Here they are, the last two chapters! I want to thank everyone for
reading, and an extra special thanks to those who reviewed. . .whether it
was one time or for each chapter. The specific thanks will come at the end
of the epilogue, which will be the next chapter to be posted.
Part Twenty
It was time to bring this to a close, so Ardath returned control of their shared body back to Celia. Ardath hurt Khaldun, made him pay for what he did to her, to Rameses, to her own little Ardeth, and to her Miriam. Now it was Celia's turn, Celia who suffered at the hands of this man as well. Celia, whose brother was trapped inside Khaldun, and it was she who could ultimately free him.
Ardath wasn't sure of Celia's strategy at first. Until she learned from Anck, in a whisper in her mind, that Khaldun was engaged in another battle, on another level. And he lost. He lost to Ardeth, who avenged the kidnapping of little Miranda. That defeat made him more vulnerable, and in turn, he would be more careful. He would not be so quick to engage the woman. . .these women. And then, Ardath understood exactly what Celia was doing.
She was goading him, spitting out things that would have never occurred to Ardath. She never talked while she fought, not even to goad her opponent. But until today, she never found herself in a life or death situation such as this, either. And in the end, Celia's gamble paid off. Khaldun roared in fury, in frustration, and one other thing. Something Ardath understood very well. Yes. . .she did know the anguish of never being good enough.
He catapulted forward as Celia quietly drew her dagger. The dagger which she and Anck buried so long ago. . .the dagger. . . Ardath inhaled sharply. The dagger which once held her blood, when she and Anck used that same dagger to cut themselves as part of their vow as newly-made blood sisters. And with that understanding came another. Just as her love and Imhotep bound Khaldun all those years ago, Celia would now kill him, using a dagger that once tasted Ardath's blood. Full circle.
There was barely enough time for Ardath to process this, before Celia drove the dagger deep into Khaldun's body. She stepped closer to him, whispering, 'That was for Ardeth.' Khaldun gasped, and the concubine realized that he was still clinging to Jason Ferguson's body and soul. But Celia ended that a half second later, as she drove the knife up into his black heart, adding, 'That was for Jason.' She tore the knife from his body, drawing an anguished moan of pain from Khaldun, and finished, 'And that was for me.'
She stepped back and Khaldun fell to his knees, his eyes fixed solely on Celia, who stared back impassively. But inside, she was trembling with a combination of grief and rage. Inside, she was anything but impassive. And then, once more, Khaldun fell forward, his eyes going dead. His reign of terror ended, almost before it had a chance to begin. Almost. Many valiant Med-jai lost their lives to this man, but they were free now. They were all free.
It was over, at least for this lifetime, but one could only deal with one problem at a time. Ardath took several cleansing breaths, calming her racing heart. Or rather, calming Celia's racing heart. Her reincarnation knelt in the sand, her head bowed as her body shook. Ardath knew the reason for her trembling. It was always how she reacted after a fight was successfully done, and the danger passed.
Wait. What was that? Maybe it wasn't over after all, and unfortunately, both she and her reincarnation were running low on energy. Still, Ardath raised her head, sensing a shimmering around her. Someone from the Afterlife, or the Underworld, was coming to this world. Ardath reached down, her hand closing on the staff she was using only moments earlier. Nearby, O'Connell watched warily, ready to defend Ardath's child. About damn time, as the Americans said. But it wasn't necessary, for the figure coming through the portal was a friend, not an enemy.
Ardath released the staff and breathed, 'Anck.' The younger concubine sensed the other woman's presence several times during her battle with Khaldun. Her friend bowed her head, then held out her hand almost shyly to Ardath. The concubine rose to her feet and took Anck's hand. A half second after that, she found herself in a fierce embrace that took her breath away. Ardath wrapped her arms around Anck, drawing her head to rest on Ardath's shoulder, and tightened her embrace as Anck's tears soaked her, or rather, Celia's clothes.
