Time Anomaly: A Time Travel Romance (Echo Trilogy, #2)

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  Watching a slender young servant girl pass wearing only a delicate golden circlet around her neck and a black loincloth that resembled modern bikini briefs, I had a brilliant idea. Maybe I could find some underwear. I tapped Kelain’s arm and pointed to the girl.

  Kelain shook her head, clearly not understanding my request.

  I exhaled heavily and strode over to Heru. “Do women ever wear something under their dresses like what that young woman is wearing?” I asked, again pointing to the nearly naked servant.

  Heru’s brow furrowed. “Would that not be a bit confining?” He shook his head. “No, it is better to let everything breathe.”

  I glanced down the length of hard-packed muscle that covered his body, lingering on his kilt. Due to the way it was wrapped around his body and knotted just under his navel, the linen garment hung longer around the back and sides, and pulled up to above mid-thigh in the front, with a longer flap hanging down the center. I knew exactly what those linen folds hid, and thinking that he wasn’t nearly as concealed as I’d assumed was going to drive me just a little bit mad.

  “So you just walk around, letting it all hang out?” I asked.

  Heru fought it for a moment, but his lips spread into a wide grin and he laughed out loud. “Let it all hang out,” he repeated. “Indeed I do, as does your husband. How do you not know this?”

  “I . . . well . . .” I shrugged.

  “You should pay more attention next time you and he—” Awareness dawned on his face, and he leaned in closer, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply. When he pulled away, his eyebrows were raised and his golden irises were bright. “Except it would not be a ‘next time,’ because there has been no first time.”

  “We are not talking about this.” I spun away from him.

  He caught my arm, holding me in place long enough to whisper, “He is a fool,” then released me.

  My heart was pounding and seemed to have relocated to my throat. Heru thought Nuin was neglecting me, and he felt sorry for me. I longed to tell him the truth, that the marriage was a farce and that I was from the future and truly bonded to him, but that wasn’t an option.

  While I watched Heru complete the transaction with Kelain, I remained silent, my expression guarded. I paid her a small handful of turquoise beads when Heru directed me to do so. He sent two porters back to the villa, one carrying the basket filled with the dresses we’d purchased and one carrying a thick bundle of several different types of linen, all folded and rolled tightly and wrapped in a protective reed sheath that reminded me of a sushi roller.

  Each stop after that was much the same, aside from the vendors not attempting to strip off my clothes. We spent some time at a stall that offered a wide assortment of containers. Most were a variation on the lidded basket Kelain had packed my purchased clothing in, but there was a smattering of wooden boxes and chests as well. Heru selected several baskets of different sizes, then helped me pick out a cosmetic chest, the ancient Egyptian version of a vanity. I only had three options, so it wasn’t like the decision was excessively difficult.

  I settled on a piece much like Nuin’s, constructed from a polished, brownish-red wood and inlaid with ivory in geometric patterns around the border of each face. After we paid, Heru removed a dozen more beads from my little treasure box and handed them to the last of our porters. The young man listened to Heru’s instructions, then trotted off into the throng of shoppers, traders, and other porters.

  I watched as the crowd swallowed him up. “Where is he going?” I asked Heru.

  “He can gather the amenities you will need to fill out that chest easily enough on his own.”

  I cocked my head to the side.

  “We are running out of daylight, and I dislike the idea of keeping you out on the streets once the sun has died.” Not set, but died—which seemed appropriate, considering the sun, symbolizing the god Re, was believed to enter the land of the dead every night as it sank into the western horizon, then reemerge into the land of the living as it rose each morning in the east. “The jeweler will be our last stop today. If there is anything else you need, we can send someone out tomorrow morning before we depart.”

  “Okay . . .”

  He placed a hand on the small of my back and remained close as he guided me through a crowd that showed no signs of thinning. We were nearing the Nile’s western bank, and the people bustling around us were becoming more unseemly looking, their linen clothing dirtier and tattered and their bodies in need of a good wash.

