“I will,” I replied to the empty air around me.
Kye was gone. Just like that. The tears kept coming, and I didn’t have the energy to make them stop.
Seth moved over and took me into his arms. He brushed away the tears that were falling. I would meet Kye again someday, but he was gone now. We had won, and he got exactly what he had wanted.
“Our son?” Seth asked. He was in awe of what he had seen.
“Our son,” I replied. It was strange to already know what kind of man my child would be when he grew up.
I let out a sigh of relief. We had come far since I went off to college. All I wanted was a little adventure, a little freedom, a little fun. Needless to say, I never expected what I had found at college. My life had changed, and all for the better. I was exactly where I was meant to be. Egypt, the past, my parents together, and Seth were all blessings I would have never even known to ask for. It was much more than I ever wanted. All I could do was thank fate and the goddess for letting me have all that I did. I didn’t expect life to be easy, and I didn’t know what my future was going to bring, but I was ready for it. At least after I talked to the goddess and gave her back her powers. I didn’t want to be a goddess. I didn’t want to time travel anymore. I just wanted to stay with Seth and have the future we were always meant to have.
“We did it,” I said into Seth’s chest as he hugged me tight. It was strange to know it was all over.
“We didn’t,” Seth replied. “You did.”
Epilogue
The goddess watched Charles Kester walk slowly through the museum. It wasn’t like it was his first, or would be his last time there. They’d been there not even a week ago, but he just couldn’t keep his grandchild away. His adopted daughter and grandchild were his life. He couldn’t help but spoil them both. The ancient history section called to the kid each time. Charles hurried to catch up as the youth turned the corner and headed toward the traveling exhibit. It would never get old to the child.
“Wait for me,” Charles called out.
There was no waiting. That youthful energy didn’t wait.
Charles hobbled along as quickly as he could. He didn’t worry too much. It wasn’t like the child was going to disappear. Charles knew his grandchild would be sitting in front of the museum associate, listening to the same story the curator told, no matter who was working today. They all told the same stories, but the youngster didn’t care. His grandchild was more like him than he ever would have guessed, particularly since they didn’t share the same blood.
“Grandfather, hurry up,” the child called to him.
Charles shuffled down the line of waiting people that the kid had already passed. Old, young, American and foreign, the mixed crowd was different every day they came to see it. The pharaohs, no matter how long they had been gone, were always an attraction for people. The child didn’t want to see the exhibit, just to hear the stories. Charles stopped behind and placed his hands on his grandchild’s shoulders.
“Welcome back, Mr. Kester,” the curator said. It was the young female. Charles liked this one. She tended to get off track and tell them interesting tidbits when she was reciting the speech she was made to memorize.
“And here we have displayed artifacts from the tomb of Ramses the Second, better known as Ramses the Great. He’s one of the most well-known and prolific builders of the New Kingdom. This is a rare chance to see these since they rarely leave Egypt.”
Charles coughed. It wasn’t a rare sight for him. They had seen them four times already, and his grandchild was begging to visit the next museum they were off to.
“He was an interesting pharaoh. If you look back at the line of succession, you will find he’s one of the few pharaohs that came from a common line. His father and his grandfather were not born pharaoh. His father was the pharaoh Seti, the son of the great military leader, General Paramessu, better known as Pharaoh Rameses the First. When the Pharaoh Horemheb grew older without an heir, he named his general next in line, and hence the great Ramses family came to rule Egypt. They brought a new life to Egypt after years of internal turmoil, and led the country to decades of prosperity in commerce and military.” The curator smiled at the young kid in front of her.
“Did you know that Rameses the Great was a military expert that campaigned endlessly to expand and rule the lands around Egypt? When they looked at his mummy just a few years ago, they were unsure what his cause of death was, but they were certain he wasn’t a leader that watched his military from the sidelines. He had healed bones from multiple breaks and probably survived more than a few skirmishes with the enemy.”
