This is a work of Fiction. The characters of the Mummies Alive are the Property of DIC international. The character of Lyris belongs to the Goddess Mia, which I use with great joy. I hope to do her better honor in this second chapter of my Rath of Two Princess Saga. Princess Kara and Princess Mennehotep are my own creations. Their feud is my own story-line.
I do this for fun. If you wish to use Kara and Mennehotep in your stories, feel free. But give credit where credit is due.
The Rath of Two Princesses, Part III or "The Chemistry of Ancient Knowledge" as told by Princess Mennehotep...
By Trynia Merin
Beneath the stars in ancient Egypt, the serving women were searching for someone. Haughtily, Princess Kara regarded them. "Hove you found her yet?" she asked, impatient.
"N-not yet your highness," stammered Memnet, fingering her braided hair nervously. Like many of the ladies in waiting, she wore the simple white skirt and sandals.
Quite in contrast to Princess Kara, whose lovely golden snake tiara crowned the height of her long mass of shiny black hair. Green eyes peeked out from their surrounding of Kohl and other paints. Already she had dressed in her elaborate gold gauze gown and semicircular collar worked with lapis lazuli.
Smoke poured from a small inner chamber, and Memnet knew where the Princess was. "Go fetch her at once," commanded the elder sister.
Memnet rushed into the room. Ordinarily Memnet could see the shelves lined with gourds and glass vials full of Mennehotep's concoctions. Strange powders and elixirs lay in silver dishes. For Mennehotep knew the secrets of Magic and Alchemy. The smoke dissipated, revealing a woman who looked much like Kara. "My lady, your sister awaits..."
"Just another bit of time," said Mennehotep. "And my elixir will be finished." Unrolling a scroll, she poured over its papyrus surface. "The great Scribe didn't find the answer, but I think I have it..."
"Please, your Glory!" begged Memnet, clutching her oil lamp. "If I don't fetch you within the hour, I will be flogged severely."
Mennehotep broke out of her musing. "I am sorry, Memnet. I lost track of time. What hour is it?"
"The stars are out, lady. And the procession will be forming once Isis is in sight..." Memnet stammered, even more frightened.
"Wait, what's that mark on your shoulder."
"Nothing my lady," gasped Memnet, as Mennehotep grabbed her arm. "Please, time is short."
"They burned you..." gasped Mennehotep. "Here, let me help."
Chanting, she smeared some ointment onto the burn. Within seconds the color faded to the normal olive of Memnet's skin. "My lady, this is a wonder..."
"I must tell Kara about my discovery," said Mennehotep. "This paste that cures burns is a marvel... to any..."
"Not that, this," said the younger sister, holding up a vial.
The woman in question stormed in the small chamber. Her green eyes stared daggers at Memnet, who promptly fled in terror. "Why are you keeping our Pharaoh waiting," she said softly.
"My sister, I have discovered a miracle..."
"Like your vain attempts to turn lead into gold?" sniffed Kara.
"No. Watch." Mennehotep drained half the vial. There was a second, then a lovely glow shone into her skin, and her hair was glossy, even though it had not been brushed.
"What..." gasped Kara, grabbing it.
"It's the elixir of youth," said Mennehotep. "And I give it to you, so you will win any man's heart..."
"Would that I wanted it so," muttered Kara. But her eyes gleamed with joy at the prospect. "Well done, my sister. I should leave you to your scrolls more often."
"Great is the power of Rath," she said, raising her hands in homage.
"My sister, there are powers greater still," smiled Kara, laying an arm on her sister's back. "And in this ritual tonight, you are to join with mighty Osiris' spirit himself..."
"I am ready to play the part of Isis," she sighed, and let Kara lead her towards the baths.
Now 3000 years later the same princess now peered out over the wide shimmering San Francisco Bay. Already dawn had given way to the morning rays of Ra.
She turned away from the window, and crossed over to a table laden with poultices and potions. Presely Carnavon was beginning to think that it was Rath's chamber he was in, and not the Princess Alchemist's.
It was Lyris' idea. That she should have a chamber of her own, being royalty. Menne had protested, but gave in when Ja-Kal reminded her of her position.
Now she glanced over a series of papyrus scrolls laid out on the table before her. Puzzled looks crossed her brow as she deciphered the ancient recipes.
"What exactly are you making?" Presley asked. Despite the fact he hated Chemistry, this mummy made it look interesting.
"More powders for defense, oh exhaulted ancestor."
"I wish you wouldn't call me that. I'm only a kid..."
"But you are 100 years before my time... and I think you'd qualify as my great uncle or such..."
Presley sighed. "So what's this potion for?"
"A healing salve, to restore the flesh should it be burned."
"Cool. You'd probably make a killing selling that today..."
"Speaking of today, I always wanted to see the great Library you say you have," said Mennehotep, to the Prince.
"Sheesh, you and Rath have that in common," muttered the Prince.
"To expand your knowledge is never a waste of time, Exalted ancestor," she said, confused at his sullen nature. "After all, he did promise to take me to the library today."
"Yeah, but you don't have a book report due tomorrow," grumbled Presley. "Or 100 overdue books on your card."
"Let me guess," smiled the Princess. "Rath?"
"Yeah," grumbled Presley.
"I think we need to have a little talk with our scribe," said she, with a look of amusement in her onyx eyes.
"I've tried, believe me, Minnie," he sighed. "But Rath can really be a..."
"Self opinionated pain in the butt?" finished Mennehotep. "At least that's what Nefer-Tina says about him."
"Oh, yeah," said Presley, blushing. "What the heck do you see in him, Minnie?"
"Aren't you a bit young to ask those questions, my Prince?"
"Aw, come on, Princess," he snorted. "My mom gave me the birds and bees lecture last year!"
"Birds and Bees?" asked Mennehotep.
"You know, the Talk..." said Presley, as Ja-Kal walked in.
"There you are, my Prince," he said. "Shouldn't you be in the Library?"
"Ah, Ja-Kal, not you too!" snorted Presley, stamping one foot.
"I told him I would take him," said Mennehotep.
"Are you comfortable ferrying the Prince without Protection, your Majesty?" asked Ja-Kal. "Scarab has been hiding in waiting, like a cobra ready to strike."
"I do have my ways of protecting my own ancestry," she smiled, patting Presley's shoulder. "And Rath is taking us both there..."
"Good," nodded Ja-Kal approvingly.
"And Rapses, I promise I won't bother you any longer about your papyrus... I mean book report..."
"Great," said Presley, brightening up.
"And I will convince Rath to return his, or your library books," she added.
"He compared Scarab to a cobra?" snorted Rath, from behind a pillar. "Of all the idiotic insults to such a noble animal!"
"Isn't eavesdropping a bit below a mighty scribe?" asked a soft voice beside him.
"Not beneath a Bard either," said Rath, eyeing Lyris next to him.
"Touche," she laughed. "But really, you shouldn't be eavesdropping on the Princess. After all, aren't you the one who has appointed yourself as her protector?"
"She said she wanted to ask me about books regarding this new science called 'chemistry', " said Rath. "And I've been here an hour while she was conversing with the young prince.
"And you couldn't wait to see her..." said Lyris, eyeing him with those turquoise eyes that knew him so well.
Rath coughed, and turned a decided shade of purple. "What can I say?" he said to Lyris, folding his arms over his chest. "She is rather attractive... in a mummified sort of way..."
"And smart, and well bred," added Lyris. "And she idolizes your writings..."
"Can I help it if I have... what does Presley call it... a fan club?"
"But you don't have the guts to tell her how you really feel about her," said Lyris. "Or anyone else who cares about you either. When are you going to let anyone get close enough to..."
"Now look here, this is none of your business," snapped Rath, but both were cut short when Ja-Kal exited the chamber.
"Rath?" he said, suspiciously as he noted the Scribe. "And just what are you doing out here in the hall way?"
"Ja-Kal," returned Rath, still rather uncomfortable. "I... was just waiting for her Majesty to get ready to go to the library..."
"He was waiting, is all that can be said," said Lyris, glancing at him, her arms folded across her chest, much like the Scribe stood. "He of all people should know about privacy..."
"Stop it this instant, you two," sighed Ja-Kal. "Ever since we have seen no sight of Scarab or Kara, we've been at each other's throats."
"He's right, Rath," said Lyris. "We've gotten in each other's ways, like Odysseus' men on the voyage..."
"What?"
"It happens when people are in an enclosed space with each other for too long. They start to snap at each other, and generally drive each other to madness. And its been weeks since our battle with Princess Kara..."
"I am sorry I raised my voice at you, Lyris," he apologized, bowing to her. "I suppose I have been rather tetchy lately."
"That only begins to describe it," said Ja-Kal. "But we will discuss this later."
"What's the party, guys?" asked Presley, coming out of Mennehotep's chamber.
"I did wonder why there were so many outside my door," said Menne, glancing suspiciously at Rath and Lyris.
"Are you ready to visit the library? They have many books there on the subject called Chemistry..." began Rath, before Lyris thumped his shoulder. "I mean.... I..."
"Thank you Rath," she smiled, taking the book from him. "But that reminds me. You haven't been returning your books that you checked out on our Prince's card..."
"Oh, dear..." groaned Rath, turning a decided shade of purple. "I did forget... Do forgive me, your Majesty."
"Look Rath, don't freak," said Presley. "If you bring them back today, they're not gonna slap me with that replacement charge..."
"How many books do you owe?" asked Lyris, of Rath.
"Er, I seem to have lost count."
"Rath," said Ja-Kal sternly. "I think you'd better see just how many. And return them at once."
"Very well," sighed Rath, guilt in his green eyes. "I suppose there will be some delay in getting to the library..."
Beneath the stars in ancient Egypt, the serving women were searching for someone. Haughtily, Princess Kara regarded them. "Hove you found her yet?" she asked, impatient.
"N-not yet your highness," stammered Memnet, fingering her braided hair nervously. Like many of the ladies in waiting, she wore a simple white skirt and small thin sandals. Encircling her arm was the slave armlet, with its tag of ownership. She'd wear it for the rest of her life.
