by Overton, Max
"Nor me," Daffyd said.
"I might have to," Muammar said, "But we'll see."
"What about Dani?" Daffyd asked. "Doesn't she get one?"
"I have my golden scarab." She took it out and held it in the palm of her hand, where in gleamed in the airport concourse lights.
"I can't imagine how I ever mistook it for a rock," Nazim said.
The airport tannoy echoed and screeched, but they heard enough to know their flight had been called. They said their goodbyes to Nazim and walked across the tarmac to the waiting aircraft. Nick and Marc chattered between themselves, eager to be back in England, but Dani and Daffyd hung back, as if reluctant to leave Egypt.
"It'll be good to get back, lass, especially now that Bashir's been discredited. I imagine your suspension will be overturned and you'll be reinstated without prejudice."
"And you. Back to lecturing."
"Our lives returning to normal."
"Or as normal as they'll ever be. Things have changed, Dafs..." Dani gave Daffyd's hand a quick squeeze, "...for all of us."
"What about Scarab? Is she still with you?"
"I'm just plain Dani Hanser now. What you see is what you get."
"Oh, I do hope so." Daffyd grinned.
Dani blushed.
They crossed the remaining tarmac and stood at the foot of the stairs, looking up at the smiling stewardess.
"And Scarab?" Daffyd asked softly. "Where is she?"
"She's reunited with Khu after three thousand years. I'd say that was a happy ending."
"An ending? I wonder..."
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Epilogue
The man and woman walked over springy turf, a cool wind in their faces and the sun warm on their backs. Spreading out to their right, fields burgeoned with wheat and barley, the ripening ears waving in the gentle breeze; vineyards as far as the eye could see, the vines heavy with dark grapes. In pastures, cattle grazed--powerful bulls and beautiful fat cows with calves at their sides--black ones in one field, red in another, and white in a third. To their left, reed beds swayed in the breeze, the wind playing with the feathered tops and ruffling the stretches of cool water that lay between them. Fish jumped in the limpid waters and flocks of ducks and geese exploded upward as they passed, wheeling in the clear blue sky and landing again behind them. The man breathed in, taking in lungfuls of clean air so free of dust that it smelled sweet in his nostrils. The green of the grass and reeds was unblemished, of such a rich hue it made him want to weep for the joy of it. Sunlight warmed him, a gentle heat that comforted and soothed, and silence enveloped him save for the gentle sigh of the wind, the muted squabbling of wildfowl in the reed beds, and the distant lowing of contented cattle.
"Where are we?" the man asked.
"Don't you recognise it, Khu? No, of course, how could you? You have been in service to the gods for untold years. This is Sekhet Aaru, the Field of Reeds."
"But...but what of judgement? What of the weighing of the heart?" Khu looked around fearfully as if expecting the dreadful beast that ate the hearts of the wicked to haul itself out of the clear waters.
The woman smiled. "You are already here, dear Khu. You need have no fear."
Khu looked at the young woman who walked beside him. She wore a pure white linen kilt that contrasted sharply with her unblemished copper skin and her firm breasts were bare, scarcely moving as she walked. Stitched onto the edge of her kilt was a small blue scarab. He frowned, trying to remember.
"I should know you. The blue scarab means something."
The woman smiled. "It will come to you."
Khu nodded, accepting. "Where are we going?"
"Everywhere...and nowhere. But for now, to that city."
Khu looked ahead and saw gleaming white walls rising like clouds in the clear summer sky. The tops faded in the distance and the whiteness was so intense that every colour seemed to reflect back to his eyes. He gasped with pleasure and awe.
"What is the name of this city? What king rules here?"
"You may call it Men-nefer if you wish, for enduring and beautiful describes it perfectly, but no king rules here save the One, of whom the Nine of Iunu are but an aspect."
"I don't understand."
"You will."
As they drew close to the city, they found that a narrow stretch of water separated them from the white walls. The woman led Khu to a small, narrow-beamed boat and bade him climb aboard. She pushed off and, taking a slim pole in her strong hands, sped them across the water. The boat grounded on the far shore and Khu leapt out, offering his hand to the young woman.
"I know you," Khu said as their fingers touched. "Almost."
She smiled and gestured toward the huge gates that lay spread wide, inviting him to enter. As he walked forward, Khu became aware of people all around him, though a few moments before he had been certain the city was deserted. Men, women and children walked or ran, talking quietly and earnestly, or chattering and laughing in high spirits, and when faces turned toward him, Khu saw that they were smiling. He felt their welcome as something tangible and his heart went out to them.
The woman led Khu further into the city. Beyond the towering white walls lay broad avenues between stone buildings, great open plazas and parks with soaring palm trees, flowering shrubs of a hundred different colours and scents, and fountains of crystal clear water.
"This is...is the place of the blessed."
"Yes."
Khu turned to the woman and smiled. "I know you. You are the young girl who came to my village."
"I was indeed, dear Khu. Who else was I?"
"A...a princess, a queen, a king? A...my wife...Scarab?"
"Yes."
"But you look so young and I...I am..."
"Young too, my love."
