Part Five
As soon as possible, Rick called a halt and led his wife and son downstairs, where Celia remained with Anck and Jonathan. Evy took her favorite seat, while Alex sat at his mother's feet. During that meeting, it was decided that Rick would take the first shift. Evy protested and Celia gently reminded her that Ardeth wanted her to take care of her child. Evy glowered at her, muttering, "Oooh, I should have known you'd play dirty!"
Celia ignored her and told Rick in a monotone that she would take the next shift. Which meant, despite her relief at the train station, that he wasn't off the hook. Well, he would live with that. Since Evy would take the shortest and less-frequent shifts, Jonathan drew up a schedule. Rick didn't pay much attention. He said what he needed to be said, and now he had work to do. He returned to the bedroom, where Ardeth lay so still.
Now that everyone else knew what they were doing, Rick's priority was taking care of Ardeth. The basin rested beside the bed, but needed more water. Before too much longer, they would need more ice cubes. And once he refilled the basin, Rick went back to work. He was aware of the ghostly presence of Anck-su-namun, who never seemed to be far from Ardeth.
About four hours into tending his friend, Rick had enough, and asked, "You enjoying this, lady?" He looked up from sponging Ardeth's arms, to stare at the ghost. She glared at him, and Rick continued in a cold voice, "He is a Med-jai. . .descendant of the guys who cursed your Imhotep. Figured you would enjoy seeing him all helpless." Now she was virtually trembling with suppressed rage.
"I am enjoying this, O'Connell, as much as you are. Actually, you may be enjoying this more. After all, have you not wished to pay back my nephew's namesake many times, for putting your wife and child into danger?" she fired back. Rick straightened up, glaring at her, but Anck-su-namun continued, "I think you enjoy having him at your mercy, when he can do nothing to defend himself against your attacks!"
Why, that little bitch! An image burst into Rick's mind, of this woman stabbing his wife at Ahm Shere, and Rick started forward. He didn't get too far. . .because the dreams of the previous night returned to haunt him. He saw Meela stabbing Ardeth instead, and just to make sure, Rick looked back at his friend. No. . .no scars under his navel, though there were recent scars on his torso, thanks to Khaldun.
But the image reminded him. Rick shook his head, saying, "Forget it. You're not worth it. And right now, Ardeth needs me." Rick stopped, a curious tightness in his throat. *Ardeth needs me.* He looked at his unconscious friend, seeing the scars from the battle with the Mummy Warrior. This wasn't the first time Ardeth needed him. . .but this would be the first time Rick didn't fail him.
There was a long silence as he dipped the washcloth into the icy basin, squeezed the water out, then began carefully washing Ardeth down again. All the while, he studied Ardeth for any sign of waking. There should have been. The water was damn cold. . .it hurt Rick's hand, just to dip the washcloth into the water. It wasn't being applied to sensitive areas of his naked (or semi-naked) body. Ardeth should be waking up.
But he wasn't, and Rick didn't know what to do about it. He looked at the clock, startled to see that it was almost five pm. Not that he paid much attention. He wasn't really hungry, and besides, he didn't want to leave Ardeth. He dropped the washcloth in the basin for a moment and sat down beside his friend on the bed. Rick groaned as his back popped, then nearly laughed at Anck's disgusted expression.
Then he remembered he wasn't paying attention to her, and looked back at Ardeth. He put his hand on his friend's right shoulder. He couldn't bring himself to touch Ardeth's left shoulder, not when he could still see the scar meant for his wife. He whispered, "C'mon, buddy, time to wake up. Understand? I want you to open your eyes, ask why you're only half- dressed, and start yelling at me. You're your eyes, Ardeth."
"Would that make you feel better, O'Connell?" Anck asked, appearing on the opposite side of the bed. Rick glared at the woman, who continued contemptuously, "It is all about you, is it not? About your family, about your wife, about your child. . .about making you feel better. At what point, O'Connell, do you think of someone other than yourself?" The words hit too close to home for the American, and Rick didn't like that.
"Oh, bite me!" Rick fired back, then tried to ignore her. 'Tried' was the operative word, but the words rang in his mind. Was this still about him? Was he trying to get Ardeth better, just so he could apologize to his friend, and then return to the way things were? That wasn't possible. He knew that. But the question she asked haunted him. *Was* this about him? About making himself feel better? Or was it about taking care of Ardeth? He wasn't the only one who noticed his non-answer. . .of course.
"That is no answer. I can tell you why I care for Ardeth. I care for him because he bears the name of my sister and my nephew, because he carries the soul of Rameses, my friend. I care for him because he is a good husband who loves my best friend. But most of all, I care for him because he is a just, compassionate man. Which brings us back to the original question. Why do you care for him?" Anck challenged.
Rick couldn't answer her. Because everything he would say came back to what Ardeth did for his family. . .and yet, he knew Ardeth cared for him. Why? What did Rick ever do for him? Yeah, they fought side by side, because Rick's aims were the same as Ardeth's during Imhotep's first rising. But what did Rick, on a personal level, ever do for Ardeth? Why this ferocious loyalty which Ardeth demonstrated time after time? And. . .why could Rick not accept that loyalty, why did he doubt it, even now?
. . .
Her legs refused to move. Oh, she could work her leg muscles. . .but each time she tried to stand up, her legs would give way. Her husband needed her, and she could go nowhere. Evy was taking a much needed nap. Rick was busy taking care of Ardeth. Anck had to go away. . .the energy required to make herself whole drained her. She needed to regain that energy.
So Celia was alone, still on the davenport. She was alone, and she couldn't get up. Her legs were too rubbery. Plus, there was a dull ache in her knees, which made Celia think she injured them when she tried to catch Ardeth at the train station. She tried, oh yes, she tried. . .but she failed. At least she was able to break his fall, and kept him from hitting his head. Or worse. There was that comfort, small as it was.
The young bride found a blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders. She was cold. She was cold, and frightened, and her legs wouldn't stop shaking. And if she was totally honest with herself, she felt a little sick. But Ardeth. . .oh, goddess, Ardeth. Celia shook in the warmth of the blanket, feeling her husband's dead weight in her arms. She saw how pale he was, of course. How could she not?
She should have insisted that they remain at the O'Connell manor after his dizzy spell. She knew he wasn't feeling well. She should have never. . .Celia stopped , clenching her teeth. It did no good. And as she told Ben, Ardeth was stronger than she, even as sick as he was. He determined that they would leave today, and Celia couldn't talk him out of it. Which didn't prevent her from wishing she tried harder. It seemed that she wasn't immune to the 'what might have beens,' regardless of what she told Anck.
Would have, could have, should have. But in the end, the regrets didn't do anything for Ardeth. . .which was probably the only reason she didn't lash out at Rick O'Connell. No, that wasn't the only reason. . .it was one of many. She was happy to see him, happy that he came after them. She wasn't alone any more, someone could help her to take care of Ardeth. She didn't know why he came. . .but it didn't matter.
Then there was the matter of. . .well, it would have been a waste of energy. Celia was running very low on that precious material. She hadn't forgiven him for what he had said the previous day, but lashing out at him while he was trying to help was a luxury she couldn't afford right now. If she lashed out at him, she would have no strength of her own, strength which her husband desperately needed. . .and if she lashed out at him, he might leave. For Ardeth's sake, for her own, she would keep her anger to herself.
At least for now. Celia took a deep breath. Try this again. She put her hand on the side of the davenport and pushed herself to her feet. And yet again, her legs gave out. She collapsed again, and this time, Celia punched the cushion beside her with a barely muffled cry of frustration. Never before had she been in this situation. Never before had she felt this helpless. At least when Carstairs sent his goons after her, she could run.
Ardeth was hurt before, more than once, in the six months since their first meeting. He was hurt once because of her. Then, guilt kept her from his side. . .she wondered if she was being punished for that by being unable to go to her husband, now when he needed her so much. She heard her grandmother whisper, *no, sweet girl, it doesn't work like that. Your legs are shaky because you're going into shock. That's why you're so cold, why you feel sick. You aren't being punished.*
Annabelle never lied to her, but that didn't prevent Celia from struggling with this truth. Her grandmother sighed deeply and asked, *A more fitting question, my love, is why would Ardeth be punished? You and he reached the O'Connell house in time. You prevented the Guardians from harming Evy or Nefertiri. Why is Ardeth in this condition? Why is he comatose. . .for what reason would he be punished?*
Celia couldn't answer her grandmother, and Annabelle knew it. However, Celia's mind did focus on something else. Evy and Nefertiri? Her grandmother said, sounding more than a little sheepish, *The name of Evy's daughter. She has not yet told her husband. You must not tell him now, m'girl.* Nefertiri. Evy was naming her daughter, Celia's niece, Nefertiri.
It was the perfect name for the child. As if. . .as if things were coming full circle. The cycle which began three thousand years earlier was finally coming to a close, and a new beginning was at hand. Her grandmother observed, *You are more right than you know, granddaughter. You see, little Nefertiri is the reincarnation of Ardath's daughter Miriam. . .the child she lost. To bind the families together further. And this time, the little one will have a chance to live.*
Celia trembled a little, thinking about that. She remembered, with painful clarity, Ardath's miscarriage. Miriam, Khaldun's first victim in his reign of terror. Mother and daughter, now aunt and niece. Annabel continued, *There is more which you need to know, my dear girl. Have you wondered yet, why O'Connell was at the train station, looking for the two of you this morning?*
Not really. Celia assumed that Evy sent her husband after them when she found Celia's note. Annabelle admitted, *That was part of it, yes. But there was. . .something else.* Something else? What was that supposed to mean? Her grandmother continued, somewhat reluctantly, *You see, dear girl, last night. . .last night, all three of the adult members of this household received some dreams. Very important dreams, for they demonstrated to Evelyn O'Connell, her husband, and her brother, what might have been.*
What might have been. They were back to that, then. Annabelle continued, *It is fitting, that you had that conversation with Anck-su- namun. For she was one of the guides. She showed Jonathan Carnahan what might have been, while your previous incarnation showed Rick O'Connell, and Rameses showed Evy O'Connell. They saw what one small change can do to one's destiny.*
Come again? Her grandmother explained, *A minute change can be the difference between life and death for many people, Celia. Lock-nah. . .he who caused such pain to your husband and his family through the years. . .if his aim was knocked off, and Horus returned safely to the Med-jai, then many events would have changed. It matters not what those events were, but suffice to say. . .Horus' death saved many lives.*
That sounded ominous. Annabelle agreed, *Indeed. Another, not so minor change. . .this family learned how catastrophic things would have been, if Andreas Bey was in command of the Med-jai when Imhotep arose the first time. Something of which you have already heard.* Celia bit her lip. Yes, she had. From Garai, she learned that her husband, along with most of the world, would have died.