Quite in contrast to Princess Kara, whose lovely golden snake tiara crowned the height of her long mass of shiny black hair. Green eyes peeked out from their surrounding of Kohl and other paints. Already she had dressed in her elaborate gold gauze gown and semicircular collar worked with lapis lazuli.
Smoke poured from a small inner chamber, and Memnet knew where the Princess was. "Go fetch her at once," commanded the elder sister.
Memnet rushed into the room. Ordinarily Memnet could see the shelves lined with gourds and glass vials full of Mennehotep's concoctions. Strange powders and elixirs lay in silver dishes. For Mennehotep knew the secrets of Magic and Alchemy. The smoke dissipated, revealing a woman who looked much like Kara. "My lady, your sister awaits..."
"Just another bit of time," said Mennehotep. "And my elixir will be finished." Unrolling a scroll, she poured over its papyrus surface. "The great Scribe didn't find the answer, but I think I have it..."
"The answer to what my lady?" asked Memnet, trying to humor her mistress. Perhaps if she was momentarily placated, she would more willingly come.
"An ancient quest. The quest for immortality. A quest from which Gilgamish came empty handed to the gates of his city."
"But my lady, when you join your mother in the sky you will be immortal."
"Ah, but think of immortality, and how the suffering dead could be brought back to live their lives to the fullest. For in the roots of the immortality elixir are the basis for a salve that could cure any ailment with but one sip. Few have found the actual formula. But it was said that it was known to the people of Mu..."
"Please, your Glory!" begged Memnet, clutching her oil lamp. "If I don't fetch you within the hour, I will be flogged severely."
Mennehotep broke out of her musing. "I am sorry, Memnet. I lost track of time. What hour is it?"
"The stars are out, lady. And the procession will be forming once Isis is in sight..." Memnet stammered, even more frightened.
"Wait, what's that mark on your shoulder."
"Nothing my lady," gasped Memnet, as Mennehotep grabbed her arm. "Please, time is short."
"They burned you..." gasped Mennehotep.
"I dropped the torch... and it fell..." protested Memnet. "It was an accident... Do not concern yourself."
"Here, let me help."
Chanting, she smeared some ointment onto the burn. Within seconds the color faded to the normal olive of Memnet's skin. "My lady, this is a wonder..."
"I must tell Kara about my discovery," said Mennehotep.
"This paste that cures burns is a marvel... to any..."
"Not that, this," said the younger sister, holding up a vial.
The woman in question stormed in the small chamber. Her green eyes stared daggers at Memnet, who promptly fled in terror. "Why are you keeping our Pharaoh waiting," she said softly.
"My sister, I have discovered a miracle..."
"Like your vain attempts to turn lead into gold?" sniffed Kara.
"No. Watch." Mennehotep drained half the vial. There was a second, then a lovely glow shone into her skin, and her hair was glossy, even though it had not been brushed.
"What..." gasped Kara, grabbing it.
"It's the elixir of youth," said Mennehotep. "And I give it to you, so you will win any man's heart..."
"Would that I wanted it so," muttered Kara. But her eyes gleamed with joy at the prospect. "Well done, my sister. I should leave you to your scrolls more often."
"Great is the power of Rath," she said, raising her hands in homage.
"My sister, there are powers greater still," smiled Kara, laying an arm on her sister's back. "And in this ritual tonight, you are to join with mighty Osiris' spirit himself..."
"I am ready to play the part of Isis," she sighed, and let Kara lead her towards the baths.
"For you and I will join our Prince within the year, and become one with his dynasty. This is but a rehearsal for what glorious destinies await you..."
"Honestly, Rath," laughed Nefer-Tina as he sullenly stacked his books on the floor. "How could you of all people forget to do something?"
"They are very fascinating volumes," he said defensively. "And may I remind you of how useful written knowledge is?"
"But if the Young Prince has too many overdue books, don't ya think that makes him kinda stand out?"
"I didn't really think..."
"And also too, that he's even checking out so many books at one time?" asked Nefer-Tina. "That alone is weird for a twelve year old boy..."
"His mother seems happy about the situation," sniffed Rath, picking up one volume of Egyptian history. "In her mind, her son is applying himself to his studies well."
"In her mind?" laughed Nefer-Tina. "You mean in her dreams."
"If I am to instruct the young Prince, I must know what he learns in that school of his," said Rath, stacking another book on an already precarious vertical pile. Crash! All the books tumbled to the floor in an avalanche.
"Ho man, who let the library loose?" asked Presley, standing at the door. Next to him stood Mennehotep, hands on her hips. Lyris also bracketed the Prince, trying to hide a huge grin that had painted itself there on her face.
"I was... just getting my... I mean your overdue books together," said Rath, poking his head from beneath a mountain of books.
"Thanks a lot man," said Presley. "How the heck am I supposed to get all those on a bus?"
"I could cruise you up there in the Hot-Ra," said Nefer-Tina, pushing some other books aside.
"Now you're talking," said Presley. "Go get Armon. He can take these..."
Downtown San-Francisco coursed with midday traffic. Mennehotep, Lyris, and the Prince leapt off a trolley car, in front of a huge building. "My goodness, this is truly a temple of knowledge..." said Mennehotep, glancing upwards.
"Yeah. Welcome to the Public Library," said Presley.
"A pity Rath could not join us on the chariot," said Mennehotep.
"He should be around here somewhere..." said Lyris. "Didn't you say the book drop was in the rear of the temple... I mean library?"
Mennehotep pulled her jacket around her shoulders. The abbreviated business suit with its knee length skirt and white long sleeve blouse looked highly attractive on the Princess. "I must thank your Mother for her contribution to my disguise," said the Princess to Rapses, as they strode up the steps to the main entrance.
"No Prob. Just make sure you give them back to me before Mom picks up her dry cleaning on Friday," said Presley.
"I don't feel comfortable in this raiment," she sighed. "How do women of this time stand the feeling of the wind on their legs?"
"You look great," said Presley. "Trust me. No one will know you're a mummy."
"Especially with the special cosmetics you made for Nefer-Tina and me," said Lyris, appreciatively running a hand through auburn hair. "This dye is lasting forever..."
"There is no reason for it not to," said Mennehotep as they walked in through the grand doors. "That same formula I have made many times. And the stockings conceal our bandages without us having to unwrap..."
"Excuse me, but I've gotta get to the history sections..." said Presley, slipping away.
"Where should we meet you?" Lyris asked.
"Main desk. Under the clock," came his voice as he rushed away from the 'girl talk'.
"Where do I start," sighed the Princess, as she glanced around the grand gallery.
"How about the sciences?" asked Lyris. "I'm going to the classics section. To catch up on the ballads of this time..."
"I thank you for your kindness and help, good Muse," said Mennehotep, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Well have you instructed me on the customs of this new time."
"If it gets overwhelming, just smile patiently," said Lyris, heading off in the direction of the novels. "And above all else, be quiet in the library..."
A chorus of hissing ensued at her shouted comment. Mennehotep grabbed a book from a shelf and pretended to look at it. The strange scrawls were still Greek to her. "Now what was that spell of Comprehension that Rath taught me?" she murmured.
"Ah, I know," she laughed, when she suddenly remembered. In low tones she recited: Tongue of tongue, new tongue of this time
Give me the grasp of this new find.
Unlock the secrets behind foreign scribbles,
so that I might solve these new riddles...."
Instantly the symbols made more sense. The spoken language wasn't much of a problem. She had a natural ease for languages, that the Muse had assisted her with that part. And the talismans that Rath possessed gave her a rudimentary translation that first few days she'd been awake. But the customs were alien, and the ideas and paradigms of their science and technology were worlds different. Yet her analytical mind learned this new Science quickly, as quickly as she could learn a new spell or recipe for a formula.
She glanced over the Chemistry book. On one page were hieroglyphs of another sort. "Chemical equations can be written using the symbols of the naturally occurring 92 elements..."
Puzzlement crept over her features. 92 elements? There were only 4. But still she read on, chapter after chapter. At last she came to a foldout page. A strange series of boxes were filled with letter symbols in odd rows. There were jagged gaps in the rows, that didn't make sense. If she read the counting right, they were in order. But what was the meaning behind these uneven rows?
"What is this Periodic table, anyway?" she huffed, struggling for understanding.
"Some may wonder that, ma'am," said a voice. Menne jumped. The speaker pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and regarded her. It was Presley's science teacher.
"It has been constantly changed each time they find a new element."
"Oh, I am sorry to disturb you," she said, almost dropping the book.
"I like it when people question Science," he said. "You ask more questions than my students do."
"So science is about asking questions?" said she.
"That's the heart of it, ma'am. The scientific method. Formulate your hypothesis, research the information. Design an experiment, and see if the results match your hypothesis. If they don't, then change the hypothesis."
"Very unusual," she smiled. "I like that Science..."
"So do I. I teach science."
"I know. I mean... I've seen you at the school..."
"Is one of your children a student there..."
"Er, no. I... know one of the mothers of the students... I... I was just visiting her...."
"You look familiar," he said.
"How so?" she asked, feeling a bit flush.
"Like as if I had seen your picture in a magazine..."
"Excuse me sir, but I really am very busy,"
"I'm sorry, ma'am," he apologized. "Social skills aren't my specialty. I didn't let you tell me your name."
"Nor mine," she laughed, shaking his hand. "I mean my name... is... er... Minnie... er..." Anxiously her eyes darted down the page of the science book for a name. Any name. "Er, Minnie Rutherford," she completed. "That's my name."
"Hm. That's unusual," he said.
"I... er changed it for immigration reasons," she said.
"Where are you from..."
"Egypt," she said. "I... study..."
"Are you a grad student? At the university..."
"That's right. I study... alchemy... I mean Chemistry..."
He laughed. "Some may still jokingly call it alchemy. We still haven't turned lead into gold."
"Neither have I," she sighed. "If you will excuse me... I must leave..."
"Sorry to detain you. Look, if you ever want to give a talk to my science class... I'd be happy to accommodate you."
"Sure," she said, adding more books to her stack, and stumbling off on her high heels. Whoever invented these strange sandals didn't have comfort in mind. But then again, she wasn't always able to dress in comfortable casual clothes, having been a Princess in Ancient Egypt.
