Authors Note: After more than a year on hiatus I'm still surprised when I
get reviews for this story and even emails from people who want me to
finish it. I'm very flattered and have been suitably guilt tripped into
carrying on. So - for the literally ones of you who said you couldn't live
without knowing what happens - here is the story anew, heavy revisions
included and chopped into easy digestible pieces (chapters, to use the
technical term). Look out for forth coming chapters!
The Mummy: Revenge of the Scorned
Part One
Artefacts and boxes were scattered everywhere in the cold stone rooms and corridors that he travelled through. Trophies and coins were on tables, half unpacked statues were peaking out of crates, giving but a glimpse of their overall wonder. Jewels sparkled in the flickering lamp light so that they winked invitingly out from the piles of gold in which they nested. And not too far away from these precious beauties were their former owners - lifeless, desiccated corpses that lay in their coffins. Thousands of years old and yet still they watched him as he passed. Stared through him it seemed, seeing things he couldn't possibly imagine. Or maybe he could but just didn't want to.
O'Connell smiled slightly at himself. Few years ago he would have laughed at such superstitious bull. But that was before he had joined the foreign legion and gone to Hamunaptra in search of fortune and glory. Now he could never look upon these things as only the dried husks of once-humans. They were a threat he had to assessed. He was just paranoid, he guessed.
Near death experiences with three thousand year old corpses could make a man that way.
The Museum of Antiquities in Cairo was in chaos right now. A new tomb had been opened about twenty miles away, and the museum had been donated a great deal of the artefacts found. A plus point of having a patron on the expedition team, he imagined. The curator and his small staff were in the process of unpacking their new goods and putting them on display. O'Connell lost count of the number of times he was barged aside as busy workers came through carrying boxes or relics. Now he knew how the pinball in the machine felt. It took him ten minutes to find someone willing to stop and tell him where he might find the curator. The man apologised in broken English for their treatment of him, but apparently the findings were very exciting.
Not that O'Connell cared much. Treasure was his thing, not artefacts. Not history. The present was more his kind of time. It wasn't like he'd come to the museum to sight see, either. Hell, he'd only been here once before and that wasn't exactly been a pleasant visit. He'd never even been here to see Evelyn until now.
Going to the library as directed and finding the place seemingly empty, he headed for the curator's office by means of the signs on the wall. He knocked on the door smartly and a muffled voice from inside welcomed him in.
He found the curator, Mr Charlton, standing behind his desk with his head inside another box of treasures. The man appeared nice enough, although O'Connell had never really met him but in passing. Evelyn had sung his praises though, saying they were lucky to get such an intelligent and pleasant man after the death of the previous curator.
Charlton looked up, a bit perplexed and a little annoyed at the unexpected visitor, "Hello, Mr...?"
He nodded as a greeting, "O'Connell".
Recognition flashed across his features, "Oh, right. Miss Carnahan mentioned you".
"She did?" he asked, wondering why he sounded so surprised at the fact. After all, they had been together for eight months now. Although half of that time he'd spent away from her in the desert. Not the best grounding for a long lasting relationship.
Charlton nodded absently, pulling a small gold statue from the box and examining it, "Yes. Mostly when she was cross with you as I recall".
"Oh", O'Connell replied flatly. He had nothing else to say. No defence at all. He hadn't really treated her very well recently. It was the reason for his visit.
As if reading his thoughts and wanting to rub in his guilt, Charlton tutted, "You know she really is a charming girl. Very lovely. Perhaps a little too sweet for this world. And clumsy. Yes, very clumsy....but she....well, you haven't exactly been her Prince Charming, have you? At least, not from what I heard".
"Well, as you said, you've only heard the bad stuff", O'Connell defended, his throat constricting. Obviously she'd let the whole matter of him saving her from becoming a human sacrifice slip by without a mention.
Charlton waved his hand in a rather dismissive apology, "Yes, quite. Who am I to judge, hmm? 'Let he who is without sin cast the first stone' as the great man himself once said".
When there was no reply he glanced up and saw the scowl set on O'Connell's face. Charlton coughed uncomfortably, "Er....was there something I can do for you?"
"Yeah, I was wondering if I could see Evelyn. I can see you're busy, but this is kinda important. Do you know where she is?"
Charlton nodded, seemingly surprised, "I know exactly where she is. London".
His eyebrows raised, shocked, "London? England?" God, she really must be mad at him.
Charlton picked up the box. "Yes".
He headed smartly out the door and O'Connell stood in contemplation for a few moments before following him.
"London?" he asked again, shadowing the little man as he bustled into the library.
"Yes, Mr O'Connell", he put the box down and began pulling objects out, "I take it she didn't tell you". "Well....no". He had a pretty good idea why that was. She could be stubborn as hell sometimes and it seemed that being mad at him for four months wasn't beyond her capabilities.
Charlton paused what he was doing and looked at him for a moment, feeling a little sympathy for the other man.
"Hmm. Well, she and that brother of hers left for London about....oh, it must have been almost three months ago now".
