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A/n thank you to all who have read, reviewed, followed or favorited this story. I appreciate all my loyal readers and all feedback. Please enjoy the next chapter.
"Take him away," said the tall man to Jarvis. "You know what to do."
"Yes sir," Jarvis inclined his head and bent to the unconscious form of Dr. Spencer Reid.
"Father, please." Rachel pleaded. "Do not do this."
The tall man rounded on his daughter and she shrank back from him. "You will be silent, daughter. You above all else understand the need for this man. He will bring back what was lost."
"You do not know if that is so." Rachel dared to argue. "How many times must you try? How many lives must you take?"
"To right a terrible wrong, I will go to Hell and spit in the face of the Devil himself, if I must. Do you understand?"
His hand flashed out and slapped her face so hard, she wailed and dropped to her knees on the floor. "You see what you make me do," he stood over her and stared down at her sobbing form. "Losing your temper is indicative of a lack of self-control. I do not wish to hurt you, but you leave me no choice."
The tall man turned and strode out the door. It slammed shut and Rachel heard a key twist and the bolt shoot home. She put a hand to her face and winced as she cried. Why did he hate her so and why did he give all his love to the memory of her dead brother? It wasn't fair. Rage welled up in her chest and instead of trying to quell the emotion, she let it coalesce into her like the gathering of storm clouds on the horizon.
She climbed to her feet and began to search the corkboard for another key to the door. Jarvis had duplicates of every key, but the hook labeled "Office," was empty. She beat her hands on her breast and shrieked. "Let me out of here."
Her voice filled the room but did not summon even the dour Mrs. Jarvis to her side. Mrs. Jarvis! Oh, she would like to show the ancient hag what it meant to be trapped in an existence too terrible to bear. Rachel turned in circles and tried to find something that would help her escape this prison. When the corkboard filled her gaze, she stopped and stared at the hook meant for their automobile. One of the sets hung from it like an invitation. She snatched them from the hook and turned to the second door that led to the garage. She stopped and stood trembling in place. What if her father had locked the door? She looked down at her white slippers and then turned to see a full moon half-hidden behind black rain clouds. The rain had stopped for the moment, but she could see that the storm might return at any time.
"You can not drive," she said. "You are trapped even if you find some way from here. Where will you go? Surely there is a kind soul willing to help."
Her steps toward the door faltered as she thought of Dr. Reid. He was a kind soul. She could see it in his beautiful eyes. No, he'd lied to her about her disease, her life-long curse.
Did he?
A memory suddenly fought to the surface of her mind. A sunny day, fragrant flowers around her in a meadow of green-yellow grass. The sky overhead as blue as her mother's eyes. Laughter filled this place because she played a game of hide-and-seek with her twin brother, Edward, while mother and father watched them from a wool blanket placed carefully on the ground.
"I'm going to find you," Edward had proclaimed while she'd tried to stifle her giggles.
Sunlight!
Father had insisted that sunlight was fatal. He said that it was the sun that had killed Edward, but what if that were a lie. She shook her head. Father was strict and demanded unquestioning obedience, but would he tell such a lie?
Her hands trembled as she reached for the door and turned the knob. The door swung open on quiet hinges to reveal a huge garage that had once housed carriages for the family. It was large enough for four cars but held only one automobile. She hesitated, then hurried to the car. She used the key to unlock the door and slid inside. She studied the interior but couldn't figure out how to turn on the engine. Her eyes strayed to the mirror that showed the back seat and rear window of the machine. It was angled in such a way that she noticed something lying on the seat behind her. She shifted around for a better look and her eyes widened in surprise.
CMCMCMCMCMCMCMCM
The third time Spencer awoke from unconsciousness he found himself restrained and lying prone on a hard surface he couldn't see. His eyes found only the ceiling over his head and it was painted with symbols he recognized, but couldn't force his brain to understand.
"You are awake, I see," said a voice to his left.
He turned his head and let out a startled cry of utter surprise and fear. The figure standing over him was naked to the waist, with a shendyt made from a brilliant white cloth that covered the lower half of his body to the knees. The man also wore an elaborately carved and painted head of a jackal over his face.
Annubis! God of the Dead.