*So you see, my little love. . .Rick O'Connell received a lesson he'll not soon forget. He learned just how much he and his family owe your husband. Indeed, as soon he woke up, he intended to apologize to Ardeth, but Evy talked him out of it. . .reminding him that Ardeth needed his rest. Even now, Rick struggles between his guilt and his own anger with Ardeth for leaving, though he understand the reason for it,* Annabelle said.
Celia felt her lips twist into a parody of a smile. She didn't want to feel sympathy for Rick O'Connell. She didn't think she could feel anything about him at the moment. Annabelle murmured as Jonathan came downstairs, *I do not ask that you have pity on him, darling girl, or alleviate the guilt he feels by giving him a taste of his own medicine. I only want you to take pity on yourself. . .and Ardeth. Right now, you and your husband need the help of this family. Take what they offer. . .allow them to give you strength.*
Allow them to give you strength. Celia sensed her grandmother drifting away as Jonathan reached her. He knelt in front of her, as if she was Miranda's age, and took her hands. He said softly, "Rick's taking care of Ardeth, old mum. I don't think anyone is in the mood to eat right now. Is there anything I can do for you?" Her grandmother's words flowed through her mind. Take what they offer. . .allow them to give you strength.
Celia looked up at Jonathan and whispered, "Take me to my husband, Jon? My legs. . .my legs won't work." Jonathan looked at her, and Celia had no idea what he was thinking. Even now, he was changing so rapidly. She never met the bumbling clown described for her by Evy and Rick. . .she only knew the man who fought Meela to buy Alex time. She only knew the man who saved her husband's life in Ahm Shere.
And it was he who answered softly, "Then let's get you upstairs, old mum. Between seeing you when I woke up and seeing Rick, I'd much rather see a pretty lady like you. We don't want to traumatize Ardeth, after all!" Celia did the last thing she would have thought possible under the circumstances. She giggled. Jonathan grinned as he slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her upright, saying, "Now that's more like it!" Much to her amazement, Celia found that with Jonathan's aid, she *could* walk.
. . .
With Rick tending Ardeth, and Evy retiring to her room for a greatly- needed nap, Jonathan and Alex found themselves at loose ends. Jonathan convinced his nephew to take care of his mother, while he checked on Celia. He found her sitting in the exact same place he and the others left her, though not in the same position.
Celia looked at him with haunted eyes, and Jonathan knelt, taking her hands. He didn't know what to say at first, but then the words came. He said, "Rick's taking care of Ardeth, old mum, and you know Rick. He's got everything under control. Is there anything I can do for you?" Jonathan watched in concern as Celia's eyes glazed over, as if she wasn't really with him.
Then her gaze focused on him once more, reassuring him that where she went, Celia was now back. She whispered, "Take me to my husband, Jon? My legs. . .my legs won't work." Jonathan looked at her compassionately, seeing how this whole situation was affecting her. He saw her crying earlier, but now something else was setting in. She was going into shock, and her legs wouldn't hold her.
He smiled at her, answering, "Then let's get you upstairs, old mum. Rick's my brother-in-law, but between seeing you when I woke up and seeing him, I'd much rather see a pretty lady like you. We don't want to traumatize Ardeth, after all!" Celia looked at him in amazement, and then she giggled. It wasn't much of a laugh, but it was an attempt, and it was an attempt that warmed Jonathan's heart.
He smiled as he put his arm around her waist and carefully pulled her to her feet, saying, "Now that's more like it!" He was blessed with a ghost of the brilliant smile which always stole the air from Ardeth's lungs, then told her, "Now, I need you to hold onto the arm of the davenport for just a moment, dear girl, while I get a blanket." She obediently released his arm, grasping the arm of the davenport for all she was worth.
"W. . .where's Alex? And Evy?" Celia asked, her voice quavering. Jonathan didn't answer at first. . .he was removing the blanket hanging over the back of the davenport. Besides, he was concerned about the way her voice shook. She was swinging back and forth between maintaining her composure and fighting off her shock. She added, "And why are you getting a blanket?"
"Because, dear girl, Evy is asleep and she often forgets to cover up. And even if she did remember to cover up this time, I'm sure Ardeth will need it," Jonathan said lightly as he draped the blanket over his shoulder. Celia nodded, then the Englishman saw the corners of her mouth twitch. She was trying to keep from laughing, and Jonathan asked in a mock- indignant voice, "And just what is so funny, young lady?"
Her lips twitched, and she replied, her voice cracking with the strain of holding in her laughter, "I just. . .you put the blanket over your shoulder. Like you do when you're feeding a baby." Feeding a baby? And then it hit him, and Jonathan scowled at her. Well, really! Celia started giggling in earnest. Jonathan couldn't help himself. . .he started laughing as well. At least until she gasped, "Oh, wait until I tell Ardeth!"
As soon as she spoke, though, the laughter in her eyes died and she whispered, "I can't tell Ardeth. Jonathan, what's wrong with me? My husband may be dying, and I'm laughing!" Jonathan put his hands on her shoulders, not sure what to do.
Then a memory crept into his mind, and Jonathan replied, "You need to, dear girl. Laughter helps to keep you strong, and Ardeth needs your strength. You know, of course, about Alex being abducted last year. You know all of that. But in the midst of all the worry, and the fear for his life, we still found ways to laugh. Because you can't stop living. That would be the insult to your husband, darling Celia, not your laughter."
He smiled, adding, "I remember having a conversation with Ardeth on the dirigible. About the Spear of Osiris. I told him. . .I told him that the gods themselves couldn't take it from me. And it was at that point that Izzy yanked it right out of my hands." Celia's lips quirked again, and Jonathan continued, smiling at the memory, "We struggled over it, before he finally won. For then. And I heard Ardeth softly laughing."
Jonathan didn't realize it until later, of course. But once he did, and he realized that his antics made the too-serious Med-jai laugh. . .he was proud of himself. Right now, the wife of that Med-jai needed. . .something, and Jonathan would do whatever he could to provide what she needed. The words came to him a moment later, as he said, "So you see, dear girl. . .you are not betraying your husband. Not at all."
Celia closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. When she opened her eyes once more, she smiled bravely and said, "You've made your point." Jonathan grinned at her proudly. Such a bright girl she was! Celia continued, her eyes starting to sparkle once more, "But I'm still telling Ardeth about the blanket over your shoulder." Jonathan gave a shout of laughter which probably woke Evy, and put his arm around her shoulders.
"You do that, my dear, you do that," Jonathan chuckled, "by the time this is all over, I'm sure he'll welcome any and all amusing little anecdotes!" He led her upstairs, one step at a time, then continued, "In fact, I'm sure we can come up with some very good blackmail material to use against Rick." He glanced at Celia as he said this, and noticed the way her eyes lit up all over again. Her answering smile was downright wicked as she nodded.
That smile, however, disappeared as Jonathan led her into Ardeth's room. Celia inhaled sharply, and Jonathan realized that this was the first time she saw Ardeth since they brought him into the house hours earlier. She whispered, "He looks like he's just sleeping." Jonathan looked at her, concerned, and Celia continued in a soft voice, "I love waking up before he does. . .you know, having a four year old and all. I'll wake up first, and watch him sleep."
She was silent for a moment, as Rick paused in his work. He hadn't stopped sponging Ardeth down, and worry lines were now etched in his face, lines that went deeper than the last time Jonathan saw his brother-in-law. They would be there permanently, if Ardeth didn't wake up soon. He started to say something, but it was then that Celia noticed Ardeth's bare torso. She frowned and asked, "You undressed him? Then you saw. . ."
"The scars on his back. I didn't see them, but I knew about them. You've seen them?" Rick asked, no doubt remembering the night he and Jonathan learned about the scars. The night before Ardeth and Celia were married, the night they managed to get Ardeth drunk.
Celia responded with a rather impatient look, as she replied, "Of course I have. He's my husband, after all." Jonathan was on the point of asking what that had to do with anything, when it hit him. He felt his face burning, and almost choked on his tongue. He really did *not* need that image in his head. A quick glance at Rick told the Englishman that his brother-in-law was having similar problems.
Celia ignored them both and walked haltingly toward the bed. Jonathan shook himself out of his embarrassed state, and moved forward with her. Just in case. However, she reached the bed and sat down beside Ardeth's bare feet, lightly caressing the inside of his ankle. She whispered, "Oh love, I'm so sorry. I know you'll tell me that there's nothing to forgive, but I swear I'll make this right with you."
. . .
Rick O'Connell would have shot anyone for bringing it up. . .if they knew about it. . .but he began talking to Ardeth. After a while, it was necessary for him, even if his audience made no reply. He wasn't like Ardeth. . .he couldn't be quiet for extended periods of time. And Rick needed to get a few things off his chest. But he couldn't apologize right off. . .he needed to work his way toward that.
So he started with an innocuous topic. At least, considering what they were both going through, it was innocuous. Rick said, wiping the washcloth across Ardeth's forehead, "You know, you Med-jai scared the shit out of me the first time at Hamunaptra. I guess that was kinda the point, though, huh? I bet it usually worked. Until you came up against a group of determined treasure seekers. Those idiots thought you were protecting the gold. . .didn't understand that water was much more precious to you."
Rick paused, looking down at the water now filling the basin. He tried to imagine what it was like for Ardeth, lying in this bed, burning up with fever, and wondered if his friend would consider this use of water to be a waste. *Too bad if you do, buddy,* Rick thought, *you're worth every drop of water in this basin, and then some. Yeah. It only took me this long to figure that out. Hell, I never claimed to be as smart as Evy!*
"You know, I wonder sometimes. With all the people who died. . .did Daniels, Henderson, and Burns think it was worth it? The gold. . .was it worth their lives? Is life really that cheap to them? That's what always blew my mind about you. Until Imhotep rose. . .twice. . .and so many people died. A person would expect a desert warrior to hold life cheaply, but it's twice as dear to you. Maybe because of all the times you've had to kill to protect Hamunaptra? Makes sense to me," Rick went on.
He took a deep breath, studying his friend's slack features. Not for the first time, he wondered whom Ardeth really was. Chieftain, warrior, brother, husband, father, son. Friend. Scholar. What was it that was said while they were still in Egypt? Ardeth, as chieftain, was a combination of king, general, and seer. Rick was only now seeing how his perceived failure to keep Imhotep in his grave ate away at Ardeth's soul.
The American murmured, "I don't really know you, do I? I suppose I never really bothered to get to know you, the person. The man. You're always there for my family, whether I want you to be or not, and I'm just now starting to see that I have no idea whom Ardeth is. Why do you always return, no matter how badly I lash out at you? What the hell did I do, to deserve that kind of loyalty?"