  I tilted my head so my mouth was angled up toward Heru’s ear. “Is this the bad part of the market?”

  He kept a wary eye on the crowd. “It did not used to be, but with the droughts . . .”

  “There have been droughts?” I asked, my curiosity piqued. Years of back-to-back droughts that devastated the agricultural industry was another unproven—and mostly unprovable—theory for the fall of the 6th Dynasty and the Old Kingdom of Egypt. I was seeing firsthand that it might not be just a theory.

  Heru nodded. “This is the eighth consecutive year with an insufficient Akhet.” Akhet being one of the three seasons the ancient Egyptians divided their year into, along with Peret and Shemu, it translated, more or less, to “inundation.” It was a several-month period during which the Nile would flood, inundating the floodplains with silt and leaving behind incredibly fertile black soil once it receded. One of the ancients’ names for their land was “Kemet” which literally meant “black,” in reference to the silty soil . . . their lifeblood. If this was the eighth year in a row with a poor inundation, then food yields would be nearly nonexistent.

  “They’re starving,” I said, a lump forming in my throat as I observed the people around me through this new lens. There were mothers carrying crying babies, bartering with grain vendors at a near shout while children old enough to walk clutched their legs, most nude and little more than skin and bones. Even I could hear the mothers’ desperation, though I couldn’t understand their words.

  Please, my babies are starving! They’ll die! We’ll make payment next week, I swear. Please!

  “There must be stores of food, or maybe . . .” But I didn’t know enough about ruling an ancient civilization to suggest anything beyond that. I looked up at Heru, my eyes wide with horror. “The Netjer-At must have seen this coming. You could have stocked up . . . prepared . . .”

  “We did what we could. It is why Khessie has been stationed by the Pharaoh’s side for the past several generations,” he said, sliding his hand along my back and curving his fingers around the side of my waist to pull me closer. One glance up at his face told me he wasn’t doing it out of a desire to cuddle. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes, a promise of death for any who even considered attempting to steal from me.

  “You did not do enough,” I murmured. I may not have known exactly why the story ended the way it did, but I knew the end of the story. This civilization, these people . . . they were dying.

  Heru’s hand clenched on my waist. “The drought was not supposed to last this long. In all of the possible futures, the previous Akhet was normal, making this Shemu”—which was a time of harvest—“plentiful.” He shook his head, almost in disbelief. “None of us saw this.”

  An icy chill washed over me despite the stifling heat. “Because of me. You could not see this possible future, because of me. It is my fault.”

  Heru glanced down at me. “What?”

  “The At . . . it does not act normally, where I am concerned,” I explained carefully. “If you look for me in it, you will not find me, not in the past, the present, or the possible near futures. You could not see this devastating possibility, because I am in this future . . . this present.”

  Heru was shaking his head. “I do not see how such a thing is possible.”

  I flashed him a small, sad smile. “I know. It is one of those secrets I told you that you would not believe.”

  Heru pressed his lips together and didn’t respond.

  On our
left, there was a doorway. Two burly men stood on either side, holding long spears with stone spearheads and wearing leather belts around the waists of their kilts, a heavy mace hanging from a loop on each man’s hip.

  “Armed guards?” I said, looking at Heru. “Is this the jeweler’s?” I wasn’t positive, but I was fairly certain there hadn’t been actual jewelry shops in Old Kingdom Egypt.

  Heru shook his head. “This is the residence of the dockmaster. I know him well.” He nodded to each of the guards and led me through the narrow doorway. It was short enough that he had to duck to make it past the threshold. “I did not wish to alarm you, but we are being followed. You will be safe here while I take care of it.”

  I grabbed his arm with both of my hands, feeling the play of muscles under his skin as he attempted to pull away. “You will simply leave me here, alone? But—”

  Heru gently peeled my fingers from his arm. “No, I will leave you here with Weni, and once the issue has been dealt with, I will return.” He turned away from me and called out, “Weni!” He said more, but as usual, I couldn’t understand him.

