ACROSS THE AGES
Book One Across the Ages
By
RaShelle Workman
www.polishedpenpress.wordpress.com
www.rashelleworkman.com
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Across the Ages
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Cindy Witch (Blood and Snow)
The Hunter's Tale (Blood and Snow)
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ACROSS THE AGES
BOOK ONE
Copyright ©2014 RaShelle Workman
Polished Pen Press Corp
Digital Edition
This book in its entirety is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard word of this author.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written consent of the author, RaShelle Workman, P.O. Box 1408, Bountiful, UT. 84011.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the creation of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Design copyright @2014 RaShelle Workman
Edited by: Jen Hendricks
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Author’s Note
Across the Ages is a deviation from what I normally write. There aren’t any vampires, werewolves, or witches in this story. There is plenty of adventure, along with romance, ghosts, time travel, and mythology based loosely on old Egyptian gods. I hope you’ll fall in love with the story as much as I have.
Dedication
This story is dedicated to everyone who understands that love isn’t an emotion to be taken lightly. If it’s a forever love, it will cross nations and span time.
Acknowledgements
I have to thank my husband and children for letting me bounce off ideas and helping me create the story of Hathor and Apep.
MAIN MENU
RaShelle’s Books
Author’s Note
Copyright
Acknowledgements
Dedication
The Lovers
SECTION ONE
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
SECTION TWO
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
SECTION THREE
Twenty-Eight
Afterword
About the Author
Contact Information
“Time is life’s heartbeat, each second ticking us toward our end. There’s no stopping it. All we can do is hope to live each moment better than the one before.” ~ Lady Agatha
THE LOVERS
Before the world began, the gods were born. Apep, branded as the god of darkness and chaos constantly warred with Ra, god of the sun. Apep despised himself and his nature. One night he confessed his inexplicable pain to the beautiful Hathor, known as the goddess of joy and love. She was also Ra’s favorite.
Hathor, saddened by Apep’s pain, had compassion on him. She foraged an amulet using soil from her beloved Earth and infused it with the great love she held in her heart. Then she presented it to Apep and explained that wearing the amulet would keep his chaotic nature in check. Over time, Apep and Hathor fell in love and lived happily together for thousands of years.
During that time Bastet, the daughter of Ra was born. Ra deliberately made her without the ability to love. He wanted a focused child and not one flitting around after the needs of her heart. As she grew, the other gods laughed at her, telling her she was deficient. She knew it was true. It hurt that she couldn’t love. She asked her father to give her love, but he refused.
Over time Bastet became jealous of those who could love. She created mischief. Separating couples became her purpose. In spite of all her efforts she couldn’t divide Apep and Hathor. Their love for each other trumped every kink Bastet threw their way. Once, she even tried disguising herself as Hathor so Apep would take her. But Apep knew her plan and dismissed her from his room, telling her it was a good thing he wore the amulet or she’d be dead.
She’d found his weakness at last. In a rage, she poisoned Apep and Hathor, causing them to fall into a deep sleep. Then she snuck into their bedchamber, stole the amulet from Apep’s neck, ripped it in half and flung the two pieces down to Earth.
When Apep and Hathor woke, Apep’s chaotic nature emerged in full force. He raged. Hathor tried to calm him, but without the amulet his inherent dark and chaotic nature couldn’t be contained. Unable to control himself, Apep killed Hathor.
When she discovered what Apep had done to Hathor Bastet laughed with glee. She’d succeeded once again.
Devastated by what he’d done, Apep went to Ra and pled with the god to allow him to take Hathor’s body so he could bury her within her beloved Earth.
Ra agreed
on the condition that Apep promised to become Earth’s night. Apep swore he would. With Ra’s blessing, Apep took his beloved Hathor’s body and buried her. In the dirt above her body a meadow of heart-shaped clover grew. But soon the clover began to wither and Apep knew it was because the sun had shone for too long. So he fulfilled his promise to Ra and became the night.
Ra, grateful for Apep’s sacrifice, allowed the darkness and light to fade into each other by creating the sunrise and the sunset, thus giving Apep the opportunity to see Hathor’s meadow of clover twice each day.
