Denotes vision/memory
A big thank you to CT for your help with this chapter.
This is for all you guys who have stayed with this story – hope you like this.
Oh, slight warning – a bit on the gruesome side, blood and stuff...
=======
Despite of the heat that was spreading across the land above, the vault remained cool and unfriendly. Teal'c stood near the entrance, his legs just visible at the top of the steps that descended into the gloom and pessimism. O'Neill sat halfway down, eyes straining in the torchlight; alert against the intuition that was crushing his backbone.
Jonas stood almost central, every breath drawing on the variegated shades of suffering and torment that echoed, unseen, in every fissure. His memory skated back to the catacombs, to the darkness and harsh sentiment that was contained there, as he tried to get some perspective, some understanding on the splinters of emotions that fractured the tomb like air.
He uncurled his hand and the eye blinked spontaneously. The handprints on each wall reanimated, stretching inside the stone like it was the rubber of a balloon. Jonas watched them reach, their scope, limited to where fate had consigned them for eternity, their epitaph, their mausoleum.
"Jonas?" Daniel asked concerned.
The Kelownan looked between O'Neill and Daniel and gave a laconic smile. Jack noticed the trepidation pooled in the young man's eyes, the sheen of fear on his skin. "You don't have to do this," he offered.
Jonas hesitated, looking to the light from the entrance above, wanting to bathe in its lustre. He turned back to the room, listening to the silent prayer each handprint was rendering. "Yes, yes I do," he answered, needing to hear his own words.
He turned to Daniel, "you won't need those," he said, gesturing to the notepad and pencil the Egyptologist held.
Daniel looked puzzled, "I,I think I can take you with me, the link in here is so strong," Jonas explained.
He nodded and took the Kelownan's outstretched hand.
==============
Huitzilopochtli stood in the chamber, his painted face washed in the light from the brazier that was burning against the darkness, discolouring the blue and black hues that masked his features.
Daniel could make out every detail of his form, from the plume of feathers that crowned his head to the detailed, gold, circles that encompassed his ankles.
"Wow," he said under his breath, at the enormity of what he was witnessing hit him.
Huitzilopochtli cocked his head slightly as if listening to the shadows of which Jonas and Daniel were a part.
"Can he hear us?" The Egyptologist asked, turning to the Kelownan.
Jonas met his gaze, eyes clouded and unresponsive, "no," he whispered from far away, "you are just an observer in what has gone before. These are images from the past."
He flinched, "Jonas?" Daniel cried.
"Fear," the younger man responded, putting his free hand to his chest where the impression of dread was building.
Four Jaffa marched crudely down the steps, one of them half dragging a man in their wake.
The Goa'uld turned to meet them, his eyes flashing in the gloom, "good," he said, the rasp of his voice grating against the walls of the chamber.
"Kneel before your god," one of the Jaffa said, pushing the man to the floor.
"He is not my god. He is a false god," the man retorted, bravely, looking into the flaming stare.
Huitzilopochtli cupped the man's determined chin with his thumb and forefinger, "who is your true god?" He asked.
"We found these on him, my lord," the Jaffa said, handing him several, roughly carved, small statues.
"Isis, Osiris and Ra," the Goa'uld laughed, crushing the effigies in his grasp, "and you think these are going to save you?" He hurled them into the fire.
"They will come," the man countered, "even now the uprising is gaining strength. We have defeated the Jaffa who guard the Chappa'ai, soon our true gods will come and rescue us and destroy you!"
Huitzilopochtli smiled, "ah, that may be so, my friend, they have tried before, but it'll be a little too late for you."
He gestured to the four Jaffa who took a limb each and spread-eagled the man on the convex stone alter that stood portentously in the middle of the room.
Daniel moved forward, on impulse, but Jonas gripped his hand tightly, "you can do nothing," he said.
"You mean we just have to watch?" It was a stupid question; he knew the answer before speaking the words.
The Kelownan nodded, "and experience," he whispered forlornly.
"How, how do you handle this?"
Jonas looked at him, the emotion in the room trembling through is body, "knowledge has a price," he said, plainly.
Huitzilopochtli hovered over his victim, his one hand tenderly following the sternum, touching the man's pulse through his skin. He closed his eyes, connecting with the living beat, letting it vibrate through the velvet pads of each of his fingertips. He moaned softly, bonding with the throb of blood, allowing the vigour, the vitality to stimulate his senses. His breathing quickened with pleasure, his mouth drooled as he removed his hand to unsheathe the ornately carved obsidian knife that he wore on his hip.
He gripped its decorative shaft with both hands, raising it above his victim, "I am not human," he proclaimed, his voice tight with desire, "I am divine. I am implacable. I uphold the order of the world, demanding your sacrifice. You cannot refuse it. You are only repaying the god who created you."
He made an incision below the rib cage, mesmerised by the provocative dance of blood that stained the man's flesh in tempting ribbons of scarlet. The man struggled against the score of the knife, crying out in pain and distress but was held fast by the Jaffa.
Huitzilopochtli's practiced hand penetrated the ragged opening, reaching into and pulling the pounding heart aloft, feeling its last vibrations in his grasp.
"Leave me," he ordered the Jaffa, not taking his eyes from the bloody mass, "and dispose of that traitor."
They gathered up the man's empty body and carried it up the steps, stopping to imprint his hand on the wall using his own blood.
Huitzilopochtli took the heart and placed it in a simple glazed bowl, which he put on the brazier, it sizzled against the heat.
His First Prime entered the room carrying a bowl of warm water in his hands and several garments over his arm.