'I am sorry, Ardath, I am so sorry! It was all my fault, I should have died, not you!' Anck wept. Ardath tightened her arms around her sister, saying nothing. She just held her, knowing that Anck blamed herself for Ardath's murder. But her friend merely gave her the goblet, she didn't poison the wine. For so long, Anck carried that guilt, but it was time for her to lay that burden down. Anck continued, 'I have done such terrible things, Ardath. I don't know how you can ever forgive me, how I can ever atone. . .'
'I can forgive you, Anck, because I love you. I struggled with your misdeeds, but in the end, the only thing that matters is that I love you. And you helped us. It was you who removed the illusion, allowing us to see Khaldun, was it not?' Ardath asked and Anck nodded her head against her shoulder. Ardath continued, 'you have already begun to atone, my sister. There is another whom you must ask forgiveness of, though.'
She hated saying it. Oh, how she hated saying that! She didn't believe Anck abandoned Imhotep, but Ardath knew Anck felt guilty nonetheless. The words had to be said, if her forever friend was to heal. Anck nodded, and Ardath continued with a proud look toward her child, who was just now beginning to regain consciousness, 'He brings honor to my name, does he not?' Anck pulled back, wiping away her tears with one hand, and responded with a reluctant smile.
But Ardath was nothing if not persistent, and she gave Anck a loving little shake, adding, 'Admit it, he is a worthy namesake, Anck. I know you have come to care for him.' Anck gave her a rueful smile that told her that she was right, and Anck didn't like to admit it. Ardath rolled her eyes. Honestly, Anck could be impossible sometimes! She gave Anck another little shake, and her sister's dark eyes flashed with mischief. Right before she poked Ardath in the sides. Ardath gave her friend a mock glare, and then she forgot to breathe.
Because standing where Khaldun had fallen was Rameses. It was time, then. Anck whispered, 'Go, my sister. I will look after them for you. You have waited three thousand years for this moment. Go. I love you.' Ardath hugged her sister fiercely. She didn't want to let go. Not just yet. Anck continued, 'Wait for me just a little while longer, my sister. I have unfinished business, but I promise I'll not be long. No more than thirty years.'
Oh, well, that was something totally different! Ardath waited thirty centuries to be reunited with her forever friend, thirty years would be nothing at all. And she found, the second that Anck rushed into her arms, that anger toward her friend no longer existed. In the end, Ardath DID love Anck, and when you love someone, you can forgive her almost anything. Forgiveness. As if hearing her thoughts, Anck released her, whispering, 'Go to him. Celia can break the hom-dai. I will be at her side.'
Rameses held out his hand to her, and Ardath whispered to Anck one last time, 'I love you.' She released her hold on Celia's body, whispering a good-bye to her reincarnation. Rameses took her hand and Ardath asked softly, 'Do you finally forgive yourself, my love? Do you finally understand that I forgave you a long time ago?' Rameses bowed his head, but a familiar smile played across his lips. Ardath snorted with no small amount of exasperation.
But she continued, 'Then let us go, my prince. Our love story has been told. Now it is time for another love story.' Rameses kissed her hand, then drew her into his arms. Oh how she loved this man! She loved him as a fifteen-year-old concubine, and she would love him again through the ages. The cycle that was Anck-su-namun and Imhotep was broken. In time, Imhotep would love again. But that was another story, for another time.
. . .
Celia fell slowly to the ground, feeling suddenly bereft. It was Ardath's departure, she knew. She could finally love her Rameses in peace. Still, there was the matter of picking up the pieces. Celia didn't know where to start. Ardath told her that Jason was free, but did that mean he was dead? She didn't know. She didn't want to believe he was. He was her little brother, and she realized after all the betrayal and all the grief, that it did mean something after all.
She buried her face in her hands, weeping quietly. Celia knew she had to get up, had to see to Ardeth, had to break the hom-dai. But she couldn't move. A hand touched her knee and a very familiar voice whispered, 'Don't cry, Ceil. Please don't cry. It's okay. I promise it's gonna be okay.' Celia lifted her face from her hands, to find her younger brother on his knees. Jason was weeping, and he whispered, 'Please forgive me, Celia.'