Okay. London. Not a camel ride away but reachable. He still had more than a fair amount of the money left from his share of their little surprise souvenirs of Hamunaptra. Certainly enough to pay for a boat ride to London. And enough to shower her with presents, meals and flowers, and all the other kinds of things that would get him back into Evelyn's good books. Once he'd apologised, of course.
"Do you know exactly where I can find her? Did she say where she's staying?" he asked, already mentally planning his trip.
Charlton stepped away from his work, finally giving the man his undivided attention. O'Connell had a feeling that that wasn't be a good sign.
"I do, Mr O'Connell, but I don't really think it's a very good idea for you to go and see her".
O'Connell sighed. It was nice that the guy cared about her, but it would be even nicer if he minded his own damn business.
"Look, I appreciate the advice, but I have some things to say to her so could you please...".
"She's engaged to be married".
O'Connell paused, taking this in, for a moment feeling like he'd been kicked in the stomach. In fact, from experience he could safely say that this felt a hell of a lot worse.
He'd heard the words, but it was as if he didn't quite understand them, because after the initial shock he suddenly became horrible calm. He wanted to thump something or shout and scream. Do anything but stand here looking like they were having a casual chat about the weather. But he found himself unable to express any discernible emotion. Surprising for a man who'd just had his world fall down around his ears and land in a jumbled heap at his feet.
Evie? His Evie with another guy?
"To who?" he choked out, his voice cracking only slightly.
"Nathan Hart. A very rich gentleman who owns a banking business in London. She met him when he came to visit the museum a few months back. He took an instant liking to her. Stayed in Cairo weeks longer than he intended to. When they got engaged he insisted that she went back to London with him. Her brother went to chaperone her until the wedding".
O'Connell nodded, taking this in, "The wedding". The words somehow didn't seem to fit in his mouth right. But there again the whole idea of her being with someone else didn't fit in his brain right.
Charlton, knowing there was nothing he could say to make the other man feel any better, tried to reassure him, "He's a very fine gentleman. I'm sure he'll take wonderful care of her".
"I'm sure he will", he said, anger and bitterness beginning to work their way into his voice. They weren't great feelings and definitely not very constructive, but at least they were something rather than the nothing he had had moments ago.
"So, perhaps you shouldn't go and see her, hmm?" the curator said gently, in an almost fatherly fashion.
There was a small moment of silence. Charlton was right, of course. He'd hurt himself - maybe her fiancé too if he got the chance. And he certainly didn't want to see her draping herself over some other guy. Looking at someone else the way she used to look at him. He really shouldn't go and visit her if she was in love with another man.
But who said she was in love?
O'Connell looked up, "Can I have the address please?"
Charlton held his gaze steadily for a moment, then sighed, realising things were now out of his control. He crossed over to the desk, "Just please don't tell her I gave it to you".
The Mummy: Revenge of the Scorned
Part One
Artefacts and boxes were scattered everywhere in the cold stone rooms and corridors that he travelled through. Trophies and coins were on tables, half unpacked statues were peaking out of crates, giving but a glimpse of their overall wonder. Jewels sparkled in the flickering lamp light so that they winked invitingly out from the piles of gold in which they nested. And not too far away from these precious beauties were their former owners - lifeless, desiccated corpses that lay in their coffins. Thousands of years old and yet still they watched him as he passed. Stared through him it seemed, seeing things he couldn't possibly imagine. Or maybe he could but just didn't want to.
O'Connell smiled slightly at himself. Few years ago he would have laughed at such superstitious bull. But that was before he had joined the foreign legion and gone to Hamunaptra in search of fortune and glory. Now he could never look upon these things as only the dried husks of once-humans. They were a threat he had to assessed. He was just paranoid, he guessed.
Near death experiences with three thousand year old corpses could make a man that way.
The Museum of Antiquities in Cairo was in chaos right now. A new tomb had been opened about twenty miles away, and the museum had been donated a great deal of the artefacts found. A plus point of having a patron on the expedition team, he imagined. The curator and his small staff were in the process of unpacking their new goods and putting them on display. O'Connell lost count of the number of times he was barged aside as busy workers came through carrying boxes or relics. Now he knew how the pinball in the machine felt. It took him ten minutes to find someone willing to stop and tell him where he might find the curator. The man apologised in broken English for their treatment of him, but apparently the findings were very exciting.
Not that O'Connell cared much. Treasure was his thing, not artefacts. Not history. The present was more his kind of time. It wasn't like he'd come to the museum to sight see, either. Hell, he'd only been here once before and that wasn't exactly been a pleasant visit. He'd never even been here to see Evelyn until now.
Going to the library as directed and finding the place seemingly empty, he headed for the curator's office by means of the signs on the wall. He knocked on the door smartly and a muffled voice from inside welcomed him in.
He found the curator, Mr Charlton, standing behind his desk with his head inside another box of treasures. The man appeared nice enough, although O'Connell had never really met him but in passing. Evelyn had sung his praises though, saying they were lucky to get such an intelligent and pleasant man after the death of the previous curator.
Charlton looked up, a bit perplexed and a little annoyed at the unexpected visitor, "Hello, Mr...?"