The gesture infuriated Bastet. She demanded that Ra destroy Apep. Using his daughter’s grief against her, Ra commanded Bastet to become the moon and stars of Earth. She agreed on the condition that he would give her the ability to love. He agreed. As punishment for murdering Hathor, Bastet exploded into billions of twinkling lights, creating the stars. The largest piece, Bastet’s dark heart, became the moon.
When the sky was complete, Bastet asked her father to give her love. But Ra refused to answer her and Bastet realized her father’s treachery. Heartbroken, she began to snuff out the stars and turned her heart from Earth.
Ra understood at last the depth of his daughter’s jealousy, but it didn’t change his feelings for murdered Hathor, his favorite.
In an effort to save the planet Hathor had been buried in and still appease his Bastet, Ra made another deal. If she could bring Hathor and Apep’s broken amulet pieces back together, then Ra would destroy the night, return Bastet to her regular form, and give her the ability to love. But there was a catch: the amulet’s power would only work during when the moon was full or new.
She agreed and searched for the amulet pieces a million years. Finally she found one but had no way to retrieve it. She begged her father for help, but he’d grown weary of the situation and refused. Bastet, unwilling to give up, began influencing humans. But there was something Bastet hadn’t counted on. Not everyone could see or touch the amulet, only those humans whose hearts were open to true love. The power within would bind with the human and whisk them to their true love wherever that person might be in place and time.
Bastet still searches…
Because when the two pieces of the amulet are brought together, she’ll no longer be the moon and the stars. She’ll no longer sway the tides or keep the Earth spinning on its axis. In essence, Earth’s destruction is imminent.
SECTION ONE
ONE
TO CATCH A HUSBAND
London, England 1815
AMIDST THE crushing parties of Almack’s, the afternoon carriage rides, and the changing necklines and hemlines of the ton, one thing remained the same. During the early months of the year hopeful girls and their calculating mothers prepared for the Season in London with singular purpose: to catch a husband.
At the moment though Lucy was only concerned with catching the mouse that kept shredding pages from her books and using them to make a nest in the back of her wardrobe.
She got down on hands and knees, holding in one hand a pillowcase she’d fashioned into a trap. The gray mouse was pressed against the back wall, his little whiskers twitching nervously.
“Harriet, get off that chair you scaredy-cat. The poor mouse is more afraid of you than you are of it. I need you to bring over that platter of food.” Lucy pointed to the tray sitting on her bed. Her appetite wasn’t what it used to be. And who could blame her? A husband had already been caught for her. Tonight, at the ball to celebrate her eighteenth birthday, her father would announce her engagement to Dashel Rothchild.
“Harriet,” she hollered, more insistent.
Her lady’s maid carefully climbed off the chair and tiptoed over to the bed where she picked up the tray filled with biscuits, preserves and cheese. “Here you are, Miss.” She set it on the wood floor next to Lucy before jumping back on the chair.
“Thank you,” Lucy said with an exasperated laugh. Harriet was a dear girl but she lacked Lucy’s fortitude. “Look what I have for you, mouse.” She broke off a piece of cheese and tossed it softly toward the mouse in the wardrobe.
Its nose and whiskers moved quickly as it assessed the treat Lucy had thrown it.
“Come on, troublemaker, lest you make me late to my own engagement.” Under her breath, she added, “Not that I mind.”
The mouse took a hesitant step forward, picked up the cheese in its tiny pink paws and began eating.
“See, that wasn’t so hard.” She kept her voice soft and soothing, like when she talked to a new horse. “Here’s a bit more.” She tore off another chunk and threw it in. The mouse stuffed the remainder of the first piece in its mouth and moved to the newest piece. He sniffed before picking it up and eating.
Lucy clapped quietly, proud that her plan seemed to be working. “You are handling the situation marvelously, mouse. Just a little closer and I’ll put you in this pillowcase. But fear not,” she continued, tearing another piece of cheese and throwing it in. “I won’t hurt you, I’m only going to send you outside.” She watched the mouse eat. Glancing at Harriet, who looked ready to faint, she went on, “He’s kind of cute. You’ve no need to be frightened.”
