Sands of Time (Out of Time #6)

by Monique Martin

  Elizabeth and Simon shared a nervous look. Whiteside was a liability. He was far from being in good shape and his emotions were likely to make him do something rash. But they couldn’t ask him to stay behind while they went on. If their roles had been reversed, nothing could have kept them away. Whiteside would try to save his daughter or die trying.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  About a hundred yards away from the step pyramid now, Elizabeth could see a slight glow emanating from behind it. This was it, she thought with a mixture of relief that they’d guessed right and dread at facing it. The ritual must have started. Her throat felt dry. They dismounted there and continued on foot, running along the edge of what was left of a ruined wall, finding some shelter in its shadow.

  She looked up again at the moon. A full moon, she realized. But there was something odd about it.

  “Is it just me,” she whispered to Simon. “Or is the moon getting darker?”

  Simon glanced up and frowned. He nodded and she knew they were both thinking the same thing. Without the benefit of Teddy’s key, Vale had to travel with an eclipse. Unless she planned on staying in Egypt for a few more months, and that seemed unlikely, she would be traveling tonight.

  And soon.

  Elizabeth’s heart raced just a little faster.

  They reached the edge of the step pyramid and slowly started to edge around the lower level. Elizabeth wished she had a weapon. Not that she wanted to use one, but she just would have felt better having something to hold onto. Anything to hold onto.

  She caught Diana’s eye, and vaguely wondered if Diana felt the same way. She didn’t look worried. But then, Diana never did.

  Their three guns were carried by the three men. It wasn’t sexist; just practical. Of the five, they had the most shooting experience. Although, they all knew if it did come down to a gunfight, they were all as good as dead.

  Elizabeth shivered at the thought and tried to focus on not tripping instead. The ground was littered with fallen rocks, small and large. They moved slower now as they came to the corner of the pyramid.

  The light from torches cast a glowing dome over the large temple and the ruins beyond. The temple was two stories, or had been at one time. The second story was little more than a colonnade now, some columns half shorn, others lying on the sand below. One of the cult members appeared from the shadows, obviously on patrol.

  Jack held up his hand to stop the group’s progress and edged back. Elizabeth had the sudden and absurd thought that she felt like a Navy seal on maneuvers, just without all the training, weapons and expertise. Basically, just a seal. Or maybe a duck, in a shooting gallery.

  Between them and the temple were about twenty yards of open sand. There were no shadows, no shelter, no sneaky way from here to there. They would have to run across the open expanse of desert, completely unprotected.

  They watched the man patrol the backside of the temple for a minute, pacing back and forth, before he moved on to something else. They didn’t have time to wait, to see if there was a predictable pattern. They had to move. Now.

  Jack knelt down in the sand and trained his rifle on the last spot they’d seen him. “Run,” he whispered.

  Elizabeth’s heart pounded in her chest, as the four of them ran across the sand. She tried not to breathe, not to make a sound. Sixty feet felt like a mile. Simon lingered at her side, scrubbing his speed to stay close. The dark recesses of the temple grew closer and closer. Finally, she and Simon ducked into the shadows and behind the relative safety of the walls of the temple. Diana and Whiteside weren’t far behind them.

  Bringing up the rear was Jack. He’d probably waited until they were all safely across before starting across himself. He was about halfway there when Elizabeth heard something. It wasn’t until Simon lunged out of the doorway that she realized she’d heard footsteps—the guard’s.

  Elizabeth followed Simon just in time to see the guard, his rifle trained on Jack, get clocked on the side of the head with the heavy handle of Simon’s dragoon. The man stumbled to the side, dazed. Simon dropped his colt into the sand and ripped the rifle from the man’s weakened grip. In almost one fluid movement, he swung again. This blow connected more fiercely than even the first. The man fell to the ground with a thump.

  Jack skidded to a stop next to them. “Thanks for that.”

  Simon nodded and shouldered the rifle. The two of them dragged the guard inside the temple. Elizabeth picked up Simon’s discarded gun and followed. They bound and gagged him, although, judging from the blood she could see beneath his keffiyeh, he might not be waking up any time soon.

