The Ways of Eternity

by D.A. Dean

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  Birds. Horus could hear them. Hear. He pricked his ears. The gentle rustling of the wind through the reeds, the serene whooshing of the ocean. He returned his attention to the birds' chirps and warbles. They were singing. Night was nearing dawn.

  He stirred, and a reed quivered across his face. The reed's scratch was sharp, but it didn't burn. Hopeful, he stretched out his hands. His fingers found objects. Mind marveling, he flicked and stroked, lingering over reed, water, his foot, thigh, forearm, face. He drew a breath. The air was sweet, layered with the salt of sea and the freshness of morning sunshine. Right. He ran his tongue over his teeth, around his mouth, and then licked the back of his hand. Mud. Sweat. Good. He spit out muck and blood. Aching for water, he swallowed scant saliva.

  All his senses tested but sight, Horus chewed his lip. "Take care of thirst first," he rhymed, pushing back anxiety. Eyes shut tightly, he drew his fingers along the muck till he found, with a frisson of pleasure, shallow water. Clumsily, he skimmed, drew his unsteady hands to his lips, and slogged down what he hadn't dribbled away of the dank liquid. His throat and insides, hollow with thirst, demanded more.

  Leaning forward on hands and knees, he thrust down his face. His nose touched water. He started, blinking.

  He blinked again. There was only blackness. Hot tears streaking his cheeks, he sat back and covered his eyes.

  No, he wouldn't think about it. He would give it time. He rested his hands on his thighs, tipped his face to the warmth of sun, and was still. He opened his eyes.

  Despair cutting through him, he rubbed his eyes then opened them wide. Nothing. Well, then he might as well lie down and wait for his end. Blind, he'd have no way of defending himself.

  He straightened. No, he had to think about practical matters, about what he could do. He wrapped his hands around his knees, his focus shifting swiftly among the reeds. Did the frogs really need to hop around so much? Must the insects swarm so fiercely? He shook his head. Why couldn't he concentrate? "Yes, Nalia, I know," he said, shrugged to his empty space of marsh, and repositioned his legs. "Fear." But that was the easy answer. What lay beneath it?

  Sadness. Confusion. Why were the feelings visiting? He frowned. Rather obvious. Was there an unknown reason? No? 'Sad' and 'confused' just wanted to be recognized, did they? "Alright," he said aloud, fearful he was losing his mind, "you can consider yourselves recognized. Can I concentrate now?"

  He pushed down his shoulders. Practical matters. He couldn't see, but he had again all his other senses. So, what now? He could crawl back. And hope he didn't disturb a crocodile. He shuddered. Better to stay put. At least here, on his little rise, he'd be able to hear anything or anyone approach.

  What about Teo and Nalia? Regret stirred within him. How desperate their worry must be. He should ease it. He should call out to them. They'd come, lead him back to the clearing. But something was still wrong. He had to remain alone.

  Absently, Horus rubbed his eyes then brushed his fingers through the trickle of water beside him. Had he wished away his sight when he wished away his vision of Teo's death? That couldn't be right. No, his sight would return. He just had to stay alert and be patient. Wryly, he laughed. It was, it seemed, now time to make use of Teo's lessons.

  Horus' head ached. No reason to stay sitting. He settled into the hollow beside him. His body began to throb.

  What now? He lifted. His forearm snapped.

  He fell back with a moan. He'd endured hundreds of falls, results of accidents and miscalculations, and he'd never broken a bone. Why now, with no injury to cause it? Was this a new danger? Was Seht's wife, Nephthys, casting a spell?

  Tentatively, he moved his hand along his arm to the break. "Ouch," he cried and jerked back his arm. With a crunch, his hand dropped to hang limply from his wrist. Teeth gritted, he slid his arms to his sides. They touched earth, and up and down their length their bones splintered.

  Horus' insides roiled. He twisted, his ribs cracking with each movement. "Mother, help me!" His jaw crumbled.

  A fragment of reed landed on his right foot. Its arch broke in half. The muscles around it and up his leg tightened in response, and he heard the clatter, felt the tension then sharp release of his leg breaking, breaking, up to his hip. His hip shattered. The breaking of bone inched down his left leg.

  Awash in pain, he clenched earth, and his fingers seemed to burst. The terrible exploding moved up his arms, creating spasms, further separating each fracture, and reached his shoulders. His collar bone bowed and snapped. His shoulder blades collapsed. His breastbone cracked. His ribs ground together, crushing against his lungs, each strained breath sending a shock in circular waves through the length of his body, till only his spine and skull remained intact.

  Was this his fate, to perish here, alone, without learning his powers, without fulfilling his potential, his purpose—his vows?

  Nalia. Teo.

  A tear trailed across his cheek, its bone cracking. Would he turn to dust here, with them never to know what happened, left only with the thought he abandoned them?

  There came a flicker of light. Shadow became form.

  Horus squinted at the sun, shining far more brilliantly than he remembered was possible. Too brilliantly. Clouds coalesced, obscuring it. Rolling his eyes, keeping his head and neck still, he surveyed. A crocodile sidled toward him.

  He stared in disbelief. After all that had happened, surely this wasn't how he was to die. Surely not like this.

  Tail lashing, eyes flashing red, the crocodile crept nearer.

  No. Not like this.

  Dense fog swirled through the marsh and expanded to block the sky. The ground lurched.

  The crocodile vanished.

  Isis was moving the island, her intervention confirming the crocodile had been one of Seht's. Horus had been found.

  How long before Seht arrived? What would become of Horus' family? "Mother, don't let Seht take Nalia and Teo. Please," he called silently, raising slightly his head. His neck snapped. His head landed against the muck with a jarring thud. "I'm as good as dead. Honor my last wish. Save them."

  From the left came the sound of swift movement through the reeds.

  Horus closed his eyes, willing one last silent call, "Mother, I beseech you."

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