Dreams & Nightmares

Chapter 10

Rating: R

Disclaimer: The characters of Mummies Alive! are property of DIC Entertainment.

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Jakal emerged from his sarcophagus after only a handful of sleepless hours, as agitated as when he went in. It was still early in the day, only ten o'clock or so, and it seemed as though the storm above was still raging. The muffled boom of thunder sounded from nearby and even here, in the dusty, odour-laden central chamber of the sphinx, he could smell the cleansing freshness of new rain.

The room he stepped into from his bed was empty, cold, and somewhat darker than normal. It was a room that held every appearance of having been unoccupied for several hours.

The vague question of where Rath and Armon could be flitted through his mind for a moment before his eyes went to the feline sarcophagus standing silent and closed, its occupant either sleeping or unwilling to see anyone. He wondered if she found sleep as fleeting as he had, if she wept still. Should he knock and see to her? Would she welcome such a thing?

She told him, just before closing herself up, that she had no wish to face either of their comrades with her story. While he believed they eventually should be told, he would not force her to relive it in the telling. Moreover, he would never betray her trust by telling them himself.

"Jakal, you're awake," Rath's somewhat surprised voice came from the entryway, one of his ever-present scrolls clutched in a thin hand. He stood as a darkened shape in the doorway leading to his study, head cocked to one side in the curiosity that drove him. "I had expected you to sleep for several more hours." His voice carried well across the space that separated them though it was in a low tone as he moved into another room.

Leaving the sleeping area so as not to risk disturbing his resting friend, the hunter crossed the long chamber to the small kitchen where Rath had apparently been heading. As the scribe picked at what looked to be leftover Chinese food, he rummaged in the white-stone sarcophagus for something to eat. Jakal could feel the patient gaze of the swordsman on his back and realized he wanted to talk.

An apple was chosen for his meal, being easy to eat. It also required no preparation and would allow him to devote his full attention to whatever it was Rath wanted to discuss.

Therefore, he chose the chair across the table from his team-mate to better face him and took the opportunity to sink his teeth into the small fruit in his hand. Yet, instead of speaking, the scribe seemed intent on toying with his chopsticks. Doing so long enough to test Jakal's patience.

Rather than starting a conversation himself, he used the relative silence to focus some of his attention on the sleeping area in the next room. He listened for any signs of the stone on stone if she left her sarcophagus or the softer sounds of crying nightmares.

Just in case she needs someone, he assured himself firmly. He prayed she would find the peace in slumber she so desperately needed now in the waking world. Should she not, he planned to be there to shield and protect her in whatever way he could. He would hold her until time ended if it would keep her safe.

"Is there anything else you can tell me about what happened to her?" The sudden question jerked his mind back to the scribe whom he had forgotten about. "Or even how badly she was injured?"

"I can't describe her injuries without telling what happened and I gave my word to her. All I will say is that she was hurt. Horribly." It was truth but it was vague, 'hurt' able to have many meanings. Seeing his friend's sceptical and thoughtful expression caused him to frown, "Why?"

Rath shrugged his shoulders, pushing the box of leftovers away and propping his elbows on the table. "I wondered if I could help in any way, if perhaps there was some spell or potion I could give her… And there was a somewhat bizarre call from Dr. French about an hour ago." He looked down at his hands for a moment, pulling at a loose thread on the bandage crossing his palm in a surprising show of nerves. "She's… coming for a visit this evening to check on Nefertina's healing."

Many questions burned in the green depths of his eyes when he again looked up. "She also stated she would need a ride here. The Hot-Ra is still mostly inoperable so I thought you could fetch her when you retrieved the jetcycle from wherever it was left."

Rath, in his own way, did care for the little charioteer, even if he was more often than not wroth with her due to whatever mischief she was getting into. It was no surprise, then, his wish to help her in whatever way he could.

It was the second matter Jakal was having trouble believing fully. Mechanical genius that he was, it seemed improbable the wizard would be unable to repair the Hot Ra by evening when he had managed to get it running well enough to retrieve the two of them. Of course, it was also no secret he and the good doctor rarely had a completely civil exchange.

So, it was with a small grin that the hunter voiced his suspicions. "It sounds to me that you simply don't want to be the one to drive Dr. French anywhere."

He was rewarded with outraged sputtering.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Rath harrumphed and crossed his arms, brow furrowing over narrowed green eyes. For the first time in what felt like ages, the archer found himself laughing. It was not met with like amusement. "Jakal!"

"Fine, fine, I'll retrieve the doctor to save you the agony," Jakal said with enough mock defeat thrown into his voice to earn a dark scowl. "Where's Armon?" He asked in order to change the subject and keep the scribe from storming off in a show of pique.

With a huff and a glare, he was answered. "He went out not long ago. He didn't tell me where he was going; only that he needed some air." There was a sigh, then, through the swordsman's nose as his anger fled. "What happened to Nefertina has… upset him greatly, so much so he hasn't eaten since we found you."

That news came as a bit of a surprise. Armon had never been one to let emotions get in the way of his hearty appetite; that he did so now bespoke both his great anger at Scarab and the deep love he felt for their little charioteer. They were close, those two, closer than many siblings he could think of.

Perhaps it was not so surprising after all.

"What about you?" The hunter asked suddenly of the older man. His manner seemed colder than the situation warranted.

Somewhat taken aback by the question, Rath merely stared at him. It was some time before he was answered, the thin wizard speaking slowly, his eyes slightly narrowed as a dull rumble of thunder rolled overhead.

His words were curt, clipped, "I'm coping… a fair sight better than you or Armon, I might add." He held up a hand to silence the vehement comment that immediately sprang to Jakal's mind. "I am just as angry as you and it would give me no greater joy than to give Scarab what he deserves, but I see no reason to storm about in a rage until we find him. That would accomplish nothing save a waste of energy."

Rath often prided himself on his emotional control, though had proven on many occasions it was not as strong as he liked to believe. Still, what he said was in keeping with his character and should really have been expected on Jakal's part. It shamed him that he could so jump to conclusions.

"My apologies, Rath, you just seemed…"

"Cold? Emotionless?" The scribe supplied while waving off the apology, the ghost of a smile playing about his lips. "Nefertina is constantly saying that," fondness crept into his eyes, tempered by an angry sadness, "when she isn't being the living embodiment of vexation."

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End chapter 10

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