31
Warn & Worry
Staring up at the words Lex had somehow inscribed into the solidified fabric of space and time, I sighed. I’d been sitting cross-legged on the floor—also made of solidified At, along with pretty much every part of pretty much every other building in the oasis-cavern-thing—a notebook on my lap and my pen scratching against the paper as I copied down Lex’s words, for hours. There were dozens of underground rooms like this, all with two-inch-tall words covering every available wall and ceiling space. Some rooms had arched ceilings, others just regular ol’ flat ceilings, and the largest of all had a dome. I got the impression that Lex had been enjoying experimenting.
I set down my pen as a thought struck me—what if that was the point, or at least part of the point? What if she created this place for practice?
I could only assume that practicing her ability to make things out of the At was part of the reason she created the “Hall of Lex,” as Carson and I’d started calling it. He’d thought he was so clever when he came up with the name, since “lex-” was also an ancient Greek root meaning “word” and there were words filling this place. I rolled my eyes, but I also smiled.
In the six hours since Marcus, Aset, and I first stepped into the tunnel, Marcus’s minions had set up lighting throughout the Hall of Lex and in the half of the “city” on the tunnel-side of the canal. They’d even laid out LED ropes, creating a path from the Hall, across the bridge, and up to the tunnel that was about a half-mile long.
Not that I’d had much of a chance to look around the place now that it wasn’t eerily empty and quiet and dark, but filled with Nejerets bustling around to move everything into the cavern and re-set up camp. Once the task of recording Lex’s words in an easier-to-read format was decided, Aset suggested that only people who knew Lex well should be allowed in the subterranean Hall, which meant the job of scribe went to Aset, Alexander, Marcus, Carson, and me . . . and Nik.
I shivered, thinking about Aset’s ancient, trusted companion. To say that Nik was different would be an understatement; scares the crap out of me would be more appropriate.
And it wasn’t all the piercings or the black eyeliner, making his crazy-pale blue eyes look almost white, or the myriad of tattoos covering every visible part of him besides his face, all in various stages of fading as his body rejected them through regeneration . . . it was him. There was something about him that was more than a little unsettling, about how the air pressure shifted whenever he was in a room and goose bumps covered my skin.
Taking a deep breath, I shook myself in an effort to expel some of my Nik-inspired nervous jitters and returned my focus to my job. I stared at the wall and copied down Lex’s words.
Nuin says that I’m picking up on how to use his sheut pretty quickly. I’ve grown so used to being able to do unbelievable things—alter memories, share my own memories, shift from one place to another, create a sort of bonding pheromone “plug” that protects you from withdrawals, transform things into At, create something from seemingly nothing—that doing those things just seems . . . normal. I bet you can’t guess what your favorite is to help me practice . . . did you guess? Guess, Marcus, or I won’t tell you! Just kidding. You can’t get enough of me creating the bonding block, mostly because you LOVE shredding it to pieces. I kind of love that part too. I love you. I love every version of you, and getting to know ancient Heru has been . . . I don’t even know how to describe it. I just love being able to know YOU better. If I could spend the thousands of years between now and when you’re reading this by your side, growing and experiencing the centuries with you, I would. I really, truly would. Regardless, know this, Heru: however much time stands between us, however much distance separates us, I will find my way back to you. I will return to you . . . one way or another.
“Hey.”
I jumped, unintentionally flinging my pen against the wall, and turned to glare over my shoulder. My glare withered the moment I laid eyes on him. Nik was standing in the archway connecting this room to Nuin’s burial chamber, leaning his shoulder against the side and looking at me. More like staring at me, I thought. Creep . . .
I cleared my throat and reached for my pen. “Uh . . . hey.”
“I heard about your mom—Genevieve.”
I offered him a none-too-friendly tight-lipped smile. “Good for you.” When he didn’t say anything for several heartbeats, simply continued to stare at me, I added, “Did you want a trophy or something?”
His eyes narrowed, and he straightened, taking slow steps into the room. He wasn’t walking strangely, not hunched over or anything, but something about the way he moved, the controlled, withheld intensity, reminded me of a stalking lion.