  Weni’s voice preceded him as he appeared in the back doorway. He looked to be in his late twenties and was lean, though not scrawny like most of the people milling around near his residence, and as was the fashion, his sleek black hair was parted down the middle and nearly reached his shoulders. His skin was a few shades darker than Heru’s, and his face was pleasant, if not exactly handsome, though the roguish glint to his eyes weighed in his favor on the handsome scale.

  He looked from Heru to me, then back to Heru, his lips spreading into a decidedly lascivious grin. Whatever he was saying to Heru as he approached and embraced him, I had the distinct feeling it would have made me blush profusely had I been able to understand him.

  Heru laughed and shook his head, glancing back at me a few times while he spoke to Weni. After a short exchange, he clapped his friend on the back and returned to me. “I will not be long. Weni does not speak the original tongue, so you do not have to worry about conversing with him.” He raised his hand a few inches, almost as though he were reaching for me, then seemed to realize what he was doing and let it drop back to his side. “Do not leave this building.”

  “But what if something happens to you?”

  “Ah, I would be offended had we not met only yesterday.” He grinned, but it wasn’t a friendly expression. “There is no man—or woman—in this city who can best me.”

  I didn’t doubt it; I’d seem him fight. “But what if—”

  Again, his hand rose, and this time he didn’t stop himself. He touched my shoulder, then slid his hand down my arm to give my fingers a squeeze. “I shall return soon.” He strode toward the doorway.

  I watched him leave, then turned to face Weni and nearly jumped out of my shift. He was standing right there, barely a foot away. Apparently I’d been too distracted by watching Heru’s backside to hear Weni approach.

  He still wore his friendly expression, but as I looked into his brown eyes, something darker coalesced, seething just under the surface.

  Only one being had eyes like that.

  I started backing away and opened my mouth, but faster than was humanly possible, Weni struck, wrapping one long-fingered hand around my neck.

  16

  Grab & Smash

  My attempted scream died out in a strangled gurgle.

  “Quiet now, chosen of Re,” Weni said in the original tongue. Or rather, Apep said in the original tongue. He tilted his head from side to side, stretching his neck. It was as though Apep was trying to make himself fit more comfortably in Weni’s skin. “I am going to release you. If you scream, those human guards will come in here and I will kill them, and then I will kill you. If you are quiet, I will let them live. Do you understand?”

  I made a choking noise, which was as much as I could manage with him cutting off my air supply.

  “I will take that as assent.” Apep-Weni loosened his hold enough that I could breath, but he didn’t let me go. He walked me backward until my back was pressed against a rough wall. The uneven bricks jabbed into me, but that was the least of my problems.

  “You said you would release me.” My voice was little more than a hoarse whisper.

  “So I did.” He removed his hand from my throat with a flourish and rested his palms on the wall on either side of my head. When he leaned in, my whole body stiffened, and when he ran his nose down one side of my neck and up the other, I squeezed my eyes shut and held my breath. Not crying out for help was one of the hardest things I’d ever done.

  “The mighty prince did not lie,” Apep-Weni said. He pulled away just enough that I could see his eyes. They were entirely black now, the inky darkness that signified Apep’s presence sliding around the surface of his irises like oil on water. “I thought surely he had sampled what the new Netjer-At queen has to offer, but it would seem you are as yet untouched . . . both by the prince and the king.”

  My heart was racing, and I attempted to take regular, even breaths to slow it, but it only beat faster. “What—what do you want?”

  He leaned in slowly, and I turned my face away as much as possible. Stopping just short of my cheek, he inhaled deeply. “What do you think I want?”

  Nuin’s sheut . . . your sheut . . . “I—I do not know,” I said, watching him out of the corner of my eye.

  “Much as I might enjoy taking your body, we do not have time for that.” Flashing a smile that held no warmth, he pushed off the wall and turned away from me. “Weni is very upset in here.” He tapped the side of his head. “You should hear him screaming away. He thinks Heru will kill him.”

