Survival Instinct

"Wretch! cried the Genie. Is it not enough that I have done everything for you, but you must command me to bring my master and hang him up in the midst of this dome? You and your wife and your palace deserve to be burnt to ashes, but that this request does not come from you, but from the brother of the African magician, whom you destroyed. He is now in your palace disguised as the holy woman, whom he murdered. He it was who put that wish into your wife's head. Take care of yourself, for he means to kill you.' So saying, the genie disappeared."

"Aladdin went back to the Princess, saying his head ached, and requesting that the holy Fatima should be fetched to lay her hands on it. But when the magician came near, Aladdin, seizing his dagger, pierced him to the heart. What have you done? cried the Princess. You have killed the holy woman! Not so, replied Aladdin, but a wicked magician. He told her of how she had been deceived."

"After this Aladdin and his wife lived in peace. He succeeded the Sultan when he died, and reigned for many years, leaving behind him a long line of kings. The end," Khalil closed the book gently. He took a long drink. Reading for so long made him very thirsty.

"What did you think of ... of the magician's brother in the end?" croaked Professor Hammadi propped on pillows while lying on a blanket shaded by two large umbrellas. "Was he right in ... in seeking vengeance against Aladdin ... for killing his brother?"

"I do not know."

"We have talked for a day and more." The professor breathed deeply and closed his eyes as one hiding great pain. "Speak, I know you have opinions, many of them."

"Yesterday Mr. Rampal told me that I must behave myself, not talk so much he said."

Hammadi's voice was strong but raspy. "Do not allow others to ... to subdue your natural ... curiosity, young one. Consider ... consider your gifts, special -" A series of coughs racked his body. Khalil helped him to sit up and held a canteen to his lips. He drank a few drops.

Khalil gently laid the professor back against the low pillows. He scrambled to his feet and scanned the horizon. "Mr. Griffith is late." He looked at the sun and was troubled. "The sun is setting quickly. We cannot stay out here. Animals will be out hunting soon."

"I can ... need to reach the tomb."

"You cannot even stand." Khalil argued. He could not understand why Professor Hammadi was so insistent upon seeing the tomb with his own eyes. Mr. Griffith had done all he could to discourage him but to no avail. They had begun to walk but after an hour the Professor could go no further. Griffith had returned to camp to get help.

"Crawl then. How far ?"

"Not far. Maybe a little less than an hour at our pace."

"I cannot wait." The Professor shook his head violently. He muttered under his breath.

Khalil fashioned one of the tall umbrellas as a makeshift crutch for the old man. Khalil stayed on the other side of the old man. They began their first tentative steps towards the tomb.

The professor pleaded with the Other. Khalil is only a boy. Wait for Eoan. He will serve you well.

Khalil will make a powerful host. I need him.

Hammadi stumbled. Just a boy ... a boy ... you must stop!

His power is pure, his body sturdy, his mind strong yet malleable. I will be again what I was.

The professor fell to the soft sand. No! NO! I will go no further! This stops now. I will not allow you to use ...

I will go on! Reborn as I was meant to be!

Knees collapsed utterly. Hammadi's arms flailed as if fending off some imaginary assailant. My life is a small price to pay.

Close I am to my power here. I need only your body now not your presence, fool! Your usefulness is at an end.

"Professor! Professor!" Khalil cradled the man in his arms.

The professor's body convulsed several times. Bits of blood dribbled out of the side of his mouth.

"What? Are you all right? We should just wait here until Mr. Griffith returns with help." Khalil swallowed his panic. He felt some relief when the professor seemed to calm.

Aged eyes fluttered twice. Khalil recoiled. The brown eyes were gone replaced by ones that shown as deeply red as fresh drawn blood.

"P-p-professor?"

"I am only one now." Abraxos pronounced. "Do not be afraid, young one. We go on."