  Although it was dark in the temple, there were still openings to the outside and bits of moonlight filtered in. Jack made some more hand-signals and Whiteside nodded toward a corner.

  Walking as softly as they could, they hurried over the stone floor to the area Whiteside had indicated. Stairs.

  As quietly as they could, they climbed the steps to the upper level, Jack in the lead again. Light from the torches was brighter now and Elizabeth could hear voices, indistinct, but there.

  Jack poked his head out of the doorway. After a moment, he signaled that it was clear. He went out first, but stayed crouched down. When it was Elizabeth’s turn, she realized why. The upper level of the temple was very open here. They were exposed, except for a few fat columns and a very low wall that ringed the perimeter.

  The remnants of the temple were a U-shape. The courtyard below was about forty feet across and thirty feet deep. At the end of the stone quad where the back side of the temple would have been, it was open. The only signs of the temple wall that had been there were a few broken columns and small piles of stone. Braziers and a half dozen cult members stood in the courtyard. All but one, a guard judging from the rifle in his hands, stood facing out toward another set of ruins that looked like what was left of a small pyramid.

  It all looked like something out of a black and white movie serial. There were three main tiers that served as platforms. The lowest tier had five torches and between each, another cult member, dressed all in black. Above them, on the middle level, a bed of stone had been built. Two cult members, in black and red robes stood on either end of the platform next to large granite statues of a woman with the head of a lion. Sekhmet.

  Above them, near the top of the pyramid and on the uppermost level, stood another henchman and Katherine Vale with her arms outstretched. Her blood-red robes made her skin look almost white. A brazier burned at her feet and behind her two torch flames reflected off an enormous copper disk that stood in front of the cap of the pyramid.

  Elizabeth scanned the area for the one thing she wanted to see, but Christina was nowhere in sight. For the first time in her life, Elizabeth wished she had a plan. She’d always been one to rush in and think about it all later, but this time it left her feeling exposed and vulnerable. Of course, the painful truth was there was no plan to make. There just wasn’t time. They had to find Christina and do whatever they could to save her. Whatever that might be. Whatever that might mean in the end.

  Jack touched Elizabeth’s arm and she started, barely containing her scream. His eyes went round with a silent warning and then he pointed in one direction and then another. Simon nodded and took Elizabeth’s arm. She and Simon went to the right, and Jack, Diana and Whiteside to the left. She didn’t like the idea of splitting up, but she and Simon inched their way to one end of the U and the others to the opposite side.

  Simon stretched out and gently placed his rifle on the rock ledge like a sniper. Elizabeth looked down at the heavy dragoon in her hand and did the same although she wouldn’t be able to hit the broadside of a pyramid from here with it.

  They settled in and waited. Elizabeth scanned the scene again. Where was Christina?

  Elizabeth took stock of the scene below, calculating the number of men and distances, as she knew Simon was. There were twelve men that she could see. Twelve against four—not good odds, but not bad from a gambler’s persp
ective. And tonight, they were definitely gamblers.

  Vale, her voice rising into the night, spoke the words of some ancient invocation. “Sekhmet, greater than Isis. Sekhmet, greater than Hathor. Sekhmet, greater than Bast, greater than Maat. Light beyond the darkness, ever burning one. Hear my plea. I come to you for guidance, for justice, for vengeance.”

  The man behind her stepped forward and handed her a small figurine. Vale lifted it to the sky before dropping it into the brazier. “Beloved of Ra, Ruler of the Desert, Mother of the Dead, You who shook and shake the World, You who have swallowed the Ever-living Serpent and daily raise the Disk of the Sun and of the Moon, hear me.”

  She dropped three more figures into the fire as she spoke. Each gave off a spray of colored sparks as they were engulfed in the flames. And the men began to chant. Elizabeth couldn’t tell what they were saying, but it took creepy to a whole new level.