Rick thought about that, then went on, "Or maybe it's not me, but Evy. There's always been a bond between the two of you, dating back to our second meeting. When you almost died protecting Evy. I suppose I've always been jealous of that bond. Alex told me that you lost your focus when Evy was taken, all those months ago. That's not like you, buddy. Not at all."
Though the words were teasing, the tone was not. Rick gazed down at this stranger who was his best friend. He thought back to that night. Why did he lash out at Ardeth? Was it simply his fear for Evy, or something more? He tried to think through those emotions and the memories, to find the truth. He spent very little time analyzing his emotions. He left that for other people. Until there was no place left to hide. Like now.
Rick said slowly, "You know, I think I have part of it figured out. I know I can count on you, buddy. No matter how many times I lash out, you'll be there. Succeeding where I fail. Maybe I resented you for that. Hell, I don't know. You were there, Evy was kidnapped, and you were the only person I could take out my anger. And you took it. You were in pain, feeling guilty. And you took it."
Rick stopped again, almost wishing for Anck-su-namun to return. Sparring with her was a helluva lot easier than baring his soul to Ardeth, even when his friend was unconscious. The adventurer placed the back of his hand against Ardeth's forehead, flinching when he felt the heat still radiating. And the basin was getting low on water, to say nothing of ice cubes. Alex was with Evy, and Evy was sleeping.
However, before he got too much further, Jonathan returned with Celia. Rick frowned, noticing something which escaped him earlier. Why was she leaning against Jonathan like that? He was on the point of asking that question, when the new bride murmured, "He looks like he's just sleeping. "I love waking up before he does. . .you know, having a four year old and all. I'll wake up first, and watch him sleep."
She was silent for a moment, and Rick straightened up, grimacing as his back protested. Celia tilted her head sideways, her eyes focusing on something in particular, and she asked with a frown, "You undressed him? Then you saw. . ."
"The scars on his back. I didn't see them, but I knew about them. You've seen them?" Rick asked. As soon as the words were out, he regretted even asking the question. Celia was Ardeth's wife, of course she saw those scars. Of course, as soon as that occurred to him, an unwelcome picture popped into his head. Rick grimaced. Right, like he really needed to imagine *that!*
Celia actually rolled her eyes, answering impatiently, "Of course I have. He's my husband, after all." Rick bit his tongue, especially when he saw Jonathan. Judging from the look on his brother-in-law's face, Jonathan had almost the exact same picture in his head that Rick did. The American couldn't figure out which was scarier. . .the picture or the knowledge that he and Jonathan were seeing the same things.
Celia ignored them both and moved cautiously toward the bed. Jonathan shadowed her moves. He caught Rick looking at him, and shrugged, mouthing, 'just in case.' However, it proved to be unnecessary. Celia reached the bed safely and sat down beside Ardeth's bare feet. She put her hand on his opposite ankle, her face a mask of worry. To Rick's surprise, she whispered, "Oh love, I'm so sorry. I know you'll tell me that there's nothing to forgive, but I swear I'll make this right with you."
Huh? Why on earth would she feel guilty? As if hearing his question, Celia said in a monotone, "I keep thinking that I could have kept him from getting so sick, if I talked him into staying here today. He expended so much energy. . .I kept telling him that we should come back here, but Ardeth didn't want to. Kept saying that he would be fine. Fine. Yeah, right, of course, he's really fine!"
Rick winced, hearing the bitterness in her voice, and couldn't help what he said next. He rested his hand over hers, telling her, "Celia, I know you think you could have done something differently. But this isn't your fault. I know Ardeth." *Though not as well as I should, obviously.* However, Rick forged ahead, "He doesn't know how to give up. He never has. The most he can do is a strategic withdrawal." Like at Hamunaptra. And even then, he left with a warning for them to leave. . .or die.
Celia just nodded, and Rick asked, "Jonathan, could you get me some more water in the basin, and more ice cubes?" Strangely enough, his brother-in-law didn't demur as he usually did. Instead, he nodded, quietly accepting the basin. He patted Celia's shoulder with his free hand, then left the room. If Rick didn't know better, he would swear this whole thing was affecting Jonathan as deeply as it was everyone else.
But Jonathan was the least of his concerns right now, and Rick turned his attention back to Celia. Her hair hid her face from view, and Rick sensed she was hiding from him. He asked quietly, "Now, are you trying to deal with this guilt because you honestly think you could have kept Ardeth from leaving, or because it's the best way you have of not ripping into me, both barrels?"
"Lashing out at someone who's trying to help is your style, Mr. O'Connell. Not mine," Celia answered shortly. Oookay, that answered that. Rick looked at the woman, noticing the way her thumb lightly stroked the inside of Ardeth's ankle. Celia continued bitterly, "Whether I like it or not, my husband's well-being is currently in your hands. And trust me, Mr. O'Connell. . .I don't like it. Not at all."
He could have, in Izzy's words, gone in 'feet first, guns blazing.' However, Rick realized there was nothing he could say that she would believe. She was there when he lashed out at Ardeth, blaming him for the attack of the Guardians. Celia knew that he had a habit of doing that. But it was then that Celia surprised him, by bringing up a piece of the past which he never even realized that she knew.
She once more tilted her head to one side, saying, "In Hamunaptra, when Anatol and I went to rescue Miranda, there was a funny little skeleton guarding the doorway to the resurrection chamber. He said something to me about his task being done, and his redemption begun. I have since found out that the skeleton belonged to someone named Beni Gabor. I believe you knew Mr. Gabor?"
Beni. That little stinkweed Beni was protecting Miranda? Rick just stared at Celia in shock, and the other American continued, "I was told about your. . .association with him. Including how he betrayed you at Hamunaptra, the first time. And you considered him your best friend, isn't that right?" Rick didn't answer, having a sick feeling that he knew exactly where she was going with this.
He was proved correct a moment later, when Celia asked very quietly, "Tell me, Mr. O'Connell. How much longer will you force my husband to pay for Beni Gabor's betrayal?" Rick looked away, wanting to deny her allegation. . .but he couldn't. And so, he returned his attention to sponging down Ardeth, hoping that it would be enough. But her question haunted him. Was he putting Ardeth in the same category as Beni?
. . .
He was freezing, and then burning. Tumbling over and over, his body consumed in pain. Voices mingled together. . .O'Connell (O'Connell?), Jonathan, Celia, little Alex. And Evelyn, always there, always present, her voice filled with anxiety. Over him? Yes, it would seem so. And touch. A familiar touch, which turned his blood to fire, a welcome touch. And yet, still he fell, unable to stop himself, unable to regain control over his fall. He would die when he hit, he was falling too fast, falling too far, falling. . .
*Easy, lad. . .I have you,* a familiar voice said. Ardeth slowly opened his eyes, to find Annabelle smiling at him tenderly. She cradled him in her arms, just as Celia did in the cab. But. . .but he was falling! What stopped him from falling? Annabelle answered, *It wasn't that hard, love. I just reached out my hand and grabbed you. Just lie still now. Your body has been through a terrible ordeal, and it's not over yet.*
A thousand and one different questions tumbled through Ardeth's mind. Namely, what happened to him? Annabelle, who was once more the young girl he remembered, could still read his mind. Her first words were, *You were poisoned, son. During the fight with the Guardians, one of them grazed your palm with his blade. Remember?*
He did. There was poison on that blade? Annabelle confirmed this, saying, *There was. It was that poison which caused you to fall ill. As for your perceptions, that is a little more difficult to explain, but I shall try. You are unconscious. . .but can sense what goes on around you. You can't respond, of course. If that makes any sense.* It didn't, but Ardeth accepted that as part of his life. He worried when things made sense. It meant something was very, very wrong.
Annabelle smiled, saying, *I like the way you think, young Ardeth. Then again, I always have. To continue, you will remain unconscious for an unknown amount of time. Unconscious, but not unaware. That is a very important distinction, son, because the others will be visiting you over the next few hours and days. If you focus your attention, you'll be able to hear what they say. And you'll need to pay attention.*
She paused, looking embarrassed, then added in an undertone, *Although, I would imagine that would be easier for you if you were sitting right side up.* With that, she gently grasped his shoulders and pulled him into a semi-reclining position. Ardeth blinked and looked around. He felt his jaw drop when he realized that he was looking down. . .at himself. He looked up at Annabelle, who just nodded sympathetically.
*I know this is a shock to you, son,* she said. Ardeth could only stare. They were there. O'Connell, and Jonathan, and most importantly, Celia. O'Connell. He was back at the O'Connell house! Annabelle said softly, *You collapsed at the train station. Celia's note to Evy told her where you were going, and that they might be needed. Rick O'Connell followed you to the train station, and he found you where you collapsed.*
What???? Ardeth knew his friendship with O'Connell was over. Why would the American come to the train station? Perhaps at Evelyn's request? Annabelle answered, *Not entirely. She gave him a nudge, but it was his decision. He planned to apologize to you this morning. However, you two were already gone by the time everyone woke up. Everyone, of course, except little Alex.* Now Ardeth did feel dizzy. O'Connell planned to apologize? No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't wrap his mind around that.
*I know, darlin,' it's hard to imagine Rick O'Connell apologizing to anyone. And all the gods know I wouldn't blame you if you are through with him. Come to think of it, they wouldn't blame you, either. That's why this is happening. . .oops,* Annabelle said, covering her mouth with her hand. Ardeth looked at her, trying to decide if he should question her further. At last, however, he gave up. There was no point in it.
It seemed that his decision relieved his wife's grandmother (odd, to think of this young girl as being anyone's grandmother), for she continued, *But, Ardeth. . .your friendship with Rick is only over if you want it to be over. He wants a second chance. The question is, do you have the energy to give him a second chance? The patience? The trust, that he won't hurt you again the way he did yesterday?*
Yesterday. What was different about last night, from all the times before? The answer was there almost immediately. All the times before, he never preempted his honeymoon in order to protect a friend, or a friend's wife. He and Celia planned to go to London eventually, but they wanted to take their time. The conversation which Ardeth overheard prevented that. That was the difference.
At what point did a man say, 'enough is enough,' and just let go? At what point did he decide that he was tired of not being good enough? Ardeth was nearing that point, if he hadn't already. He didn't care about receiving no credit for aiding the O'Connells. He didn't care anything about that! It didn't matter who got the credit, as long as the evil was neutralized and the world was safe. As long as his people were safe.