As Khalil helped the man to his feet, he could sense a new strength in the tired man's limbs. Though his steps were slow, they did not fail as before. Abraxos leaned heavily on the umbrella crutch and urged Khalil to march ahead of him. "Distract our minds from our journey, young one. Tell me of yourself, what dreams do you have?"

Khalil's words came haltingly at first then gained speed and confidence. "I hope to go to the English school next term. There are scholarships. I mean to get one once I am there and earned it."

"So, the scholarship is based on merit, scores and such."

"No, based on need."

"Surely you qualify."

"There are others poorer than my family."

"Your family is very prosperous?"

"My father says we are comfortable, not rich."

"Your father is the cook. I did not realize that earned very much."

Khalil laughed. "My father is a merchant. Miss Minerva has a contract with my father. It was he who made arrangements for the tents, the supplies and equipment for the camp. And the workers, too."

"Then why stay on as a cook? Is that not beneath him?"

"We are looking after our investment, professor, so we must be around camp always. The men must be fed well so they can work and be happy. The equipment can be resold at much profit after the expedition is done."

"Ah, so your father is paid twice - once by the expedition and again when the items are sold out. Very wise and efficient." Abraxos thought for a moment then decided that he ought to begin winning the boy over. "I predict that someday, you will be a great man, Khalil, powerful, rich and -"

"And well-liked?"

"You wish to be popular?"

"Liked. I would not want bad things to be said about me."

"You care much for what is said?"

"I care that what is said is true, that is all. If people do not like you, they will say some falsehoods to your face and more falsehoods when you are not looking. I cannot be looking all the time."

Abraxos laughed. "Do you wish to be a merchant like your father?"

"I have brothers who will become merchants, good ones, professor. My father, he says, that I can be something else."

"And what is that to be?"

"I do not know yet. I must learn more then decide."

The professor nodded. He stopped and looked around. There was nothing but dirt, sand and a barely discernible trail that they followed carefully. His senses were getting sharper the closer they came to the tomb. Not much longer. "Khalil, tell me of your family, what are they like?"

The two figures walked on as the sun dipped ever lower. It would be night soon.

Albus and Reza shared the same tent. Reza had wisely intervened between Albus and Piers. It had been a near thing. Inside, they argued and discussed the matter.

"He admitted it! He outright gloated about it!" Albus paced the tent fuming.

"I need proof that Minerva was or is unwilling to be with him." Reza explained. "Fortunately, he has no any legal guardianship over Minerva such as being her husband. Give me proof, Albus. As for the murder of Abdul and Hema that is a separate matter. At least we have the letter in the puzzle box. Did Piers allude to that to you?"

"Not directly but I will make him confess and wring his -"

"Albus, be calm. Think. Killing Piers will not, I repeat not, end the effects of the potion upon Minerva."

"She'll hate me if I kill him." Albus admitted sadly. "She doesn't remember me ... us. She CANNOT remain with him. I will take her back with me by force if I have to."

"She seemed well enough. I do not see any outward marks of maltreatment. I see no significant change in her behavior either. I will speak with the others here and -"

"Wait! She DOES have a relative of sorts."

"Someone who has guardianship?"

"As near to that as there is," Albus sat in his chair quickly arranging parchment and pen on the desk. "Theodore Duval."

"The Theodore Duval? The diplomat and ambassador?"

"She considers him her uncle. He is now headmaster of Beauxbaton in France. He took over management of her trust when her grandmother died. Will he be good enough?"

"Yes, his testimony would bear great weight. Can he come here?"

"I will drag him here myself." Albus continued to write.

There was a great commotion outside. Both men rushed out. Men scurried around herding camels. Reza spotted Piers and Minerva issuing orders left and right.

"What is going on?" Reza asked.

"Professor Hammadi is stranded out there. Eoan just came in." Piers pointed to Griffith laid out on a stretcher. His hands and face were swollen.

