Chapter Eight

Seto sat at the Ishtars' dining table, staring down at his breakfast—a bowl of Rice Krispies, of all things. The modern cereal had seemed out-of-place in the tomb, but when Seto had given Isis a dubious look, she'd simply explained that the cereal was Malik's favorite.

Since then, they hadn't spoken. Neither wanted to be the one to start talking, it appeared. Seto's logic was that he shouldn't start the conversation when Isis was the one who had invited him to eat with her. But who knew what she was thinking right now?

Without raising his head, Seto looked at the Egyptian woman out of the corner of his eyes. Her gaze was fixed on her cereal as she stirred it unnecessarily. Then her eyes inched up as well, and their stares met for just a split second, but with simultaneous sharp intakes of breath, they lowered their eyes back to their cereal.

This is ridiculous, Seto thought. Why did she even ask if I wanted to eat breakfast with her, when she doesn't want to talk? So this time, when he looked up at her, it was blatant. Let her be nervous. Let her wonder why I'm staring. Seto was annoyed, and he wanted her to know it.

But if she felt his stare, she didn't give an indication, didn't look up. So, undeterred, Seto just watched her. She's so proper, he observed. She sat up straight, with her elbows far away from the table. She lifted her spoon all the way to her mouth. Her manner, so clean-cut and dignified, so worldly, contrasted with her dusty, outdated home. Does she really belong in this ancient tomb, Seto wondered, shut off from the world? It didn't seem to fit her; she seemed more suited to running a company, something along those lines. But maybe she sensed that, too. Maybe that was why she went off to work every morning…

Seto opened his mouth with a question, then closed it uncertainly. After a second, though, he asked, "Work's an escape for you, isn't it?"

Now Isis's head snapped up. Her expression was one of surprise, with a little bit of apprehension. "An escape…?" she repeated wonderingly. "An escape from what?"

Seto gestured to their surroundings with a wide sweep of his arms. "From this!" he exclaimed, amazed that she had to ask. "From this… this hole in the ground! From the world you live in!" He knew he was being a little harsher than necessary, but he didn't care. So what if she's offended?

She wasn't, though. She looked thoughtful as she said, "I suppose it is nice to have a reason that I have to leave the tomb every day…" She paused. "So yes, work is an escape, if only from the laws of my destiny."

Seto gave a slight snort and looked at Isis disdainfully. "Ah, of course. Your destiny."

Isis still didn't seem hurt, though, just puzzled. "You still won't believe?" she asked quietly.

"No," Seto said firmly. "I may have to believe in your fairy tales about the Pharaoh and my 'past life.' But I will not let myself be trapped by my so-called destiny, like you do."

Isis closed her eyes and gave a soft, faint smile. "Yes," she said, "it doesn't surprise me when you say that." She opened her eyes again and met Seto's. "That's what you taught me, after all."

Rolling his eyes, Seto looked away. He could still feel Isis's eyes on him though. "What?" he asked irritably.

"Why did you ask if work is an escape? It seems like an odd question," she stated, her brows knitted together.

Seto paused, indecisive. Why had he asked? Because I want to figure her out, he answered himself. I want to understand her. But… he couldn't tell her that. That would seem too caring, too… too intimate. So he settled for another eye roll and a derisive, "I asked simply because it seems logical that you'd want to escape this." He crossed his arms and tried to appear casually scornful.

Isis frowned, finally showing a sign of being hurt. But soon her eyes widened and her frown lessened. She looked at Seto thoughtfully for a moment and said quietly, "I understand." She stood and continued, "I'm leaving for work now. Good luck on your research today." Then she exited, leaving Seto to wonder just what it was she understood.

I was speaking with Kisara today when Akunadin came into my room. When he saw that Kisara was with me, he suddenly became very strange. He exclaimed, "So this is the blue-eyed girl!" and started firing questions at her, like who her parents were and where she lived, if she had a patron god or goddess, things like that. Then he asked her if she knew what a Ka-monster was. When she replied that she had no idea, just as she's told me so many times, he seemed as surprised as I was the first time she said it. Then a somewhat frightening look came onto his face and he said, "Maybe I could show you sometime. In the dungeons—"

I cut him off there. "She's not going down there," I told him.

He nodded for me to follow him out the door, to speak privately. Then he pointed out that if her Ka was as strong as Shadah said, she would be in no danger. Now I don't know… but I don't want anything to happen to this girl. I really care about her. She seems to need my protection so much…

Seto stopped reading for a moment and rubbed his temples. What's so terrifying about the dungeons? he wondered in annoyance. Set had yet to mention in his journal what would happen if Kisara were taken down there. That's the problem with journals. They don't go into any detail at all.

Of course, Seto had no doubt that he would have been able to find the information locked somewhere in his mind. More and more often, Set's memories were merging with Seto's own. It was aggravating—Seto would suddenly just know things that he shouldn't have known.

But at least that was better than the emotions. Those were starting to appear too. Seto had lied when he'd told Isis that the way he could see Set's love for Kisara was how the priest wrote about her in the journals.

Seto could feel it—the longing invaded his mind. He would try to push it away, but it was useless. The assaulting love came at him from all sides, pulsing in his mind and heart. It made Seto pity the blue-eyed girl sometimes, although he naturally felt nothing but contempt for her and her weak demeanor. And if Seto really let down his guard, the foreign feeling could take over completely… so sometimes he loved her too.

That was what he hated, because when that happened, he had little to no control over his thoughts and feelings. All he could think about at those times was Kisara—trying to find out about her, understand her…

Like he'd wanted to understand Isis that morning at breakfast. Seto frowned. He hadn't realized how similar those two feelings were. All he'd thought about was how strange it was that Isis interested him now—before, he hadn't cared for Isis at all, but now he wanted… what? What was it that prompted him to start conversations with her, and what caused him to enjoy being with her? Why did he now want to know everything about the Egyptian woman who had bothered him so much before?

It couldn't possibly be for the same reason he wanted to understand Kisara…? No. Seto wouldn't even allow himself to contemplate the idea. That would mean that I… no. Impossible.

Shaking his head to clear it of the thought that was trying to make itself known, Seto glanced back down at the journal, but then he shoved it away from him. What if I didn't research Kisara? he wondered fiercely. It was only after I started that Set's love started taking over. And now these… feelings… not love!!... but these feelings for Isis… Everything was just so confusing at the Ishtars' home. Seto would much rather be in America, working on his amusement park, or at his home in Japan… anywhere but in this "hole in the ground" in Egypt, researching a past he didn't want.

But the thing was, it was hardly the first time such an idea had occurred to Seto. He had thought of leaving several times before, but each time he'd been compelled to stay. In fact, he had been contemplating leaving when he found the journal. But then he'd found it, and suddenly it had seemed so urgent that he understand Kisara. Set's memories started to appear in Seto's mind—and the priest's emotions began forcing themselves on him, stronger than anything he'd felt before. If only Seto could get rid of them!

But if Seto left the Ishtars' home without finding out all there was to know about Kisara, he knew the memories would continue to haunt him. So for now he was trapped. He would just have to deal with Set's love for Kisara.

And with his feelings for Isis. Whatever they were. But they weren't love.

They couldn't possibly be love…