  Vale’s voice built in intensity and fervor as she was handed a final figure. This one larger than the others. “This is the one I seek,” she said, holding it up to the night. “Charles, son of Anna, and betrayer.”

  The chanting grew louder now as she held the final figure above the flames. She dropped it in and large billowing clouds of smoke rose up from the fire. Behind her the copper disk started to glow.

  Elizabeth looked nervously to Simon, but his expression was unchanged. His jaw remained set firmly in a show of disgust and disbelief.

  Vale said something in a language Elizabeth didn’t understand and turned toward the copper disk—Hathor’s mirror, she realized. Slowly, a figure began to take form in the burnished surface. It was wavy and insubstantial, but it was there.

  Elizabeth looked for some projection device, but couldn’t see anything. She looked back at Vale, to the mirror. Had she really summoned a god?

  Vale, arms outstretched, bowed before the shadow. “Terrible One. I have brought you a gift. A gift of blood.”

  She waved her hand and from a hidden part of the temple two more cult members appeared, Christina held between them. Elizabeth’s heart leapt. The girl was alive. Bound and gagged, she struggled against them, trying to twist out of their grip, but it was no use. Her hands were bound and the men far too powerful.

  Elizabeth’s stomach flipped with fear and anticipation. She saw something move across the roof on the far side of the temple and saw Whiteside start to stand, only to be pulled back down by Jack.

  Simon saw it too. He and Jack looked at each other for a moment and then back to Christina as her guards brought her up to the middle level and forced her to lie down on the stone bed.

  “Simon,” Elizabeth whispered.

  He ignored her and focused on Christina, or more aptly, on her guards. His right eye squinted as he lined one up in the site of his rifle.

  He could have shot Vale any time, Elizabeth realized. Probably. It was far enough away to be anything but a sure shot. Regardless, it would have meant a sure death for Christina as their captive. But now, Elizabeth wondered if waiting had brought them anything but closer to dying. They could shoot the guards, but then what? There were too many of them.

  Vale continued her litany of prayers to Sekhmet. Her helper held out something and Elizabeth knew what it was before the shining blade caught the light. Dagger in hand she descended the steps to the sacrificial altar.

  Two men held Christina down as she struggled. Vale stood above and raised the dagger high into the air.

  Elizabeth looked back at Jack and then at Simon. What were they waiting for? This was the window of opportunity. They had to do something. Now.

  Vale’s voice cut through the night as she gave a final invocation. She started to lower the dagger. Simon’s finger moved to the trigger. Christina sobbed.

  “Wait!” Whiteside stood up and held out his hands. “Please!”

  Elizabeth started and nearly lost the hold on her gun.

  “Hell,” Simon said under his breath.

  Vale stopped and turned toward the intrusion. Even from this far away, Elizabeth could see the fury in her eyes. The guard in the courtyard raised his rifle and pointed it at Whiteside.

  The moment hung in the air as if someone had pushed a giant pause button.

  “Kill him!” Vale said.

  Elizabeth saw the guard’s finger move. She couldn’t just sit there and let him be shot. Without a thought beyond that, she jumped to her feet and waved her arms.

  “Over here!”

  The guard’s head jerked around to find her and the hesitation cost him his life. Two shots rang out in unison and he crumpled to the ground.

  “Bloody hell,” Simon said as he pulled back the bolt on his rifle to ready another round.

  Vale barked out another order, this time in Arabic and the five cult members that stood between the torches on the lower level moved up the rough steps to the altar.

  “Christina!” Whiteside called out. The men in the courtyard had scattered.

  Jack had already fired off another shot. One of the men fell forward onto the steps, but the others didn’t pause.

  Elizabeth heard two more shots fired and then heard Simon swear as he slammed his palm against the bolt. It was stuck. He couldn’t chamber another round. He tossed the rifle aside and picked up the dragoon.

  Elizabeth bent to pick the rifle up, to see if she could loosen it against the stone when she felt an arm wrap around her waist and a knife against her neck.

  “Simon!”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Simon turned over, gun ready, but it was no good.