Claude applied medicine to the cuts and stings. "Crawled in after getting lost for hours. He's covered in scorpion stings. He must have disturbed a nest."

"How badly is he hurt?"

"The anti-venom will help. He'll be sick for a few days."

"Who is Professor Hammadi?" Albus asked.

"From the Institute in Cairo. He granted as the firman to dig here." Minerva raised herself into the saddle. "Piers, I'll go ahead. If we find them, I'll shoot a flare."

Piers nodded cinching his own saddle. "Right. Take Hamdi and the team. I'll follow with some men and the litter."

Minerva wheeled her mount around and cantered off. The other wizards right behind her.

"What was the professor doing out there? I thought visitors were not allowed to wander on their own," said Albus.

"They're NOT!" Piers replied hotly. "I run a secure and safe camp here."

Claude supplied the answer. "He wanted to see the tomb, Albus. I told him I would arrange proper transport after Minerva allowed us to go back inside but he was most insistent."

"Allowed?"

Piers snorted. "Minerva was disturbed by something inside. I investigated it earlier today. There's nothing dangerous there."

"You didn't see her face when she came out, Piers," said Claude.

"Just the usual enter-at-your-peril curse, Claude, a little more elaborate than the normal ones we've found but nothing special. I discussed it with Minerva and she agreed with me."

"She called it a prison, Piers. The parchment we found bears it out." Claude insisted hotly. "We planned on going back and doing a better survey once she got back on her feet again then -"

"Minerva was ill?" Reza asked. "Recently?"

"Overwork. Exhaustion." Piers said quickly. "Claude, you know how hard she works. She's better now." Piers beckoned Claude to see to Griffith. Then he turned to Albus and Reza. "Wait here. I'm sure we'll find the professor and the boy before too long."

"Khalil ! The boy is out there by himself ?" Albus grabbed the reins of a camel from another man and rode off.

Reza looked inquiringly at Piers. "Boy?"

"A most annoying one but he has his uses." Piers mounted his camel. He eyed Reza who was also mounting a camel. "You don't have to go. Stay here and rest."

"Oh, I've had too many hours on a carpet I need to exercise." Reza led the way out of camp following Albus' trail.

The inner crypt's walls were cold to the touch. In the dim torch light, everything was as he had left it. Abraxos gazed around in appreciation for his well constructed tomb.

Khalil finished lighting a second lantern and looked at the Professor's stomach. The red eyes made him uneasy and he avoided looking into them. "At least we have shelter here until they come for us. Is there something you are looking for, professor?"

"You could say that." Abraxos sat cross-legged on the floor. "Come here. Sit beside me."

Khalil picked a spot in front of the professor with a lantern in between. In the lantern light, the professor's eyes glinted like rubies. Were the professor a younger man, the eyes would have looked powerful. But in his now wrinkled worn face, the effect was disturbing.

"Remember, I said that you would be a great and powerful man?" Abraxos' voice was smooth and low, pitched to persuade and ease not to command.

Khalil nodded.

"I was a great and powerful man once, a very long time ago, and this," Abraxos extended his arms out. "This was built for me."

Khalil laughed loudly.

"Such a sceptic. But I enjoy a challenge." Abraxos smiled. "You like reading about Aladdin and the magical genie. Do you believe that there is such a thing as magical beings?"

Khalil remembered Minerva, what happened with her wand and her turning into a cat. That was magic, wasn't it? But her eyes weren't red, he argued. He could not mention Miss Minerva. That was a secret. He replied, "If they were written about, then they would be real, maybe a long, long time ago."

"Good boy. There were and are still those able to do magic. They can do wondrous, powerful things. Here, let me demonstrate." Abraxos closed his eyes. He raised his hand to chest level palms open.

Khalil felt a decided drop in temperature in the room. He heard a grinding noise, rock against rock, getting louder and closer. A solid shape arose out of the open crypt. It settled between them next to the lantern. It was a statue of an ibis of gold with eyes made of rubies. Khalil gaped at it.