But he *was* fed up with O'Connell blaming him when something bad happened to his family. Tired of. . . Ardeth stopped the thought right there, knowing it did no good. But it was too late. He forgot that Annabelle could read minds. She said softly, compassionately, *Tired of Rick O'Connell blaming you for trouble hitting his family, when the trouble can be traced back to his wife's inability to leave things alone.*
Ardeth looked away, though he was sure it would do no good. Annabelle could read his mind, she could follow him wherever he went. Even if he focused on the figures of O'Connell, Jonathan, and his beloved wife. . .Annabelle would still be there. There was no avoiding her. Annabelle answered softly, *There's no shame in admitting that, Ardeth. Not just between the two of us. I'll never tell.*
Ardeth smiled at that, a smile that slowly died. Even if he admitted it, Evelyn was Evelyn, driven by her insatiable curiosity. She could no more stifle that curiosity than Ardeth could stop being a Med-jai. It was whom she was, what she was. It did no good to resent her, or be disappointed when she triggered yet another curse. Though Ardeth did feel a combination of a mixture of disappointment and resignation when he heard about the Necklace of Isis. Annabelle said softly, *No. And it says great things about you, Ardeth Bey, that you accept her as she is, with all the trouble she brings.*
Ardeth looked away from the looming confrontation between his wife and O'Connell, as his wife's grandmother continued, *But in the end, you did not remove that necklace from the temple. It was Evelyn O'Connell. Shhh. . .I know that you're reincarnated siblings. But I speak the truth. You did nothing wrong, and sooner or later, it was inevitable that O'Connell would push you too far.*
This time, Annabelle looked at the two figures remaining in Ardeth's bedroom, adding, *Just as it was fated that O'Connell would push my granddaughter too far. She just accused him of hiding behind an old betrayal, that of Beni Gabor. My Celia believes that Rick O'Connell is punishing you for something that happened before you two even met. And you know something? I think my grandbaby might be onto something.*
She paused, then said, *But that's not why I brought you here. I can do nothing about O'Connell, but there is something I can do for you. There are things about your wife that you need to know, which will explain the abysmal way she was raised. My Celia turned out pretty good, despite Bruce and Maddy's neglect. I love my daughter, but she was a terrible mother. Thing is. . .* Now Annabelle was hesitating, as if she wasn't sure she should actually tell him what she wanted to tell him.
But it didn't last long. Her eyes narrowed and her chin jerked up, the way Celia's did when she made a decision. Annabelle said, *It's time my grandbaby found out, once and for all, that she and Jason aren't to blame for the mistakes of their parents. Ardeth, Celia is not the oldest child. She has an older brother. And it was his loss which turned my daughter and son-in-law into people who shouldn't have been parents.*
Ardeth looked at the woman in astonishment. Annabelle nodded and continued, *Somewhere, my grandson is about to celebrate his fortieth birthday. His name is 'Galen,' and he disappeared when Celia was two. She doesn't remember him, of course. She did, until Maddy talked her into believing that Galen was just an imaginary friend. She couldn't bear to hear her little boy's name, and when the search for Galen was finally called off, Maddy shut out everyone. Her daughter, her husband. . .everyone.*
Yes, Ardeth could see that. He was a boy when Sanure ran down Anissa with her horse, but he remembered how withdrawn Anissa became. And then something occurred to him. From what Annabelle was saying, it sounded like Galen Ferguson was still alive. She said, *He is alive, and a day is coming, Ardeth, when you'll meet Galen. That's the other reason I'm telling you. You will meet him, in a manner similar to your first official meeting with Rick O'Connell. . .listen very carefully. YOU MUST NOT KILL HIM!*
Ardeth certainly had no desire to kill Celia's brother. Although it was tempting to do something permanent to Jason at times. However, he was Celia's brother, and that stayed Ardeth's hand. Usually. But if this man represented a threat to his people. . . Annabelle said more gently, *He will not be a threat, not a deliberate threat. More like, in the wrong place at the wrong time. You will know when the time is right.*
If she said so. Annabelle smiled at him, and Ardeth's breath caught in his throat. He never realized this before, but Celia inherited her grandmother's smile. Annabelle's expression changed, and she asked thoughtfully, *Tell me, Ardeth, would you like to hear stories about Celia when she was a little girl? It's only fair, since your mother shared similar stories about you with my granddaughter.*
Ardeth just smiled, and Annabelle added, *I should have guessed. Of course you do. Well, there are so many to choose from. I believe she told you about running around half-naked in our backyard. Then again, that was her grandfather's idea. Regardless of what Celia tells you, I was the disciplinarian in the family. Even though I usually didn't have to discipline the children. They were eerily well-behaved. But my husband. . .oh, my Thomas thrived on spoiling those two!*
She smiled, saying, *My Thomas is a beautiful man. That's one thing about our bloodline. The women choose uncommonly handsome men. I chose my Thomas, and Maddy chose her Bruce, and Celia chose her Ardeth. I think, though, that it skipped a generation. Because Thomas, and you, both have a strength which my son-in-law lacked. He was a small man, Ardeth. Small and weak, which always diminished his beauty.*
*She likes taking the long way around, lad. Just be patient,* said a new voice. Ardeth looked to his right, to find a man there. The man, who was around Ardeth's age, smiled at him, saying, *I'm Thomas, husband to Annabelle, and grandfather to that beautiful young lady currently giving Rick O'Connell hell. Or rather, as a future president will say. . .she's telling him like it is. He only thinks it's hell!*
Ardeth surprised himself by laughing. He liked that. It reminded him of his own dealings with the Elders, among others. Thomas groaned, *Oh, please, son. Please, please, please, you actually do give those idiots hell! They deserve it, of course. Especially when you consider that it took Imhotep's first rising before they would finally listen when you told them what needed to be done, if they wanted to keep the Med-jai effective. Then again, I suppose politicians are politicians, no matter where you go.*
*Enough, Thomas! For heaven's sake, give the boy a chance to breathe! Besides, I was getting ready to tell him about Celia when she was a little girl. You do remember the stories, don't you, my love? You remember spoiling our two younger grandchildren rotten?* Annabelle scolded. Ardeth exchanged a bemused look with Thomas, who just smiled indulgently, as if he was used to this.
*Yes, sweet girl, but as usual, you were taking the long way around, and thoroughly confusing Ardeth. That's why I showed up, of course. The boy just joined the family. . .he isn't used to us yet. So get on with your telling, Annabelle, before you confuse him any more. Hell, you're confusing me, and I've been married to you for fifty years!* Thomas retorted. Now that was enough to give Ardeth a headache.
Annabelle pursed her lips, as if she intended to argue the point, then decided against it. Instead, she turned her attention back to Ardeth, saying with an affectionate smile, *Our Celia. Oh, you should have seen her when she was ten years old. Such a bright little girl. . .a small adult, she was. It sometimes broke my heart, how grown-up she was. Care of her little brother fell to her most of the time, you know.*
Ardeth *did* know that, and he was starting to suspect that Annabelle's purpose here was to tell him something, and that something was not just about Galen Ferguson. Rather, he sensed that her stories were designed to teach him something about the woman who was his wife. And something which pertained to the current situation. Ardeth frowned, looking at himself. . .looking at his prone body, rather.
He looked at O'Connell, still struggling to wrap his mind around what Annabelle told him. O'Connell came to the train station for him and Celia. He came because he wanted to apologize. Thomas said quietly, *And that's part of the story, son. You have a hard time believing that, and for good reason. Well, when Celia was ten years old. . .and even today. . . she had a hard time believing that her parents were capable of loving her.*
Ardeth jerked his head back to look at his wife's grandfather, who continued, *Through her entire life, all our granddaughter has ever wanted was to be loved. Unconditionally, without reservations or a second thought. She wanted the security of knowing that no matter what she did, nothing would change our love for her. Until the day I switched streams, all my granddaughter wanted from me was that security.*
Ardeth nodded. Thomas gazed at him steadily, until he was truly certain that he was making himself clear. Once he was satisfied, Thomas continued, *But at the same time. . .at the same time, she learned from her parents that nothing was never good enough. She could be the most perfect child possible in an imperfect world. But because her parents closed their hearts after Galen was taken, nothing she did was good enough. As beautiful and bright and inquisitive and kind as she was. . .it wasn't enough.*
Again, Ardeth nodded. His wife's grandparents saw her as he did. He understood why she felt she had to prove herself worthy of him, though Ardeth had no such doubts. Thomas resumed, *It wasn't her fault, of course. Bruce couldn't forgive her for being a girl and having Galen's same adventurous spirit. He couldn't forgive her, because he couldn't forgive himself for Galen's disappearance. He shut out the daughter he adored until Galen vanished, because he couldn't face the possibility of losing her as well.*
This sounded familiar to Ardeth. Thomas smiled sadly, explaining, *Bruce fell in love with his daughter in the moment she was born. He saw how beautiful and smart and wonderful she was. But he didn't trust that she wouldn't be taken away from him, just as Galen did. He didn't trust in her, he didn't trust in his wife. He didn't trust in himself, and in the end, because Celia could only take so much hurt. . .he finally drove her away.*
And now, Ardeth was certain. They were no longer talking about Celia's father at all. Thomas smiled at him, the sadness gone, and said, *I knew you were a bright young man! Bright and strong in a way that my son-in-law never was. Yes, Ardeth. Now we have left the subject of my son- in-law Bruce. . .Celia finally severed her ties with her parents after they failed her one time too many. By that time, both my wife and I were no longer in a position to help her. She was alone, but she struggled her way through it.*
Thomas leaned forward, continuing, *And if you think this was a cheap way to get you to consider giving Rick O'Connell a second chance. . .you're right. I can't tell you the future. I can see some of it, but I can't tell you. When Celia cut off ties with her parents, she was eighteen years old, and she had no support. You're fifteen years older than she was then, and you do have the support she lacked. So the question remains. Do you have the energy, the patience, the desire, to give Rick O'Connell one last chance?*
*Before you answer that, Ardeth,* Annabelle put in, *think about this. Think about the similarities between Rick O'Connell and our son-in- law Bruce. Whether he can admit it or not, you are the best friend that man will ever have. He doesn't know how to deal with that. You would never betray him, and you know that. You have proven that a thousand times over, but he still doesn't know how to trust that. The question becomes. . .how much can you give, Ardeth, if he is willing to meet you halfway?*
Ardeth was willing to go to the ends of the earth, for someone who was willing to meet him halfway. But. . .here was the problem. He no longer trusted O'Connell to be willing. That was the whole problem, actually. Ardeth didn't trust O'Connell, and now he knew that O'Connell didn't trust him. That was the difference this time, difference from all the other times. Ardeth could no longer fool himself into thinking that O'Connell trusted him.
Yes, Ardeth was willing to go to the ends of the earth, if someone was willing to meet him halfway. Celia was willing. Evelyn was willing. But, now that he stopped and thought about it, O'Connell was never willing. He had no doubt that his wife's grandparents would try to nudge O'Connell, just as Evelyn nudged him into going to the train station.
He just wouldn't hold his breath for their success, to borrow a phrase from Celia. And so, with that conversation concluded, Ardeth decided that he would take Annabelle's advice and watched what would go on below him. Whatever else happened, he was sure it would be highly educational. As usual, Ardeth had no idea just how right he was.