Setting my notebook and pen on the floor beside me, I slowly got to my feet, keeping Nik in my direct line of sight. As he came nearer, I backed up a step. Another. My back touched the grooved wall, and I glanced past him, staring longingly at the doorway.
I licked my lips and attempted a weak smile. “Listen . . . I’m sorry. That was, um, rude . . .”
He was only a few feet away. He took another step and seriously invaded my personal bubble, staring down at me with those eerily pale eyes.
I gulped, and my fingers searched the wall behind me for a way out, though I knew they would find nothing but Lex’s words. “What—what do you want?”
Nik’s eyes narrowed to slits, and he pressed his lips into a thin, flat line. He inhaled, and, closing his eyes, grinned.
Sensing that this might be my only chance to escape what was quickly turning into a totally freaky situation, I took a lurching step to the side, intending to sprint toward the doorway.
Nik slammed his open hand against the wall, blocking my escape. “You’re afraid of me. Good.” He leaned in closer, and I pressed my back against the wall as hard as I could to keep his body from touching mine. “That will make this so much easier.”
“W—what?” I hated my stupid eyes for tearing up, and balled my hands into fists to help me hold the tears in.
Nik chuckled, the sound low and smooth. “I don’t trust you,” he said, and I couldn’t help but stare into his ice-blue eyes. They were alight with fanatical intensity. “If you’re hanging around here just biding your time . . . if you’re planning on following in your mother’s footsteps, I’d rethink those plans. I haven’t spent over four thousand years doing everything I can to keep Lex safe just so some barely manifested Nejerette brat could fuck it all up.”
My eyes widened, and a few of those traitorous tears escaped. I shook my head vehemently. “I—I—”
He leaned in closer, and there was no way to avoid it; his jeans brushed against the bare skin just below the hem of my shorts, and his black T-shirt pressed against my tank top. My already too-fast breaths sped up. I felt claustrophobic, trapped as I was between Nik and the wall.
Nik grinned again, his eyes filled with warning. “Don’t even think about doing anything that would hurt Lex or hinder what she has to do. Do you understand?” His face was so close, I could see the individual flecks of blue, silver, and white in his irises. “Do you?”
Swallowing compulsively, I nodded.
“Hey!” Carson said from the doorway. “Get away from her!”
Nik’s lips spread into that predatory grin, which I was starting to suspect was his go-to, scare-the-crap-out-of-people expression, and he glanced over his shoulder. “Two birds, one fucking stone,” he said so quietly that I doubted Carson heard him. He pushed away from the wall, from me, and stalked toward Carson.
Pride welled in me as I watched Carson stand his ground. He stood taller, straightened his shoulders, and trained a steady glare on Nik. “Don’t you ever lay a hand on her, or—”
“Or you’ll what?” Nik stopped in front of Carson, blocking my view of him. It wasn’t that he was enormously tall or thick or anything like that—he was actually pretty trim and of average height for a guy—but that Carson was kind of small. We were pretty much the same height.<
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“I’ll—”
Nik pretended to lunge forward, and Carson jumped. Laughing softly, Nik stepped to the side and turned so he could look from me to Carson and back. “I think you need a new boyfriend, Katarina. Next time look for someone with a spine.”
“I’m not—he’s not . . .”
While Nik’s attention was on me, Carson threw himself at Nik, who spun, took hold of Carson by the throat, and slammed him back against the nearest wall. Carson spluttered and kicked and clawed at Nik’s arm, but none of it did any good.
Nik glanced at me. “Like I said . . .”
“Let him go!” I shrieked, finally breaking out of my terrified stupor. I took several lurching steps across the room toward them. “Why are you doing this?”
“Why?” Nik returned his focus to Carson. “Because there’s a traitor among us, and I want to make sure he”—his eyes flicked to me—“or she doesn’t fuck up what has to happen.” He seemed to catch himself. “I’ve been watching you, Carson, ever since you got that position as one of Alexandra’s monitors. You disappear in the At, sometimes, and I can’t break through the cloak . . .” He cocked his head to the side. “What are you hiding?”
