Disclaimer –"Yu-Gi-Oh!" and all related characters, events, and concepts belong to Takahashi Kazuki and any other related owners/distributors/producers. I get no monetary benefit from this. My benefit is the enjoyment of dealing with beloved characters.
"Amuletic"
by DragonDancer5150
Chapter 3 – Nemesis
Atem wondered if they would manage to get all the way to the House of Offices where the Royal Physician resided without meeting anyone along the way. Honestly, he doubted it.
He was proven right before they had even crossed the audience chamber. Mahaad, one of the top royal magician-priests, walked into the room just then, his magician's box tucked under one arm. He paused at the sight of the pair, his sharp eyes instantly falling on Atem's marked face. A slender eyebrow rose with the half-concerned, half-amused expression that spread across his graceful countenance. "Dare I ask?"
Atem had stiffened on reflex at first at having been found out, but he relaxed almost instantly. Mahaad was one that he actually did not mind knowing what he had done, if anyone else had to, being another of the few Atem truly trusted, whom Atem knew would be on his side. Mahaad was another of his teachers, the one tutoring him in mystical arts. Despite his young age, Mahaad was talented and powerful, and a prime candidate as the next Bearer of an Item of the Thousand Years of Stability when a position was opened by the inevitable retirement, disability, or death of one of the present Six – Akh-khnum-ka-nen's Weight being the only exception, as it would go to the next pharaoh.
Si-Amun, Atem knew, was aware of his close relationship with Mahaad and gave the magician a rather amused look of his own before asking Atem, "Are you telling him or shall I?"
The story was recounted one more time, and Mahaad frowned deeply at Atem's treatment under his uncle-tutor, but the magician was chuckling by the end, bidding Atem pull back the sash for a moment so he could examine the boy's handiwork. "Well, your artistic skills could definitely use improving, Atem, but you seem to be off to a good start."
Atem blushed under his smeared vulture and cobra drawings. "Thank you, Mahaad." Atem called him by name most times – Mahaad had said he could – calling him "Teacher" only when they were actively studying.
"So where are you headed now?"
"To the physician," Si-Amun responded. "I'll ask if I can give the boy a bath in his chambers."
"So that as few as possible know of this?" Mahaad asked. Si-Amun nodded, and the magician looked thoughtful. "You'll not likely make it without at least a few people noticing . . . and you should know that Akh-n-aden is looking for his errant pupil."
Atem suppressed a gulp at that.
Si-Amun nodded, glancing down at Atem, then looking to the magician. "Perhaps you can help, Mahaad?"
Mahaad considered it a moment, looking as though his line of thought had been the same to start with, and finally he nodded. "Yes, perhaps I can." Crouching, he set down his magician's box and opened it. He sifted through scrolls until he found the one he wanted, and he set it aside. Next, he pulled a pouch of natron and stretched out his arm to sprinkle it over Atem's and Si-Amun's heads, murmuring under his breath as he did so.
Atem suppressed a groan. Mahaad didn't even have to raise his hand above his shoulder to do that. Si-Amun took after the dwarf god, Bes, it seemed, and while the stunted height seemed to have missed his daughter, Nebt-tawya – the Great Royal Wife and Atem's mother – it seemed that Atem himself had not escaped. Even at the tender age of six, Atem knew he was far smaller than he should be. Were he to stand on his grandfather's shoulders, Atem knew that the two of them together would barely reach Mahaad's graceful height. Sometimes, Atem feared how much respect he would ever truly have if or when he became pharaoh after his tall, broad-shouldered father if he himself could not look forward to reaching even five feet in height, his grandfather being not four-and-a-half and well into his forties. He pushed the thoughts from his mind as Mahaad crouched at his magician's box again.
Mahaad pulled his wand and another small pouch from the box and picked up the scroll he'd set aside. Atem had always loved Mahaad's wand, a gently curved piece of flat, finely-carved cedar. Mahaad scattered sand from the pouch all about their feet, then walked around them, crouched and lightly scraping the wood along the plaster floor, drawing in a circle in the thin layer of sand. That accomplished, he straightened, unrolled his scroll until he found the spell he wanted, and began chanting, walking another slow circle as he spoke.
"I am the darkness. I am the darkness of night that steals men's vision and hides them from their enemies. I am the clouds that cloak the stars and shield the moon from sight. Lo! You are blind – a scarf of linen binds your eyes. Lo! You are deaf – soft wax fills your ears. You stumble and fall, and there are none to catch you. No one is there."
Seven times Mahaad repeated his magical declarations, walking slow and graceful rings around the targets of his spell as his wand bobbed gently through the air at the end of his outstretched arm.
Finally, he stopped and turned to face the two directly. "It is done. This is the most powerful invisibility I can offer without more preparation. It will hide you from most people – they'll neither see nor hear you. It would last you a few hours if you avoided all contact, but is broken when you attempt to address someone directly . . . the spellcaster notwithstanding," he added with a grin. "But then, you only need it to work until you see Horwedja."
"Thank you, Mahaad," Si-Amun said, then cocked his head. "You said it works against 'most' people…?"
Mahaad nodded. "Anyone with great enough magic, especially an Item bearer, will still be able to see through the spell."
Atem scowled at that. "So Akh-n-aden will still see us."
"If he happens upon you at all," Mahaad pointed out. "And in the meantime, very few others anywhere in the royal complex will even notice you, let alone be able to betray you to him should he ask around."
