Speak Softly
An Eye For Nothing

1935: Ardeth Bay is resurrected from the dead. He awakens to a world vastly different, to familiar faces changing and to the knowledge that he is Egypt's final hope for freedom.

He also finds out just how far love and despair can take him.

~~~~~~~

Ardeth paced his tent, waiting for whatever fate would toss him. He supposed that any time now Imhotep would finally show his face and grandly offer him his freedom. And of course Ardeth would walk away with it. He would play the game until he found a way to win it. Ardeth never broke a promise, not to another or to himself.

Kicking the sand beneath his feet, he let his gaze fall upon the bloody cot nearby. His blood, dried and dark. Yet he bore no wounds to prove the red substance had come from him. None save the wounds on his heart. So much suffering had come from this one man, this priest who had died for love. Yet in a way Ardeth could understand why things had happened as they had. He knew what little love that had begun between he and Evelyn had brought to him already a resolve of doing what was best for her because he loved her. He did not know how long Imhotep had loved Ancksunamun, but even a short time would have been powerful.

Ardeth hated understanding Imhotep's motives, however. He hated that small well of pity that arose in him whenever he thought about all Imhotep had suffered for love. He had been wrong to murder Seti in cold blood and wrong to try and bend the world to his will out of revenge for the curse he had been given. But he could understand the original intent.

Wrapping himself deeper into his pointless, torn robe, Ardeth sighed at the chill in the air, praying fervently that it would not rain today. He could do without getting drenched again. Then again, perhaps he would never fully get away from that. The weather may not go away with the king's death.

He still felt a little weak, but otherwise decent. Of course almost anything other than having his body cut to shreds was a step up. Still, it would make for slower travel if he had to rest more. He was eager to have his freedom so he could retrieve the Book of Amun Ra and if possible, the Staff of Osiris. That last caused him some puzzlement and he frowned. The book alone had stopped Imhotep before, but Necromancer seemed intent on getting the staff as well. Perhaps it was a trap. Ardeth wasn't sure what to believe about anything right now, be it about Necromancer, Rick or Evelyn.

But before he could fall too deeply into the trap of brooding, an interruption presented itself. From behind where he stood in his tent someone entered and he turned, expecting to see Imhotep. Instead it was merely one of the assistants that had buried the post in the ground for him to be bound to. His expression was hard as he pointed and announced, "The King and Queen will see you off now."

King and Queen, he thought with distaste. Ardeth inhaled and followed, keeping his arms crossed as if it would protect him from further injury. They stepped out into the soft daylight and he looked up, seeing Evy with her hand entangled with Imhotep's and learned his arms were of little use to protect his heart. She was going to suffer if she stayed and the thought was unacceptable and unbearable, but nothing could be done.

The priest held his head high, as any king should. When they came face to face with equally firm expressions Ardeth found he had nothing to say. He would not thank Imhotep for this verbally and the silence hung between them for a short span until finally Imhotep raised an eyebrow, but took no offence and spoke. "I give you your freedom on the terms that you will leave and never return. If I lay eyes upon you again, you will die. You may tell O'Connell the same."

"I understand," Ardeth replied coldly, avoiding Evy's eyes as much as she seemed to avoid his. This would be easier on them all if he just left, but everything in him spoke against it. He exhaled and looked out towards the desert, forcing himself to say, "By your leave."

Imhotep's lips spread into an unfriendly smile as he nodded once, then held up a long, black cloth. "A gift of parting, Ardeth Bay, for the pain my jackals caused you. I regret the brutality that was done upon you. Remove the past and embrace the future. For it is mine." He spread the fabric, revealing it to be a long robe as was customary for the priest to wear. It had only one decoration on it, a small symbol of Osiris near the collar. Imhotep's amusement flickered openly across his features, for this was not merely a gift. It was an assurance of obedience. It was a last stab before parting. Ardeth wanted no part of being branded to this man's service, so he hesitated.

A soft breeze rustled through his hair as Imhotep waited for him to take the cloak, willing it with eyes daring him to cause friction between them, but movement stopped them both from wondering what Ardeth would do. It was Evelyn that moved, her dark eyes meeting his with sorrow and his hurt over her words of using him and wanting Rick waned. He wanted to touch her still, to whisper a promise to save her, but even if Imhotep were not watching he feared would be unable to speak any words of good-bye. So he spoke with his eyes as she took the cloak from Imhotep, her soft pull holding enough command to make the priest let go.

Though her resolve remained, he could see the pain that hurting him had caused her and Ardeth let go of his jealousy. This wasn't her fault. It wasn't Rick's. It was the priest's.