She couldn't make a noise, but she could move after all. She flung herself into Jason's arms, and it was just that easy. Things weren't fixed between the brother and sister, but Ardath was right. When you loved someone, you could forgive just about everything, and Jason apologized. Something he never did before. He backed down, but never apologized. Jason held her, whispering, 'C'mon, we got work to do, big sis.'
Celia laughed and allowed her brother to pull her to her feet, her knees feeling very unsteady. She ached all over, she was exhausted, but there was one more thing she needed to do before this was done. Celia said hoarsely, 'Grab the knife and clean the blood off it. Right before she left, Ardath told me how to break the hom-dai and burn out Ardeth's fever.' Jason moved to do as she asked, but found Anck carefully wiping off the blade. The woman quietly handed the dagger to Celia, who whispered, 'You have my thanks, Anck.'
'And you have mine, Celia. Imhotep. I cannot ask you to forgive me. I know not if it was my spirit or Meela's that sent me away from you. But I do know that I hurt you, Imhotep, and for that, I must atone,' Anck replied, turning her attention to her former lover. Celia looked away, mentally preparing herself for what came next. She didn't really want to do this, but a promise was a promise, and Ardath told her that her man was healed. Mostly.
"I do not know if I can forgive you. I do not know how. But perhaps I can learn," Imhotep answered as Celia slid a bit clumsily to her knees. She sighed and prepared herself for what she was about to do. Why this would work, Celia didn't know, Ardath didn't tell her that much. But the American was ready and willing to trust her previous incarnation. Imhotep ever so considerately left Ardeth's robes open, showing the wound.
Celia slid the dagger across the palm of her hand, then pressed the blade against Ardeth's wound, chanting, 'A warrior's dagger, dipped in a warrior's blood, guided by a warrior's hand. . . I burn thee out, this fire which would take a valiant warrior's life.' The spell, Ardath told her, would burn out Ardeth's fever. He wouldn't recover overnight, even with that aid, but his recovery wouldn't take quite as long. Besides, Imhotep couldn't heal Ardeth's broken ribs.
He groaned softly, his beautiful eyes clearing and focusing on her. Celia smiled and whispered, 'Welcome back, m'love. No, lay still, or I'll let Rick punch you again. And we both know how much he enjoyed it the first time. I bet he's been dying to do that forever.' Ardeth blinked, then his eyes narrowed, and Celia realized he would make O'Connell pay for that soon. She could see Rick agreed, just from the way he was glaring at her. She just smiled.
'Rest, Ardeth, there's something I need to do,' Celia added. She raised the knife, now smeared in her blood as well as Ardeth's, and motioned for Imhotep to give her his hand. He hesitated, but then thrust it toward her. She wasn't keen on this, but said, 'This blade holds the blood of Ardeth Bey, as well as my own. I give to you, my blood, and with our blood, I break the hom-dai, wrongly cast by Hamadi Bey, and I release the Med-jai from their own curse.'
With those words, she sliced open Imhotep's palm, and unbidden, the ancient words came to her, releasing Imhotep from being the Creature. Another voice chanted, and Celia vaguely recognized it as Anatol Bey's. The cut on Imhotep's hand shone silver for a moment, and then healed. Celia smiled faintly, saying, 'I cannot take away your immortality, Imhotep, only the curse. But you *are* free.' Imhotep stared at the cut, then at her.
'You have my thanks, little queen,' he whispered. Imhotep shook his head slowly, murmuring, 'For so long, I have been the Creature, He Who Shall Not Be Named. I do not know what to do now.' Celia started to answer, but she heard something. For a brief moment, Ardath once more allowed her to see through her eyes, a final gift, and she saw Anck pushing down the lever which would once more place Hamunaptra under the ground. Trapping Khaldun.