Khu looked at himself in a pool of water and touched his youthful, unlined face in wonder. "How is this? I was an old man...then I...I died. Now I am in the Field of Reeds?" He stared at his reflection in the pool of water, then up at the young woman standing before him. "We are married. I remember that."
"A man and a woman were married, but they were Khu and Scarab."
"That is who we are."
"No, that is who we were." Scarab took Khu's hand and squeezed it gently. "We are no longer married, dear Khu, but that does not change my love for you."
"I have always loved you."
"And I you, but I am no longer Scarab, and you are no longer Khu."
Khu looked puzzled. "If I am no longer Khu, then who am I?"
"You will remember when you are ready."
Khu looked about him at the clean, bright city and its parks, at the throngs of smiling people without a trace of hunger or disease. "I have been here before," he murmured. Then he pointed. "That man--I think I know him."
Scarab beckoned and the man walked over, greeting her with a quick embrace before studying Khu.
"I wondered when you would return to us. Welcome."
"Thank you. Do I know you?"
"We shared a life once," the man said.
"I...I have not lived for a long time. I cannot remember your face, but I recognise something in you."
"You recognise the inner flame of being. This face belonged to my last life. The one you remember is this..." The man's features blurred and swam, before solidifying once more.
Khu gasped and involuntarily took a step backward. "Tjaty Ay. You!" He turned to Scarab with a look of consternation on his face. "How can he be here in the Field of Reeds? Surely when his heart was weighed, his black deeds must have..."
"He judged himself," Scarab said, "And atoned for his deeds in his next life."
Ay smiled. "My next three lives. I was an evil man then."
Scarab embraced Ay. "Ah, but you should have seen him in his last life," she told Khu. "He was a man who helped others. He gave of himself selflessly. If you had known him then, you would have loved him. As I did, for I was one of those he helped."
"
I...I find this hard to understand."
"It will come to you."
Ay smiled and walked away, becoming lost in the throng of people.
"Who else is here?" Khu asked.
"Everyone you knew, and countless others."
"My parents? My brothers and sisters? Our daughter Dania?"
"Dania inhabits an earthly body at the moment, as does your mother, but yes, you'll see the others soon."
Scarab took Khu by the hand and led him out of the park, through the crowds of people and into one of the tall buildings. Great cavernous halls filled with light receded beyond the limits of his sight, and were lined floor to ceiling with shelves, packed with scrolls. In the spaces between the shelves, people talked or read scrolls, discussing the contents and making notes.
"So many scrolls? What is this place?"
"The Hall of Records. The lives of every person who ever lived are written on these scrolls." Scarab took a scroll from a shelf, seemingly at random, and unfurled it. "Here is your last life, Khu--every thought, every deed, every word you uttered."
"Everything? No scroll could possibly be large enough."
Scarab laughed, the sound refreshing him like running water in the desert. "Neither the city nor this building; neither this scroll nor the bodies of the people you see around us have any physical meaning, dear Khu. They are present in those forms to comfort you until your mind can grasp the truth."
Khu scanned the scroll in his hands, but he was not reading. Rather, he focussed on a phrase Scarab had uttered. "My last life?"
"You have lived before, Khu, and will live again--if you choose. How can any man perfect himself in just one life? Or any woman?"
"You said this city was ruled by the One. Who did you mean? One of the gods?"
"All gods are part of the One. And every god that we knew was once as we were, men and women walking the earth. They have perfected themselves and now guide us so that one day we may join them."
The Hall of Records faded away around him, and Khu found he was alone, walking through verdant gardens and beside tumbling brooks, to where a group of some twenty people stood in a circle. He smiled as he approached them for he recognised them all, not by their outward appearance but by the inner flame of their being. His father was there, his brothers and sisters, a man who had been Nebhotep the physician, Jesua the Shechite, Jeheshua the Khabiru, as well as men who had been kings when last he walked upon the earth. Akhenaten was there, Smenkhkare with his arm around Tutankhamen, even Ay and the old king Nebmaatre Amenhotep. The man who had been Khu greeted them all one by one, recognising what each person meant to him and what he meant to them. Scarab was there too, and his mother, and his daughter Dania.
"Scarab said you were living a life."
"When she said it, I was," Dania laughed. "Since then I have lived a full and rich life."
"In so short a time?"
"There is no past and future," his mother Asenath said. "Only now."
Full understanding flooded over Khu, and he felt a warm and comforting sense of well-being, of having come home to his loved ones. His consciousness expanded and merged with the other beings around him, becoming one with them all. Time ceased to exist.
* * *
Two souls and a guide existed together.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes."
"Will you choose, or will you be guided?"
"Both."
"This is the man best suited for you." Images appeared. A man walked and interacted with others, scenes of a life played out, from birth through to death.
"Will I be with..."
"Yes. She will be your wife again. See?" The images changed as a woman entered the scenes, altering the destination of several lives. "Any other changes you would make?"
"Perhaps...?"
"Your life would be harder."
"But more worthwhile. If this happened...or that..."
"Yes. Good choices."
"Who would my parents be?"
