Chapter Twelve: Troubled Midnight

Her body was desperate for rest.

Evelyn's eyes felt raw from lack of sleep, but her nerves and the whirling anxiety of her mind denied her any repose. David Barton's plan was, quite simply, insane. What terrified her was the fact that - insane or not - it could quite easily succeed unless someone stopped him. And as there was no-one else, that someone would have to be her.

She had to get the vessel of Horus from him – that much she knew – and the papyrus that contained the instructions on how to awaken the Sphinx. How she was going to do this, Evelyn had no idea. She had no sticks of dynamite concealed on her person. The truth was that Barton's discoveries were remarkable. From a purely academic viewpoint, they were astounding, exciting and would guarantee that whoever presented them to the Department of Antiquities would have their future assured. The Egyptologist in her dreamt of seizing the vessel and the papyrus and, somehow, keeping them in tact until she could alert the Bembridge Scholars. But she had seen enough of the power and terror of the ancient world to know that if the artefacts had to be destroyed in order to keep the demon at rest, then it was a price worth paying.

She did not allow herself to think about what would happen when all of this was over.

Evelyn stretched out on her hard mattress and stared at the ceiling. If she were perfectly honest, she would have admitted that, even had she been able to, she was too scared to sleep. Too scared of the dreams she knew would come, of the faces that would haunt her and the memories that would tease her. She closed her eyes tightly, swallowing hard against the lump that had suddenly risen in her throat. It choked her. All she wanted to do was scream her rage and pain, but she could not – would not – do it. Once again, she told herself that there may very well be nothing to grieve for – but self-delusion can only last so long.

Evelyn rolled onto her side, still staring sightlessly ahead. Her thick, unruly hair kept escaping from its pins and clinging to her neck. She felt filthy and overheated. Her thought processes, much to her frustration, functioned better after the benefit of a hot bath, clean clothes and decent food. Despite the lack of all that, Evelyn was determined that she would remain alert. She had to be prepared to use the slightest occurrence to her advantage. It was very quiet. The water lapping against the hull was the loudest sound, the peace of the night broken only occasionally by a cry from further up the embankment.

And then there was a crash.

Evelyn sat up, her hands clutching the rough blanket, her heart thundering.

The air was suddenly full of shouts and what sounded like gunshots. Loud banging overhead – someone running across the deck above her cabin. The entire barge seemed to be rocking under this onslaught and Evelyn, her momentary paralysis over, leapt up. Who was out there, she neither knew nor cared at the moment – it just meant a possibility for escape.

If Barton or one of his cronies didn't come for her first. But they probably would not count on her being prepared to ambush them.

Evelyn scoured the meagre cabin wildly, looking for anything that could do duty as a weapon. The only thing was her water-pitcher: thick glass with a heavy base. She weighed it in her hand thoughtfully. If she swung it hard enough, she could inflict some serious damage. It would have to do.

She positioned herself by the door, her body tense. Despite the noises that were increasing in volume, the overwhelming sound in her ears was her own breathing.

Footsteps were coming down the corridor outside and the next moment the door burst open and a man - an Egyptian - spilled into the room.

Evelyn raised the pitcher and brought it down on his head. The man let out a guttural moan and fell to the ground, twitching. The velocity of her swing carried Evelyn halfway across the cabin and she had barely regained her balance when another figure appeared in the doorway. She gripped her weapon firmly, but before she could do anything, he had grasped her wrist. She let out a little 'oh' of surprise, the pitcher fell crashing to the ground and she found herself swung unceremoniously over his shoulder.

The corridor was full of flames and acrid smoke. For a moment she was blinded and coughed piteously as the fumes engulfed her. Her most recent abductor strode quickly down the narrow passage; Evelyn, however, was not prepared to give in without a fight. She started kicking and pounding her fists on his back as hard as she could, yelling expletives that would have made her brother blush.

A large hand smacked her smartly on the rear.

'Cut it out, Carnahan. I'm trying to rescue you here.'

She froze, not out of obedience, but because she seemed to have lost all feeling in her body. Relief - immense and powerful - swept through her. Her hands grasped the fabric of his robes and she felt the powerful muscles in his back supporting her. She squirmed around, trying to see his face.

'Rick!'