As soon as possible, Rick called a halt and led his wife and son downstairs, where Celia remained with Anck and Jonathan. Evy took her favorite seat, while Alex sat at his mother's feet. During that meeting, it was decided that Rick would take the first shift. Evy protested and Celia gently reminded her that Ardeth wanted her to take care of her child. Evy glowered at her, muttering, "Oooh, I should have known you'd play dirty!"
Celia ignored her and told Rick in a monotone that she would take the next shift. Which meant, despite her relief at the train station, that he wasn't off the hook. Well, he would live with that. Since Evy would take the shortest and less-frequent shifts, Jonathan drew up a schedule. Rick didn't pay much attention. He said what he needed to be said, and now he had work to do. He returned to the bedroom, where Ardeth lay so still.
Now that everyone else knew what they were doing, Rick's priority was taking care of Ardeth. The basin rested beside the bed, but needed more water. Before too much longer, they would need more ice cubes. And once he refilled the basin, Rick went back to work. He was aware of the ghostly presence of Anck-su-namun, who never seemed to be far from Ardeth.
About four hours into tending his friend, Rick had enough, and asked, "You enjoying this, lady?" He looked up from sponging Ardeth's arms, to stare at the ghost. She glared at him, and Rick continued in a cold voice, "He is a Med-jai. . .descendant of the guys who cursed your Imhotep. Figured you would enjoy seeing him all helpless." Now she was virtually trembling with suppressed rage.
"I am enjoying this, O'Connell, as much as you are. Actually, you may be enjoying this more. After all, have you not wished to pay back my nephew's namesake many times, for putting your wife and child into danger?" she fired back. Rick straightened up, glaring at her, but Anck-su-namun continued, "I think you enjoy having him at your mercy, when he can do nothing to defend himself against your attacks!"
Why, that little bitch! An image burst into Rick's mind, of this woman stabbing his wife at Ahm Shere, and Rick started forward. He didn't get too far. . .because the dreams of the previous night returned to haunt him. He saw Meela stabbing Ardeth instead, and just to make sure, Rick looked back at his friend. No. . .no scars under his navel, though there were recent scars on his torso, thanks to Khaldun.
But the image reminded him. Rick shook his head, saying, "Forget it. You're not worth it. And right now, Ardeth needs me." Rick stopped, a curious tightness in his throat. *Ardeth needs me.* He looked at his unconscious friend, seeing the scars from the battle with the Mummy Warrior. This wasn't the first time Ardeth needed him. . .but this would be the first time Rick didn't fail him.
There was a long silence as he dipped the washcloth into the icy basin, squeezed the water out, then began carefully washing Ardeth down again. All the while, he studied Ardeth for any sign of waking. There should have been. The water was damn cold. . .it hurt Rick's hand, just to dip the washcloth into the water. It wasn't being applied to sensitive areas of his naked (or semi-naked) body. Ardeth should be waking up.
But he wasn't, and Rick didn't know what to do about it. He looked at the clock, startled to see that it was almost five pm. Not that he paid much attention. He wasn't really hungry, and besides, he didn't want to leave Ardeth. He dropped the washcloth in the basin for a moment and sat down beside his friend on the bed. Rick groaned as his back popped, then nearly laughed at Anck's disgusted expression.
Then he remembered he wasn't paying attention to her, and looked back at Ardeth. He put his hand on his friend's right shoulder. He couldn't bring himself to touch Ardeth's left shoulder, not when he could still see the scar meant for his wife. He whispered, "C'mon, buddy, time to wake up. Understand? I want you to open your eyes, ask why you're only half- dressed, and start yelling at me. You're your eyes, Ardeth."
"Would that make you feel better, O'Connell?" Anck asked, appearing on the opposite side of the bed. Rick glared at the woman, who continued contemptuously, "It is all about you, is it not? About your family, about your wife, about your child. . .about making you feel better. At what point, O'Connell, do you think of someone other than yourself?" The words hit too close to home for the American, and Rick didn't like that.
"Oh, bite me!" Rick fired back, then tried to ignore her. 'Tried' was the operative word, but the words rang in his mind. Was this still about him? Was he trying to get Ardeth better, just so he could apologize to his friend, and then return to the way things were? That wasn't possible. He knew that. But the question she asked haunted him. *Was* this about him? About making himself feel better? Or was it about taking care of Ardeth? He wasn't the only one who noticed his non-answer. . .of course.
"That is no answer. I can tell you why I care for Ardeth. I care for him because he bears the name of my sister and my nephew, because he carries the soul of Rameses, my friend. I care for him because he is a good husband who loves my best friend. But most of all, I care for him because he is a just, compassionate man. Which brings us back to the original question. Why do you care for him?" Anck challenged.
Rick couldn't answer her. Because everything he would say came back to what Ardeth did for his family. . .and yet, he knew Ardeth cared for him. Why? What did Rick ever do for him? Yeah, they fought side by side, because Rick's aims were the same as Ardeth's during Imhotep's first rising. But what did Rick, on a personal level, ever do for Ardeth? Why this ferocious loyalty which Ardeth demonstrated time after time? And. . .why could Rick not accept that loyalty, why did he doubt it, even now?
. . .
Her legs refused to move. Oh, she could work her leg muscles. . .but each time she tried to stand up, her legs would give way. Her husband needed her, and she could go nowhere. Evy was taking a much needed nap. Rick was busy taking care of Ardeth. Anck had to go away. . .the energy required to make herself whole drained her. She needed to regain that energy.
So Celia was alone, still on the davenport. She was alone, and she couldn't get up. Her legs were too rubbery. Plus, there was a dull ache in her knees, which made Celia think she injured them when she tried to catch Ardeth at the train station. She tried, oh yes, she tried. . .but she failed. At least she was able to break his fall, and kept him from hitting his head. Or worse. There was that comfort, small as it was.
The young bride found a blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders. She was cold. She was cold, and frightened, and her legs wouldn't stop shaking. And if she was totally honest with herself, she felt a little sick. But Ardeth. . .oh, goddess, Ardeth. Celia shook in the warmth of the blanket, feeling her husband's dead weight in her arms. She saw how pale he was, of course. How could she not?
She should have insisted that they remain at the O'Connell manor after his dizzy spell. She knew he wasn't feeling well. She should have never. . .Celia stopped , clenching her teeth. It did no good. And as she told Ben, Ardeth was stronger than she, even as sick as he was. He determined that they would leave today, and Celia couldn't talk him out of it. Which didn't prevent her from wishing she tried harder. It seemed that she wasn't immune to the 'what might have beens,' regardless of what she told Anck.
Would have, could have, should have. But in the end, the regrets didn't do anything for Ardeth. . .which was probably the only reason she didn't lash out at Rick O'Connell. No, that wasn't the only reason. . .it was one of many. She was happy to see him, happy that he came after them. She wasn't alone any more, someone could help her to take care of Ardeth. She didn't know why he came. . .but it didn't matter.
Then there was the matter of. . .well, it would have been a waste of energy. Celia was running very low on that precious material. She hadn't forgiven him for what he had said the previous day, but lashing out at him while he was trying to help was a luxury she couldn't afford right now. If she lashed out at him, she would have no strength of her own, strength which her husband desperately needed. . .and if she lashed out at him, he might leave. For Ardeth's sake, for her own, she would keep her anger to herself.
At least for now. Celia took a deep breath. Try this again. She put her hand on the side of the davenport and pushed herself to her feet. And yet again, her legs gave out. She collapsed again, and this time, Celia punched the cushion beside her with a barely muffled cry of frustration. Never before had she been in this situation. Never before had she felt this helpless. At least when Carstairs sent his goons after her, she could run.
Ardeth was hurt before, more than once, in the six months since their first meeting. He was hurt once because of her. Then, guilt kept her from his side. . .she wondered if she was being punished for that by being unable to go to her husband, now when he needed her so much. She heard her grandmother whisper, *no, sweet girl, it doesn't work like that. Your legs are shaky because you're going into shock. That's why you're so cold, why you feel sick. You aren't being punished.*
Annabelle never lied to her, but that didn't prevent Celia from struggling with this truth. Her grandmother sighed deeply and asked, *A more fitting question, my love, is why would Ardeth be punished? You and he reached the O'Connell house in time. You prevented the Guardians from harming Evy or Nefertiri. Why is Ardeth in this condition? Why is he comatose. . .for what reason would he be punished?*
Celia couldn't answer her grandmother, and Annabelle knew it. However, Celia's mind did focus on something else. Evy and Nefertiri? Her grandmother said, sounding more than a little sheepish, *The name of Evy's daughter. She has not yet told her husband. You must not tell him now, m'girl.* Nefertiri. Evy was naming her daughter, Celia's niece, Nefertiri.
It was the perfect name for the child. As if. . .as if things were coming full circle. The cycle which began three thousand years earlier was finally coming to a close, and a new beginning was at hand. Her grandmother observed, *You are more right than you know, granddaughter. You see, little Nefertiri is the reincarnation of Ardath's daughter Miriam. . .the child she lost. To bind the families together further. And this time, the little one will have a chance to live.*
Celia trembled a little, thinking about that. She remembered, with painful clarity, Ardath's miscarriage. Miriam, Khaldun's first victim in his reign of terror. Mother and daughter, now aunt and niece. Annabel continued, *There is more which you need to know, my dear girl. Have you wondered yet, why O'Connell was at the train station, looking for the two of you this morning?*
Not really. Celia assumed that Evy sent her husband after them when she found Celia's note. Annabelle admitted, *That was part of it, yes. But there was. . .something else.* Something else? What was that supposed to mean? Her grandmother continued, somewhat reluctantly, *You see, dear girl, last night. . .last night, all three of the adult members of this household received some dreams. Very important dreams, for they demonstrated to Evelyn O'Connell, her husband, and her brother, what might have been.*
What might have been. They were back to that, then. Annabelle continued, *It is fitting, that you had that conversation with Anck-su- namun. For she was one of the guides. She showed Jonathan Carnahan what might have been, while your previous incarnation showed Rick O'Connell, and Rameses showed Evy O'Connell. They saw what one small change can do to one's destiny.*
Come again? Her grandmother explained, *A minute change can be the difference between life and death for many people, Celia. Lock-nah. . .he who caused such pain to your husband and his family through the years. . .if his aim was knocked off, and Horus returned safely to the Med-jai, then many events would have changed. It matters not what those events were, but suffice to say. . .Horus' death saved many lives.*
That sounded ominous. Annabelle agreed, *Indeed. Another, not so minor change. . .this family learned how catastrophic things would have been, if Andreas Bey was in command of the Med-jai when Imhotep arose the first time. Something of which you have already heard.* Celia bit her lip. Yes, she had. From Garai, she learned that her husband, along with most of the world, would have died.