He nodded as a greeting, "O'Connell".
Recognition flashed across his features, "Oh, right. Miss Carnahan mentioned you".
"She did?" he asked, wondering why he sounded so surprised at the fact. After all, they had been together for eight months now. Although half of that time he'd spent away from her in the desert. Not the best grounding for a long lasting relationship.
Charlton nodded absently, pulling a small gold statue from the box and examining it, "Yes. Mostly when she was cross with you as I recall".
"Oh", O'Connell replied flatly. He had nothing else to say. No defence at all. He hadn't really treated her very well recently. It was the reason for his visit.
As if reading his thoughts and wanting to rub in his guilt, Charlton tutted, "You know she really is a charming girl. Very lovely. Perhaps a little too sweet for this world. And clumsy. Yes, very clumsy....but she....well, you haven't exactly been her Prince Charming, have you? At least, not from what I heard".
"Well, as you said, you've only heard the bad stuff", O'Connell defended, his throat constricting. Obviously she'd let the whole matter of him saving her from becoming a human sacrifice slip by without a mention.
Charlton waved his hand in a rather dismissive apology, "Yes, quite. Who am I to judge, hmm? 'Let he who is without sin cast the first stone' as the great man himself once said".
When there was no reply he glanced up and saw the scowl set on O'Connell's face. Charlton coughed uncomfortably, "Er....was there something I can do for you?"
"Yeah, I was wondering if I could see Evelyn. I can see you're busy, but this is kinda important. Do you know where she is?"
Charlton nodded, seemingly surprised, "I know exactly where she is. London".
His eyebrows raised, shocked, "London? England?" God, she really must be mad at him.
Charlton picked up the box. "Yes".
He headed smartly out the door and O'Connell stood in contemplation for a few moments before following him.
"London?" he asked again, shadowing the little man as he bustled into the library.
"Yes, Mr O'Connell", he put the box down and began pulling objects out, "I take it she didn't tell you". "Well....no". He had a pretty good idea why that was. She could be stubborn as hell sometimes and it seemed that being mad at him for four months wasn't beyond her capabilities.
Charlton paused what he was doing and looked at him for a moment, feeling a little sympathy for the other man.
"Hmm. Well, she and that brother of hers left for London about....oh, it must have been almost three months ago now".
Okay. London. Not a camel ride away but reachable. He still had more than a fair amount of the money left from his share of their little surprise souvenirs of Hamunaptra. Certainly enough to pay for a boat ride to London. And enough to shower her with presents, meals and flowers, and all the other kinds of things that would get him back into Evelyn's good books. Once he'd apologised, of course.
"Do you know exactly where I can find her? Did she say where she's staying?" he asked, already mentally planning his trip.
Charlton stepped away from his work, finally giving the man his undivided attention. O'Connell had a feeling that that wasn't be a good sign.
"I do, Mr O'Connell, but I don't really think it's a very good idea for you to go and see her".
O'Connell sighed. It was nice that the guy cared about her, but it would be even nicer if he minded his own damn business.
"Look, I appreciate the advice, but I have some things to say to her so could you please...".
"She's engaged to be married".
O'Connell paused, taking this in, for a moment feeling like he'd been kicked in the stomach. In fact, from experience he could safely say that this felt a hell of a lot worse.
He'd heard the words, but it was as if he didn't quite understand them, because after the initial shock he suddenly became horrible calm. He wanted to thump something or shout and scream. Do anything but stand here looking like they were having a casual chat about the weather. But he found himself unable to express any discernible emotion. Surprising for a man who'd just had his world fall down around his ears and land in a jumbled heap at his feet.
Evie? His Evie with another guy?
"To who?" he choked out, his voice cracking only slightly.
"Nathan Hart. A very rich gentleman who owns a banking business in London. She met him when he came to visit the museum a few months back. He took an instant liking to her. Stayed in Cairo weeks longer than he intended to. When they got engaged he insisted that she went back to London with him. Her brother went to chaperone her until the wedding".
O'Connell nodded, taking this in, "The wedding". The words somehow didn't seem to fit in his mouth right. But there again the whole idea of her being with someone else didn't fit in his brain right.
Charlton, knowing there was nothing he could say to make the other man feel any better, tried to reassure him, "He's a very fine gentleman. I'm sure he'll take wonderful care of her".
"I'm sure he will", he said, anger and bitterness beginning to work their way into his voice. They weren't great feelings and definitely not very constructive, but at least they were something rather than the nothing he had had moments ago.
"So, perhaps you shouldn't go and see her, hmm?" the curator said gently, in an almost fatherly fashion.
There was a small moment of silence. Charlton was right, of course. He'd hurt himself - maybe her fiancé too if he got the chance. And he certainly didn't want to see her draping herself over some other guy. Looking at someone else the way she used to look at him. He really shouldn't go and visit her if she was in love with another man.
But who said she was in love?
O'Connell looked up, "Can I have the address please?"
Charlton held his gaze steadily for a moment, then sighed, realising things were now out of his control. He crossed over to the desk, "Just please don't tell her I gave it to you".