The Double-Edged Sword

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The Double-Edged Sword Page 6

by Amy Lignor


  The older woman gave a shout of laughter into the air. If anyone had passed by the ancient gates at that moment they would’ve stopped and gawked at the giggling duo who, if they were better able to see under the veils, looked far more like twins than mother and daughter. With an unobstructed view, their matching black hair would gleam under the bright Egyptian sun. Though Anippe owned the same riveting gaze that matched her sister’s, while their mother bore pupils black as pitch, both had eyes that were wide and alert, holding sparks of knowledge that no one would ever be able to fully grasp.

  Neith hesitantly reached out and gave her hand a squeeze. “Some Americans are very respectful of the old ways. Without them, you and I would have been lost a long time ago.”

  “You were lost a long time ago.”

  Evading the subject that could bring about an argument, Neith dropped her eyes to the scar that now looked like a pale ornament on her own flesh. “Our markings used to match. Mine is all but gone now.”

  “So is Leah’s.”

  “But not yours.” Neith turned Anippe’s hand over, rubbing her fingers across the two blood-red holes in her skin. “Only puncture wounds from a serpent mar your all-seeing eye.”

  Anippe snatched her hand away, blocking out the memory of when she’d received the vicious wound.

  Neith, with a nod of understanding, took a step back. “Your uncle told me about…everything. I am so sorry for what you have been through, my dear. You could have died.”

  “Leah saved me.”

  “She and Gareth saved us all.” Neith’s eyes went to the phone held in her daughter’s other hand. “Did you speak with them?”

  “They are in Pergamon.”

  An eerie sound, like that of a dying soul gasping for breath, came through Neith’s lips. “I do not understand your sister’s choices.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Pergamon is not the home of Satan’s crown. It was long ago that the Germans moved the entire Altar of Zeus away from there. All of its treasures went with it.”

  A protective feeling came over Anippe, and anger swelled in her throat. “Leah does not care about Satan’s crown. She finds that to be nothing more than mysticism, at best. She is in Pergamon because she loves Gareth. He has found proof that his father was in that location long after the man had supposedly passed on.” Anippe took a breath. “I think it is wonderful she chooses to stand by the side of the man she loves. She and Gareth have a wonderful connection—one that all of us seek.”

  Neith nodded slowly. “I hope their paths remain the same throughout this life.” Her voice grew soft, “I would be ill if your sister looked back and remembered her travels as being nothing more than a map of unwise choices.”

  “As unwise as your own?” Anippe spoke quickly and immediately felt the guilt weigh upon her shoulders. She had no intention of making her words sound like a punishment, simply a question that she still needed answered by a mother who had never before existed in her life.

  Neith looked down at the ground. Whether bowing her head in prayer or feeling the smack of shame being delivered, it was unclear. “I can apologize to both you and Leah for the rest of your lives, Anippe. Yet, I know there is only the tiniest of chances my words will do any good. All I can say is when your father and I discovered Satan’s stone in Cleopatra’s Mines, I knew what it was. I knew it needed to be hidden so that no one would ever place their hands on it. We were dealing with very dangerous people back then and I wanted all of you to be safe.”

  She took a deep breath, as if it hurt to keep talking about pain that she’d had to withstand for decades. “Horrible men found me, Anippe. If we had stayed together as a family, not only would we be in Heaven right now, but the worst of mankind would own unstoppable power. I had to keep the location of the stone a secret so others would not die.”

  Anippe listened to the words, but her mind could not fathom the choice. “I believe that in your mind what you did was a selfless act. But the truth remains that you chose to protect secrets of the dead instead of staying with your own family. A decision that made me an orphan,” she added, hearing the anger in her own voice. “You not only left, but your selection also took my father and my sister away from me.”

  Neith’s voice remained calm. “Your father did go to America when he believed I was dead, and he did take Leah. But you were not alone, Neith. You have always had Aaron.”

  “And I love my uncle. He protected me.” She continued, “But I would have liked to have known my sister.”

  “I am glad you and Leah get along so well.” Neith’s smile once again appeared behind the thin veil “You can teach one another about so many things.”

  Anippe closed her eyes. “There is nothing to teach; our beliefs are not the same. Leah is a woman just learning about faith. She does not believe in the power of some fallen angel. Even with everything she has done and seen, she still believes any devil is a figment of our imaginations—a bad guy, she says, created by humans for the sole purpose of being able to have someone else to blame for their own hideous acts.”