*So you see, my little love. . .Rick O'Connell received a lesson he'll not soon forget. He learned just how much he and his family owe your husband. Indeed, as soon he woke up, he intended to apologize to Ardeth, but Evy talked him out of it. . .reminding him that Ardeth needed his rest. Even now, Rick struggles between his guilt and his own anger with Ardeth for leaving, though he understand the reason for it,* Annabelle said.
Celia felt her lips twist into a parody of a smile. She didn't want to feel sympathy for Rick O'Connell. She didn't think she could feel anything about him at the moment. Annabelle murmured as Jonathan came downstairs, *I do not ask that you have pity on him, darling girl, or alleviate the guilt he feels by giving him a taste of his own medicine. I only want you to take pity on yourself. . .and Ardeth. Right now, you and your husband need the help of this family. Take what they offer. . .allow them to give you strength.*
Allow them to give you strength. Celia sensed her grandmother drifting away as Jonathan reached her. He knelt in front of her, as if she was Miranda's age, and took her hands. He said softly, "Rick's taking care of Ardeth, old mum. I don't think anyone is in the mood to eat right now. Is there anything I can do for you?" Her grandmother's words flowed through her mind. Take what they offer. . .allow them to give you strength.
Celia looked up at Jonathan and whispered, "Take me to my husband, Jon? My legs. . .my legs won't work." Jonathan looked at her, and Celia had no idea what he was thinking. Even now, he was changing so rapidly. She never met the bumbling clown described for her by Evy and Rick. . .she only knew the man who fought Meela to buy Alex time. She only knew the man who saved her husband's life in Ahm Shere.
And it was he who answered softly, "Then let's get you upstairs, old mum. Between seeing you when I woke up and seeing Rick, I'd much rather see a pretty lady like you. We don't want to traumatize Ardeth, after all!" Celia did the last thing she would have thought possible under the circumstances. She giggled. Jonathan grinned as he slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her upright, saying, "Now that's more like it!" Much to her amazement, Celia found that with Jonathan's aid, she *could* walk.
. . .
With Rick tending Ardeth, and Evy retiring to her room for a greatly- needed nap, Jonathan and Alex found themselves at loose ends. Jonathan convinced his nephew to take care of his mother, while he checked on Celia. He found her sitting in the exact same place he and the others left her, though not in the same position.
Celia looked at him with haunted eyes, and Jonathan knelt, taking her hands. He didn't know what to say at first, but then the words came. He said, "Rick's taking care of Ardeth, old mum, and you know Rick. He's got everything under control. Is there anything I can do for you?" Jonathan watched in concern as Celia's eyes glazed over, as if she wasn't really with him.
Then her gaze focused on him once more, reassuring him that where she went, Celia was now back. She whispered, "Take me to my husband, Jon? My legs. . .my legs won't work." Jonathan looked at her compassionately, seeing how this whole situation was affecting her. He saw her crying earlier, but now something else was setting in. She was going into shock, and her legs wouldn't hold her.
He smiled at her, answering, "Then let's get you upstairs, old mum. Rick's my brother-in-law, but between seeing you when I woke up and seeing him, I'd much rather see a pretty lady like you. We don't want to traumatize Ardeth, after all!" Celia looked at him in amazement, and then she giggled. It wasn't much of a laugh, but it was an attempt, and it was an attempt that warmed Jonathan's heart.
He smiled as he put his arm around her waist and carefully pulled her to her feet, saying, "Now that's more like it!" He was blessed with a ghost of the brilliant smile which always stole the air from Ardeth's lungs, then told her, "Now, I need you to hold onto the arm of the davenport for just a moment, dear girl, while I get a blanket." She obediently released his arm, grasping the arm of the davenport for all she was worth.
"W. . .where's Alex? And Evy?" Celia asked, her voice quavering. Jonathan didn't answer at first. . .he was removing the blanket hanging over the back of the davenport. Besides, he was concerned about the way her voice shook. She was swinging back and forth between maintaining her composure and fighting off her shock. She added, "And why are you getting a blanket?"
"Because, dear girl, Evy is asleep and she often forgets to cover up. And even if she did remember to cover up this time, I'm sure Ardeth will need it," Jonathan said lightly as he draped the blanket over his shoulder. Celia nodded, then the Englishman saw the corners of her mouth twitch. She was trying to keep from laughing, and Jonathan asked in a mock- indignant voice, "And just what is so funny, young lady?"
Her lips twitched, and she replied, her voice cracking with the strain of holding in her laughter, "I just. . .you put the blanket over your shoulder. Like you do when you're feeding a baby." Feeding a baby? And then it hit him, and Jonathan scowled at her. Well, really! Celia started giggling in earnest. Jonathan couldn't help himself. . .he started laughing as well. At least until she gasped, "Oh, wait until I tell Ardeth!"
As soon as she spoke, though, the laughter in her eyes died and she whispered, "I can't tell Ardeth. Jonathan, what's wrong with me? My husband may be dying, and I'm laughing!" Jonathan put his hands on her shoulders, not sure what to do.
Then a memory crept into his mind, and Jonathan replied, "You need to, dear girl. Laughter helps to keep you strong, and Ardeth needs your strength. You know, of course, about Alex being abducted last year. You know all of that. But in the midst of all the worry, and the fear for his life, we still found ways to laugh. Because you can't stop living. That would be the insult to your husband, darling Celia, not your laughter."
He smiled, adding, "I remember having a conversation with Ardeth on the dirigible. About the Spear of Osiris. I told him. . .I told him that the gods themselves couldn't take it from me. And it was at that point that Izzy yanked it right out of my hands." Celia's lips quirked again, and Jonathan continued, smiling at the memory, "We struggled over it, before he finally won. For then. And I heard Ardeth softly laughing."
Jonathan didn't realize it until later, of course. But once he did, and he realized that his antics made the too-serious Med-jai laugh. . .he was proud of himself. Right now, the wife of that Med-jai needed. . .something, and Jonathan would do whatever he could to provide what she needed. The words came to him a moment later, as he said, "So you see, dear girl. . .you are not betraying your husband. Not at all."
Celia closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. When she opened her eyes once more, she smiled bravely and said, "You've made your point." Jonathan grinned at her proudly. Such a bright girl she was! Celia continued, her eyes starting to sparkle once more, "But I'm still telling Ardeth about the blanket over your shoulder." Jonathan gave a shout of laughter which probably woke Evy, and put his arm around her shoulders.
"You do that, my dear, you do that," Jonathan chuckled, "by the time this is all over, I'm sure he'll welcome any and all amusing little anecdotes!" He led her upstairs, one step at a time, then continued, "In fact, I'm sure we can come up with some very good blackmail material to use against Rick." He glanced at Celia as he said this, and noticed the way her eyes lit up all over again. Her answering smile was downright wicked as she nodded.
That smile, however, disappeared as Jonathan led her into Ardeth's room. Celia inhaled sharply, and Jonathan realized that this was the first time she saw Ardeth since they brought him into the house hours earlier. She whispered, "He looks like he's just sleeping." Jonathan looked at her, concerned, and Celia continued in a soft voice, "I love waking up before he does. . .you know, having a four year old and all. I'll wake up first, and watch him sleep."
She was silent for a moment, as Rick paused in his work. He hadn't stopped sponging Ardeth down, and worry lines were now etched in his face, lines that went deeper than the last time Jonathan saw his brother-in-law. They would be there permanently, if Ardeth didn't wake up soon. He started to say something, but it was then that Celia noticed Ardeth's bare torso. She frowned and asked, "You undressed him? Then you saw. . ."
"The scars on his back. I didn't see them, but I knew about them. You've seen them?" Rick asked, no doubt remembering the night he and Jonathan learned about the scars. The night before Ardeth and Celia were married, the night they managed to get Ardeth drunk.
Celia responded with a rather impatient look, as she replied, "Of course I have. He's my husband, after all." Jonathan was on the point of asking what that had to do with anything, when it hit him. He felt his face burning, and almost choked on his tongue. He really did *not* need that image in his head. A quick glance at Rick told the Englishman that his brother-in-law was having similar problems.
Celia ignored them both and walked haltingly toward the bed. Jonathan shook himself out of his embarrassed state, and moved forward with her. Just in case. However, she reached the bed and sat down beside Ardeth's bare feet, lightly caressing the inside of his ankle. She whispered, "Oh love, I'm so sorry. I know you'll tell me that there's nothing to forgive, but I swear I'll make this right with you."
. . .
Rick O'Connell would have shot anyone for bringing it up. . .if they knew about it. . .but he began talking to Ardeth. After a while, it was necessary for him, even if his audience made no reply. He wasn't like Ardeth. . .he couldn't be quiet for extended periods of time. And Rick needed to get a few things off his chest. But he couldn't apologize right off. . .he needed to work his way toward that.
So he started with an innocuous topic. At least, considering what they were both going through, it was innocuous. Rick said, wiping the washcloth across Ardeth's forehead, "You know, you Med-jai scared the shit out of me the first time at Hamunaptra. I guess that was kinda the point, though, huh? I bet it usually worked. Until you came up against a group of determined treasure seekers. Those idiots thought you were protecting the gold. . .didn't understand that water was much more precious to you."
Rick paused, looking down at the water now filling the basin. He tried to imagine what it was like for Ardeth, lying in this bed, burning up with fever, and wondered if his friend would consider this use of water to be a waste. *Too bad if you do, buddy,* Rick thought, *you're worth every drop of water in this basin, and then some. Yeah. It only took me this long to figure that out. Hell, I never claimed to be as smart as Evy!*
"You know, I wonder sometimes. With all the people who died. . .did Daniels, Henderson, and Burns think it was worth it? The gold. . .was it worth their lives? Is life really that cheap to them? That's what always blew my mind about you. Until Imhotep rose. . .twice. . .and so many people died. A person would expect a desert warrior to hold life cheaply, but it's twice as dear to you. Maybe because of all the times you've had to kill to protect Hamunaptra? Makes sense to me," Rick went on.
He took a deep breath, studying his friend's slack features. Not for the first time, he wondered whom Ardeth really was. Chieftain, warrior, brother, husband, father, son. Friend. Scholar. What was it that was said while they were still in Egypt? Ardeth, as chieftain, was a combination of king, general, and seer. Rick was only now seeing how his perceived failure to keep Imhotep in his grave ate away at Ardeth's soul.
The American murmured, "I don't really know you, do I? I suppose I never really bothered to get to know you, the person. The man. You're always there for my family, whether I want you to be or not, and I'm just now starting to see that I have no idea whom Ardeth is. Why do you always return, no matter how badly I lash out at you? What the hell did I do, to deserve that kind of loyalty?"