"Fair enough, Mahaad," Si-Amun put in. "Thank you very much for this service."
Atem offered a small bow. "Yes, Teacher, thank you." He switched to a title in the hopes of conveying, through respect, just how thankful he was. He truly did not want to find out what Akh-n-aden would do to him if he caught them.
Mahaad gave Atem a small grin, then crouched down to meet him at eye level. "I am always at your service, King's son. You know this."
Tears filled Atem's eyes again at the sight of the sincerity and love in the magician's gaze. "I-I know . . . thank you!" He threw his short arms around Mahaad's shoulders, careful to keep his grandfather's sash between himself and the magician's clothes to keep from smearing kohl on him, and hugged tightly, enjoying the warm, protective, familial embrace Mahaad gave him in return.
Atem released the magician when his grandfather softly prompted, reluctant to let go but knowing they needed to get on their way, and let Mahaad go on his. With one last wave, Atem let Si-Amun take his hand and lead him from the building into the inner courtyard, tucking himself into his grandfather's side. They would have to make it into the outer courtyard, the one that bordered the palace complex at large, and across the wide expanse from the Royal Residences to the House of Offices, passing the Mansion of the God Khnum and the House of Life to get there. Atem held fast to the knowledge that Mahaad was a powerful spellcaster and that they would not be accosted so long as they did not bump into anyone nor address anyone until they reached Horwedja's office.
That faith held true. The two passed guards and servants, scribes and priests all crossing one way or another from building to building to carry out their appointed tasks for king and kingdom. Atem even hesitated in front of one servant who had paused in the shade of a portico, waving a hand in front of the man's face, jumping up and down, and stifling a giggle of amusement when his grandfather tugged on his arm with a soft admonishment to quit playing – the servant never so much as blinked. Atem continued along at Si-Amun's side, thinking how he would ask Mahaad to teach him this spell at their next lesson, dreaming up all kinds of minor mischief he could get into. Who needed a pot when one could just turn invisible?
"There you are, you little rascal."
Despite the midday heat, Atem felt his blood go cold in horror at the growl of the gravelly voice behind him. S-so close! he quailed – the House of Offices stood only a few dozen feet from them now. He curled in on himself for a moment, new tears gathering in his eyes, before he could force himself to straighten, squaring his shoulders to turn and face his hated tutor-uncle…
Only for the firm grip of Si-Amun's hands on his shoulders to keep him from being able to do so. G-grandfather…?
"Yes, Akh-n-aden, here he is," Si-Amun replied, his tone admonishing, "and had you been paying better attention to your pupil's health, he'd have been to the physician all the sooner."
"Excuse me?"
"The boy has a fever and is suffering from chills. I put my sash around him, but he needs a bath to try to break the fever, as well as Horwedja's medicines for his sickness."
Atem heard Akh-n-aden grunt behind him, that sound he made when he wasn't sure he believed something but knew better than to outright disagree for one reason or another. "The boy said his stomach was bothering him and that he was heading for the toilet. How is it you found him before any of the scribes? Haven't you been at the Royal Residences all day?" Atem shuddered, hearing the challenge in his tutor's voice.
Si-Amun huffed, feigning annoyance. "Because he was not at the House of Life when I came across him, Akh-n-aden. The boy is somewhat delusional as well as suffering from vertigo and disorientation. I actually found him out behind the kitchen of all places, though he thought he was in the Mansion of Khnum."
Akh-n-aden snorted, then addressed Atem. "Boy, turn around and face me."
Atem hunched his shoulders, rubbing at his cheeks with the sash in a vain attempt to clean the kohl from them before he obeyed.
The hands on his shoulders tightened, a silent command to not turn around. "Don't be a fool," Si-Amun scolded. "You don't want to fall ill too, do you? As it is, I will have to submit to some treatment myself, I'd imagine, and I've kept the boy away from me as much as possible."
Atem could feel his uncle's mismatched gaze boring into his back, and he suppressed another shudder.
At length, Akh-n-aden relented. "Fine. Get him to the physician, and let me know what he says. I'll be with Shada in the Hall of Records at the Temple of the Ka Tablets until dinner."
"Until later, then."
Atem listened tensely as the soft pads of Akh-n-aden's footsteps grew distant across the hard-packed earth even as they too continued on their way into the foyer of the House of Offices, only relaxing when Si-Amun let go of his shoulders. Still, he didn't dare look over his shoulder. "I-is he gone, Grandfather?"
"Yes, he's gone."
Atem risked a peek behind him, then looked up at Si-Amun. "Y-you . . . you lied to him. For me, I know, but…"
"But lying is wrong." Si-Amun nodded, then pulled a breath, turning Atem to face him more fully. "Generally, yes, my boy, it is. It is wrong to lie to deceive and hurt another. It is wrong to lie to try to protect yourself when you know you have done wrong – instead, you should just face your consequences. But . . . when another has been hurt, sometimes . . . it is acceptable to lie to protect that someone from being further wronged. At this point, you are fine. The lies are on me, and I will deal with that. In the meantime, let's just get you to Horwedja's."
Atem nodded but, before he continued walking, he threw his arms around Si-Amun. "Thank you, Grandfather. I love you…"
"I love you, too, my grandson." Si-Amun's embrace was strong and affectionate. "I love you too."
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