The cry was a warning.

Rick spun around to find another of Barton's henchmen running down the corridor towards them, wielding a large sword.

Evelyn, who had narrowly missed hitting her head against the wall in the manoeuvre, heard the gunshot and then was turned around again as Rick continued their escape.

A crumpled figure in white lay motionless in the burning corridor behind.

Evelyn's head jolted uncomfortably as Rick attacked the narrow stairs at a run.

'Rick-Rick, put me down!'

He steadied himself against the handrail on the stairs. 'Now's not a good time to start giving orders, honey.' He let go of the rail long enough too give her another sharp smack. 'Quit squirming before I drop you.'

Even over the crackle of the flames and the shouts from Ardeth's men, he could hear her muttering ominously and grinned to himself. Whatever punishment Evelyn felt was necessary for this indignity, he was more than happy to take. Just as long as she was around to give it.

He reached the top of the wooden steps and kicked the door onto the deck open.

After the long hours confined in the bowels of the barge, the night air felt deliciously cool against Evelyn's skin. Everything around her was dancing at an impossible angle, but she could see smoke and flames, and heard the occasional tortuous scream.

Rick came to a halt and she was able to push herself up far enough to se that they were at the edge of the deck and Rick was calling down to someone over the side.

The barge was no longer moored, but was drifting slowly down the dark river.

'Time to get off.'

Evelyn's feet touched the ground, her view of the world righted itself and the warm, comforting, entirely alive bulk of her fiancé stood over her. The black cloth had fallen away from his face and Evelyn had a brief sight of blue eyes in the moonlight before he picked her up and lifted her over the side of the barge. She did not land in the Nile this time, but found another pair of arms waiting for her. A smaller boat was alongside the barge and as Evelyn was pulled into it, she recognised the dark, tattooed faces and black clothes of the Medjai warriors. She barely had the time to wonder how they had become involved in all of this when she recognised another face.

'All right over there, old mum?'

Her throat constricted painfully. Jonathan had not donned the black robes of the Medjai as Rick had done - his concession to the clandestine nature of the proceedings was to wear his darkest grey suit. Now he sat grinning at her as though they were on a pleasure cruise at Henley. She wanted to hug him, but even Evelyn - not always noted for her practical responses - was aware that she could capsize their small craft if she stood up. Instead she stretched out her hand and her brother grasped it, his eyes suspiciously moist.

A shout from above drew their attention.

Evelyn looked up and saw Ardeth Bey leaning over the side of the barge, but could not understand all of the words he called down. She guessed their meaning when the men took up their oars and started to push away from the barge.

'What are you doing? Where do you think you're- Rick is still on there!'

She tried to grab the oar of the man nearest to her.

'Evy calm down, it's all right - you'll have us over, girl!'

The Medjai closest to her turned. 'It is dangerous to remain here. The fire has spread. Your man is safe and he wants you on land.'

Flaming debris was falling into the water and a deep, low rumbling from inside the barge spoke of an explosion in the engine room. The force rocked their small boat and the waters of the Nile boiled around them.

Panic rose in her. For a moment she considered jumping back into the water, but even if she did that, there was nothing she could do. She watched helplessly as they moved further away from the barge, her eyes straining in the attempt to see a black-robed figure on the deck.

The boat bumped against the shore and Evelyn was pulled to her feet, her legs feeling decidedly unsteady when she finally stood on firm land. She felt lost - there must, surely, be something she should be doing, but she didn't know what. A pair of hands grasped her shoulders gently and turned her around. Her brother's mouth twitched into a smile - as mischievous and insouciant a ever.

She clung to him fiercely, burying her face in his shirtfront and getting the unmistakable scent of his after-shave. Bay Rum. Jonathan held her for a moment and then gently prised her arms from his neck.

'Steady on, old girl. Give a chap some breathing room.' He took her chin in his hand and asked softly, 'You are all right aren't you? You're not hurt - not badly?'

Evelyn managed a watery smile. 'I'm fine.'

He studied her face for a moment, tenderly running a thumb over her cheek.

'Evelyn.'

'What?'

'Nothing. Just, Evelyn.'

She patted his face. 'You need to shave, Jon.'