  Neith sounded completely baffled. “But…Leah has seen him. Her father told me that she actually witnessed the Beast.”

  “She blames that on nothing more than a mind suffering from fatigue.”

  Neith placed her hands on her hips. Her stance made her look like an annoyed parent, irate at hearing such a silly thought. Sighing heavily, she finally spoke, “At least Gareth believes and is by her side, so Leah will be fine. What we cannot forget is the job we have here.”

  Turning and walking away from what was beginning to be an infuriating conversation, Anippe pushed open the large oak doors and entered the old museum, muttering, “The job should be easy for you…protecting an artifact instead of caring about your own children.”

  Striking like a viper, Anippe gasped as Neith grabbed her by the arm and whipped her around. The veil gone, she was now faced with enraged eyes. “There is nothing about this that is easy. That emerald needs to be destroyed before any more lives are harmed by its power.”

  “Then let us destroy it,” Anippe practically begged.

  “It is not of this world, Anippe. Destroy it how? Fire, the pounding of a hammer—even the strength of a bomb cannot bring about its destruction.”

  Ripping her arm away, Anippe walked further into the museum. She knew the words were true, but she was tired of constantly talking about the artifact and the power it held.

  Around the corner she marched, passing the watchful eyes of icons that stared down from the paintings on the walls. Heading into the dimly-lit room, she took a few calming breaths and stared at the case made of bulletproof glass. Surrounded by alarms, lights, wires—every piece of technology imaginable was being used to protect Satan’s stone from the monster who wished to get his hands on it. No guards could stand watch over the piece; the secret could not be shared with anyone. Even the museum had to be shut down for a time, making up the excuse to visitors that the building was under a renovation that would only take a limited time to complete. But no matter how many safety levels were in place, it still caused panic in Anippe’s heart to have the artifact anywhere near her.

  The stone, once the shape of a lovely teardrop, had warped into a flat disc. Its stunning green hue that used to gleam in the sun had turned a stark white, resembling the eye of a blind man. The only color that remained came in the form of thin lines zigzagging across the white surface—a frightening embellishment that looked like poisonous veins had somehow infected the malicious stone.

  Anippe heard her mother’s footsteps come up behind her. Without turning around, she spoke, “When Gareth bought this for Leah it was extraordinary.”

  Neith’s sigh echoed off the stone walls. “I still cannot believe he found it in some horrible store, in Jack the Ripper’s neighborhood of all places, after I had hidden it so well.”

  Anippe tried not to grunt her response. “You were the person who told your supposed friend its original location.


  Neith’s voice dropped to a whisper, “I had no idea she was—”

  Anippe turned to face her, “—Daniel Bauer’s mother? Well, now you do know. And you are also aware that you put the power directly into the hands of the enemy.”

  “I trusted her.”

  “And look where that got us,” Anippe continued to pile blame on Neith’s shoulders.

  “You are saying that I am at fault for everything that has happened since?”

  “Can you really not see the truth? Neith, if it weren’t for your decision to tell Bauer’s mother about the stone, this painful chain of events would never have begun.” Anippe continued to vent, “No one knew where the stone was hidden, nor that it was being guarded by frightening creatures that no man would have been able to get past. If you had just left it there, in Cleopatra’s Mines, Satan’s stone would have stayed lost.”

  Neith interrupted, “They were getting close to finding it, Anippe. They were going to figure out that it was buried in those mines, and I could not let that happen. I had to trust someone to move it out of there.” She took a breath and closed her eyes. “And we must remember, for all the bad this stone has brought us, it has also been the catalyst to bring us back together. You have a family now. I have found my husband and been reunited with my beloved daughters.”

  “Who are still very much in danger,” Anippe’s choice of words made it feel as if Leah were communicating through her. “In fact, we are in more danger now. Even though Daniel Bauer,” she said his name, attempting to ignore the shot of loneliness she still felt when she thought of him, “is dead, Hansen is not. He is a man who brutally murdered men. Their insides torn out—” Anippe looked down at the floor, her whole body shaking. “Leah told me that not a wound marked those bodies. She saw what revolting magic Hansen has at his disposal. He was also the one who blew Daniel off the side of a mountain. None of this is fiction, Neith.”

