The lioness paced across her cage to the agitation of her cubs. The woman had not moved from her position in front her cage for the better part of an hour. The lioness knew it was Sekhmet in the guise of woman, but how could any creature endure the scrutiny of a goddess. Especially this particular goddess. The lioness had been born at the London Zoo, yet a part of her remembered hot plains, the gathering of great herds of antelope and gazelle at waterholes, the chase, the feel of her jaws on a throat, the taste of fear and nourishment in her mouth. These were not her memories, but those of her kind.

The lioness stopped and looked directly into Sekhmet's eyes, the goddess returned the stare. The great cat saw not the elegantly dressed Victorian lady, but a lion-headed tawny skinned woman with a myriad of tiny braids, tipped in gold beads, hanging past her shoulders, and wearing an elaborately pleated red linen gown. The lioness began a low rumbling in her throat which the lion-headed entity returned.

Vanessa sat up straighter in her chair no longer interested in the letter she was writing. She saw herself at the London Zoological Gardens. She was walking along the paths on Sir Malcolm's arm. They were coming upon the lion cages. Vanessa heard herself say, "What an extraordinary looking woman. She's very exotic."

Sir Malcolm regarded the young woman, there was something very familiar about her. Mariam, no, it couldn't be. That was over twenty years ago. No, very similar to Mariam, but not the same. He replied, "She looks possibly Egyptian despite the Paris fashion."

"I didn't know you followed ladies' fashions."

"I'm fascinated by many aspects of the fair sex, Vanessa. She is a very exotic beauty, but not surprising to see her here, London is a cosmopolitan city."

Vanessa and Sir Malcolm joined the young woman in front of the lion cage. Sekhmet broke her gaze at the lioness. The cat continued to growl softly deep in her throat; her cubs gathered around her paws.

Sekhet nodded prettily, lifted her chin to release a dazzling smile at Sir Malcolm.

"She is a remarkable creature," said Vanessa, referring to the lioness. "Such power and grace. Yet, so gentle with her cubs."

"Yes, she can be, but she can be firm with them, as well," Sekhmet replied. "Being a good parent requires one corrects as well as nurtures." Her voice was exceptionally cultured, beautiful modulated, and utterly English.

"The lioness seems to have quite the affinity for you." Sir Malcolm returned Sekhmet's smile.

Vanessa broke in, "Do you think the lion's are bothered by the cool, dampness of London.? Does something in them miss the heat of Africa?"

Sekhmet regarded her and said. "Perhaps, but not all lions are African. There are lions in India. Xerxes is said to have found lions when he advanced across Macedonia. Lions were said to have lived all around the Mediterranean, even into Spain. Some say that across many millennia in the past native lions walked in Britain. Perhaps that is nothing but fancy. Still, it is said lions have been in London, at the Tower of London, since 1210."

"Dear lady, you are a student of history and zoology . . . Malcolm's voice faded in Vanessa's hearing, the rumble of the lioness grew inside her head, Sekhmet's voice chanting in Egyptian.

Vanessa was looking down on Malcolm, the Egyptian lady, the lions, and herself. She saw herself fainting into Malcolm's arms. She was floating, floating above the zoo, above London.

She saw herself in Sir Malcolm's townhouse. She was walking into the hallway, moving past the top of the staircase. Vanessa saw herself falling, tumbling toward the stairs. She noticed Sembene catching her and caring her like a doll. He was calling for Malcolm.

Vanessa was following a cat through dimly lit, brightly painted tunnels. The cat was a curious looking creature. It was small and black with a gold hooped earring in each ear and two, or perhaps three, golden rings on its tail. She thought it also wore a necklace. The cat continued to lead her through a series of tunnels.

Vanessa saw herself lying in bed. She saw the fading light of dusk filtered through the lace curtains. The room was dimly lit and Malcolm was sitting by her bed reading. He leaned toward her to brush his hand along her hair where it spread across the pillows and whispered, "Vanessa?"

Her eyes fluttered and opened tentatively. She breathed, "Sekhmet awaits."

It was impossible for her to read Malcolm's shadowed eyes, but he sounded concerned. "You've been hallucinating, Vanessa. You need to rest"

She lapsed back to unconsciousness.