Celia looked at Rick O'Connell, who returned the stare. As hazel eyes locked with blue, and dust rained from the ceiling, the two Americans said in unison, 'Time to go!' Jason helped Celia to her feet, and Miranda flung herself out of Jonathan's arms, as if released from a spell. Celia caught her daughter in a fierce embrace, while Jonathan helped Rick with Ardeth. Evy grabbed Alex, and they dashed out of Hamunaptra, with Imhotep and Anatol bringing up the rear. She did not look back at the City of the Dead until they were all clear.
And then, she looked behind her, to see her forever friend watching her. By all rights, she shouldn't have been there at all. She shouldn't have seen Anck's long black hair blowing in the desert air. But she was and she did. Anck raised her hand in farewell, a tiny smile gracing her lips. Celia was vaguely aware of a presence at her side. When she looked up, she was somewhat surprised to see Imhotep at her side.
He could have remained behind, and died inside Hamunaptra. He was free now. But he chose to live, and followed them from the City. Brown eyes met hazel, and for the first time in ages, a mortal saw fear in Imhotep's eyes. Not only saw that fear, but lived to tell about it. If she chose to tell, which she would not. A gentle hand on her shoulder drew her attention to the plane that brought them here and Celia wondered what Ardeth said to the pilot to get him to stay.
She looked into the bright and concerned blue eyes of Rick O'Connell, as he said very softly, "We have to go, now." Celia nodded her understanding, and she did understand. When she was a child, she heard one of her grandmother's friends say something that echoed in her mind through the years. //Let the dead bury their dead, for the living require us now.// Celia was relatively certain that it was a Bible verse, but she couldn't have said for sure.
It was appropriate, however. With one last glance toward the necropolis, Celia allowed herself to be steered toward the plane and Ardeth. She allowed Rick to hand her daughter into Izzy's waiting arms, and smiled at Miranda's questions. The very young were so very resilient. After everything she went through today, Miranda was already asking Izzy about everything under the sun. And bless him for his patience, though she knew he was itching to go.
Yes. Let the dead bury the dead. She had her daughter and a stubborn Med- jai chieftain to tend to. Rick put his hands on her waist, lifting her into the plane, even as Miranda pulled her to the back, where Ardeth lay. It was time for a new story to begin.
Part Twenty
It was time to bring this to a close, so Ardath returned control of their shared body back to Celia. Ardath hurt Khaldun, made him pay for what he did to her, to Rameses, to her own little Ardeth, and to her Miriam. Now it was Celia's turn, Celia who suffered at the hands of this man as well. Celia, whose brother was trapped inside Khaldun, and it was she who could ultimately free him.
Ardath wasn't sure of Celia's strategy at first. Until she learned from Anck, in a whisper in her mind, that Khaldun was engaged in another battle, on another level. And he lost. He lost to Ardeth, who avenged the kidnapping of little Miranda. That defeat made him more vulnerable, and in turn, he would be more careful. He would not be so quick to engage the woman. . .these women. And then, Ardath understood exactly what Celia was doing.
She was goading him, spitting out things that would have never occurred to Ardath. She never talked while she fought, not even to goad her opponent. But until today, she never found herself in a life or death situation such as this, either. And in the end, Celia's gamble paid off. Khaldun roared in fury, in frustration, and one other thing. Something Ardath understood very well. Yes. . .she did know the anguish of never being good enough.
He catapulted forward as Celia quietly drew her dagger. The dagger which she and Anck buried so long ago. . .the dagger. . . Ardath inhaled sharply. The dagger which once held her blood, when she and Anck used that same dagger to cut themselves as part of their vow as newly-made blood sisters. And with that understanding came another. Just as her love and Imhotep bound Khaldun all those years ago, Celia would now kill him, using a dagger that once tasted Ardath's blood. Full circle.
There was barely enough time for Ardath to process this, before Celia drove the dagger deep into Khaldun's body. She stepped closer to him, whispering, 'That was for Ardeth.' Khaldun gasped, and the concubine realized that he was still clinging to Jason Ferguson's body and soul. But Celia ended that a half second later, as she drove the knife up into his black heart, adding, 'That was for Jason.' She tore the knife from his body, drawing an anguished moan of pain from Khaldun, and finished, 'And that was for me.'