She stepped around him and he closed his eyes, knowing that after this morning he could possibly never see her again. Please, give me one sign of hope, he prayed silently, looking up at Eternal Sorrow and ignoring Imhotep's presence. But Evelyn gave him no hope. He felt a small tug on his robe and turned with gentle eyes to see what she would have of him. Evy only looked away at that. "Take this off," she whispered, pulling at the robe again. She wanted him to remove it and wear the clothing of his enemy.

"I can't. I'll have nothing left," he answered and she glared up with tears threatening her cheeks.

That same commanding touch she had with Imhotep in taking the cloak held sway over himself, Ardeth realized, as she began sliding the robe down his arms. He found himself powerless to stop her despite what a terrible thing she was doing. The torn Med-Jai robe hit the sand and jarred everything inside of him—every bit of tradition and honor for the Med-Jai, and he had to turn away when Evy lifted the black robe of Osiris.

Even the king seemed troubled by what was happening, as if he understood, gazing behind Ardeth's shoulder with a mildly surprised expression. It was all he had left of his people, tattered as it was, and she was demanding he leave it and her behind for so little as his life. Yet he had no strength to deny her. Imhotep, he would have fought until his death before obeying such a command, but Evy held an entirely different power over him. So he accepted this as he accepted all the sad events of this morning. Ardeth straightened his arms and looked down to the earth, unwilling to allow Imhotep the pleasure of seeing how hard this was for him. He closed his eyes, feeling her fingers trail his skin as she shrouded the fabric about his shoulders.

Evy let her hands rest on him for a tense moment after the cloak was let go, then drew herself around, so close and warm. He looked down, still asking for that sign and this time by the mercy of Heaven she gave him one. Now in front of him and heedless of any anger Imhotep might have, Evelyn wrapped her hand around Ardeth's neck and pulled him down. Her lips pressed against cheek for a moment, then she drew his ear to her mouth, whispering, "Carry that with you for the past, Ardeth and remember what I told you of the future. I serve him." Their good-bye came to an end with that and Evy stepped back beside her king. Imhotep's hand curled again around hers as if to demonstrate his possession of her.

Ardeth gazed at those clenched hands a moment, then forced himself to meet the eyes of his enemy. The returning gaze was hard, but not threatening. An assistant shoved a brown pack into his hands and the king spared him from having to speak. "I free you. You have leave to go. Remember my terms."

Bay straightened and brushed away the anger at Imhotep's voice, breathing to this hated priest, "I will never forget." He glanced at Evy and she avoided him again, so he did what he deemed would be wisest. If he didn't leave her now, he couldn't be certain he ever could. Ardeth turned and began east, feeling like he was abandoning his history and the woman he loved.

The breeze was cool, but he could feel the heat of the sun trying to break through the gray barrier of Imhotep's magic. The mix felt good, probably the only thing that would today and for many tomorrows to come. He shouldered the bag and stared out ahead, his outlook uncertain. The rest of this trip would be made alone and that dragged him down, but his mission remained. The priest saw his acceptance as defeat, but Ardeth would not let it be so. Let the king rest in security for now, for his time was drawing to a close. Ardeth would make the vision of Ancksunamun come true. It was his destiny.

The robes of Imhotep trailed behind him, splashing his body with the current of the wind and it caused him to shiver. Everything was changed since his death. Why should Rick and Evy not be a part of that? She did not know what she had just done, for that had been a wound every bit as painful as what those jackals had dealt. He loved his people and the history he had been brought up in. A history his children would have to rely on only his memory of if he ever had any.

He was thankful his parents had not lived to see such times. This would have broken their hearts. His father had been so proud to be a Med-Jai and proud of his son for the skill and wisdom he possessed. Thank God he had not seen the end of his people. Yet Ardeth supposed if there were a last Med-Jai, his father would have been in some way proud it was he that carried it on. But what man can remember all of the teachings of a lifetime? There would be gaps in what he told his children.

Ardeth brushed his long hair back and let himself enjoy the wind that caressed him, one of the few changes he didn't hate—if rain didn't accompany it. It soothed most of his aches and pains. Yet he knew he would not escape totally. Everything seemed to fill him, both the life and hurt all around. Egypt was crying and his changed spirit accepted the hurt and the despair, called it to his heart as if it were all his own pain. It came to him unbidden, unwanted and terrible in its saturation and he could not understand its purpose or why resurrection had done this. He wondered if Imhotep had felt this way after being brought back.

He is cursed, Ardeth reminded himself in answer, realizing suddenly the priest did not. Imhotep's return had been hailed by a curse, his own by a blessing. That would explain why the priest felt so little about the acts of evil he so carelessly committed. A curse was an empty, lonely thing and a blessing consumed like fire.