When Carson didn’t respond, Nik squeezed his neck, and Carson’s eyes bulged.
“Nekure! Release the boy!” Aset said, her words slicing through the tension. She was standing in the archway, her hands on her hips and her expression thunderous.
Nik leaned in closer to Carson, growled something unintelligible, and, letting go of the younger Nejeret, stepped backward.
“Go find Heru,” Aset said to Nik as she stepped into the room. “He’s up top with the others—Lex’s family has arrived with Dominic and Neffe, and he may need assistance.”
To my surprise, Nik bowed his head and strode out through the arched doorway.
Aset looked at Carson, who was gasping and clutching his neck as he leaned against the wall. “You go as well. I need to speak with Katarina alone.”
Carson shook his head. “I’m not . . . leaving her . . . to—”
“Go!” I almost couldn’t believe Aset was capable of sounding so harsh, so commanding.
With a reluctant look at me, Carson walked away, too. I watched him leave, wishing I could chase after him.
“You should be careful of him.”
I nodded vehemently. “I didn’t even do anything to provoke him. Nik’s just so—”
“I wasn’t talking about Nik.”
“What?” I blinked at Aset, scrunching my brow and shaking my head. Be careful of Carson?
“Nik was not lying. Carson is cloaked during brief, almost undetectable moments in the At, and we can’t figure out why . . .”
I was still shaking my head. “I’m sure it’s just an, I don’t know . . . a misunderstanding or something.”
“Perhaps,” Aset said. She closed the distance between us and wrapped a comforting arm around my shoulders. She smiled, but it didn’t quite banish the hard glint in her eyes. “I sincerely hope you are right.”
I searched her eyes. “Nik—he thinks I might be a traitor, too . . . like my mom.” I looked at the floor.
Aset gave my shoulders a squeeze. “Nik takes his duty very seriously, and all he knows of you is that your mother betrayed Lex by harming her sister.” She nodded, more to herself than to me. “I’ll speak with him . . . clear things up. He won’t bother you again.”
I smiled at her weakly. “Um, okay . . . thanks.”
“Now, come.” She guided me through the archway and into Nuin’s burial chamber. “You’re missing all the fun. Lex’s mother fainted as soon as she saw Alexander, launching the grandmother into giving Alexander the scolding of a lifetime, and when I left, Lex’s father was giving Heru a piece of his mind, and Heru was barely holding his tongue . . .” She laughed softly, the sound echoing off the solidified At like hundreds of tiny bells. “It is a scene I shall watch over and over again in the At.”
PART SIX
Netjer-At Oasis
6th Dynasty, Old Kingdom
32
Wives & Children
I stared at an enormous and rather unremarkable rock outcropping, wondering if, once again, something had been lost in translation. Maybe the word I’d thought meant “oasis” actually meant “huge mesa.” Personally, I preferred my translation, and I really hoped it was still, somehow, accurate.
I wasn’t built for desert excursions; under my protective linen robe and cowl, I was hot, sweaty, and pretty ripe, and I’d been looking forward to glassy pools surrounded by palm trees, where I could take more than the barely useful sponge baths I’d grown used to over the past week and a half. Hearing that the rocks ahead were, in some way, supposed to be the “Netjer-At Oasis” had been a needle to my hopes, poking them and causing them to deflate in an instant.
Heru was walking beside me, as usual . . . and was silent, as had become usual. The cold shoulder mixed with his near constant close proximity was exhausting, and I’d had enough. It was time to break the silence. Plus, I needed some clarification on the whole “oasis” thing.
I said as much to Heru, adding, “So tell me, how is that the Netjer-At Oasis?” I studied his profile as we crossed the final stretch of windswept sand separating us from the mammoth rock outcropping, along with the rest of our Nejeret, human, and donkey caravan.
Heru continued looking ahead. “The rocks surround the Oasis in a ring, like a protective wall.” He sent me the briefest sideways glance, and whatever he saw on my face—a thousand shattered dreams, a you-kicked-my-puppy expression, absolute and utter disappointment, something along those lines—caused him to chuckle. “I do not wish to spoil the surprise, little queen, but do not fear; you will not be disappointed for long, I think.”