"That is a treasure beyond compare wouldn't you say? This can be yours."

Khalil found his tongue. "How ... how did it ... it flew in the air. I saw it. How?"

"Magic, young one, magic." With trembling hands, Abraxos rubbed the statue fondly. "I can teach you to do that and more, much more, as much as you want. Would you like that?"

Khalil looked at the statue. The gold was pleasing but the eyes were not. They seemed to look right through him and, worse, they reminded him of the professor's eyes. "I might. What would it cost me?"

"A true merchant's son." Abraxos chuckled. "There is no cost in the sharing of knowledge. You are a bright boy and I know that you will learn quickly and master thoroughly."

Khalil thought carefully before replying, "What must I do?"

"I ask only that you trust me. You trust your teachers don't you?"

"I suppose I do."

"Now place one of your hands on the statue and -"

"No."

"No?"

"I ... I cannot trust you unless you trust me. For this knowledge is much and you said that you would share with me all that I wish. Partners share and partners trust. That is what my father says."

Abraxos scolded himself to be patient and not frighten the boy into excessive fear. It was fate that he had been given this boy at this time. With Khalil, Abraxos could truly be reborn again with hundreds of years ahead of him. But possessing a still-pure magical soul was more involved than a simple mortal. He had to tread carefully for his host body was failing. He had to move to another body soon. He was confident of success. It was only a matter of coaxing the boy's full cooperation out of him. "Your father is truly wise. Partners! Yes, that is what we will be. You have guided me to shelter, read to me and took care of me for all that you have my full trust, young one."

"That is different, Professor. That was survival. This is between us. I do not know you. What kind of person are you?"

"I am what you see before you - an old, old man. I can do you no harm. What can I do to gain your friendship and trust?"

Khalil was silent for a moment. "I have it. Let us pretend that I am Aladdin and you are the genie. You ... you will grant me three wishes."

"And you will trust me after I fulfill your wishes?"

"The genie proved his powers by granting the wishes. Aladdin gave the genie his freedom as a show of trust. So will I do. Do you agree and swear?" Khalil held out his hand.

"I agree and swear." Abraxos shook the offered hand.

Khalil shivered as their hands touched. His fingers and hands tingled but not in the pleasant way that had happened when Minerva had touched her wand to his chest. For a moment his hands felt like a hundred tiny nails were being gouged into his skin.

"I must warn you that I am not as powerful as a genie because I am so old." Abraxos coughed. He wiped the bloody spittle with his sleeve. Agreement to cooperate is the first step. Good. Now he must surrender completely. "What is your first wish, young one?"

Khalil walked around the crypt chamber picking up some loose rocks as small as his fist. He laid them out beside the status. "For my first wish, to prove your powers are great, I wish that you turn these rocks into ... into gold, solid real gold."

"Just these? Nothing else?"

"It is not good to be greedy, my father says. This is enough for my school and a new roof for our house."

Abraxos closed his eyes while holding a gnarled hand over the rocks. Perspiration beaded down his face as he concentrated. Were he not so tired, so near death, this task would have not proven so taxing. Khalil watched intently as each of the three stones turned into lumps of gold.

"There." A wave of dizziness overcame Abraxos. "Turning rock to gold is difficult for me but I have done as you wish."

Khalil hefted each rock experimentally. After pocketing the rocks, he studied the aged man. It was very obvious how sick he was. "I'm sorry, Professor. I will make my wishes simpler."

Abraxos breathed deeply and urged Khalil for the next wish.

"Something simple." Khalil muttered. "My second wish is ... is for you to answer any of my questions truthfully."

Too weary to think more upon such a wish. Abraxos waved his hand once. "And your last wish?"

"Wait, I must ask you a question to test my second wish."

"Very well, ask. A -" Abraxos coughed violently. "- question about science, perhaps?"

"Albus said that it is not possible for me to have a cake and eat it too."