He knelt before his master and the Goa'uld took the dish from him and set it down on the alter.
"Ah Tenochca, how goes the revolution," he asked, an ironic glint in his voice.
"Your Jaffa fight bravely," Tenochca replied.
"But I am afraid to no avail," the Goa'uld sighed, removing his ceremonial attire.
"They are outnumbered, that is true, my Lord, but they are well trained and take many to the grave with them."
Huitzilopochtli held up his hand in acknowledgement and began to wash the hue from his face and body, turning his back on Jonas and Daniel. He slowly moved the water over his skin, cleansing and exploring the dancer like persona that he inhabited.
"Your new body pleases you, my lord?" Tenochca asked.
The Goa'uld stretched an arm out in front of him, viewing its structure, "I am satisfied with it, you did well on your choice."
He rubbed his face in the water, "you have placed my old host in the temple?"
"Yes, where all can see."
"Good and the cargo ship is ready?"
Tenochca nodded, "we have taken as many as we could safely carry as well as supplies." He hesitated, "I, I have been asked, by a few, as to where we are bound, my Lord."
Huitzilopochtli's turned to the prostrate man, anger flaring in his voice, "and what have you told them, these 'few'?"
"That I do not know," Tenochca replied weakly, trying to deflect his master's rage.
The Goa'uld nodded and continued to wipe his face in a cloth, streaking it blue, black.
"You may tell them that we head for the mother planet, Earth."
Huitzilopochtli wrapped a drab garment around himself and stood over his First Prime, his face obscured in the shadow, his eyes matching the firelight.
"I have entrusted you with a great task, Tenochca," he expressed, his voice echoing round the chamber above the leisurely cooking of the heart in its own blood. "You will lead my people and avenge my name by usurping all those who worship false gods until I am the only deity on their lips when they kneel to pray."
"This I will do, my Lord," Tenochca acknowledged, "but it will be difficult without your presence to guide us."
"There are others, out there, who need my salvation," he replied with a quick glance to the dish on top of the brazier, "but know that I am always with you, in spirit," he expressed.
"I will send to you a sign, an eagle perched on a large cactus. This great bird will hold a serpent in its mouth and when you see this omen, know that I am pleased with your progress and that this will be your final resting place. Build me a great city there and I will return to you again."
The noise of fighting interrupted Huitzilopochtli's sermon, "they come closer," Tenochca voiced.
"Let them have their hollow victory, for when we leave this planet's orbit, I will obliterate all that I have given them so that nothing remains," he turned back to the dish and lifted it from the heat, "go, I will join you soon."
Tenochca bowed his head and hurried up the steps.
Daniel felt Jonas' grip tighten in his own, "Jonas?" He questioned.
Huitzilopochtli turned towards where the two men stood and cocked his head to one side. He held out his hand, his fingertips stretched out like antenna, reaching into the far shadows of the chamber. He closed his eyes, in concentration, and Jonas felt the darkness of the Goa'uld's essence extend into the present to touch his heart.
Huitzilopochtli smiled as he sensed the potency of each rhythmic beat and moved closer to the source. He opened his eyes, his face now apparent in the glow from the burner. Jonas felt his own heart stop, in shock, as the Goa'uld whispered his name, "Jonas."
Daniel felt the past and present connect in some psychic link and then everything imploded around him in a conduit of energy. His breath split from his body and he found himself spiralling in a vortex of images that scored his eyes, making them well with tears.
He blinked back the soreness and found he was no longer in the chamber but outside amid a mixed group of people. The scenery was different, he was on the edge of a city, a modern city and around him the citizens were celebrating a festival with a variety of market stalls, colourful dances and dragon balloons. Above him, catching the breeze like a kite, a vivid banner was strewn across the street welcoming all to the Kelowna Harvest Fair.
Daniel looked down at the hand he was still holding and found that it belonged to a child. The boy turned and looked at him, his face anxious and stained with tears; it was Jonas.
Daniel realised this was no longer a vision; he was now a passenger in Jonas' past.
He went to speak but the words that tumbled from his mouth, dissolved into the scenery, making no sense.
The backdrop changed, in a misty swirl and the joyful crowd disappeared. The odd balloon floated passed accompanied by pieces of discarded litter that had stumbled down this secluded back street of cloud and shadow and destruction.
He heard Jonas fight for breath, panic rattling through his small frame as he surveyed the derelict waste ground, searching for something in the misery.
Drunks leant against the rubble of buildings, some sleeping off the vapours of alcohol, others talking to their invisible demons. A dog, with only three legs, balanced its skeletal frame as it rummaged, hungrily, through mounds of trash, snarling and foaming at the slightest movement or noise. Women, with vacant eyes and forgotten bodies waited in the shade to satisfy carnal lust for the price of a cheap meal.
"Jonas," a small, anguished, voice cried, like a ray of light in the desolation.
Daniel looked above him, up a flight of neglected stone steps and saw the frightened face of Mia.
Jonas' small legs took the steps two at a time, racing to confront the man who had abducted his sister.
The man stopped and turned round. Jonas froze, unable to act, staring into the stranger's mesmerising face. The man stretched out his free hand and placed it across Jonas' sternum, feeling the race of the boy's small heart through his fingertips. He closed his eyes and licked his lips and then smiled.
"Jonas," he repeated, in a thick accent and cocked his head to one side.
Jonas made a lunge for his sister but the stranger stopped him and pushed him back down the steps.
Daniel looked into the abductor's face just as everything disappeared in thousand pinpricks of light. It was Huitzilopochtli.
============