“You donna’ understand, Miss. They like to climb in my hair.”
Lucy thought about that. “I’m sorry, Harriet. If I had a mouse climb in my hair that would frighten me as well.”
“That’s alright. Shall I run down and fetch Patrick? He could have the mouse caught n’ killed in no time.”
Lucy placed the final piece of cheese on the edge of the wardrobe. “That’s precisely the reason you mustn’t summon Patrick. I do not wish the mouse dead, only out of my wardrobe.”
Lucy ever so slowly lifted the pillowcase to the edge. If the mouse became frightened it would run. She needed to be quick. As the mouse ambled near the edge, it sniffed the air. Perhaps checking for danger.
“You’re safe, little mouse. Just pick up the cheese.”
The mouse studied her with its glassy black eyes. After several long moments, it must’ve decided it wanted the cheese more than it worried about Lucy. The mouse picked up the cheese and began to nibble.
Lucy threw the pillowcase, but the mouse was too quick and dashed under it, onto the floor and then ran under Lucy’s bed.
“Blast,” Lucy shouted, standing.
Harriet squealed, hugging the hem of her dress to her chest. “Are you going after it?” Harriet asked.
Lucy peered under her bed where she could see the shine of the mouse’s eyes. “Little trickster, you’re safe for now.” She stood, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the full-length mirror standing next to her wardrobe. She had on her chemise, stay, petticoat, and silk stockings. “I suppose I should find something to wear. Dashel isn’t going to get engaged by himself.”
“You’re right, Miss. To catch yerself a husband yer hav’n to have the proper trap.” She grinned at her cleverness.
Lucy smiled. Harriet was two years younger than herself, but she seemed more astute in the ways of the world. “You know good and well he is already caught, but he is not my match.” She picked through the brand new gowns in her wardrobe. Her mother had been adamant she have the best of everything and several of each style for whatever the occasion. Lucy had morning gowns, visiting gowns, walking gowns, promenade dresses, carriage dresses, two riding habits, four dinner dresses, and twenty ball gowns as well as three incredibly fancy dresses to be used when she was presented to the Queen. Her mother hadn’t wanted her to be seen in the same gown twice. Lucy knew the small fortune her mother spent had nothing to do with love of her daughter and everything to do with how she would be portrayed in society. Her mother was always very conscious about appearances. Very little was ever focused on the soul.
There’d been a time when Lucy’s greatest wish had been to marry, like her mother. She’d spent hours lying in the clover meadow behind her house in Sothersby, staring up at the overcast sky, and imagining her perfect husband. He would be tall. Irresistibly handsome. His hair wou
ld be well kept, his lips full, but not thick. She would imagine the dashing way he wore his breeches, jacket, and cravat. When the time was right, she and her fiancé would marry in front of three hundred of their dearest friends. Afterward, they would vacation along the Thames for six months, and then move into their London home. Theirs would be the hub of all the best social gatherings. Occasionally they’d make an appearance at the most fashionable parties—she in a beautiful gown and he in his finest dress coat. She would smile demurely behind her fan as she listened to gossip about her and her husband. People would say things like: “I hear he brings her flowers every day,” and, “It’s scandalous the way her husband looks at her.” He would be kind, well educated, driven, and self-assured.
Lucy had indulged in such daydreams when she’d been young, too young to understand the reason her mother, Lady Kathryn Channing often cried or why her father, the Earl of Sothersby drank port until his face turned red and his belly grew large. Today though she was eighteen, and no longer a child. No longer naïve in the ways of the world.
Lucy understood her parents didn’t love each other. Theirs was a marriage of convenience, based on barely contained tolerance. That apathy translated to their eldest daughter. She was a means to increase the family’s standing. And her parents, not given to wasting time, had already found her a suitable match. Tonight would be her birthday celebration, her coming out ball, and her engagement announcement.
The problem as Lucy saw it, was that she didn’t love her soon-to-be intended. As she pulled dress after gorgeous dress from her closet and then tossed them on her bed, she wished she could go back to that innocent time when she believed her life had limitless potential and that one day her prince would come.
Across the Ages (Across the Ages Book One) Page 1