  The man who held Elizabeth grunted and pushed the knife point into her skin. She gasped as it broke the skin. A trickle of blood welled under the sharp tip of the blade and then trailed down her neck.

  He had no choice. Simon let the gun fall from his hand. Elizabeth’s eyes were wide with panic for a moment, but she seemed to realize the same thing he did at the same time. They were alive. The men hadn’t killed them. That meant they still had a chance.

  Another man came and picked up both the dragoon and the rifle. Now, at gunpoint, Simon and Elizabeth were forced to walk toward the stairs. Simon’s mind raced. They couldn’t have come so far, endured so much, to die now. He refused to accept it.

  Elizabeth looked over at him, as one of the guards shoved her forward. There was blood on her neck and fear in her eyes, but he could see her faith in him. He would not let her down. Whatever it took.

  At the stairs, they saw Whiteside, Diana and Jack, and two more armed men. Jack must have put up a fight. A large cut had opened up over one eye and he blinked through the blood that ran down his face. He caught Simon’s eye and shook his head in apology.

  They’d lost the battle, but the war wasn’t over yet. As long as they breathed, it wasn’t over.

  The group was escorted down into the courtyard and slowly up the steps toward Vale.

  Christina struggled and turned her head toward them. Through her gag she cried out a muffled, “Daddy?”

  “I’m here, my girl.”

  Christina looked at him through tears before turning to Vale.

  “Please?” Whiteside said. “Let her go.”

  Vale ignored him and focused on Simon and Elizabeth as her guards forced them all to kneel on the top step at the foot of the altar. The hard stone split open one of the cuts on Simon’s knee, but he welcomed the sting of it.

  “Oh, Mighty One,” she said, almost breathless with delight. “I am here to make offerings to you and you give me these gifts.”

  The dagger lay in the flat open palms of her hands as she held it out. “I give you their blood in tribute. I will cut out their hearts so you can taste their betrayal.”

  She looked down at Christina. “But first, as promised, the blood of a virgin.”

  Vale lifted the knife. Simon tensed, ready to lunge, to do something. He was not going to sit by and watch her gut that poor girl.

  Next to him, he felt Elizabeth tense, but he didn’t dare look away.

  “
Sekhmet,” Elizabeth said suddenly and Simon jerked in surprise. “Oh, Mighty Goddess, Sekhmet.”

  Simon whipped his head around to her. The guard’s hands clamped more tightly onto his shoulders. What was she doing? And then, when he heard the apprehension in her voice as she struggled with what to say, he knew. She was stalling.

  Vale had stopped and glared at the brazen interruption.

  “You…you have been tricked,” Elizabeth said to the guards. “By this one. The one in red! Lies. She’s lying to you.”

  Vale’s rage grew with every word. And while it was sure to be a short-lived distraction, it was the only hope of buying time and hoping to find a way to save Christina. Simon joined her.

  “She is the betrayer,” he said. “A tool of…” Damn it; he couldn’t remember the name.

  “Apophis,” Whiteside said quickly. “Enemy of Ra. Bringer of Darkness.”

  Vale shook her head, her eyes wide and wild. “Do not listen to them.”

  “See her shadow cover the moon,” Simon said.

  A few of the men actually looked up then and saw the umbral shadow of the earth as it moved across the face of the moon—the eclipse.

  “Sekhmet,” Whiteside said. “Child of Ra, the Beautiful Light, do not be deceived by this—”

  “No!” Vale screeched, pulling her guards’ attention back to her. “They are the deceivers. Who has brought the Goddess to you?” she said, gesturing to the copper disk and its shadowy reflection. “I am the hand of the holy one.”

  Her closest henchman, whom Simon now recognized as the man from jail, stepped forward in solidarity and then another, and the doubters cowered back. Vale had control again and their time, Simon realized with a dull ache in his chest, had run out.

  Vale poised the dagger ready to plunge it into Christina’s heart. Christina screamed and Whiteside tried to lunge forward as he called out her name.

  Simon reached out to hold Elizabeth’s hand. Vale, her face, a picture of hatred, began her downstroke.