"They are part of our group, living now. They hold the names Marc and Jenny Andrews."
"And her parents?"
"They live too, and are known to you. Dani and Daffyd Rhys-Williams."
"I am content."
"And I."
"Then let it be so."
The End of the Story of Scarab
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About the Author
Max Overton has travelled extensively and lived in many places around the world--including Malaysia, India, Germany, England, Jamaica, New Zealand, USA and Australia. Trained in the biological sciences in New Zealand and Australia, he has worked within the scientific field for many years, but now concentrates on writing. While predominantly a writer of historical fiction (Scarab: Books 1-6 of the Amarnan Kings; the Scythian Trilogy; the Demon Series; Ascension), he also writes in other genres (A Cry of Shadows, the Glass Trilogy, Haunted Trail, Sequestered) and draws on true life (Adventures of a Small Game Hunter in Jamaica, We Came From K�nigsberg). Max also maintains an interest in butterflies, photography, the paranormal and other aspects of Fortean Studies.
Most of his other published books are available at Writers Exchange Ebooks, http://www.writers-exchange.com/Max-Overton.html and all his books may be viewed on his website:
http://www.maxovertonauthor.com
Max's book covers are all designed and created by Julie Napier, and other examples of her art and photography may be viewed at www.julienapier.com
If you enjoyed this author's book, then please place a review up at Amazon and any social media sites you frequent!
If you want to read more about books by this author, they are listed on the following pages...
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Other Books By This Author
A Cry of Shadows
{Paranormal Murder Mystery}
Australian Professor Ian Delaney is single-minded in his determination to prove his theory that one can discover the moment that the life force leaves the body. After succumbing to the temptation to kill a girl under scientifically controlled conditions, he takes an offer of work in St Louis, hoping to leave the undiscovered crime behind him.
In America, Wayne Richardson seeks revenge by killing his ex-girlfriend, believing it will give him the upper hand, a means to seize control following their breakup. Wayne quickly discovers that he enjoys killing and begins to seek out young women who resemble his dead ex-girlfriend.
Ian and Wayne meet, and when Ian recognizes the symptoms of violent delusion he employs Wayne to help him further his research. Despite the police closing in, the two killers manage to evade identification as the death toll rises.
John Barnes, the detective in charge of the case, is frantic, willing to try anything to catch his killer. With time running out, he looks desperately for answers. Will John get them before it's too late?
Publisher ebook page: http://www.writers-exchange.com/A-Cry-of-Shadows.html
Amazon (ebook and print): http://mybook.to/ACryOfShadows
AmazonSmile (US Region): https://smile.amazon.com/dp/B00E96DIDM
* * *
Adventures of a Small Game Hunter in Jamaica
{Biography}
An eleven-year-old boy is plucked from boarding school in England and transported to the tropical paradise of Jamaica. A shy and dreamy boy, he has one great love in his life--butterflies. He discovers that Jamaica has a wealth of these wonderful insects and sets about making a collection of as many as he can find. Along the way, he has adventures with many other creatures, from hummingbirds to vultures, from iguanas to black widow spiders, and through it all runs the promise of the legendary Homerus swallowtail, Jamaica's national butterfly.
Other activities intrude, like school, boxing and swimming lessons, but he manages to inveigle his parents into taking him to strange and sometimes dangerous places, all in the name of butterfly collecting. He meets scientists and Rastafarians, teachers, small boys and the ordinary peo
ple of this tropical isle, and even discovers butterflies that should not exist in Jamaica.
I was that young boy. I count myself fortunate to have lived in Jamaica in an age very different from our present one. I still have some of the butterflies I collected half a century or more ago, and each one releases a flood of memories every time I open the box and gaze at their tattered and fading wings. These memories have become stories--stories of the Adventures of a Small Game Hunter in Jamaica.
Publisher ebook page: http://www.writers-exchange.com/Adventures-of-a-Small-Game-Hunter.html
Amazon: http://myBook.to/AdventuresGameHunter
AmazonSmile (US Region): https://smile.amazon.com/dp/B01AC7HJ2M
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Ascension Series
{Historical: Holocaust}
Book 1: Ascension
A small boy discovers that being a Jew in Germany can be a dangerous thing. Fear prompts Konrad Wengler to put his faith aside and he tries desperately to forget his heritage.
He fights in the Great War and is wounded, becomes a policeman in his tiny Bavarian town, where he falls under the spell of the fledgling Nazi Party. He joins the Party in patriotic fervour and becomes a Lieutenant of Police and Schutzstaffel (SS).
In the course of his duties as policeman, he offends a powerful Nazi official, who starts an SS investigation of this troublesome police Lieutenant. When war breaks out, he joins the Police Battalions and is sent to Poland where he has to witness the atrocities being committed upon his fellow Jews.
The SS investigators have discovered Konrad's origins and follow him into Poland. He is arrested and sent to Mauthausen Concentration Camp. Suddenly, Konrad must face what it means to be a Jew and fight for survival. He has friends on the outside, a wife and a lawyer, but will they be enough to counter the might of the Nazi machine?