His musings were interrupted when he caught something in his peripheral vision. A shadow came towards him with a slow but deliberate gait. Necromancer. Ardeth groaned inwardly and stopped, waiting for his former friend—another mystery to be uncovered. The deathly creature kept its robe wrapped tightly around its withered body to keep life from touching him.

The hood over Necromancer's head hid his face from Ardeth's eyes. Rasping in air, the creature clasped its hands together and said, "Greetings, Ardeth Bay." That hateful voice sounded weaker, as if being out tired him. He seemed to watch Ardeth for a moment after speaking, then his head jerked back and two black, glittering eyes met his own in realization. "You shared your life with the priest! You even wear his mark!" he hissed in a voice filled with dread, fury and loathing.

Ardeth backed away as one of those pallid hands darted out to grasp him. He liked those two facts even less than Necromancer, but what was done was done. Still, it bothered him that this thing could see the king's power on him. "Imhotep sustained me with his life. It was not my choice."

Necromancer seemed to tremble and Ardeth couldn't decide whether it seemed more in fear or rage. The answer came when again the undead thing made an attack, hands moving faster this time than Ardeth could counter. Necromancer seized his arm and scratched it, drawing and spilling blood over his own gnarled flesh. The result was instantaneous. He shrieked and backed off, hissing and growling things the Med-Jai couldn't guess. "Your blood still burns to the touch!" he accused and Bay turned away in disgust.

He started walking, ignoring Necromancer as the creature followed behind, breathing in its moist breaths and muttering foul curses. Ardeth pulled back his black sleeve and clutched his arm in pain, watching red slowly drip down his flesh. It stung bad enough, but wasn't deep. Necromancer glared at the red, but attempted civility. "So, you have figured out the difference between you and Imhotep, have you? You fool! You let him steal part of your blessing. Now he may again find redemption, for mercy is entitled to all who carry a blessing upon their lives. In exchange for that you have taken part of his curse upon yourself!"

Ardeth stopped and faced his old friend quickly at that. "What do you mean I've taken his curse?" Sajul was not lying. He had felt it even before, but had no name with which to call what was happening until now. What would this do to him?

Deep in his chest Necromancer rasped a laugh and hovered his hand between touching Ardeth's bloody arm and not. "His curse is like a poison in your spirit, Ardeth. If you are strong enough you will prevail against it, just as if he is evil enough, he will prevail against the blessing. If you are weak, the curse could consume you."

"You lie," Ardeth retorted, not believing that. Yet his heart warned him against such quick assumptions. For all his faults Necromancer did seem to know of these things.

Necromancer wrung his hands and smiled darkly. "Guard your heart well, Ardeth, for you may come to know evil as he knows it. It's a part of you now and will eat at you, dragging you to despair. There is a shadow over your soul."

Something about that didn't sound right and Ardeth started walking again, questions on his tongue, but coming no further. He did not want to believe that. It didn't sound possible, but he could feel the curse on him. He felt dirty and that added to his list of things to worry about at his earliest inconvenience. "You do not want to believe," Necromancer cooed, sounding pleased by that fact. "Do you not feel the link to him? Do you not understand even the very surface of his heart?"

He did understand Imhotep a little better. Ardeth inhaled and searched himself, looking for any hint of some sort of link. It was there, but barely. A simple awareness of Imhotep's life. He frowned at the idea, but did not let himself spare worry over it now. Necromancer was trying to frighten him. "It will not work," he told the creature, knowing he had heard his thoughts.

Necromancer hacked and laughed at the Med-Jai's resolve, his hands rubbing again as if he were anticipating some great gift. That irritated Bay and quite plainly was going to have to change or he would have to tie the beast's wrists together. "You're right, Ardeth," he sneered sarcastically, amusement still touching his voice. "I make it all up, just as your Evelyn lied to save you. Perhaps if you keep believing these things they will be true someday."

"Never speak her name," Ardeth replied in a deadly quiet tone, picking up his pace in the hope of leaving this wretched being behind. Sajul was not fit to speak her name with his foul lips.

"Hhrrr. You protect her still, even though she used you to escape the pain. But I see your doubt. You can hide from yourself, but not me, Ardeth. I see all."

Ardeth grunted his reply and kept his eyes ahead. For one who could see all it seemed apparent he could not see how weary he was of his talk. A trip alone with this thing seemed quite an absurd idea just now, for if this kept up Ardeth felt he was going to have trouble restraining himself. He ventured a sidelong glare at the necromancer, who stared back with strange eyes. "You could never stand up to me, Ardeth," he said in a somewhat lower voice. "From the time when we were children until even after you grew up I was always the stronger. Do you remember when I broke your arm? How sorry I was?"

Unnerved a little by this change of mood, Ardeth looked away and nodded, but said nothing. He wasn't entirely comfortable with this and Necromancer would know it. The rasping stopped and so did the talking after Sajul whispered, "You are right. Things can never be the same."