As she turned, she saw a glass display case. Much like those in the museum, it contained old relics. Inside one case she was staring at was a series of antique scrolls that the library had on display. Mennehotep glanced at the writing on one sign, that said, "On loan from the Museum...."
Eagerly she glanced at the scrolls. Further down were bound tomes, like the ones she held. But the variety and history kept here. At the mid point were huge volumes, with elaborate hand-written text, not English. Then beyond that were folded scrolls, unrolled so people could glance at their writing. She recognized Greek scrawled on its surface. Then there were old clay tablets at the last cabinet. Some were Egyptian Hieroglyphics, and some were written in even more ancient text. Babylonian and Sumerian. Smiling, she put her stack of Chemistry books on one table.
The familiar hieroglyphics sang out to her tired eyes. Here were prayers and recipes. She snickered at the English translation provided below. Then her eyes moved to the Babylonian tablets. She could read this equally ancient language, for several priests and holy men from that far civilization had visited. And the Bactrian tablets too. Her eyes rested on the ancient Hebrew, and a feeling of guilt passed over her as she scanned them. She consoled herself when she looked at the Sumerian Cuneiform. But beside it was another stone, in another ancient form of Sumerian that had only recently been discovered. There was no English translation provided. Just a few bits here and there.
She gasped as she read them. For she could read these glyphs, having learned the script from an ancient Egyptian Papyrus found in a dusty room. They were a people long since conquered by the Sumerians. It was the legend of Gilgamish, regarding the flower of eternal youth he'd tried to find. And here was the formula for the flower's extract. How similar it was to her own. Her eyes widened as she took it all in.
"I was one ingredient off," she gasped. "I cannot believe it."
And these modern people didn't know it, for no one alive could read this rare language.
"Incredible how these old books have evolved over the centuries, isn't it?" asked a voice that almost made her jump a cubit into the air.
"Oh, you startled me," she gasped to Lyris, who had just walked up with the Prince.
"Sorry. But I was just telling you we were going back to the Sphinx," said Lyris.
"Oh. You'll never believe what I saw," she said.
"Whatever it is, you can check it out. But be sure you bring it back..."
"You can take these tablets out of here as well?"
"What tablets..." asked Lyris, then saw where they were pointing. "No. Not those. They're a display, like in the museum. They stay here."
"Oh, by Isis! How frustrating," she sighed. "Very well, these are the ones I want."
"Chemistry? Oh yuck!" groaned Presley when he saw her stack. "I have to take that when I'm going to high school..."
"Science is not as you say, yuck," said Mennehotep, looking hurt.
"He didn't mean any insult, Alchemist," said Lyris, taking Presley's shoulder. "We should go. It's getting late. And Ja-Kal may worry."
"Where is Rath, anyway?" asked Presley. "I thought you said he was coming too."
"Still dropping off books, perhaps," said Lyris, amusement in her turquoise eyes. "After all, they did fill the whole back seat of the Hot-Ra."
"And the trunk," giggled Presley.
"He does know the value of knowledge," Menne said, defensively. "If people like scribes didn't record, think how much would be lost."
"But Muses remember without writing things down," said Lyris. "And I can remember much..."
"Yes, but it gets garbled over the centuries. Just think how many versions of each myth there are..."
"But my memory is phenomenal!" Lyris snapped. "At least I don't forget to turn my library books in. And anyway, what good is a poem that isn't sung? It loses its magic with no Muse to tell it. Why, the spirit is fettered by the words of print..."
"But you don't remember formulas," said Mennehotep. "And many valuable cures are lost because people don't know how to read and write...."
"It's not their fault they never learned..." snapped Lyris. "And anyway, a poem is dead if it has no Bard to properly sing it..."
"What silliness is this?" asked Mennehotep, folding her arms across her chest in a very familiar gesture to Lyris. "The written word is synonymous with civilization. Without writing to record our accomplishments..."
"You sound just like Rath!" snapped Lyris. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were defending him..."
"You don't appreciate him," she returned, trying to remain calm. "Just because he's tied to his papyri doesn't mean he's heartless..."
"And what would a princess who worships a cold science like alchemy know of real love?" countered Lyris. "You with your formulas and your quest for vain and hollow things like gold and immortality?"
"Love is a potent motivational force... that Science and Art cannot shackle..."
"Hey, girls... time out," said Presley, waving his hands. "People are like, staring at us..."
Yet one person in particular did notice them. A strange shadow rushed out of the library as they stood there arguing. "The Master should be told about this," it said before jumping onto the next trolley car.
"Excuse me, but is there something wrong?" asked a familiar voice. Lyris and Mennehotep looked up into the amused face of the Scribe. Just how much of their exchange had he heard? He wore a long green trenchcoat with a matching tall hat, which was quite striking. From beneath the brim of the hat peeked those sharp green eyes, taking in both women. By now Lyris and Mennehotep were turning their own decided shades of purple, beneath their cosmetics.
"All the books dropped off?" Presley asked, matter of factly.
"Quite sufficiently, young Prince," Rath announced, clearly in good spirits for once that day. Lyris turned away from the Alchemist. Menne also broke her gaze with the Muse.
"Anyone for pomegranate juice?" the Scribe asked simply. "Reading always makes me thirsty."
Across the street from the library was a small coffee house. As they sat over their respective desserts, Rath noted the strange silence that fell over the Princess. Yet he discreetly pretended not to notice. For perhaps the Princess required her solitude, like their leader Ja-Kal.
"Hey Minnie, try the chocolate cake," Presley urged, slipping a piece in front of the Princess. Absently she stirred the cream into her coffee.
Lyris almost scarfed down the rich baklava before her. "This is the only place where they make it correctly," she said, with an appriciatetive sigh.
Rath simply ingested small sips of the orange juice, only interrupted by small tentative bites from his piece of strawberry pie. "It's not pomegranates, but it will suffice," he stated.
"Always the perfectionist," said Mennehotep, taking a small bite of the cake.
"What's bothering you?" asked Lyris, nudging the Princess.
"What?"
"You're a million cubits away," said Lyris. "Come back and talk with us."
"Oh, it's nothing," she sighed.
"I am sorry. I lost my reason for a moment in there..."
"That is not what I'm thinking about," said Mennehotep. "I am thinking of that vast storehouse of knowledge just begging to be read. And I only have a short time."
Lyris caught Presley's eye, and shrugged. Rath nodded at the Princess' comment, a look of understanding in his emerald green eyes.
"I hate to break this up," said Presley. "But if I don't get home in ten minutes, Mom will probably kill me."
"If you'll excuse us," said Lyris to Rath and Mennehotep. "I'll be happy to take him home."
"But..." said Rath, as he began to rise.
"Knock yourselves out," Presley laughed, as he shook his head. "Relax for once."
"Besides, you both probably would enjoy some quality time," she said, winking one turquoise eye at him. Rath all but groaned, and rolled his eyes at her foolishness. As Lyris and Presley left, he glanced about the shop. They had the place to themselves mostly now. For it was after lunch on a Saturday. Their respective outer garments hung on a front rack nearby. Momentarily the Princess would sigh, and glance over at the library through the large front window.
"May I enquire as to your current preoccupation, your Majesty..." he began, before she raised a finger to her lips.
"How many times have I said not to call me that?" she shushed him. "Menne is fine."
"It's difficult to break the habit of a lifetime, even after you're dead," he said, then stopped himself in mid sentence. Quickly he glanced around. Only a very bored teenager stood behind the display case of the coffee shop, and her eyes were riveted to the small television far up in one corner.
"It's something I saw in the museum, Rath," she said, lowering her voice. This was one of the few times, out in public, that she didn't address him as "Scribe," "Great Scribe," or "holder of ancient knowledge." Just the simple sound of his name coming from her lips sent shivers all over. He coughed, trying to regain his composure.
"Was it one of the tomes?" he said, with interest. "If there are any questions you have your Ma... I mean Menne, I would be more than happy to answer them."
"No. They had a display of tablets and scrolls. What they'd call ancient books," she began, leaning forwards toward him. Rath too leaned closer to listen. She told him of the contents of one particular clay tablet. As he listened, his green eyes widened discernibly in interest.
"Great Ptah," he whispered. "Could it be?"
"Yes, by Isis," she said. Both fell quiet, and glanced at the library through the window.
"And right under their noses all that time, because they can't read that language," sniffed Rath. "I was always telling the Young Prince the importance of learning to read."
"I had a time trying to convince Lyris..." began Menne, before falling silent. Rath's eyes sparkled with amusement. That way in which he regarded her made her blush.
"You may as well be talking to the Sphinx, and expect it to answer," Rath chuckled, hiding his smile behind one hand. "Any suggestion that the written idea is more important than the spoken evokes an explosive result."
"You might have warned me," she scolded, picking up her coffee. Carefully she blew steam off its dark surface before taking a sip.
"Lyris is rather unique in her views," he said. "And not to be crossed."
"Neither are you," she said, mischief in her eyes now.
"Now wait a minute," he began, then stopped with a rueful smile. Rath felt a foot thump against his, under the table. "I did suppose I had that coming, did I?"
Simply she smiled, and continued to ingest that piece of Black Forest chocolate cake. The darkness of the topping was far less rich than the hues of her hair.
"Is that supposed to be happening?" Menne asked, glancing out the window.
"What?"
"All those people rushing out of the library?" she asked, innocently. "Is it closing time?"
"What?" asked Rath, glancing at the wall clock. "It's only the fourth hour of the midday..."
"Great Osiris," they said together, standing up from the table. For they saw the mechanical dragging step of several Shabties as they pushed people from the front door.
Rath tossed a bill on the table, and rushed out. Menne followed, close behind, carrying her purse. No one saw them, for the clerk was still watching a talk show, and most of the excitement was focused on the out rushing crowd. Police vans pulled up, and barricades were set up.
"With the Strength of Ra!" cried Rath, transforming.
"With the Wisdom of Isis!" Menne shouted, arms upraised. In a blaze of violet lightening her form was sheathed in its Ibis armor.
"But wait, shouldn't we call the others?"