The child’s eyes went wide at the suggestion of war. Charles patted his grandchild’s head.
“Ramses the Great was also probably one of Egypt’s most well-known builders. He went on to build the most extensive list of buildings since the great pyramids fifteen hundred years before him. The Ramesseum, the Great Temple at Abu Simbel, Pi-Ramesses—where his home was housed—and monuments throughout Egypt and Nubia. He had the largest tomb in the Valley of the Kings with an estimated two hundred rooms. Can you imagine how much he took with him to the afterlife?”
Charles chuckled. No one could imagine that much stuff. He had read extensively on this pharaoh and knew that it wasn’t just stuff in the tomb. The Great Pharaoh had an extensive family to go with everything he built.
“Due to looting, he was transferred multiple times, but as you can see today, he was never lost,” the curator continued.
Many people began to gather behind Charles and his grandchild as the woman talked.
“He has been kept in Egypt in the Cairo Museum, but once took a trip once to France. There was a fungal infection that was destroying his mummy, and he was moved to Paris to be cleaned and preserved. While there I can tell you about a little-known fact they found. There they examined the hair of Rameses I and found that his hair was naturally red. Yes, you heard me correctly. Red.” She paused to the gasps of her audience.
“It turns out that there’s a culture of naturally occurring redheads in North Africa that rival the number of redheads in Ireland in occurrence in their population. In reality, it makes even more sense since they’ve found that his father, Seti the first, had red hair also. Red-headed Egyptian pharaohs… now that’s a book someone should write.” The guide chuckled to herself. “Any questions?”
The young child moved away to look at the artifacts, eyes scanning over each item. The young child stopped to look at the picture on display of the pharaoh’s mummy.
“Grandfather, why does it always seem like I know him?” the child asked.
Charles looked at the pictures hanging behind the display. There was the mummified face of one of the most famous pharaohs, but what got to him were the artistic renditions of him. He did seem familiar.
Charles looked up to the young woman waving to him from the exit of the line. The child looked to Charles first, and then ran to his mother. Charles smiled as she scooped the child up into her arms. It had only been seven short years since he had had found the girl huddled on his boat, but he didn’t regret bringing her home for a day. She and her child were family to Charles now.
Charles went to leave, but stopped to look at the painted faces again. The great Ramses looked familiar, but even more so were his father and mother. Charles stared at the face of the young woman. He didn’t feel connected to the great pharaoh like his grandchild did, but he was drawn to the great pharaoh’s mother. Her name was labeled as Tuya, but that didn’t seem right to him. The guide never spoke of her, but only of the great pharaoh’s father, Pharaoh Seti I. Her hair seemed off. He could imagine her more as a vibrant redhead than the depiction with the dark black wig the queen wore. He stared at her face and got stuck on her eyes. Whoever the artist was, he captured her eyes perfectly, just like Charles saw in his dreams at night. She was always there. She was happy and that made him happy. He didn’t know why he felt it, but he did.
“Grandpa, hurry
up,” his grandchild called to him.
Charles broke his gaze from the face of the queen that fascinated him. The exhibit was leaving in days, but that didn’t matter. He didn’t need to see the picture to remember the queen mother. He would see her in his dreams.
Charles made his way over to his waiting family. The child grabbed his hand quickly.
“Still stuck on that girl?” Charles’ adopted daughter asked as she took the kid’s other hand.
Charles nodded. He couldn’t explain it and felt too foolish to tell her that he dreamed of her. In fact, he dreamed of her, her mother, her pharaoh, and everyone in a time he could have never met.
They began their walk back past the exhibit line to go into the rest of the museum. The child broke off his hold on both of them and ran back to the line.
“Come back here,” his mother called.
“It’s okay,” Charles replied. “I’ll go this time.”
Charles hobbled back to the line and found his grandchild. He was attracted to the great pharaoh, Charles was almost afraid of how he would react when the exhibit left. He’ll probably insist they move to Egypt to be near the mummy.