~~~~~~~

Sitting with his forehead leaned against the thick bars behind which he was caged, Rick blinked once and continued staring at the wall across from him. This little jail had no windows, so he guessed he was beneath the ground. He hadn't been awake for the trip here. They hadn't given him any food or water, hadn't come to see about him in the long hours he had been awake and for all the world appeared as if they had forgotten him. Well, it wouldn't be the first time he had been stuck in a situation like this.

At least he was alone. If he had to be in jail he would prefer to have the place to himself, without the fear of offending a more violently inclined criminal. Still, he had no one to talk to, nothing to take his mind off of his worries. He was thankful Jonathan had gotten away, but could have stood the company of the Englishman.

So he had thought playing cards with those thugs had been a good idea? After all he'd been through he was entitled to a few screw-ups. But why did they always have to get him into such trouble? The morning he had gotten up and started to ready himself to take Evy out to Hamunaptra for the first time he had known he was making a mistake, but she had such pretty eyes. And look what that one single mistake had gotten them into. Oh, and naturally, of course, this probably wouldn't be his last blunder.

Rick drew his legs up on the wooden cot he was sitting on and rested his back against the cold bars so he could examine his own cell again. The crack in the upper left hand corner was getting annoying, for every time he turned in this direction Rick found his eyes traveling to it. He had already gotten his arm good and sore from trying to shove at it, seeing if it was weak enough to break. Unfortunately, it wasn't.

He sighed, wondering what Evy was doing just now. Jonathan had told him the news of Imhotep's proposal and while Rick knew it wouldn't ever be some loving marriage, it still made him jealous. He could picture that bastard's arm snaking around her possessively and that really, really bugged him. He would have gladly endured seeing Evy with Ardeth instead of that prospect.

Those jealous feelings over Ardeth started stirring again and Rick felt guilty. His friend was dead and he was still angry. There had to be something wrong with that. He had been confused and uncertain about what to hope for. A part of him had wanted Ardeth to let it go and step aside no matter what notions Evy had running through her mind, but the other part—the unselfish part of him that got on his nerves, that part wanted to deck Ardeth good and hard for letting something like that happen without knowing if was happening out of love. If Evy got her heart broken over this… But she wouldn't and he couldn't stay angry with a dead man. Not without feeling guilty and he didn't need that right now.

Instead Rick turned his thoughts to wondering what on earth Jonathan was up to. At the first sign of trouble, and being the less talkative that night, Jonathan had been able to make it to the door before the thugs took notice and gave chase. Obviously they hadn't caught him, or he would be locked up here. At least Rick hoped that were the case. He could only pray another one of his friends hadn't been killed, but this was Jonathan. He was clumsy, but slippery enough to escape death on many occasions. Right now he was probably hiding in some tavern or small town or something. Whatever the case Rick hoped it was far from here.

A creaking sound filled the air and Rick sat up, turning to see who was coming for him. "Well, finally," he groused, shoving his arms between the cell bars and looking up.