"I already have," Rath said, rushing towards the back entrance. Spreading her violet wing cloak she soared along after him.
Ja-Kal soared over the racing Hot-Ra as it sped towards the Library. Lyris, Nefer-Tina and Armon bumped along and rattled inside the transparent cabin as they rushed up and down the hills of San Francisco. Luckily Rath had invented seat belts for their use.
"How could Rath and Menne get into such trouble five minutes after I left?" asked Lyris, holding her head as they trundled across the trolley tracks.
"Sometimes I wonder that myself," giggled Nefer-Tina to herself as she steered and slammed the gas.
"But she didn't tell me why she was still there. Why Shabties would be at the library at that time..."
"What were you doing?" asked Armon. "Did you have a fight?"
Both women looked at Armon. "What?" he asked.
"She was looking at old scrolls," said Lyris. "But she never said anything..."
"Old scrolls?" asked Armon. "Did they have any good recipes like my mom used to make..."
"Armon," sighed Nefer-Tina.
"No wait, he's right," said Lyris. "Maybe she saw a recipe on one of the tablets."
"Huh?" asked Armon and Nefer-Tina together.
"We did have an argument. About the written versus the spoken word," said Lyris. "And she said there was nothing so important as knowledge that was not forgotten because someone wrote it down..."
"So you're saying she saw something in those scrolls?" asked Nefer-Tina.
"That's right. And she didn't tell me about it, but she probably told Rath about it, because he thinks written words are important, being a Scribe and all."
"I just thought they wanted time alone together..." said Armon. "Is that not what a man and women do when they say they want to talk?"
"Armon, you surprise me more every day," said Nefer-Tina.
"I know all about women," he said triumphantly. Lyris and Nefer-Tina looked at each other, sighing.
Meanwhile at the Library, Rath and Mennehotep slipped in the back door. "How did you know to come this way?" she whispered.
"You remember I had a few books to return?" he began.
"A few?" she laughed. "A few hundred, more like."
Rath ignored her. They ducked behind bookcases as several Shabties marched by. "I have never seen so many forms," said Menne.
"Scarab's sign," muttered Rath. "Where there are Shabties in mass, there is Scarab."
"I have never fought him," she admitted. "But I heard legends of his great powers."
"Stay close, and let me do the fighting," he said. "There are hidden motives in whatever he does."
"Do you think he knows about the tablet?" she asked.
"Does the Nile flood every year?" he returned.
Display case after display case was being rummaged through by the Shabties. Anxiously a tall gaunt figure in black robes picked up the pieces, and turned them over in his hands. The staff he held also glanced them over.
"Where is it Heka?" he growled. "My source said it was here!"
"Perhaps he cannot read," she purred, amusement in her red eyes.
"Not funny," grumbled Scarab.
"Stop right there, Scarab!" cried Rath, leaping from behind the bookcase before Mennehotep could stop him.
"Well, if it isn't the peanut gallery," laughed Heka.
"How dare you desecrate this hall of learning with your foul stench!" hissed Rath, eyes shaded beneath his cobra mask. Frantically he gestured to Menne to stay hidden. She fumed.
"This is not your concern, you outmoded fool," snorted Scarab as he raised his staff. "Shabties, you know what to do. Delete this Scribe!"
Slowly they encircled Rath. With not so much as a sweat he swung round his sword, cleaving them all in half. Another ring advanced, their staffs ready. Red light blazed. Artfully Rath leapt from the ring, somersaulted, and came to rest before Scarab himself.
The wizard raised his arms, and armor formed over his black robes. Rath raised his sword, and ran for the attack. Scarab simply sprouted wings and hovered only feet into the air. This gave several Shabties the chance to advance on the unsuspecting scribe. Yet in the reflection of his blade he saw them advance. Swinging round, his tail wrapped around one, then sent it hurtling into the other two.
Menne sprung from her hiding place to join the fray. Rath could only handle so many clay men. More appeared from the side wings as Scarab gestured, their staffs upraised. She cut a path to him, cartwheeling and kicking with powerful clawed boots. As one grabbed her she brought her helmet beak down on its head. The headless statue simply continued to hold her, and advance.
"Well, well, what have we here?" Scarab asked, still hovering overhead. "A new mummy?"
"I've never seen her before," said Heka. "Is it possible the scribe has found himself a girlfriend?"
"Let us take advantage of this new development," said Scarab. "Shabties, grab her!"
But that proved to be more difficult than Scarab expected. Rath's sword cut her free, and they stood back to back as the Shabties ringed them in. "I thought I told you to stay put!" Rath gritted as he deflected a few bolts.
"You know I hate seeing you have all the amusement," she quipped, deflecting bolts with her gauntlets. "What do you say we end this here and now?"
"By all means be my guest, your majesty," Rath said. So saying, Menne reached into her belt. She hurled a vial into the midst of the Shabties, before pushing Rath to one side. A large boom muffled the chamber with smoke. When it cleared, Scarab could see no sign of either mummy.
"Heka!" he coughed. "Where are they?"
"I can't see," she hissed helplessly. "There's smoke in my eyes."
With a gesture, Scarab summoned a wind. He landed, close to where he thought the display cases were. His Shabties wandered about, confused as the fog clung to their faces.
"What a clever trick," muttered Scarab, despite his irritation. "More than just a simple smoke screen."
"It was Rath's girlfriend," said Heka. "And one of the tablets is missing!"
"Which one?" asked Scarab, wiping smoke from his armor.
"That one you said you couldn't read," she suggested. Anger darkened his masked face.
"That's it. Shabties! Find them!"
"Where?" snorted Heka. "They could be anywhere."
"If I know Rath, he'd try to save these worthless books by drawing my minions outside," mused Scarab. He aimed Heka at the roof, where she breathed a stream of flame. Scarab few out the exit hole. On the street the police siren howled in protest as several Shabties attacked. A fire arrow zinged past Heka as she gasped.
"Ja-Kal, how nice of you to join my party," laughed Scarab, as he aimed a magic bolt at the leader.
Nefer-Tina and Lyris cut their own path through the lines of Shabties blocking the front steps. Armon pounded the street, sending Shabties flying in a large domino chain. One by one they toppled as the one before struck the one after.
Scarab fired blast after blast at the elusive Horus-winged Ja-Kal. The nimble hunter flew rings around the wizard as he hovered over the library roof. But the fire arrows bounced harmlessly off his beetle armor. "Give it up, hunter," laughed Scarab. "We are too evenly matched."
"Not for long," said Heka.
"What?"
For an amethyst streak cut between them and Ja-Kal. "Who dares..." stammered Scarab in surprise as a winged shape circled again, the opposite direction of Ja-Kal. Magic bolts sizzled against his armor, and slowly penetrated.
"Only another wizard can pierce my armor," he snarled, looking at the holes.
"Looks like they have one..."
"Rath cannot fly. Without his accursed craft."
Rath had now climbed into his Sky-Cophagus, and joined the attack. With a gesture Scarab summoned more Shabties in two helicopters to join the fray. Ja-Kal was distracted as he chased one. "Ja-Kal! Don't attack the Library! Draw him away!" called Rath from the aircraft.
Scarab felt more blasts piercing his armor. He glanced at the source, activating a mystical barrier. It was a woman, wearing amethyst wings similar to Ja-Kal's. The ibis mask covered her face and head, with its purple stripes on gold. Purple boots and gauntlets covered her calves and hands as she generated her blasts of energy. Harmlessly they crashed against his own barrier. He hurled his own magic missiles at her. But her arms crossed before her chest as she encased herself in a violet sphere.
"Who are you!" exclaimed Scarab.
"Your worst nightmare, murderer!" shrilled a female voice.
"What is your concern in this?" he snarled.
"You killed my ancestor," she shrieked. "The Pharaoh Rapses never was because of your machinations!"
"My, aren't we feisty," he laughed as more energy blasted his way. "You obviously have the same abilities as our fair Chandra. I recognize the energy signature. But you aren't her."
"You are right, wizard," she called. She drew him away from the library. Her cloak billowed like a set of glider wings. Scarab beetle and ibis hurtled over the buildings.
Far below, Lyris and her friends finished off the last Shabti before following in the Hot-Ra.
"What's Rath's plan?" asked Nefer-Tina, over her mystic amulet.
"He's drawing Scarab from the library," came Ja-Kal's voice amidst the whisper of energy blasts. "Whatever Scarab wants is still there."
Ja-Kal's arrows smashed into a chopper's blades, bringing it down. Rath's own armaments had dispensed with the other. By now both had circled back on Scarab. "Menne, don't!" he called, as Scarab's blast crashed against her mystic shield. But she still countered everything he threw at her. Ja-Kal aimed arrows, which continued to bombard Scarab's shield. It fizzled against their combined assault. "We're doing it, your Highness!" he cried happily.
"Your highness?" puzzled Heka, looking at Scarab. "Menne?"
"Minnie? Menne... It couldn't be..." muttered Scarab, tracing over his recently acquired knowledge of the Egyptian history since his release. "Ah, yes. By Sutek and Anubis it is her!"
"Her who? Who could withstand your mystic blasts with such ease?"
"Queen Mennehotep the Healer, wife of Pharaoh Tuthmosis III... the Usurper..."
"One of your role models," said Heka.
"Time to take out insurance," said Scarab to Heka. He nodded to a series of construction workers on a nearby building who has stopped work to watch the air battle. Carefully he aimed a blast at the nearest one.
The man plummeted. As Ja-Kal noticed, a second blast crashed into the sky cophagus. Rath leapt out, hurtling towards the pavement. "No!" cried Ja-Kal, torn.
"I'll get him!" shouted Menne, soaring towards Rath. He managed to twist his cobra tail around a steel girder as he fell. But Scarab still aimed blasts at the scribe. Ja-Kal reached the worker, with only seconds to spare. The girder snapped as a blast from Heka melted the steel. Rath grabbed with his claws, only inches from a nasty fall. Menne reached him just as he slipped, grabbing his wrists. The combined weight pulled her down. Unlike Ja-Kal's wings, hers were only designed to carry little more than her own weight.
