so the first night they had spent together, as their bodies had embraced in violent writhing, quaking lips pressed together as the world had fallen away again and again.

Miraculously, his eyes cleared, as if he had been granted a moment of clarity and wholeness, and he opened his mouth to speak.

Aretas! She clutched the sides of his face, her thumbs gently wiping his flowing blood away, seeing the brief smile that curled his lips and the fading twinkle in his eyes. The sad and sorry plight will pass you by!

No, he shook his head. I tire, Rai, I cannot fight anymore. I am truly the last of the Medjai? Tears seeped past his tired eyes, unwilling to believe, that even at the point of death, that they had so easily been vanquished.

Hear me, Aretas! This will bring you joy.

The queen stepped forward, commanding his flailing attention. Djosyn had relocated Medjai partially before, she stumbled over the words, the anguish still fresh, Djosyn had taken care of some of them before he died. The Viceroy knows nothing of this secret location. Young boys, and their mothers stay there. Take heart! The Medjai will grow strong again!

Did you hear that, my love? Another voice, soft, gentle, wafted towards him. Triumph can also come quietly, and at the point when you thought all was lost.

His hand moved weakly to cover hers, their blood, sweat and tears meshing as one, already turning into a reminiscence, already eternalising the unearthly sadness.

Do not weep my love! It does your glory wrong! He commanded weakly. I swear to you that there are things more divine which we do not know of, more beautiful than words can tell, my love. I may go for now, and by the gods, I will return to you.

His eyes closed, the gentle heaving of his chest stopped, the flitting of the wounded spirit and soul now only too free to take flight as Horus had always intended.

But the stars are not wanted now, not when his life had left her; the bliss that had been stored up in her and him was now to be poured away, the joy to be dismantled and crushed; she was sure that all would have been forgiven should his body rise once again from the dead, but it was all in vain. Her Aretas, dead, and unresponsive, in her arms.

She wept then, crying over his body.

I laughed and cried because of you; I was reborn also, to every wound and every caress that you have made

Beauty, midnight, the idyllic vision died with him, the bittersweet and fierce remembrance of their nights together returning to her, only now that it put her in chains.

It was her tears that formed a cocoon around him, forming his ephemeral grave before his body was returned to the dust and the soil of the Nile, not knowing how long she lay on her knees, clutching his body, imagining that he still had life that flowed through his heart, thinking that he might once again bestow that heady, desirous glance at her, that his hand might move to lock her in a powerful embrace, that his lips might claim hers for his.

Nefertiri watched the couple with great sorrow, the clutter and mess of blood, tears and carelessly strewn strips of cloths, unable to absorb the enormity and intensity of it all, sinking to her knees next to Enheduana-Rai herself, weeping with her.

But it was Rai, and only her, the mind that refused to let go, her lips that were still pressed against his, her arms that willed his arms to move around her again, her eyes that begged him to return to her. Not a kiss, not a thought, nor a look that was to be lost even in the moments after he died, the gentle breezes of delusion blowing around her, momentary, leaving as soon as they swirled around her, shifting sands, skeletons and dryness remaining in their wake.

Nothing unfailing, and now nothing real, his simulacrum told her that the universe was granted for her own, where time was measured unaccountably until it was grabbed by the fist, and wringed in front of her.

O gods, she cried out, could she have not clasped him tighter; the grains of golden sands that escaped her palms; she had only sipped the liquor that was him, before he was taken from her.

Farewell Aretas! She bade him disconsolately, the chant and the prayers falling from her lips like running water that had not the capacity to bring life back. May you be welcomed with the open arms into the heavenly realms of the gods.

Your shoulders are not so broad as to carry all the tasks laid upon you, such that you will not see the most extravagant passions that life might give you, she dimly heard a voice urging her, a gentle hand on her shoulder, and looking up, she saw Nefertiri, the queen who was also so acquainted with sorrow that she knew a kindred spirit had touched her.