The man was tall and a westerner, with silver hair tied back in a ponytail and dark eyes. He was dressed finely and wore an expression halfway between amused and irritated. "Greetings, stranger. My name is Jorin," he said in a calm, sophisticated voice touched slightly with an accent Rick couldn't place. "I am going to ask you a question and for your sake I hope you answer right. Are you with Imhotep, or against him?"

Rick leaned his head back and wiggled his fingers absently, trying to figure this man out. "Can't a man just try to live without choosing sides?"

Jorin's mouth spread into a smile, the only movement he had made since coming to stand before Rick's cell. He shook a thoughtful finger and took a step to his left, then turned back to Rick. "One can try to strive for such an existence, but in the end a time comes when a side must be chosen. Never mind my question. I will ask it later perhaps. I've been told your name is Matthew, but that isn't true, is it?"

"Nope. You're right. My name isn't Matthew," Rick confessed, sitting back against the wall and closing his eyes.

He could hear the other man pacing a little and ventured a small peek through slightly opened lids, but otherwise remained aloof and cool. Jorin chuckled. "You have quite an attitude. I assume you know it's very dangerous to have blue eyes in this country."

Keeping his eyes closed, O'Connell shrugged his shoulders and decided to play a bluff. "Only if you're a certain man, my friend. If you aren't Imhotep sets you free. Even gives you a mark to show you've already been to see him." He sat up and smiled at Jorin smartly, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling the fabric to show his shoulder.

At this Jorin's dark smile deepened in great amusement as he peered at the mark, then stood straight. "You don't know what that mark means, do you, Rick O'Connell?" Rick frowned and jerked his shirt back. The other man waved his hand in dismissal. "Don't let your pride be wounded. It likely would have worked on another man, but I have studied the written language of our ancient king to some extent. You see he has placed his own cartouche there, signifying you are his servant, but you see that mark below?" Narrowing his brow, Rick looked and nodded. "It means 'great enemy' and I assume there is only one blue-eyed man he would label such. You are Rick O'Connell, are you not?"

Buttoning his shirt back, Rick nodded and scratched his cheek. "Yeah. The one and only. So what does this mean? You gonna kill me?"

"Oh, hardly…hardly, my friend." Jorin came to stand right above Rick, folding his hands behind his back. "I usually forbid my city to two types of people. Those of which Imhotep is greatly fond and those whom he hates. I have no wish to draw his attention, you see. I am a mere businessman, trying to get on in the world and he is much the same. Perhaps you are the same as well."

Rick grunted at that. "Okay, so you'll let me go, right?"

The other nodded his head, but there was something else behind those eyes that told Rick he was going to want something for his generosity. "I will let you go," Jorin said easily. "You have done nothing against me and being an enemy of Imhotep, I assume you will have no desire to disrupt my business. But I might have some work for you, if you're interested. You have evaded capture for nearly two years and by that mark I see you even escaped Imhotep. This tells me you know how not to get caught. Do you think you would be interested in working for me, Mr. O'Connell? I could pay you handsomely of course."

"I'll listen," Rick replied, crossing his arms. "What do you have in mind?"

He was scrutinized up and down as if this man wasn't entirely certain he wanted Rick for this so-called job, but in the end Jorin decided to gamble. "There is a rich man who rubs elbows with Imhotep. He lives in a great mansion to the north. He has a certain item that I want, a star-shaped golden key that I have interest in—as a man who studies ancient history. I want you to steal it for me. After that we can talk about other jobs I may give you, but for now this is all I require."

A star-shaped key. That rang familiar with Rick. In all the excitement of needing the Book of Amun Ra he had forgotten about the Key, having busted open the Black Book for Evy. Could this be the key Jorin was asking him to get? It had to be. "Say I agree to do this for you. How dangerous is it and why haven't you sent one of your lackeys after it? I'm not exactly inconspicuous up close, if you get me."

"No, you're not, Mr. O'Connell," Jorin agreed, fishing through his pocket and producing a key. He unlocked the door and motioned his prisoner out. "I've sent out men before, men who have never returned. My men don't desert me; they either complete their task or are killed. I can't send my own again because it would draw far too much curiosity to this area, but you…they would not question who you came from because they already know you."

"If I get caught it's no loss to you and it neatly takes care of an investigation," Rick concluded with a roll of his eyes as he followed Jorin down the short hall. "I want to know what happened to my friend who was with me," he said, looking the other over with the question in his eyes. If Jonathan had been killed Rick didn't know how he was going to respond.