"Pull up!" cried Rath, as she plummeted. He breathed as she caught a thermal, and stabilized.
"I... cannot hold your weight," she gasped, heart pounding.
In a blaze of green energy his armor vanished. "Does this help?"
"Barely," she gasped, as he wrapped his arms around her waist and neck. Scarab now flew after both of them, intent. "I thought you said you redesigned my flight."
"I didn't anticipate this usage..." he gasped, as Menne still struggled to fly, Rath's arms clasped round her.
"He's still after us!" she gasped.
"Fly lower," he said.
"Are you mad?" she asked. A blast raked her wing, and she shrieked. Rath winced, as they lost altitude. However, Ja-Kal followed Scarab.
"Trust me," said Rath, and whispered something into her ear. Now Ja-Kal was almost on top of Scarab. Far below the Hot-Ra caught up, adding its own contribution to the frantic chase.
Another blast hit Menne, unexpected. Suddenly her armor fizzled out, and she shrieked. Rath transformed back into armor in seconds, reaching out with his long cobra tail. It snaked around a street light, jerking enough velocity from their fall as Rath twisted his body beneath hers, to cushion her as they fell. Perhaps he could save her. They crashed into an awning, bounced, and landed with an undignified thump in a nearby dumpster.
"No!" shouted Ja-Kal. He saw them go down, and thought the worst.
Scarab smiled in triumph. "I don't have what I came for, mummy fools. But it's only a matter of time," he taunted, raining Ja-Kal with more blasts. Ja-Kal crashed into the waiting arms of Armon, in the Hot-Ra far below.
"He got away," Ja-Kal gasped, catching his wits.
"Shall I go after the bum?" asked Nefer-Tina.
"Where's Rath and Menne?" asked Lyris, concern in her eyes.
"Scarab.... got them..." announced Ja-Kal. "And this is a very big city."
"Didn't you see where they fell?"
"I was so busy I had my eyes on Scarab," said Ja-Kal. "They went down into an alley, and I saw smoke. But... that was blocks ago."
"We'll find them," said Nefer-Tina.
Rath coughed, and opened his eyes. Across his body lay Menne, still shaking her head. Carefully he sat up, hands contacting the trash. With disgust he curled his nose. He carefully raised her to a sitting position. "Ooh, by Isis my whole head hurts," she gasped.
"We're quite safe for the moment," he announced. "Are you still intact, your Highness?"
"I must be. I'm in too much pain to be in the Afterlife," she moaned.
"Are you sure you're all right?" he said, concern in his green eyes.
"What is that pungent odor?" she asked. "Where is Scarab?"
"We have eluded him, as my plan unfolded. However, I did not anticipate such a rough landing."
"Nice," said she. "But next time, we rehearse these dances."
They crawled out of the dumpster. Rath still wore his cobra armor. Its copper alloy scales had shielded him from the main force of the fall. Fortunately he had shielded the Princess as well with his own body. However, her armor was not present. "I must have used my power up in my melee with Scarab," she thought to herself.
"Where are we?" she asked. High walls rose around them on three sides, to a single point in the sky. Menne pulled her black gauze dress around her as she shivered. Wind swept through the narrow alley, chilling her through bandages and all.
"In an alley, your highness. But worry not. Rath has planned for every contingency. Even as we speak, we have allies in wait."
"I didn't think you fraternized with vagrants," she whispered, as she saw shadows approach.
"Still, I think it would be best if we didn't attract too much attention," said he, transforming out of his serpent armor. Menne nodded. With a gesture he summoned up their street clothing once more, that they had been wearing before the fight started.
It wasn't much better for Menne, with her short skirt and high heeled shoes. But it was preferable to standing out like the proverbial sore thumb. Together they moved out of the alley, and onto the street. Papers and gleaming glass lined the fences. That same smell pieced the noisy air. That smell of offal and garbage. Mennehotep thought she would be sick.
Overhead the lights grew stronger. Scarlet bands washed over the sky, as Ra set in the west. Menne and Rath walked, hand in hand amidst wandering ragamuffins and vagrants. This was the slums, the ghetto. Menne traced back into her mind as she recalled her sorrow. "All these people, so miserable," she sniffed. "It's so sad."
"But they survive," said Rath. "And there are shelters in which they can rest."
"It's nearly the seventh hour," she said. "Where will we rest to restore our powers?"
"That's a good question," he said. "It's difficult to arrive at an answer."
"I was afraid of that," she sighed, pulling her short suit jacket more firmly around herself. Rath opened his coat, pulling her close to himself as they walked along.
Just then they heard the roar of an engine. Hopefully they pushed their way to the street, in hopes it was the Hot-Ra. But it was simply a yellow cab. "Clear the way, you deadbeats!" someone yelled at several figures trying to cross the street.
For a man in a ragged coat had stepped in front of the cab, holding a bucket and sponge. "I'll wash your windows, for five bucks," he said.
"Move it out, jerk," snapped the businessman in the car. Rath stopped cold at the scene.
"He's just trying to make a living," shrugged the cab driver.
"So are you. Now step on it."
As his foot gunned the pedal to leave, the man would not budge. But a streak shot out, and threw the man aside as the cab roared by. Menne watched, impressed as Rath pulled the man to safety.
"You really ought to be more careful," Rath said to the man. For a moment, he looked blankly at Rath. Then recognition flared into his face.
"Ace!" he laughed, clapping him on the back. "I can't believe it! Or is it Rath?"
"Both," huffed Rath, catching a breath. "How are you, Theo?"
"What brings you back to the streets?" laughed Theo, throwing an arm around Rath's thin shoulders as they walked towards Menne. "Last time I recall, you walked out with the rest of the bandage crew."
"There's been a slight accident," said Rath.
"Whoa, whose the looker?" Theo asked, indicating Menne.
"Er, that's a friend of mine," he said. "Menne, meet Theo. Theo, Menne."
"Nice to meet you, Minnie," he laughed, shaking her hand vigorously. She smiled politely. "Rath why are you bringing a high class skirt to a place like this?"
"We got lost," Rath said, pulling him to one side.
"He ran into spies," snorted another person, in a yellow bandanna.
"Wots th matter with you boneheads?" asked a woman's voice. "Can'tchu see she's freezing?"
"Rosie, Max!" gasped Rath as his friends came into view. The woman took a blanket from her plastic garbage bag, and draped it over Mennehotep's shoulders.
"C'mon now hon. You're okay now," Rosie said to Menne. "Some guys can't take a hint."
Menne smiled, and sighed with the pleasure of this woman's simple concern for her safety. Rath moved to her side, fussing over her. "Oh, do forgive me... I simply was..."
"Nice girl you got yourself," laughed Max. "Where did you find her? Office park west?"
"With those duds I wouldn't be surprised," said Rosie. "What happened to you, hon?"
"We were attacked," said Rath. "And we need a place to shelter for the night. Can you make any recommendations..."
"The new shelter on 15th street," said Theo as they walked along. Protectively Rath had his arm on Menne's shoulder. Bravely she limped along. Rosie took some of her weight.
"But that's no place for her," said Theo. "A girlfriend like your..."
"She's not my..." Rath began, but stopped when a sharp elbow poked him in the ribs.
"Someone's after us. And we need to get back to the Sphinx in the Park," said Menne.
"Good luck this time of night," said Theo. "And we're not made of cash, if you see my drift."
"Just point us to the nearest bus terminal, and we'll do fine," said Rath. "Thank you for your help."
"No prob, Ace, I mean Rath," said Max. "You're still okay with us."
They walked them to the depot. Rath and Menne stood and waited, as their street friends waited with them. Just in case. Rosie nursed her knee. "What's wrong?" asked Menne.
"Nothin. Just a little scratch."
"No let me see."
Menne winced as Rosie showed her the scrape. "Here, let me help," said Menne, reaching into her purse.
"Scuse me, but this ain't nothing a little tissue can help," said Rosie bravely.
Menne rubbed a small portion of salve on the wound. Immediately the swelling stopped, and the bleeding was stanched as she wrapped some of her own bandages over it.
"Hey, what are you, Florence Nightingale or something?" asked Max.
"I have a way of healing," Menne started to explain.
"Your majesty, I hardly think that..."
"Rath, I thought I told you not to call me that... in public," she snapped.
"What?" asked the three street people, in varying degrees of confusion.
"I'm sorry, but I don't think we need to get them involved..." continued Rath. "I don't want these people to suffer unecessary danger as they did before..."
"Are you in some kinda trouble?" Max asked, suspicious. "Can we help?"
"I hardly think that's necessary..."
"Are we not good enough to..." asked Max.
"Quiet!" said Menne, pushing them aside. A faint humming grew to a loud battering roar.
"The bus?"
"No! Scarab's flying machine!" she gasped. She and Rath pushed the whole group towards an alley as a chopper descended. Wind whipped at their eyes as they raced away to safety. One by one they vanished into the narrow opening.
"Geez Louise, what did you do?" snarled Max.
"We went to the library," Menne began, before Rath hushed her.
"It's obvious that they're after them," said Theo. "We gotta help them get away."
"That looks like the chopper that belonged to that joker who sucked years outta our friend, Wilcox," said Rosie, as the chopper scanned the pavement with floodlight spots.
"That would be he," shouted Rath over the whirring of the blades.
"That scumbag," snapped Max. "I'd love to rearrange his face."
"Unfortunately he's not in the copter," said Rath. "Just his Shabties."
"What do you got that he wants?" asked Max.
"A tablet..." said Menne. "And he wants it at all costs."
"We gotta make sure he don't get it, right?" asked Rosie.
"Right." said Rath.
"Follow me. We can lose them this way," said Theo, pulling them along. By now a stray beam shot right up the alley, painting them in its artificial dawn. Menne hobbled along as the group wound through an intricate maze of alleys and streets. Overhead the chopper relentlessly played cat to their mice. She slipped, as Rosie caught her. "Lean on me, hon," Rosie offered, helping her up. The two women limped along together. Rath, who was at the front of the column, turned to find the gap between them increasing. He scooped the Princess into his arms, and hurried Rosie along before him till she caught up with Max and Theo.