She stepped back and Khaldun fell to his knees, his eyes fixed solely on Celia, who stared back impassively. But inside, she was trembling with a combination of grief and rage. Inside, she was anything but impassive. And then, once more, Khaldun fell forward, his eyes going dead. His reign of terror ended, almost before it had a chance to begin. Almost. Many valiant Med-jai lost their lives to this man, but they were free now. They were all free.
It was over, at least for this lifetime, but one could only deal with one problem at a time. Ardath took several cleansing breaths, calming her racing heart. Or rather, calming Celia's racing heart. Her reincarnation knelt in the sand, her head bowed as her body shook. Ardath knew the reason for her trembling. It was always how she reacted after a fight was successfully done, and the danger passed.
Wait. What was that? Maybe it wasn't over after all, and unfortunately, both she and her reincarnation were running low on energy. Still, Ardath raised her head, sensing a shimmering around her. Someone from the Afterlife, or the Underworld, was coming to this world. Ardath reached down, her hand closing on the staff she was using only moments earlier. Nearby, O'Connell watched warily, ready to defend Ardath's child. About damn time, as the Americans said. But it wasn't necessary, for the figure coming through the portal was a friend, not an enemy.
Ardath released the staff and breathed, 'Anck.' The younger concubine sensed the other woman's presence several times during her battle with Khaldun. Her friend bowed her head, then held out her hand almost shyly to Ardath. The concubine rose to her feet and took Anck's hand. A half second after that, she found herself in a fierce embrace that took her breath away. Ardath wrapped her arms around Anck, drawing her head to rest on Ardath's shoulder, and tightened her embrace as Anck's tears soaked her, or rather, Celia's clothes.
'I am sorry, Ardath, I am so sorry! It was all my fault, I should have died, not you!' Anck wept. Ardath tightened her arms around her sister, saying nothing. She just held her, knowing that Anck blamed herself for Ardath's murder. But her friend merely gave her the goblet, she didn't poison the wine. For so long, Anck carried that guilt, but it was time for her to lay that burden down. Anck continued, 'I have done such terrible things, Ardath. I don't know how you can ever forgive me, how I can ever atone. . .'
'I can forgive you, Anck, because I love you. I struggled with your misdeeds, but in the end, the only thing that matters is that I love you. And you helped us. It was you who removed the illusion, allowing us to see Khaldun, was it not?' Ardath asked and Anck nodded her head against her shoulder. Ardath continued, 'you have already begun to atone, my sister. There is another whom you must ask forgiveness of, though.'
She hated saying it. Oh, how she hated saying that! She didn't believe Anck abandoned Imhotep, but Ardath knew Anck felt guilty nonetheless. The words had to be said, if her forever friend was to heal. Anck nodded, and Ardath continued with a proud look toward her child, who was just now beginning to regain consciousness, 'He brings honor to my name, does he not?' Anck pulled back, wiping away her tears with one hand, and responded with a reluctant smile.
But Ardath was nothing if not persistent, and she gave Anck a loving little shake, adding, 'Admit it, he is a worthy namesake, Anck. I know you have come to care for him.' Anck gave her a rueful smile that told her that she was right, and Anck didn't like to admit it. Ardath rolled her eyes. Honestly, Anck could be impossible sometimes! She gave Anck another little shake, and her sister's dark eyes flashed with mischief. Right before she poked Ardath in the sides. Ardath gave her friend a mock glare, and then she forgot to breathe.
Because standing where Khaldun had fallen was Rameses. It was time, then. Anck whispered, 'Go, my sister. I will look after them for you. You have waited three thousand years for this moment. Go. I love you.' Ardath hugged her sister fiercely. She didn't want to let go. Not just yet. Anck continued, 'Wait for me just a little while longer, my sister. I have unfinished business, but I promise I'll not be long. No more than thirty years.'