Rick thought about that, then went on, "Or maybe it's not me, but Evy. There's always been a bond between the two of you, dating back to our second meeting. When you almost died protecting Evy. I suppose I've always been jealous of that bond. Alex told me that you lost your focus when Evy was taken, all those months ago. That's not like you, buddy. Not at all."
Though the words were teasing, the tone was not. Rick gazed down at this stranger who was his best friend. He thought back to that night. Why did he lash out at Ardeth? Was it simply his fear for Evy, or something more? He tried to think through those emotions and the memories, to find the truth. He spent very little time analyzing his emotions. He left that for other people. Until there was no place left to hide. Like now.
Rick said slowly, "You know, I think I have part of it figured out. I know I can count on you, buddy. No matter how many times I lash out, you'll be there. Succeeding where I fail. Maybe I resented you for that. Hell, I don't know. You were there, Evy was kidnapped, and you were the only person I could take out my anger. And you took it. You were in pain, feeling guilty. And you took it."
Rick stopped again, almost wishing for Anck-su-namun to return. Sparring with her was a helluva lot easier than baring his soul to Ardeth, even when his friend was unconscious. The adventurer placed the back of his hand against Ardeth's forehead, flinching when he felt the heat still radiating. And the basin was getting low on water, to say nothing of ice cubes. Alex was with Evy, and Evy was sleeping.
However, before he got too much further, Jonathan returned with Celia. Rick frowned, noticing something which escaped him earlier. Why was she leaning against Jonathan like that? He was on the point of asking that question, when the new bride murmured, "He looks like he's just sleeping. "I love waking up before he does. . .you know, having a four year old and all. I'll wake up first, and watch him sleep."
She was silent for a moment, and Rick straightened up, grimacing as his back protested. Celia tilted her head sideways, her eyes focusing on something in particular, and she asked with a frown, "You undressed him? Then you saw. . ."
"The scars on his back. I didn't see them, but I knew about them. You've seen them?" Rick asked. As soon as the words were out, he regretted even asking the question. Celia was Ardeth's wife, of course she saw those scars. Of course, as soon as that occurred to him, an unwelcome picture popped into his head. Rick grimaced. Right, like he really needed to imagine *that!*
Celia actually rolled her eyes, answering impatiently, "Of course I have. He's my husband, after all." Rick bit his tongue, especially when he saw Jonathan. Judging from the look on his brother-in-law's face, Jonathan had almost the exact same picture in his head that Rick did. The American couldn't figure out which was scarier. . .the picture or the knowledge that he and Jonathan were seeing the same things.
Celia ignored them both and moved cautiously toward the bed. Jonathan shadowed her moves. He caught Rick looking at him, and shrugged, mouthing, 'just in case.' However, it proved to be unnecessary. Celia reached the bed safely and sat down beside Ardeth's bare feet. She put her hand on his opposite ankle, her face a mask of worry. To Rick's surprise, she whispered, "Oh love, I'm so sorry. I know you'll tell me that there's nothing to forgive, but I swear I'll make this right with you."
Huh? Why on earth would she feel guilty? As if hearing his question, Celia said in a monotone, "I keep thinking that I could have kept him from getting so sick, if I talked him into staying here today. He expended so much energy. . .I kept telling him that we should come back here, but Ardeth didn't want to. Kept saying that he would be fine. Fine. Yeah, right, of course, he's really fine!"
Rick winced, hearing the bitterness in her voice, and couldn't help what he said next. He rested his hand over hers, telling her, "Celia, I know you think you could have done something differently. But this isn't your fault. I know Ardeth." *Though not as well as I should, obviously.* However, Rick forged ahead, "He doesn't know how to give up. He never has. The most he can do is a strategic withdrawal." Like at Hamunaptra. And even then, he left with a warning for them to leave. . .or die.
Celia just nodded, and Rick asked, "Jonathan, could you get me some more water in the basin, and more ice cubes?" Strangely enough, his brother-in-law didn't demur as he usually did. Instead, he nodded, quietly accepting the basin. He patted Celia's shoulder with his free hand, then left the room. If Rick didn't know better, he would swear this whole thing was affecting Jonathan as deeply as it was everyone else.
But Jonathan was the least of his concerns right now, and Rick turned his attention back to Celia. Her hair hid her face from view, and Rick sensed she was hiding from him. He asked quietly, "Now, are you trying to deal with this guilt because you honestly think you could have kept Ardeth from leaving, or because it's the best way you have of not ripping into me, both barrels?"
"Lashing out at someone who's trying to help is your style, Mr. O'Connell. Not mine," Celia answered shortly. Oookay, that answered that. Rick looked at the woman, noticing the way her thumb lightly stroked the inside of Ardeth's ankle. Celia continued bitterly, "Whether I like it or not, my husband's well-being is currently in your hands. And trust me, Mr. O'Connell. . .I don't like it. Not at all."
He could have, in Izzy's words, gone in 'feet first, guns blazing.' However, Rick realized there was nothing he could say that she would believe. She was there when he lashed out at Ardeth, blaming him for the attack of the Guardians. Celia knew that he had a habit of doing that. But it was then that Celia surprised him, by bringing up a piece of the past which he never even realized that she knew.
She once more tilted her head to one side, saying, "In Hamunaptra, when Anatol and I went to rescue Miranda, there was a funny little skeleton guarding the doorway to the resurrection chamber. He said something to me about his task being done, and his redemption begun. I have since found out that the skeleton belonged to someone named Beni Gabor. I believe you knew Mr. Gabor?"
Beni. That little stinkweed Beni was protecting Miranda? Rick just stared at Celia in shock, and the other American continued, "I was told about your. . .association with him. Including how he betrayed you at Hamunaptra, the first time. And you considered him your best friend, isn't that right?" Rick didn't answer, having a sick feeling that he knew exactly where she was going with this.
He was proved correct a moment later, when Celia asked very quietly, "Tell me, Mr. O'Connell. How much longer will you force my husband to pay for Beni Gabor's betrayal?" Rick looked away, wanting to deny her allegation. . .but he couldn't. And so, he returned his attention to sponging down Ardeth, hoping that it would be enough. But her question haunted him. Was he putting Ardeth in the same category as Beni?
. . .
He was freezing, and then burning. Tumbling over and over, his body consumed in pain. Voices mingled together. . .O'Connell (O'Connell?), Jonathan, Celia, little Alex. And Evelyn, always there, always present, her voice filled with anxiety. Over him? Yes, it would seem so. And touch. A familiar touch, which turned his blood to fire, a welcome touch. And yet, still he fell, unable to stop himself, unable to regain control over his fall. He would die when he hit, he was falling too fast, falling too far, falling. . .
*Easy, lad. . .I have you,* a familiar voice said. Ardeth slowly opened his eyes, to find Annabelle smiling at him tenderly. She cradled him in her arms, just as Celia did in the cab. But. . .but he was falling! What stopped him from falling? Annabelle answered, *It wasn't that hard, love. I just reached out my hand and grabbed you. Just lie still now. Your body has been through a terrible ordeal, and it's not over yet.*
A thousand and one different questions tumbled through Ardeth's mind. Namely, what happened to him? Annabelle, who was once more the young girl he remembered, could still read his mind. Her first words were, *You were poisoned, son. During the fight with the Guardians, one of them grazed your palm with his blade. Remember?*
He did. There was poison on that blade? Annabelle confirmed this, saying, *There was. It was that poison which caused you to fall ill. As for your perceptions, that is a little more difficult to explain, but I shall try. You are unconscious. . .but can sense what goes on around you. You can't respond, of course. If that makes any sense.* It didn't, but Ardeth accepted that as part of his life. He worried when things made sense. It meant something was very, very wrong.
Annabelle smiled, saying, *I like the way you think, young Ardeth. Then again, I always have. To continue, you will remain unconscious for an unknown amount of time. Unconscious, but not unaware. That is a very important distinction, son, because the others will be visiting you over the next few hours and days. If you focus your attention, you'll be able to hear what they say. And you'll need to pay attention.*
She paused, looking embarrassed, then added in an undertone, *Although, I would imagine that would be easier for you if you were sitting right side up.* With that, she gently grasped his shoulders and pulled him into a semi-reclining position. Ardeth blinked and looked around. He felt his jaw drop when he realized that he was looking down. . .at himself. He looked up at Annabelle, who just nodded sympathetically.
*I know this is a shock to you, son,* she said. Ardeth could only stare. They were there. O'Connell, and Jonathan, and most importantly, Celia. O'Connell. He was back at the O'Connell house! Annabelle said softly, *You collapsed at the train station. Celia's note to Evy told her where you were going, and that they might be needed. Rick O'Connell followed you to the train station, and he found you where you collapsed.*
What???? Ardeth knew his friendship with O'Connell was over. Why would the American come to the train station? Perhaps at Evelyn's request? Annabelle answered, *Not entirely. She gave him a nudge, but it was his decision. He planned to apologize to you this morning. However, you two were already gone by the time everyone woke up. Everyone, of course, except little Alex.* Now Ardeth did feel dizzy. O'Connell planned to apologize? No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't wrap his mind around that.
*I know, darlin,' it's hard to imagine Rick O'Connell apologizing to anyone. And all the gods know I wouldn't blame you if you are through with him. Come to think of it, they wouldn't blame you, either. That's why this is happening. . .oops,* Annabelle said, covering her mouth with her hand. Ardeth looked at her, trying to decide if he should question her further. At last, however, he gave up. There was no point in it.
It seemed that his decision relieved his wife's grandmother (odd, to think of this young girl as being anyone's grandmother), for she continued, *But, Ardeth. . .your friendship with Rick is only over if you want it to be over. He wants a second chance. The question is, do you have the energy to give him a second chance? The patience? The trust, that he won't hurt you again the way he did yesterday?*
Yesterday. What was different about last night, from all the times before? The answer was there almost immediately. All the times before, he never preempted his honeymoon in order to protect a friend, or a friend's wife. He and Celia planned to go to London eventually, but they wanted to take their time. The conversation which Ardeth overheard prevented that. That was the difference.
At what point did a man say, 'enough is enough,' and just let go? At what point did he decide that he was tired of not being good enough? Ardeth was nearing that point, if he hadn't already. He didn't care about receiving no credit for aiding the O'Connells. He didn't care anything about that! It didn't matter who got the credit, as long as the evil was neutralized and the world was safe. As long as his people were safe.