'I know. When this is all over, I'll be spruce, dapper and ready to take you out on the town. I'll dance every dance with you. I'll even dance with Rick, as long as he doesn't step on my toes.'

Evelyn giggled and rested her head on his shoulder. 'Idiot.'

They both stared across the dark water, illuminated by the dancing flames on the barge and waited. Jonathan took hold of his sister's hand and squeezed it. For the second time that night, he started to pray.

'Where the hell is he?'

'We must go. The boat will sink.'

'You go. I'm gonna find him.'

Ardeth cursed under his breath and followed Rick along the deck. The smoke was thick, stinging the eyes and filling their mouths. The black fumes made both men feel sick, but they still moved forward - one man seeking vengeance, the other sworn to protect the first.

Rick held one hand over his mouth, squinting against the acrid smoke and started back down the steps and towards the cabin where Evelyn had been held. The lights had gone in the passage, the only illumination now was from the flames. His eyes pierced the gloom and he felt a surge of satisfaction when, ahead, he saw his quarry.

David Barton saw the two men in front of him and his lips pulled back from his teeth - a grotesque rictus grin. The dim orange light gave his face an unnatural glow and glinted off the magnificent amulet around his neck. Gold, carnelian and lapis in the form of a great disk with outstretched wings.

Ardeth grabbed Rick's arm and whispered urgently, 'The amulet!'

Rick's eyes didn't leave the other man's face. 'I've been looking forward to this.'

'You're wasting your time, you know. By tomorrow, I will be a god. You will be begging for my mercy. I shall look forward to that.'

'Don't hold your breath. It's a while before morning - and you're not a god yet.'

A flash of irritation crossed the Englishman's face. 'You're pretty bloody arrogant for a mercenary. Why couldn't you just do the decent thing and die in that explosion? You know all it means is that you get to watch me take Evelyn from you again.' He sneered. 'Actually, that's an even better idea. Thank you.'

Ardeth saw Rick's figure stiffen at the mention of Evelyn's name. He silently willed his friend not to lose his temper before they had retrieved the amulet. The Englishman was a mortal - he certainly did not have the power of a god or the Creature, but he was still supremely dangerous.

'Okay.' Rick's eyes narrowed, their clear blue depths now hard and glittering. 'We end this. Now.'

'Perhaps.'

Barton suddenly raised both hands together and a flame flared up. He threw the object to the ground and Rick, letting out a yell of surprise and warning, leapt backwards.

He landed heavily, momentarily winded and felt Ardeth struggling beneath him. Rick swore violently and struggled to his feet. A wall of flame filled the narrow passageway and through its blazing heart, he could see that Barton had gone. He replaced his gun into the holster and braced himself.

Ardeth regained his footing and saw Rick gauging the intense flames. He grabbed him.

'You cannot do this! It is madness!'

'Ardeth, let me go or I swear to God I'll-'

'Kill me, my friend, if you wish. But you will die in these flames.' He eyed the fire behind Rick apprehensively. It was spreading towards them and the smoke was already filling the passageway.

'I thought you wanted to get that damn amulet.'

'I do. But for now we must wait. Tonight, Evelyn is safe - tomorrow we will make sure that the rest of the world is. You must come.'

Rick cast one last, reluctant look over his shoulder and then started back towards the stairwell. Ardeth's calmness was, he thought, incredibly annoying at times, but there appeared to be something to be said for rationality What was it he had told him? 'Live today - fight tomorrow.' Maybe he should take that up as his motto.

They regained the upper deck and paused for a moment: the fire had spread everywhere and an ominous creaking warned them that the barge was on the point of disintegrating. There was nothing else they could do but swim back to shore. Ardeth scanned the deck, plotting a clear way forward through the flames and started to ease forwards.

Rick suddenly grabbed hold of Ardeth's robes and pulled him backwards. The Medjai flattened himself against the wall and eyed the large hole that had just appeared where flooring used to be. He looked over his shoulder and flashed a smile at Rick.

'My gratitude. I owe you my life.'

Rick shrugged. 'Forget it, buddy. You've saved my ass a few times - call it even.'

He nodded gravely and the two men cautiously skirted the gaping hole and started inching towards the deck-rail.