Jorin shook his head and shrugged, then opened the door at the end of the hallway. Outside Rick could see a small office and a set of stairs leading up. "He got away as far as my men tell me. They lost him somewhere within the city itself, so he's around. Do you wish him to be protected?"

Rick frowned and rubbed at his shoulder as they ascended the stairs together. He could use a hot bath and a comfortable rest before taking off on some dangerous mission. Jorin looked like the type that could spare such luxuries. "I'd like him found to go with me, but if that's not possible I'll settle for his freedom of movement. I'd hate to come back and find out he's dead or rotting in some cell. You'd hate it too."

Laughing at the implied threat, Jorin clapped Rick on the shoulder. "I understand. Come and have dinner with me, Rick. I'll have my men double their efforts. If any harm comes to him I'll personally kill the man that does it. I will have a room prepared for him to stay in until you return." He smiled dangerously, his intent clearly conveyed. "So, will you do it, my friend?"

He didn't need to think about it. They would need the Key and Rick needed directions. The only problem would be in leaving without Jonathan. If Rick decided to fail to return with the Key then his friend's safety wouldn't stay guaranteed for long.

There wasn't much choice in the matter. Rick gave Jorin a sly smile and extended his hand, saying, "You got yourself a thief."

~~~~~~~

Disclaimer: No infringement intended. Ahamad, Nashean, Mayadeh, Sajul/Necromancer, Arya and Jorin (and a few other insignificant originals) belong to me.

A/N: Thanks to Lula for reading this beforehand and pointing out a few mistakes, which also prompted me into other tweaks that made this chapter better I think. :-O

To Reviewers:

Mommints – Where the crap are you!? More important, where the crap is more Heroes?! ;-) Just playin', friend. I had to make good on my promise.

Lula – Well, I just felt bad cause I don't wanna leave my friends out, ya know? I really appreciate my reviews very much so and would hate to make someone feel like I didn't. :-) Anyhow, I'm glad you liked Sania…she just sort of popped out of nowhere when I was writing that scene and searching my mind for something that Jonathan could do, some part he could play. :-) As for Ardeth and Evy…yeah. Well, anything for his safety, right? It would be hard to try and make someone hurt at you on purpose, but if it saves his life…so you're very right. Thanks, my friend. :-) And I look very forward to seeing the next chapter of Endless…it'll be great and EVERYONE should read! :-D

Marcher – Hehe, Evy's got quite a bit on her shoulders, huh? Poor girl…I'd just die if I had to let Ardeth go in such a painful way. I'd just die if I had Ardeth and had to let him go. ;-) Thank you very much for your compliments…I'm glad you enjoyed Jonny's friends and situation. I like to include everyone into the weave, so to speak. Can't leave my Jonnybears out!! And neither my Rickybug!

Lady Dragon – Oh yeah, Ardeth and Aragorn are quite alike…even in the first part of their names! They are both quite the pair and I'd kill to have the two of them in my household. ;-) Thanks for the review…things are quite distressed, huh? :-O

Catt – Thanks muchly! I try to include everyone from the first movies into the stories…though I'm not always successful in bringing Anck into my plots. Maybe if I ever write a prequel to this one, or some dream sequences. :-) I'm glad you're enjoying!

Marx – Thanks!! I'm glad you enjoyed that part…I enjoyed writing it. :-) Had to give Jonny a mission—to give Layla something to smile about! ;-) Yeah…she's got a shock coming up…wonder how she'll react. ;-) I'm glad you liked what I did with Evy's hatred towards Imhotep…I know that's what I'd be saying…even if he is the hottest thing since the Great Pyramid. ;-) "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you…leave me alone! Yet…I find you strangely attractive." I hope Hereafter is coming along well. :-)

Bunni – More Neccy? Here ya go! :-D Thanks…I'm so glad he's liked. He's pretty woven into my plans, so it's nice to see people go for him! :-) Thanks muchly!

Deana – Of course you abandoned Ardeth! He's crying, he's so hurt! ;-) Really, though…I know…I just wanna read moooore of your awesome story. Pwease??? :-D Thanks!

Dead-Girls-Watch – Thanks! And great chapter on Unfortunate!! :-) I look forward to more!