But he *was* fed up with O'Connell blaming him when something bad happened to his family. Tired of. . . Ardeth stopped the thought right there, knowing it did no good. But it was too late. He forgot that Annabelle could read minds. She said softly, compassionately, *Tired of Rick O'Connell blaming you for trouble hitting his family, when the trouble can be traced back to his wife's inability to leave things alone.*
Ardeth looked away, though he was sure it would do no good. Annabelle could read his mind, she could follow him wherever he went. Even if he focused on the figures of O'Connell, Jonathan, and his beloved wife. . .Annabelle would still be there. There was no avoiding her. Annabelle answered softly, *There's no shame in admitting that, Ardeth. Not just between the two of us. I'll never tell.*
Ardeth smiled at that, a smile that slowly died. Even if he admitted it, Evelyn was Evelyn, driven by her insatiable curiosity. She could no more stifle that curiosity than Ardeth could stop being a Med-jai. It was whom she was, what she was. It did no good to resent her, or be disappointed when she triggered yet another curse. Though Ardeth did feel a combination of a mixture of disappointment and resignation when he heard about the Necklace of Isis. Annabelle said softly, *No. And it says great things about you, Ardeth Bey, that you accept her as she is, with all the trouble she brings.*
Ardeth looked away from the looming confrontation between his wife and O'Connell, as his wife's grandmother continued, *But in the end, you did not remove that necklace from the temple. It was Evelyn O'Connell. Shhh. . .I know that you're reincarnated siblings. But I speak the truth. You did nothing wrong, and sooner or later, it was inevitable that O'Connell would push you too far.*
This time, Annabelle looked at the two figures remaining in Ardeth's bedroom, adding, *Just as it was fated that O'Connell would push my granddaughter too far. She just accused him of hiding behind an old betrayal, that of Beni Gabor. My Celia believes that Rick O'Connell is punishing you for something that happened before you two even met. And you know something? I think my grandbaby might be onto something.*
She paused, then said, *But that's not why I brought you here. I can do nothing about O'Connell, but there is something I can do for you. There are things about your wife that you need to know, which will explain the abysmal way she was raised. My Celia turned out pretty good, despite Bruce and Maddy's neglect. I love my daughter, but she was a terrible mother. Thing is. . .* Now Annabelle was hesitating, as if she wasn't sure she should actually tell him what she wanted to tell him.
But it didn't last long. Her eyes narrowed and her chin jerked up, the way Celia's did when she made a decision. Annabelle said, *It's time my grandbaby found out, once and for all, that she and Jason aren't to blame for the mistakes of their parents. Ardeth, Celia is not the oldest child. She has an older brother. And it was his loss which turned my daughter and son-in-law into people who shouldn't have been parents.*
Ardeth looked at the woman in astonishment. Annabelle nodded and continued, *Somewhere, my grandson is about to celebrate his fortieth birthday. His name is 'Galen,' and he disappeared when Celia was two. She doesn't remember him, of course. She did, until Maddy talked her into believing that Galen was just an imaginary friend. She couldn't bear to hear her little boy's name, and when the search for Galen was finally called off, Maddy shut out everyone. Her daughter, her husband. . .everyone.*
Yes, Ardeth could see that. He was a boy when Sanure ran down Anissa with her horse, but he remembered how withdrawn Anissa became. And then something occurred to him. From what Annabelle was saying, it sounded like Galen Ferguson was still alive. She said, *He is alive, and a day is coming, Ardeth, when you'll meet Galen. That's the other reason I'm telling you. You will meet him, in a manner similar to your first official meeting with Rick O'Connell. . .listen very carefully. YOU MUST NOT KILL HIM!*
Ardeth certainly had no desire to kill Celia's brother. Although it was tempting to do something permanent to Jason at times. However, he was Celia's brother, and that stayed Ardeth's hand. Usually. But if this man represented a threat to his people. . . Annabelle said more gently, *He will not be a threat, not a deliberate threat. More like, in the wrong place at the wrong time. You will know when the time is right.*
If she said so. Annabelle smiled at him, and Ardeth's breath caught in his throat. He never realized this before, but Celia inherited her grandmother's smile. Annabelle's expression changed, and she asked thoughtfully, *Tell me, Ardeth, would you like to hear stories about Celia when she was a little girl? It's only fair, since your mother shared similar stories about you with my granddaughter.*
Ardeth just smiled, and Annabelle added, *I should have guessed. Of course you do. Well, there are so many to choose from. I believe she told you about running around half-naked in our backyard. Then again, that was her grandfather's idea. Regardless of what Celia tells you, I was the disciplinarian in the family. Even though I usually didn't have to discipline the children. They were eerily well-behaved. But my husband. . .oh, my Thomas thrived on spoiling those two!*
She smiled, saying, *My Thomas is a beautiful man. That's one thing about our bloodline. The women choose uncommonly handsome men. I chose my Thomas, and Maddy chose her Bruce, and Celia chose her Ardeth. I think, though, that it skipped a generation. Because Thomas, and you, both have a strength which my son-in-law lacked. He was a small man, Ardeth. Small and weak, which always diminished his beauty.*
*She likes taking the long way around, lad. Just be patient,* said a new voice. Ardeth looked to his right, to find a man there. The man, who was around Ardeth's age, smiled at him, saying, *I'm Thomas, husband to Annabelle, and grandfather to that beautiful young lady currently giving Rick O'Connell hell. Or rather, as a future president will say. . .she's telling him like it is. He only thinks it's hell!*
Ardeth surprised himself by laughing. He liked that. It reminded him of his own dealings with the Elders, among others. Thomas groaned, *Oh, please, son. Please, please, please, you actually do give those idiots hell! They deserve it, of course. Especially when you consider that it took Imhotep's first rising before they would finally listen when you told them what needed to be done, if they wanted to keep the Med-jai effective. Then again, I suppose politicians are politicians, no matter where you go.*
*Enough, Thomas! For heaven's sake, give the boy a chance to breathe! Besides, I was getting ready to tell him about Celia when she was a little girl. You do remember the stories, don't you, my love? You remember spoiling our two younger grandchildren rotten?* Annabelle scolded. Ardeth exchanged a bemused look with Thomas, who just smiled indulgently, as if he was used to this.
*Yes, sweet girl, but as usual, you were taking the long way around, and thoroughly confusing Ardeth. That's why I showed up, of course. The boy just joined the family. . .he isn't used to us yet. So get on with your telling, Annabelle, before you confuse him any more. Hell, you're confusing me, and I've been married to you for fifty years!* Thomas retorted. Now that was enough to give Ardeth a headache.
Annabelle pursed her lips, as if she intended to argue the point, then decided against it. Instead, she turned her attention back to Ardeth, saying with an affectionate smile, *Our Celia. Oh, you should have seen her when she was ten years old. Such a bright little girl. . .a small adult, she was. It sometimes broke my heart, how grown-up she was. Care of her little brother fell to her most of the time, you know.*
Ardeth *did* know that, and he was starting to suspect that Annabelle's purpose here was to tell him something, and that something was not just about Galen Ferguson. Rather, he sensed that her stories were designed to teach him something about the woman who was his wife. And something which pertained to the current situation. Ardeth frowned, looking at himself. . .looking at his prone body, rather.
He looked at O'Connell, still struggling to wrap his mind around what Annabelle told him. O'Connell came to the train station for him and Celia. He came because he wanted to apologize. Thomas said quietly, *And that's part of the story, son. You have a hard time believing that, and for good reason. Well, when Celia was ten years old. . .and even today. . . she had a hard time believing that her parents were capable of loving her.*
Ardeth jerked his head back to look at his wife's grandfather, who continued, *Through her entire life, all our granddaughter has ever wanted was to be loved. Unconditionally, without reservations or a second thought. She wanted the security of knowing that no matter what she did, nothing would change our love for her. Until the day I switched streams, all my granddaughter wanted from me was that security.*
Ardeth nodded. Thomas gazed at him steadily, until he was truly certain that he was making himself clear. Once he was satisfied, Thomas continued, *But at the same time. . .at the same time, she learned from her parents that nothing was never good enough. She could be the most perfect child possible in an imperfect world. But because her parents closed their hearts after Galen was taken, nothing she did was good enough. As beautiful and bright and inquisitive and kind as she was. . .it wasn't enough.*
Again, Ardeth nodded. His wife's grandparents saw her as he did. He understood why she felt she had to prove herself worthy of him, though Ardeth had no such doubts. Thomas resumed, *It wasn't her fault, of course. Bruce couldn't forgive her for being a girl and having Galen's same adventurous spirit. He couldn't forgive her, because he couldn't forgive himself for Galen's disappearance. He shut out the daughter he adored until Galen vanished, because he couldn't face the possibility of losing her as well.*
This sounded familiar to Ardeth. Thomas smiled sadly, explaining, *Bruce fell in love with his daughter in the moment she was born. He saw how beautiful and smart and wonderful she was. But he didn't trust that she wouldn't be taken away from him, just as Galen did. He didn't trust in her, he didn't trust in his wife. He didn't trust in himself, and in the end, because Celia could only take so much hurt. . .he finally drove her away.*
And now, Ardeth was certain. They were no longer talking about Celia's father at all. Thomas smiled at him, the sadness gone, and said, *I knew you were a bright young man! Bright and strong in a way that my son-in-law never was. Yes, Ardeth. Now we have left the subject of my son- in-law Bruce. . .Celia finally severed her ties with her parents after they failed her one time too many. By that time, both my wife and I were no longer in a position to help her. She was alone, but she struggled her way through it.*
Thomas leaned forward, continuing, *And if you think this was a cheap way to get you to consider giving Rick O'Connell a second chance. . .you're right. I can't tell you the future. I can see some of it, but I can't tell you. When Celia cut off ties with her parents, she was eighteen years old, and she had no support. You're fifteen years older than she was then, and you do have the support she lacked. So the question remains. Do you have the energy, the patience, the desire, to give Rick O'Connell one last chance?*
*Before you answer that, Ardeth,* Annabelle put in, *think about this. Think about the similarities between Rick O'Connell and our son-in- law Bruce. Whether he can admit it or not, you are the best friend that man will ever have. He doesn't know how to deal with that. You would never betray him, and you know that. You have proven that a thousand times over, but he still doesn't know how to trust that. The question becomes. . .how much can you give, Ardeth, if he is willing to meet you halfway?*
Ardeth was willing to go to the ends of the earth, for someone who was willing to meet him halfway. But. . .here was the problem. He no longer trusted O'Connell to be willing. That was the whole problem, actually. Ardeth didn't trust O'Connell, and now he knew that O'Connell didn't trust him. That was the difference this time, difference from all the other times. Ardeth could no longer fool himself into thinking that O'Connell trusted him.
Yes, Ardeth was willing to go to the ends of the earth, if someone was willing to meet him halfway. Celia was willing. Evelyn was willing. But, now that he stopped and thought about it, O'Connell was never willing. He had no doubt that his wife's grandparents would try to nudge O'Connell, just as Evelyn nudged him into going to the train station.
He just wouldn't hold his breath for their success, to borrow a phrase from Celia. And so, with that conversation concluded, Ardeth decided that he would take Annabelle's advice and watched what would go on below him. Whatever else happened, he was sure it would be highly educational. As usual, Ardeth had no idea just how right he was.