  “Why would Heru kill him?”

  “For what he is about to do,” Apep-Weni said, still wearing that grin. It was a grin of warning, a grin of pure malevolence.

  I swallowed, my saliva feeling too viscous. “Why—why would you want Heru to—to kill Weni?”

  Apep-Weni scanned me from head to toe, slowly. “I do not care either way, but it will happen nonetheless. A mere by-product of what I am going to do to you . . . to send a message. He will have no choice.”

  I blinked rapidly, forcing back tears and wishing my borrowed powers hadn’t been locked away. If I’d been able to shift spatially, then I would have been able to save my own damn self, except . . . then Apep would know that either his or Nuin’s sheut was in me, and he would tear it out.

  “There is no need to do anything to me. I—I will pass on whatever message you wish. Please . . .”

  “Ah . . . but I feel the message will be much clearer with your heart torn out of your body.”

  I gulped.

  He took a step toward me. Another. I glanced at the doorway open to the busy street, then at the doorway leading deeper into the home. “Nowhere to run, lovely Netjer-At queen.” He was only a step away.

  Holding my breath, I reached for his shoulders and kneed him in the groin as hard as I could. Had Apep been possessing a Netjer-At body, he probably could have evaded the strike, but Weni was a regular human.

  Apep-Weni hunched over, and I took the opening to bolt for the exit. I only made it two steps.

  He snagged my ankle, tripping me. I skidded to the floor, my palms and knee taking the brunt of the impact. I kicked backward to break his hold on my ankle, but his grip was solid. He yanked me closer. The skirt of my dress caught on the edges of the mud-bricks, twisting around me and hiking up my legs while Apep-Weni flipped me over onto my back and pulled me closer still.

  “Nuin took what is rightfully mine,” he said, trying to hold my legs down as I kicked at him. “Until he gives it back, I will continue to take what is his. I will destroy every single thing he holds dear, starting with you.”

  “Heru!” I screamed. “Heru!”

  Apep-Weni’s face contorted with rage. “You stupid whore!” He snagged my ankle again, this time with both hands.

  I kicked my other foot, aiming for his face, but he moved aside and caught my leg under his arm
. He twisted my ankle sharply, and my bones responded with a sickening crunch. A bright wash of agony surged up my leg, making me instantly nauseated and filling my vision with stars.

  “Heru!” I cried out again.

  And then the guards were there, trying to pull Apep-Weni away from me. But he maintained his hold on my ankle, and a second wave of agony washed through me, eclipsing the first. My succeeding cry sounded barely human.

  “Alexandra?” It was Heru. “What—”

  He came into view in a blur, grabbing Apep-Weni’s wrist and twisting it in a way that jarred my ankle again before forcing him to release his hold on me. Snarling something at the guards, Heru wrapped a hand around Apep-Weni’s neck and lifted him, slamming him against the nearest wall.

  The guards rushed out of the building so quickly that I wondered whether Heru had threatened them or sent them for help.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting off waves of nausea. “Heru,” I rasped, “You have to stop.” But when I opened my eyes, the scene was the same; he was still holding Apep-Weni in a death grip. It wouldn’t be long until Weni’s body ran out of air. “Let him go, Heru! You cannot kill him! He had no control over what he was doing.”

  I might as well have been talking to a statue.

  “You do not understand, Heru . . . it was not Weni! He was possessed!”

  Heru flinched, but he still didn’t let up, like he couldn’t hear me through his rage. He was about to kill his friend; Weni was about to die for something he hadn’t even done, not really. I couldn’t let that happen.

  I scooted closer and, leaning on my hip, sat up as much as I could. I raised my hand, trailing my nails down the skin on the side of Heru’s torso. I knew how much Marcus loved that, so I was betting on his earlier counterpart being equally receptive to a gentle touch on that sensitive flesh.

  He raised his free arm, and I thought he might actually strike me.

  “Heru,” I said softly.

  He froze mid-swing and looked down, his eyes wide with horror at what he’d almost done.