"In here," Theo said, diving into a nearby abandoned store. Everyone followed, and shrank away as the chopper descended.
"Take care of her," Rath instructed, as he put Menne down carefully.
"But I can help..." she protested.
"Don't be silly. Why, in your present state, without your full powers? Just do as I say and leave everything to me..."
"Of all the idiotic... overbearing..." she spluttered, before Rosie hushed her. Rath was already outside.
"With the Strength of Ra!" he shouted, transforming. He hurled his blade at the chopper. As it impacted with the shaft, there was a large explosion. The whole craft crashed to the street below. Just as the figures jumped out, Rath was ready. As he recovered his sword, he advanced upon them menacingly. "Come and face me, you wretched statues. Here I am!"
The Shabties obliged. And raised their weapons. Harmlessly he deflected the bolts with his sword. "You'll have to do better than that," he laughed. Just then, his armor fizzled out.
"Great Ptah," he snorted, and backed up. "What timing!"
Menne struggled to her feet. "The arrogant fool," she clucked, shaking her head. She reached under her jacket, and threw a vial towards the Shabties. "Get down!" she shouted to Rath. Everyone hit the floor as the Shabties exploded in a mass of clay.
Rath picked himself up, and returned to the abandoned building. Now no longer in armor, his coat was in shreds. "I do wish you'd warn me the next time you use one of those," he sniffed.
"You're welcome, too," she laughed, from the floor. Rosie, Theo, and Max stood, their jaws to the floor.
"What the heck was in that?" asked Max, when he shook his head.
"A small explosive mix of mine," said Menne, modestly.
"I would prefer we stop the bangs and flashes for now," said Rath, dusting himself off. "After all I don't have nine lives, like a sacred cat."
"Man, what a kick," said Theo. "What are you, lady? A cop?"
"Actually I'm an alchemist..." she began, before Rath cut her off.
"We should be all right for now. But we can't stay here forever."
"Rath, we might as well tell them. Their lives are in danger. And perhaps..."
"But they aren't involved..." he argued. "And to put you into anymore danger."
"For the last time, stop coddling me," she shouted. "I am capable of defending myself!"
"With all due respect, you are a..."
"Rath, be silent!" she cried. "I told you not to..."
"Is this the thanks I get, for saving your life... for providing for your safety..."
"Rath, I'm not..."
"Its my duty to protect the royal house... and I mean to carry it out... and if some people can't appreciate it..."
"I can, but you're smothering me! Now I know what frustration Nefer-Tina meant! You are an arrogant pain in the..."
"Smothering you? That's a laugh," he shot back. "I give ample opportunity... to."
"Don't make me laugh," she retorted. "Ever since I lay there in your arms, half to the Western gate, you've hovered over me. It drives me to madness..."
"There's a perfectly good reason for it," he said, hands on his hips.
"This isn't ancient Egypt," she snarled. "And you don't treat the prince this way..."
"I do so," he hissed, his nose only inches from hers as she stood up on her tip toes to stare him right in the eyes. "Do you know what would happen to you, if Scarab happened to get your soul instead?"
"I'm not stupid!" she snapped. "Don't you think I know?"
"I know you do! You're one of the most intelligent women I've had the privilege to meet... and if anything ever happened to you..."
Rath stopped himself, as the words formed on his tongue. "If anything happened, what?" asked Menne, her hair in disarray.
"Forgive me, your majesty," he said, backing away. "I had no idea that my presence was offensive."
"No Rath," she said. "It's not that. It's just that... I have my own ideas and sometimes you treat me differently than..."
"Than who?"
"Than Nefer-Tina, and Lyris. Like I'm special...."
"But you are. You're a princess..." he began.
"That's not what I mean," she said, grabbing his hands. "And you know it. What about that night in the garden?"
"I... er was under an enchantment," he coughed, folding arms over his chest. "The same thing happened to me with Lyris, before I called you to life..."
"Rubbish," she laughed. "You're an awful liar, Scribe."
"I must protest... to this line of accusations," he blustered, as she advanced upon him.
"Don't play those games with me," she said, shaking her head. "I know you too well."
She seized his tattered lapels. Back up against a wall, his hat promptly fell off his head, revealing his headdress underneath. "I suggest you fess up," laughed Theo, from one side as they had been well entertained by this display. "The lady means business."
"This hardly has anything to do with..." Rath spluttered.
"Rath, shut up for once in your afterlife," sighed Mennehotep, leaning up against the trembling scribe.
"B-but your majesty... mph!" His last words were choked off as she pressed her lips to his. Her hands folded behind his neck as she embraced him. Slowly he placed one arm around her waist, the other hand traced through her hair.
Max and Rosie laughed, and clapped. An aura of light sparkled about the two amulets, spreading over the forms of the scribe and the alchemist till they were painted in a bizarre radiance. Rath still held her in his arms, clearly enjoying the display of affection. For he did not push her away. If he opened his eyes a bit he could see the dimness of the street lamps in the distance, and the welcome silence as night blanketed the city. Somewhere far away was the Sphinx, and home.
"I told you not to call me that in public," said she, eyes still closed as he brushed his nose against hers. This sort of kiss was certainly strange. For the last time she insisted on rubbing noses. He recalled the countless romance movies that she and Nefer-Tina had stayed up late to watch. Despite his initial reservations about ancient Egyptian etiquette, he returned her kiss, with equal vigor. He certainly hoped that he was effecting the right gesture. Relaxing visibly, he allowed himself to savor the shivers that covered him all over like a gentle rain.
"Guys, I hate to break up this rapturous reunion, but we've got company," said Theo. With regret the Scribe broke off the kiss from the Princess.
"What?" asked Menne, turning to look at the street.
"Everybody down," said Max, as shadows approached.
"It might be your friends," said Rosie.
"I doubt it," muttered Menne.
"How can you tell?" asked Theo.
"Our amulets aren't glowing," explained Rath. "That's why."
But it was a false alarm. A group of people were simply wandering by the old building. Several stones crashed through the glass, and laughter ensued. "Young punks," Max shouted, rushing out of the store. Theo raced to stop him.
Out on the street the stars faintly peeked through the orange haze of the sodium lamps. Rath narrowed his eyes, and glanced about. Theo glanced at his watch. "It's late, isn't it?" asked Menne. "How long have we been gone from our sarcophagi, Rath?"
"Far too long," he sighed. "And by the looks of it, we missed the last bus."
"Shoot, they run all night," said Rosie.
"But we have no money," said Rath, pulling at his pockets.
"An no pawn shops are open this late," muttered Theo.
"Wait. Do you know where there's an undertaker?" asked Menne. Everyone looked at her, question marks in their faces.
"Sure. 20th and Main. Not far," said Theo. "Why? Someone you know die?"
Rath looked at her, as they walked along. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked, suspicious.
"Great minds think alike," she said, looking at him with those onyx eyes.
"But that won't work," he said.
"But a coffin is like a sarcophagus," she said. "Isn't it? I mean, that's where the people of this time inter their dead."
"But really..."
"Hey, what are you, Dracula or something?" asked Rosie. Soon they reached the door of a grim funeral parlor. Max quickly picked the front cage lock, and they let Rath and Menne inside.
"Thank you for your help," Rath said. "Now you'd better go."
"Anytime Rath," said his friends as they vanished into the city. "I hope that shelter's still open."
They glanced around the room, littered with all sorts of boxes. Rath and Menne searched for one that would fit their dimensions. Most were locked. Soon they were able to find two suitable caskets, and climb inside.
"Good night," she said to Rath, as she lay in the fine velvet casing of a white steel coffin.
"Rest well," he called, settling into a pine box linked in red silk. It wasn't his own sarcophagus, but it had to do in a pinch.
A green eyed woman stepped out of the door of her apartment. She fished out her keys, and proceeded to lock the door. The first traces of dawn had fled in the eastern sky, still alight with a pale blue. Birds chirped as they had for many mornings.
Her heavily made up eyelashes fluttered in the morning breeze. She zipped up her leather jacket over her red shirt, and flipped the stray hair that had fallen into her young attractive face. Something caught her attention. Leaning over she picked up the paper. Her eyes widened as she looked at the headline. In detail the attack on the library was spelled out.
"So, it begins the second round," she smiled, fingering the ancient Egyptian amulet at her throat. "My dear sister survived after all?"
As she stood in reflection, two strange figures grabbed for her. She whirled about, amulet at the ready. They disintegrated into lumps of charred earth.
"You'll have to do better than that, whomever you are," she said to the air.
"I intend to," said a hollow voice, as she whirled about.
"By the power of..." she just managed to get out before a blast of energy cut her down. Kara crumpled to the pavement.
"This is Queen Mennehotep?" asked a velvet voice, as a snake's tongue flickered in the body's direction. "The mighty princess and alchemist of legend? The wife of Tuthmosis III...."
"The tracer was never wrong before," came the hollow voice, as it slipped a hand under her face. The dark hair was in disarray. Long bony fingers found the amulet at her throat. Flipping it over, the eyes read the inscribed hieroglyphics.
Darkness crossed the old man's features. "Stupid fools," he grumbled. "This is not she. Her flesh is human, not necrotic."
"But she is the image of the woman seen at the library yesterday," said Heka.
"I see now," laughed Scarab, and grinned evilly. "She has an older sister, after all."
"Well, whatever led you to that brilliant conclusion?" asked Heka sarcastically.
"Remember what you said about not being able to read," said Scarab, holding up the amulet. "It's spelled out very plainly."
With that he shoved it in her face. "Read that, and weep."
"To the glory of her Majesty Princess Kara, daughter of Haptshutsept... long may she live as long as her seed passes from this generation to the next..."
"You see Heka, there is value in even this small error. For I have found something far better in this woman."
"Really," sneered Heka. "I don't think she's your type."
"Shabties, make her comfortable," ordered Scarab, with but a gesture. "We have much to discuss with the young lady who dares call herself a sorceron..."
Nefer-Tina and Presley rode in the Hot Ra, eyes peeled for any sign of their friends. Presley yawned, and rubbed his eyes. "I can't believe Rath got lost again," he said.