"You wish for a cake? Very well."

"No, no. I don't want a cake." Khalil retrieved the golden stones. "All this is too ... too much in exchange for trust and friendship."

"I am an old, dying man. I want nothing from you."

Khalil was silent for a minute. "Answer my question - what do you want from me in exchange for all this?"

Abraxos ground his teeth trying not to open his mouth but the agreement compelled him to answer. "I want ... your will and body enslaved ... to me forever."

Abraxos made to grab him but Khalil scampered beyond his reach and ran. He ran through the tomb and out the entrance. He ran and ran never looking back once.

Abraxos, furious at being tricked, railed and cursed violently. Sudden pain arched through his chest. Blood dribbled down from his mouth. His mortal heart was beating its last pulses. He could feel his extremities becoming lifeless.

I am eternal! I will live again!

The body of Professor Hammadi twitched once then lay still. His chest did not rise for breath. His brown eyes, wide open, saw nothing. Blood dried brown and red on his clothes.

In the flickering lantern light, the ibis statue glowed golden and lustrous as on its first creation. If one looked closely one could see a strange thing - the ruby eyes shone green not red.

"Khalil! Where are you? Khalil!"

Khalil's legs ached. His lungs were on fire. Insects feasted on his legs. Voices, he heard voices. He ran towards his father's voice. He saw camels galloping across the desert. "Papa! Here ... here! Papa!"

Mr. Hamdi gathered his son in his arms. "We were so worried."

"The Professor ... tomb ... possess -" Khalil stammered.

Astride her camel, Minerva shot a flare into the air. She motioned for the rest of the riders to head for the tomb.

Khalil wriggled out of his father's possessive grip. He grabbed at Minerva's leg. "No, Miss Minerva, no! Professor uses magic ... it felt bad, not like yours."

Minerva asked. "When did I use magic on you?"

"He is bad, Miss Minerva. Do not go. Please!"

"Who is bad, Khalil?" Albus pulled up next to Minerva.

Khalil exclaimed, "Albus! You came back just like Miss Minerva said.

"What are you talking about, Khalil?" asked Minerva. "I never said such a thing."

"You said you would forget. You did."

Albus looked at Khalil then Minerva then Khalil again. Albus slid off the camel, kneeled and held the boy by the shoulders. "Stay with your father, Khalil. We will talk later I promise you."

"Do not go there." Khalil pulled out a golden nugget. "Look, he turned this rock into gold and... and his eyes are red!"

As he examined the rock, Albus thought back to Minerva's remarks about Abraxos' tomb. He had a fairly good idea of what to expect. Albus lowered his voice. "I am not without experience in dealing with bad magicians, Khalil." Albus winked. "I am powerful, too."

The sounds of the other outriders approaching reached their ears. Reza and Piers came by.

"Where is Professor Hammadi?" Piers demanded.

Khalil shrank into Albus. One hand held onto Albus' sleeve. "He is in the tomb, Mr. Rampal."

"You left him there alone?"

"No! I ... he ... tried to ... he is sick."

Albus did not miss the change in Khalil's story. "Reza, I believe your expertise will serve us well. Khalil, tell Reza what Minerva told you."

Khalil shot a glance at Piers. "I do not know."

Albus put an arm about the boy. "It's all right. I won't let any harm come to you."

"You can talk to the boy later. We must get to the Professor," urged Piers. He urged his camel forward. He and Minerva headed for the tomb.

Reza dismounted. "Albus, go on. Stop them. No one must enter the tomb. Wait for me." He looked down on Khalil. "Now, tell me quickly what you know."

Albus did not spare a glance behind him as he galloped away. With each stride, he was catching up to Minerva and Piers. His mind was putting together bits of a puzzle - Minerva's change, Khalil's words about Minerva forgetting. One thing he was sure of. He was not leaving Egypt until Piers Rampal had been dealt with.