“Come now, we have to go.” Charles took the child’s hand again.
“I think he misses me,” the child said.
“I’m sure he does, and why wouldn’t he? I’d miss you if you went away,” Charles patted his grandchild’s back. “Now, if we don’t go join your mother, you know she won’t come again.”
The child gave one last whimsical look to the same pictures Charles was drawn to.
“Yeah, yeah. I know.”
They walked back slowly, neither really wanting to leave.
“Mommy, Mommy, can we go see the mummies?” the young child called as he ran to his mother.
“Yes, Miller, we can,” she replied and rolled her eyes in exasperation. Looking at the exhibit wasn’t enough. The child always had to see the mummies, too.
“Can I be a mummy when I grow up?” Miller asked.
“You can be anything you want to be,” she replied back. Charles hated to encourage the child, but Melissa knew just what to say to keep Miller happy. Wasn’t that enough?
“Grandfather?” Miller paused.
“Yes?”
“Do you believe in fate?”
Charles was taken back by the question. What seven-year-old talked about fate?
“Yes,” Charles replied.
How could he not? Fate was what brought him both Melissa and Miller. Fate had been kind to this old man, who never had children of his own. He didn’t have the life he thought he would live. He didn’t have the child he remembered in his dreams, but he did have happiness that he should never have had. Yes. Charles Kester believed in fate. The goddess smiled down at the old man. This was how it was always supposed to end.
Thank you so much for reading. If you liked it, please leave me a review so more people will find this series. –BK
Acknowledgements
As with any work of fiction, there are many people to thank along the way.
To you, the reader. Thank you, thank you, thank you for taking the time to read this story and go on the journey with me. If you liked it, please leave a review on your favorite online bookseller (or all of them!) and connect with me on Twitter, Facebook, Goodreads, etc. The greatest help you can be to keep a writer going is to support them by spreading the word about their books, and leaving them encouraging words. If you are really inspired, join my mailing list to get updates first on my current and future writings, I announce all of my sales to my e-mail fans.
Also, I would like to thank my editor and cover designers. A good editor is essential to getting the story correct. Thank you so much, Kathie, for catching all those errors and making this a much better book. Thanks to Ashton Brammer for the second edit to make this book even better and catching those little glitches. A thank-you to my cover artist, Alexandria, at Gothic Fate for such a pretty cover. A great cover helps get people interested. They may say never judge a book by its cover, but everyone does! I greatly appreciate all those that can do what I cannot, like editors and cover designers. I’m grateful I was able to find great professionals to work with on this book.
I’d like to thank my hubby for continuing to push me further down the writing road. He gives me time when I need it to work on my stories. He encourages me to keep going each and every day on this adventure. And he does all the behind-the-scenes effort to make this work (have you seen my trailers—he is awesome). This would be so much harder without his help. So thank you, B. for pushing me off the deep end (or the cliff as I see it sometimes). And a great big thanks to my little munchkins who keep me going from before the sun comes up ‘til long after it sets. Being a mom is probably the best job in the world. Love you AK, KB, and EM.
Thank you so much for taking the time to read my novel!!
About the Author
B. Kristin graduated with her PhD in biology at Ohio State where she worked as a scientist before taking her passion of writing full-time. Besides writing, she enjoys chasing her kids, playing outside, and baking cookies.
B. Kristin McMichael lives in Ohio with her husband and three children.
Other Books By This Author
The Night Human World
The Blue Eyes Trilogy (Series One)
o The Legend of the Blue Eyes
o Becoming a Legend
o Winning the Legend
The Day Human Trilogy (Series Two)
o The Day Human Prince
o The Day Human King
o The Day Human Way
The Skinwalkers Witchling Trilogy (Series Three)
o The Witchling Apprentice [2016]
The Chalcedony Chronicles
o Carnelian
o Chrysoprase
o Aventurine
o Chrysocolla
Standalone Books
o To Stand Beside Her
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Chrysocolla Page 24