"Scarab was all over the city last night looking for them," said Nefer-Tina. "And we tried to track their amulets. "But Ja-Kal said it would be better if we waited."
"But they didn't recharge..." said Presley with alarm.
"Don't worry," said Nefer-Tina. "We've been away from our sarcophagi longer than Rath and Menne were last night. They should be fine..."
"But didn't Ja-Kal say that Minnie's armor fizzled out when Scarab hit her?" asked Presley. "That means she can't defend herself..."
"But Rath was still armored," said Nefer-Tina. "He can still fight. And besides, Minnie's pretty smart. They'll be fine."
"Some way to get time alone," Presley muttered.
"They're probably having a ball somewhere," said Nefer-Tina. "Probably Menne took him to a club or something. I sure hope so. That grouch needs to get down and party once in a while..."
"I hope so," said Presley, chewing his lip. "They have my library card..."
Menne opened her eyes. She felt the neo-sarcophagus lurching as it moved from its spot. "Rath..." she choked as she tried to open the lid. Bandaged fists hammered frantically on the under surface, only to be muffled by the rich silk lining.
Inside his casket Rath's amulet wailed its alarm. His eyes flickered open as he heard the faint cries of the Princess. There was a hammering noise like fists upon metal. He struggled at his own lid, to no avail.
"With the strength of Ra!" he shouted, blazing with energy. But to his dismay, only his sword appeared. But it was enough. He seized the blade, and slit the hinges on his coffin. Only to find no trace of Menne's casket in the mortuary. He sprang to his feet, blade in hand. The morning rays of Ra shone from its polished surface. Rath stretched, and raced off in the direction of a distant echoing engine.
Menne suddenly gasped, "With the wisdom of Isis..." but nothing happened. Why had she not transformed? But she felt rested. Perhaps her fears were right. Even though her amulet did wail in alarm, she could not invoke her power. The coffin may work like a sarcophagus, but the special properties of her own sarcophagi were not invoked. Whatever abilities were recharged, they were not present here in this modern box for the dead.
She reached under her belt. There were the capsules there still. They required no mystic energy to work. She needed to get out, not for air, but for risk of being separated from Rath. Even thought she hated being the maiden in distress, she might very well have to rely upon him to rescue her, as her strength was not nearly enough to break through this strange metal. Added to that, the risk of dismembering her mummified body from an exploding capsule wasn't worth the freedom. In her mind she suddenly saw the symbols from the Chemistry book. What was this box made of? Not copper, but some cold metal far harder.
Her amulet did cast enough light for her to read the inscriptions on her remaining vials. Saltpeter, vitriol, potash, and Murata. Murata. It could eat through metals. But not all metals. And it would take time. What was the reaction in the chemistry book? Suddenly her comprehension was crystal clear. As if the veneer of thirty centuries had fallen, and her paradigm of ancient Egypt was drawn aside like a curtain.
Hydrochloric acid. Concentrated. Steel, carbonized iron. This box was steel. And hydrochloric acid could weaken steel. So she sloshed the vial's contents onto the latch lock. Slowly fumes rose from the velvet insert. She lay the bicarb around the stream of acid to direct its concentration. To the acid she added the potassium nitrate, and the carbon. What resulted was a thick smoke that seeped out the cracks of the coffin's lid.
Rath saw the smoke as it poured out of the roof of the stopped car. He leapt from the roof of the van. His bandaged feet thumped as he leapt from roof to roof in the sea of morning rush hour traffic. Till he reached the hearse. Swinging his blade, he slashed at the roof, and levered it aside. Sure enough the smoke billowed out. Another swing, and the hinges gave way. Rath grabbed her under her arms and legs and lifted. His sword transformed into a serpent, and twined around his arm as he jumped free of the car.
Nefer-Tina saw a billowing column of smoke rising from one far-away block. "Fire?" she wondered as several engines whirled past.
Presley's amulet glittered as he held in the direction of the smoke. "No way..." he gasped. "They're over there..." he said.
Rath carried the stunned Menne from the smoking hearse. Firefighters swarmed over the stopped herself, levering open doors as the driver emerged, cursing and swearing. He was never so glad as he was that minute to see Nefer-Tina and Rapses again.
From inside the large glass pyramid, a green eyed woman watched the smoke rise. "Very clever, dear sister," she said with a nod of approval.
The old man across the desk asked, "So are you who you claim, or not?"
"You hold my amulet," Kara laughed, and plopped down into a plush chair. Her green eyes never left the sight of her amulet resting on the desk inches from the man's skeletal fingers. "I might ask you the same question, sir. But you are not in the land of the living."
"You can taunt, young fool," he snickered. "But remember. Your own hold on this world is not permanent. For when that body dies..."
"I will have another daughter by then," said Kara. "But you do not have the option as I do."
So saying she gestured, and the amulet blazed with blue energy. As Scarab rubbed his eyes, the amulet was back around her neck. She sat upon the desk, green eyes glaring menacingly into his own.
"I am very interested in what you have to say, Princess Kara," said he, regaining his composure. For now she had the upper hand. Or so she believed.
"Shoot, Scarab," she said. "If you are who you claim to be."
"Touche," he smiled. "Very well, this is my offer. A certain lost formula for a youth elixir has come to my attention. But certain other parties have lay claim to it."
"Certain other parties being people related to me?" asked Kara bitterly. "Your foolish Shabties could not tell the difference between a dead woman and a live one."
"It is not my folly that you bear a striking resemblance to your dear sister Mennehotep," said Scarab mildly. "After all, they were tracing the mystic traces from your amulets. And their energy signatures are very much the same."
"Not at all the same," she hissed, her face forming in the image of a lioness. "And you know it..."
"My dear Princess," said Scarab. "Do calm yourself. We both want the same thing."
"Yes. The death of the usurper Rapses..." said Kara, her face becoming its usual self again.
"Either way we can have what we desire. Immortality, at the hands of your dear sister. And her ability to read the ancient Demotic texts has brought it into my grasp."
"Indeed?" said Kara. "Then perhaps your stupid Shabties capture of me wasn't in vain. I hate having my time wasted."
"Your time with me is never wasted, dear Princess," said Scarab. "Now listen. I have a plan..."
"I hope it worked better than your last one..." said Heka.
"Silence..." snapped Scarab, tossing his staff at the wall. "Who asked for your opinion..."
"She has a point," said Kara. "A mass attack with your clay toys was hardly effective. Like swatting a fly with a cannon."
"You fared no better as I hear," said Scarab. "You got away with only half the youth formula that your sister wrought."
Kara tossed a vial onto his desk. "Take a free sample if you like," she smiled. "You must apply it daily for it to work, and the ingredients are rare. But you must admit it is a good stopgap solution."
Scarab fingered the vial, holding it up to the light that traced in from his large office windows. A smile crept over his features as his pulled the stopper and dribbled its contents into a small wine glass to his left.
"But its effect builds up a tolerance," said Scarab. "And you knew it. As did Mennehotep. The one last ingredient was missing, till yesterday."
"Yes. The real Gilgamish formula," said Kara. "And you couldn't read it..."
Heka laughed along with Kara as Scarab fumed. Perhaps this new alliance would prove entertaining after all. "What did you have in mind?" Scarab asked, gritting his teeth.
"For starters, as much as that formula for you as you want..."
"That's a good beginning," said Scarab, holding the wine glass aloft.
"My sister has an overwhelming thirst for knowledge," said Kara, pouring a measure for herself into a water tumbler. "And a desire to ease the suffering of others."
"Then those qualities shall lead to her downfall," said Scarab. "And together we will see the result."
They raised their glasses, and toasted the rising of the three stars of Osiris. Gleaming energy seethed from crystal into their throats.
"Immortality, at last?" asked Kara. "Without the need for foolish things like romantic love..."
"Or keeping your daughter's spirit at bay from the Western Gate..." said Scarab, looking at her.
"How do you..."
"My dear, you are but a child. I know that spell that gives you your supposed immortality. As long as you have a daughter to pass your soul onto, you grab another lifetime. But your daughter's soul is not willing to leave its body for yours."
"My daughter knows that only when I have restored the memory of my mother Hatshetsup then I can bring her through the western gate again..."
"But it takes you more power each time to invoke the spell," laughed Scarab. "And Anubis is tired of your games at cheating death. Soon you will have no choice but to remain in that body permanently."
"It's better than crawling around in that shell you have," she spat, hurling the tumbler at the wall towards him. Nimbly Scarab gestured, and the glass shattered into a million tiny fragments.
"Then we agree on our mutual interest. A truce?"
"For now," she said. "But be careful. Any treachery and I will retaliate."
"I could say the same, Princess," chuckled Scarab, as he turned away. "You and I are much alike."
For the second time in many hours Mennehotep opened her eyes. Gratefully she noted the familiar grain of her own sarcophagus. Had it all been an intense dream?
Familiar voices echoed in a stony space. She could tell from the reverberation. It sounded like a child's and a woman's. Slowly she swung open the lid of her sarcophagus, and peeped out. There was the familiar light of the noonday sun as it slipped to the horizon. And the first stars were winking on. Isis had risen two degrees from the horizon by now.
And she wore her Egyptian gown and headdress once more. Stiffly she felt her leg. It was sore, but functional. So it had not been a dream after all. All around her were the belongings in her small chamber they'd given her. For it was Nefer-Tina that said a Princess should have her own room.
Sometimes she wanted to grit her teeth in frustration. Why did they have to treat her differently? After all, she had proved her worth in battle. And still she liked the comforts her stature provided, such as their constant devotion and attention. But she paid a price for this. And there was a lonely spot that could never be filled. Not even by a certain Scribe.
From beneath her robes she felt the familiar vials. There were a few left. She turned to her bench, and proceeded to mix up her various batches.
Far below, Rath struggled with half a scroll, and a text he didn't comprehend. Lyris watched his efforts with her usual amusement. "Are you almost done?" she asked.
"Almost," he gritted, focused on the task at hand.
"Funny. You've been almost done for the past hour," laughed Lyris.
"Don't you have something better to do than taunt me?" he hissed, turning on her. "Writing an ode to a grecian urn or something?"