From the shore, the gathered watchers saw two figures jump from the burning wreckage into the water. They disappeared beneath the oily surface, choppy rings extending out from where they had been. For a few heart-stopping seconds, there was nothing; and then the surface of the water broke a few feet away from where they went in.

Evelyn realised that she was holding her breath – her lungs burned from it. She leaned heavily against her brother and watched the progress as the two men swam back to shore. They were both strong swimmers, their strokes firm and assured. Their black robes billowed around them and the inky water was streaked with virulent orange and flashes of silver from the waning moon.

The two men pulled themselves out of the river, the Medjai providing many willing hands to pull them the rest of the way.

Evelyn remained with Jonathan, the pair still holding each other, but her eyes were on Rick. He pushed his hair out of his eyes, wiping the water from his face and scanned the small group on the riverbank impatiently. Their eyes met and for a second neither of them moved ... until Evelyn threw herself at him.

Rick caught her easily, standing steady under the impact of her body colliding with his. He crushed her to him, one hand cradling her head against his chest. Evelyn wrapped her arms around him and closed her eyes, listening to the steady beat of his heart against her ear. He smelt of smoke and river water. She held on to him, squeezing him with all of her strength and then raised her head when she heard his faint growl of pleasure. His lips captured hers and her fingers grasped the wet hair at the back of his neck.

'Oh please.' Jonathan watched the scene in disgust. At least, that was what he preferred every one to think. 'Will you two bloody give it a bloody rest? Honestly, it's enough to make you want to dig your own eyes out with a spoon.'

At their request, Ardeth translated these comments for the benefit of his brethren who did not speak English. They bowed their heads, vainly attempting to stifle their laughter.

The couple eventually drew apart, studying each other in the moonlight.

'Why the robes?'

Rick jerked his head towards Ardeth. 'His idea. According to the oracle over there, my clothes would be too conspicuous. Of course, a boatload of Bedouin wouldn't be out of place around here at all.'

Ardeth paused in wringing the water out of his clothes and drew himself up majestically. 'We are not Bedouin,' he informed them. 'We are Medjai.'

Rick rolled his eyes. 'Yeah, whatever.'

Despite the apparent bickering, amusement and a guarded affection softened the eyes of both men.

Ardeth observed the couple standing together. The way Evelyn seemed to fit perfectly in the circle of the soldier's arms. Unified and indestructible, in soul if not in body. From across the chasm of time and the whispering, restless desert sands, Ardeth heard the faint echo of ancient lives. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He was bound to this man and woman, he realised. For a reason not yet revealed to him, their souls had been brought together.

But the time had not yet arrived. Three sides of the pyramid. There was still another.

Evelyn, her head resting against Rick's chest, looked over at the Medjai and smiled. 'I should thank you, really. You could have been killed, um, Mr-Mr Bey, isn't it?'

'Ardeth,' he replied, bringing his hands together and bowing to her.

Her face was radiant. 'Ardeth.'

Her gaze was drawn back to the burning wreckage on the dark water. 'David - is he...?'

Rick's arms tightened around her.

'He escaped,' Ardeth informed her gently.

'Oh, bloody hell!' Jonathan scrubbed the back of his hand across his forehead and glared at the assembled group. 'So what do we do now?'

'You take Evelyn back to the hotel.'

She pulled herself out of his arms. 'And where will you be going?'

'Somewhere Barton might go.'

'I'm going with you,' she informed him, her eyes flashing stubbornly. 'You're not chasing around Cairo on your own-'

'He won't be on his own.'

Once again, the Medjai and the American met each other's eye.

'See, I got my own personal bodyguard. It won't be for long,' he added before she could say anything else. 'It's just something I've gotta check and then I'll be straight back to the hotel. I promise.'

'Come on, old mum, get yourself all spruced up before you start banging your eyelashes at O'Connell again.' Jonathan put his arm around her shoulders.

'My men will escort you.' Ardeth turned and delivered a few rapid instructions to his companions.

'Right, that's all settled then. Evy, come on.'

Jonathan pulled his sister's unresisting form with him as the Medjai closed around them. Evelyn strained her neck, her eyes still searching the gloom.

'Rick...'

He stood on the shore - tall, strong and proud. His eyes found hers, his gaze blazing silver in the moonlight. The look penetrated her soul and her heart soared.