Spencer remembered that the Egyptian God was also the God of lost souls and the helpless. Well, he was lost and helpless. He stared at the apparition above him and tried to think of something to say, but the right words wouldn't surface. Maybe he'd suffered more than a concussion and with the electrical charge from the taser – no, it wasn't a physical injury, but a psychological one. He was tired of talking psychos done from the brink. It didn't matter what he said because this man was on a mission and would not be deterred.
"Are we ready?" said the man to someone Spencer couldn't see.
"Yes," answered a familiar voice. It was Jarvis. Another figure came into view and it was Mrs. Jarvis, and this time she wore a black robe and hood. She stared down at him with eyes that sparked something in his soul.
"You don't agree with this," he croaked out. "You think it's all nonsense, but you help your master out of fear."
"Be silent," she said, but there was a tiny crack in her determined façade.
"I will not be silent. You kidnapped me and hold me against my will. I can see from your clothing that you mean me harm. Why else dress as the God Annubis," he directed at the tall figure to his left.
He realized that the decorations over his head with hieroglyphics. Unfortunately, he'd never found the time to learn to read more than a few words of the language. Still, he'd studied Greek, Roman, and Egyptian Mythology.
"What will Annubis say when he weighs your heart?" Reid asked the tall man. "Will your soul be destroyed and your heart devoured by Ammit for the murders you've committed."
"Do not pretend to use the Great God Annubis against me," said the tall man. "I will not be dissuaded by a young whelp like you. You will be the final sacrifice. Behold," the figure swept his arm to the right.
Spencer turned his head and saw a body lying on a slab of marble to his right and near a burning torch that slashed the darkness with its wavering light. The golden light revealed that the body was that of a child and it was wrapped in cloth that had once been white but was now stained and dark. Something sat on the chest of the corpse, something made from a blue stone with gold decoration. Several jars with the heads of Jackals, stood outlining the small body.
"My dear son, Edward." Said the tall man and Spencer heard tears in his voice.
"You can't bring him back," Spencer said. "Why are you attempting to drag him back from the Field of Reeds? You'll take my life for nothing and your son will still be dead.
"My son is trapped in the Underworld by the demons that inhabit it. I must save him. The sacred scarab will lead him back to me." The tall man indicated the object on the boy's chest. "I studied the ancients and their embalming techniques. I have created canopic jars for his vital organs as you can see. All is in readiness."
"Edward wouldn't want this," Spencer said as the tall man began to chant in an ancient language unknown to the genius.
The tall man took a dagger from a third figure that joined Mrs. Javis and the tall man in a triangle around him. The blade shined in the light like a beacon of destruction. The highly polished hilt was decorated with rubies and sapphires. Spencer could see that it had been honed razor-sharp and fear slammed into his gut like a fist. He began to twist and struggle against the bonds that held him down, but he couldn't make them loosen.
"Please," he screamed. "I am a stranger to you. This sacrifice will not work."
The tall man, Jarvis and Mrs. Jarvis stood around him and chanted in ever-increasing tones. Spencer understood only, the intermittent calling of Annubis. Incense and other herbs danced together in a pungent miasma that made him choke and cough. The room seemed to grow colder around him and the light wavered as his eyelids began to blink rapidly against its brightness.
No! You will not go into shock!
He bit down hard on his tongue and the bright pain yanked him back to stark reality. The tall man stood above him and held the dagger high in both arms.
"Please, don't do this. I'm an FBI agent and my team will come looking for me."
The tall man continued to chant as though he didn't hear Spencer. The dagger gleamed like a diamond in the light and Spencer found he couldn't pull his eyes away from it. It fascinated him as a flame drew in moths to its destructive light. Perhaps it was better this way. His mother had once again withdrawn back into the fog of her disease, never to reappear. JJ had said she loved him, but she was completely committed to Will and her family. Why hadn't she said something years ago was a mantra he couldn't get out of his head. He had nothing left.
The chanting stopped and the tall man said in English. "Oh Great God Annubis, accept this sacrifice and free the soul of my beloved son Edward from the Underworld."
"No," Spencer said despite his despair at living.
The knife began to descend and the light flashed off the surface into his eyes. He blinked and tried to jerk away from its trajectory to his heart, but the hard surface left no escape. He squeezed his eyes shut and in the half-second left to him he cursed his inability to meet death with open eyes. An unexpected sound, the crack of a gunshot yanked his eyes open just in time to see the tall man crash to the floor with a hole in his chest.