"But it's so much fun watching you translate," she giggled. "After all, didn't you say to learn the written word was worth more than the babbling of a muse?"
"I said no such thing..." he said, eyes blazing.
"Oops," said Lyris. "I suppose it wasn't you... after all..."
"What are you implying?" Rath demanded, as she backed away towards the door.
Lyris was in good spirits today. Rath was his usual grouchy self, and it gave her pleasure to see him squirm for a change. Ever since this whole crush on the Princess had seized him, he'd been preoccupied. At firstvLyris was dismayed at the thought that she was no longer in his thoughts. But then she saw the good in the situation. At last Rath had to face that he had feelings for a woman other than Chandra. That made him uncomfortable. She gave him no rest, for she was just as arrogant and learned as he. After all, if he could love a Princess, why could he not love a Muse?
And when Kara was defeated, Mennehotep had no reason to remain. For duty was most important to her. The sooner Kara was gone, the sooner Mennehotep would join her family across the western gate. Lyris was very sure she wanted Kara to be punished. Lyris was patient. Very patient. Besides, Mennehotep had saved her life. That was a debt Lyris intended to pay in full.
Armon carried a tray loaded with various fruits. Lyris grabbed a few figs, and tossed them in the air. Appreciatively Armon watched as she juggled each, before popping them into her shapely mouth. "You are happy today," he said.
"I am happy every day," she laughed.
"Than you are not jealous..."
"My dear Armon, I have no idea what you're talking about..." she giggled, before pushing past him to the main gallery of the Sphinx.
Ja-Kal and Presley fussed over a net and fishing poles. Ever since the father's day trip Presley's interest in fishing had grown from indifference to tolerance. Nefertina busied herself with watching the evening news. Just what traces they could find of Scarab over the spirit box?
Lyris landed neatly into the chair next to her friend. "What's up, Rys?" the charioteer asked.
"Oh, everything, Nef," she smiled. "Life is good."
"You're just happy that Rath is back," said Nefer-Tina.
Armon knocked carefully at the Princess' door, while balancing the tray on his head. He'd eaten most of the fruit, but had carefully set aside some for her.
"Come in," said her melodious voice.
"I have dinner for you, your highness," he said kindly.
"I thank you, good fighter," she smiled, looking up from her brews.
"What are you cooking?" he asked, sniffing the air.
"Nothing that can be eaten, Armon," she said. He placed the tray nearby.
"Oh, a pomegranate," she breathed, eyeing the succulent red morsels that glistened from half a yellow sphere. "I have not seen one for so long..."
"I thought you might forget to eat," he said. "Rath does all the time. When he is in his chambers..."
"You are very thoughtful, Armon," she said. He blushed a decided shade of purple.
"What are you making?"
"Oh, just stocking up on my special brews, for combat. You never know when they might come in handy."
"Sounds important. I must go. Presley's bringing hamburgers, and they may miss me..." said Armon.
"Where's Rath?" asked the Princess.
"He is reading that tablet you found. But I do not think very well."
"Thanks for the pomegranates," she smiled, her mouth full of the seeds as he vanished.
"Why didn't he wake me?" she asked, absently.
"He did not wish that you be disturbed," said Armon, popping his head around the door again.
"How considerate of him," Mennehotep muttered as the fighter once again vanished.
Rath had amassed an audience by now as he fussed over the text. "You know," said Presley. "You could have gotten Minnie to read it."
Lyris and Nefertina both watched, amused. The Charioteer could swear she saw a mischevious look in her friend's turquose eyes.
"I said she was not to be disturbed, and I meant it," he huffed. "And I am perfectly capable of translating this spell... after all Ashake did teach me a bit of the language!"
"But she read it in the first place," said Presley "And wouldn't it save you time to..."
"If she wasn't here, the task would fall into my capable hands regardless..." he began, but then stopped as his words hit silence. For Mennehotep stood there in the doorway, her serpent tiara gleaming in the torchlight.
"I think we'd better check the Hot-Ra," said Nefer-Tina to Armon.
"It is running fine," he protested, but shushed when Ja-Kal glared at him.
Nefer-Tina smiled, and turned around. Rath turned pale. "Er... Princess.. Er Menne... nice to see you up and about."
"For Isis sake Rath, what are you doing?" she asked, anger in her onyx eyes.
"I... didn't realize you'd risen..." he said.
"What did we talk about, mere hours ago..."
"I... am sorry, your ma... I mean, Mennehotep. I simply thought...."
"You thought simply all right," she said, folding arms over her breast. The tension in the room could be cut with a sword. Rath's eyes nervously darted between those of Ja-Kal, and those of Mennehotep. Like a statue she stood there, rigid as he visibly squirmed.
"Please, it's all yours," he said, stepping aside.
"Thank you, Rath," she said, anger replaced with a sense of pride. "That was all I wanted."
Rath breathed a sigh of relief. So did the other mummies present. Her eyes flickered over the text as she read aloud in an ancient tongue.
"One question," said Ja-Kal. "Where did you learn to read that language? It is not even known to our Scribe."
"That is simple, Hunter," she said. "When I was young, many emissaries came to my mother's court to pay tribute. And they brought their knowledge with them. It was decided that Kara and I should learn as much from them as we could."
"But does Kara know the writing well?"
"No. She didn't have the patience to learn," sniffed Mennehotep, giving an expression worthy of Rath for a moment. "And it was rather complicated."
"Oh, by Osiris this is rich," giggled Nefer-Tina.
"And I remembered this very stone. It was what made me want to study Alchemy in the first place. I saw freedom, for at last I had knowledge that no one could control but me. And believe me my life was under constant control from day one."
"Forbidden knowledge can be deadly," said JaKal. "Once you taste its fruit, its thirst drives you to take actions far beyond..."
"There was a reason few knew this language," said Rath. "There are some spells known only to a privileged few. And this elixer was made by someone well known to me. The lady Ashake herself..."
"Great Bastet," said Nefer-Tina.
"Was said to grant immortality with but one sip."
"That's impossible," said Ja-Kal. "Even for one of us."
"Immortality," said Mennehotep. "The ultimate prize of alchemy."
"And Scarab wanted it badly enough..." said Ja-Kal, blue eyes grim. "And we must assume now that he will stop at nothing to get this stone."
"Most assuredly yes," said Rath. "And we must be certain he never gets it."
"What is the final ingredient?"
"The soul of a member of the Royal house," said Mennehotep.
"That's just great," muttered Presley.
"But instead of having to wait for an eclipse, Scarab could use the formula whenever he wants," said Rath.
"But that means Kara could be in jeopardy," said Mennehotep.
"How so?" asked Ja-Kal.
"Her soul is in that poor woman's body. And she is living..."
"But yours..." said Ja-Kal.
"I am in a mummified form," said Mennehotep. "It works better if the soul is taken from a living donor like Rapses or Kara."
"So if Scarab teams up with Kara, he's already holding one of the cards," said Presley. Everyone looked at him, puzzled.
"I think he means that Scarab might have an advantage over us if he meets up with her," said Nefer-Tina.
"But my sister knows that he'd double-cross her," said Mennehotep. "He may try to use her soul for the potion, if he finds out."
"Then he'd leave me alone," said Presley. "Cause you didn't say the formula needed a Pharaoh's soul."
"That's right. A member of the Royal family is all he requires. But since he can't read demotic..."
"Hey," said Armon. "What if there is some one else that can?"
"Who?" asked Mennehotep.
"He's right," said Rath. "The archaeologists studying ancient texts have made remarkable progress. Every day they discover keys to unlocking new languages. If there is a person who can read this, we are all in danger."
"We must find Kara, or anyone else who can read these runes," gasped Mennehotep.
"My mom knows a lot of language professors," said Presley. "And I can get a list."
"Why don't we just destroy the wretched thing?" asked Nefer-Tina. Everyone regarded her with some shock at the simple solution.
"This elixir could save lives," said Mennehotep.
"How? What's the use of making anyone immortal?" asked Lyris.
"That only happens if the elixir is used on someone in full health," said Mennehotep. "But this could be used to save a life..."
"But if it takes a soul to make it..." said Lyris. "What good is it? A life for a life?"
"If one was old and willing to use the formula to save a member of their court..."
"She has a point..." said Ja-Kal. "If Scarab ever gets the stone..."
"But it is knowledge that can be used..." protested Mennehotep. All eyes fell on her. She sighed, and looked towards Rath, appealing for his advice.
"It is a shame, but the knowing must be destroyed," he said sadly. "For Ashake would wish it to be so..."
"Think of Kara," said Nefer-Tina. "You said she would stop at nothing to get what she wanted, even put her friends and family in danger. Do you want that hanging over your head?"
"I love my sister, even thought she hurts me still," muttered Mennehotep. "Yet the thought that Scarab would kill her to live forever is a frightening prospect."
"Even if she deserved it," muttered Presley. Ja-Kal put a hand on his shoulder, gripping it tightly.
Slowly she sighed. Then picked up Rath's sword in one hand, and the tablet in the other. Carefully she placed the tablet on the floor. With a mighty swing she hefted Rath's sword aloft. It crashed down on the tablet, sending a mass of sparks all over the place. The brittle clay shattered into hundreds of fragments that joined the dust on the chamber floor. She handed the sword back to the Scribe.
Turning to Lyris, she said, "Some knowledge is best not written down. For it can fall into the wrong hands. But the Bard can know what stories to tell, and which to not tell."
"At last, you're learning," smiled Lyris, patiently regarding her with softness in her turquoise eyes.
"I suppose, there are some things worth remembering, that remain alive when they are not written down or captured in words," said Rath slowly, resting a hand on his mystic blade, for want of a table to lean against.
"And there are always new and better answers to be found," said Mennehotep, crossing to the other table. Her hands found the Chemistry textbook she'd checked out so long ago. Perhaps she could catch up on the new Science of this time.
Rath drew in a deep sigh as he thought of Ashake again. His dear one, his Ka. A distant spell captured from the past was now forever secret. And he could imagine that is just how she would have wanted it. But what exactly did Lyris have up her sleeve? Ever since she'd woken up he'd not known a moment's peace!
End.
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