Oh, well, that was something totally different! Ardath waited thirty centuries to be reunited with her forever friend, thirty years would be nothing at all. And she found, the second that Anck rushed into her arms, that anger toward her friend no longer existed. In the end, Ardath DID love Anck, and when you love someone, you can forgive her almost anything. Forgiveness. As if hearing her thoughts, Anck released her, whispering, 'Go to him. Celia can break the hom-dai. I will be at her side.'
Rameses held out his hand to her, and Ardath whispered to Anck one last time, 'I love you.' She released her hold on Celia's body, whispering a good-bye to her reincarnation. Rameses took her hand and Ardath asked softly, 'Do you finally forgive yourself, my love? Do you finally understand that I forgave you a long time ago?' Rameses bowed his head, but a familiar smile played across his lips. Ardath snorted with no small amount of exasperation.
But she continued, 'Then let us go, my prince. Our love story has been told. Now it is time for another love story.' Rameses kissed her hand, then drew her into his arms. Oh how she loved this man! She loved him as a fifteen-year-old concubine, and she would love him again through the ages. The cycle that was Anck-su-namun and Imhotep was broken. In time, Imhotep would love again. But that was another story, for another time.
. . .
Celia fell slowly to the ground, feeling suddenly bereft. It was Ardath's departure, she knew. She could finally love her Rameses in peace. Still, there was the matter of picking up the pieces. Celia didn't know where to start. Ardath told her that Jason was free, but did that mean he was dead? She didn't know. She didn't want to believe he was. He was her little brother, and she realized after all the betrayal and all the grief, that it did mean something after all.
She buried her face in her hands, weeping quietly. Celia knew she had to get up, had to see to Ardeth, had to break the hom-dai. But she couldn't move. A hand touched her knee and a very familiar voice whispered, 'Don't cry, Ceil. Please don't cry. It's okay. I promise it's gonna be okay.' Celia lifted her face from her hands, to find her younger brother on his knees. Jason was weeping, and he whispered, 'Please forgive me, Celia.'
She couldn't make a noise, but she could move after all. She flung herself into Jason's arms, and it was just that easy. Things weren't fixed between the brother and sister, but Ardath was right. When you loved someone, you could forgive just about everything, and Jason apologized. Something he never did before. He backed down, but never apologized. Jason held her, whispering, 'C'mon, we got work to do, big sis.'
Celia laughed and allowed her brother to pull her to her feet, her knees feeling very unsteady. She ached all over, she was exhausted, but there was one more thing she needed to do before this was done. Celia said hoarsely, 'Grab the knife and clean the blood off it. Right before she left, Ardath told me how to break the hom-dai and burn out Ardeth's fever.' Jason moved to do as she asked, but found Anck carefully wiping off the blade. The woman quietly handed the dagger to Celia, who whispered, 'You have my thanks, Anck.'
'And you have mine, Celia. Imhotep. I cannot ask you to forgive me. I know not if it was my spirit or Meela's that sent me away from you. But I do know that I hurt you, Imhotep, and for that, I must atone,' Anck replied, turning her attention to her former lover. Celia looked away, mentally preparing herself for what came next. She didn't really want to do this, but a promise was a promise, and Ardath told her that her man was healed. Mostly.
"I do not know if I can forgive you. I do not know how. But perhaps I can learn," Imhotep answered as Celia slid a bit clumsily to her knees. She sighed and prepared herself for what she was about to do. Why this would work, Celia didn't know, Ardath didn't tell her that much. But the American was ready and willing to trust her previous incarnation. Imhotep ever so considerately left Ardeth's robes open, showing the wound.
Celia slid the dagger across the palm of her hand, then pressed the blade against Ardeth's wound, chanting, 'A warrior's dagger, dipped in a warrior's blood, guided by a warrior's hand. . . I burn thee out, this fire which would take a valiant warrior's life.' The spell, Ardath told her, would burn out Ardeth's fever. He wouldn't recover overnight, even with that aid, but his recovery wouldn't take quite as long. Besides, Imhotep couldn't heal Ardeth's broken ribs.