I pursed my lips and narrowed my eyes. “I hope you are correct, Heru . . . I really do.”
When we’d crossed half the distance and were several hundred yards away from the tall wall of rock, a dark sliver came into view—an opening in the wall’s face. The closer we drew, the taller and wider it seemed. Only when the first set of people and pack animals reached the opening did I realize just how big it was—wide enough for a half-dozen people to walk side by side, and at least twice their height.
I figured Nuin was in that first group, as he’d taken the lead almost every day, while Heru seemed to prefer bringing up the rear. At the moment, only Aset, Nekure, Denai, and the other priestesses were behind us.
Rus, who’d been sleeping in his little sling, snug against my chest, awoke with a squeaky meow-yawn and proceeded to stretch with such intensity that his little furry body shook.
I pulled out the collar of my robe, peeked down at the kitten, and spoke to him in English. “Hey, little guy.”
He stared up at me with sleepy, squinted eyes and yawned again.
“I think you’re gonna get to stretch your legs soon . . . maybe chase some bugs . . . how’s that sound?”
He started purring that loud, overenthusiastic purr that belongs solely to kittens. It wasn’t my words that were making him so happy; it was the hand I’d tucked under the layers of pale linen so I could scratch under his chin.
“But you have to promise to leave the scorpions alone, okay?”
His eyes closed, and he tilted his chin back, stretching out his neck.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’”
We were nearing the opening in the wall of rock; it was too symmetrical to be natural, and inside, the walls and floor were far too smooth. My heart rate picked up as my excitement made a resurgence. A nice, polished tunnel through a wall to somewhere was a lot better than a giant, solid rock.
“You speak with little Rus quite often,” Heru said.
I glanced at him. “I have to speak to someone . . .” It was an unnecessary jab, and I wished I could suck the words back in as soon as they flew out of my mouth. I was far from companionless—Aset, Nekure, Set, Denai, the priestesses, Nuin—but the one companion I desired above all oth
ers was out of my reach. And I knew he had a pretty damn good reason to hold me at arm’s length, even if, with every breath, I wished he would pull me close, hold me tightly, and promise to never let me go.
Heru didn’t respond. He did, however, take hold of my arm and pull me to the side of the tapered opening before I could enter the tunnel. My hasty words must’ve irritated him as much as I’d feared they would.
“Apologies, Heru. I know this situation is difficult . . .”
He led me closer to the rock wall and stopped, stepping in front of me and watching the final few stragglers disappear into the tunnel. After a quick nod at someone behind me, he pushed his cowl back, and all of his attention was focused on me.
Those molten, golden eyes stared down at me. That chiseled jaw clenched. Those high cheekbones seemed sharper in the afternoon light, making him appear more wild and fierce and ancient—more other—than usual. His appearance was a stark reminder that, even now, thousands of years in the past, it had been a long time since he’d been human.
I fidgeted under the intensity of his stare, pulling both of my arms into my robe and petting Rus. I met Heru’s eyes, but looked away almost immediately. Growing irritated at my deferential reaction, I forced myself to lock gazes with him. “What? What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?”
Shaking his head, Heru let out a heavy sigh and almost smiled. “I would speak with you now, and I would have you say nothing until I am finished.”
My eyebrows rose.
Heru pushed back my own cowl, and I squinted as I lost the only thing shielding my eyes from the sunlight. He trailed the backs of his fingers over my cheek before pulling his hand away. It had been days since he’d touched me outside of training, and his fingers left behind a trail of tingles on my skin.
I swallowed roughly, doing my damnedest to hide my reaction to that simple, restrained touch. My heart was racing, but I kept my breaths as even as I could.
“There is much I would have you understand of my life here . . . of my life in general, and why the choice you have given me is such a difficult one,” he said. “But I fear that much of what I have to say will upset you, and whatever you may think of me, upsetting you is the last thing I want to do.”
Time Anomaly: A Time Travel Romance (Echo Trilogy, #2) Page 25