He groaned softly, his beautiful eyes clearing and focusing on her. Celia smiled and whispered, 'Welcome back, m'love. No, lay still, or I'll let Rick punch you again. And we both know how much he enjoyed it the first time. I bet he's been dying to do that forever.' Ardeth blinked, then his eyes narrowed, and Celia realized he would make O'Connell pay for that soon. She could see Rick agreed, just from the way he was glaring at her. She just smiled.
'Rest, Ardeth, there's something I need to do,' Celia added. She raised the knife, now smeared in her blood as well as Ardeth's, and motioned for Imhotep to give her his hand. He hesitated, but then thrust it toward her. She wasn't keen on this, but said, 'This blade holds the blood of Ardeth Bey, as well as my own. I give to you, my blood, and with our blood, I break the hom-dai, wrongly cast by Hamadi Bey, and I release the Med-jai from their own curse.'
With those words, she sliced open Imhotep's palm, and unbidden, the ancient words came to her, releasing Imhotep from being the Creature. Another voice chanted, and Celia vaguely recognized it as Anatol Bey's. The cut on Imhotep's hand shone silver for a moment, and then healed. Celia smiled faintly, saying, 'I cannot take away your immortality, Imhotep, only the curse. But you *are* free.' Imhotep stared at the cut, then at her.
'You have my thanks, little queen,' he whispered. Imhotep shook his head slowly, murmuring, 'For so long, I have been the Creature, He Who Shall Not Be Named. I do not know what to do now.' Celia started to answer, but she heard something. For a brief moment, Ardath once more allowed her to see through her eyes, a final gift, and she saw Anck pushing down the lever which would once more place Hamunaptra under the ground. Trapping Khaldun.
Celia looked at Rick O'Connell, who returned the stare. As hazel eyes locked with blue, and dust rained from the ceiling, the two Americans said in unison, 'Time to go!' Jason helped Celia to her feet, and Miranda flung herself out of Jonathan's arms, as if released from a spell. Celia caught her daughter in a fierce embrace, while Jonathan helped Rick with Ardeth. Evy grabbed Alex, and they dashed out of Hamunaptra, with Imhotep and Anatol bringing up the rear. She did not look back at the City of the Dead until they were all clear.
And then, she looked behind her, to see her forever friend watching her. By all rights, she shouldn't have been there at all. She shouldn't have seen Anck's long black hair blowing in the desert air. But she was and she did. Anck raised her hand in farewell, a tiny smile gracing her lips. Celia was vaguely aware of a presence at her side. When she looked up, she was somewhat surprised to see Imhotep at her side.
He could have remained behind, and died inside Hamunaptra. He was free now. But he chose to live, and followed them from the City. Brown eyes met hazel, and for the first time in ages, a mortal saw fear in Imhotep's eyes. Not only saw that fear, but lived to tell about it. If she chose to tell, which she would not. A gentle hand on her shoulder drew her attention to the plane that brought them here and Celia wondered what Ardeth said to the pilot to get him to stay.
She looked into the bright and concerned blue eyes of Rick O'Connell, as he said very softly, "We have to go, now." Celia nodded her understanding, and she did understand. When she was a child, she heard one of her grandmother's friends say something that echoed in her mind through the years. //Let the dead bury their dead, for the living require us now.// Celia was relatively certain that it was a Bible verse, but she couldn't have said for sure.
It was appropriate, however. With one last glance toward the necropolis, Celia allowed herself to be steered toward the plane and Ardeth. She allowed Rick to hand her daughter into Izzy's waiting arms, and smiled at Miranda's questions. The very young were so very resilient. After everything she went through today, Miranda was already asking Izzy about everything under the sun. And bless him for his patience, though she knew he was itching to go.
Yes. Let the dead bury the dead. She had her daughter and a stubborn Med- jai chieftain to tend to. Rick put his hands on her waist, lifting her into the plane, even as Miranda pulled her to the back, where Ardeth lay. It was time for a new story to begin.