  Nodding slowly at her daughter’s words, Neith turned her gaze to the stone and wrapped her arms around her body, visibly shivering. “That…thing—if set into Satan’s crown, will allow Hansen to destroy us all without blinking.” She took a long pause. “It is my fault.”

  As the color of health completely drained from her skin, Anippe watched her mother in complete silence as the woman shook her thoughts away. “Leah and Gareth will find the crown, destroy it, and render that stone absolutely useless. It has already turned white.” She moved her gaze back to Anippe’s face. “White is the absence of life. It is dying, Anippe. Only the correct setting or the touch of Satan’s own hand can bring it back. And even with all the power Hansen has, he is still just an ordinary man.”

  With that, Neith turned away and walked across the room toward the daunting throne built of bronze and copper. Four columns, one that rose from each corner of the seat, extended up through a bronze canopy where each was adorned with a small cross.

  Anippe watched her mother walk up the two small steps and perch on the artifact as if she were a queen. She kept silent, even though the shock at seeing someone sit upon such a precious relic without a care in the world made her want to scream out loud. She could not believe the audacity.

  Removing a small silk bag from her dress, Neith turned it over and emptied wooden runes into her hand. “I would cast these every day in that prison cell they held me in. It was through these I was able to watch the paths of your lives unfold.”

  Neith tossed the tiles on the floor between them. With the exception of three sitting side-by-side, the rest of the runes landed upside down.

  The three lone tiles were familiar to Anippe. The rune belonging to a deadly killer was there. Anippe wondered if that killer was somewhere in the skies above the Coptic Museum right now, just waiting for his plane to land so he could begin his search for what he craved the most.

  Although Anippe would never admit it out loud, she was relieved that the enemy she would have to face was no longer Daniel Bauer. With Daniel she had lost her heart, so she was intensely happy she did not have to witness his demise. Besides, Anippe knew Leah would’ve seen the feelings she still had for the man, and been disappointed. But no matter how hard Anippe tried, a part of her still believed that she could’ve saved Daniel from making the wrong choices. The killer’s rune was still prevalent, however; it had simply been given over to Hansen. The deadliest soul I have ever met, she thought.

  The symbol of victory still sat there as well. The dark, bold rune stood for crossing over the proverbial finish line and winning the battle. Lastly, laying right beside it, was Leah’s symbol, which had been assigned to her by a young girl named Mary who Leah had saved. The rune stood for a beacon of light; a torch who held vital power to both conquer and save.

  Neith sat back against the throne and woke Anippe from her thoughts. “I wish Leah did believe. She will need faith more than ever now.”

  Anippe stared at the woman who was still a visitor in her house; a visitor who acted insolent and threw barbs at the sister she had grown to trust. “Neith?”

  “Yes?”

  “I need you to get down off that throne.”

  As if suddenly noticing where she had chosen to rest, Neith immediately stood. “I am sorry. My…my attention was elsewhere.”

  Anippe gave a small nod and walked away. The apologetic gaze of her mother had become a sight she no longer wished to see.

  CHAPTER 15

  Leah’s legs felt like rubber. Her brain still buzzed; the annoying noise had been happening for so long that it felt like the hum would drone on and on for the rest of her life.

  She walked away from the once gruesome tree. It now looked like a pathetic eyesore, something a groundskeeper would soon cut to shreds and haul out of the ancient landscape in order to restore beauty for the tourists.

  Without a thought, Leah walked down the leftover steps that’d once led to the glorious Altar of Zeus and came to the edge of the precipice. Staring out at Pergamon from this position on-high, a sudden wave of vertigo came over her and she began to fall forward. As if every shred of sense she owned disappeared in that instant, Leah just stared at the massive stone stage sitting far below that was about to become her deathbed.

  ___

  “Leah!” Gareth ran, catching her by the shoulders and pulling her back against his body. Turning her around, he peered into the wise blue eyes that looked as if they were lost behind a rich, thick fog. “Are you all right?”

  He held her arms tightly, attempting to calm his own rapidly beating heart. Looking over her shoulder, he viewed tier after tier of rock seats that were laid out around the stage far below. From this high up, it looked like it would fit no more than one actor at a time. “Talk about the cheap seats,” he mumbled. “They must’ve had to use a megaphone so the people up here could make out what they were saying.”

  Leah sighed. “Why is it these so-called intelligent civilizations never built things on a normal scale?”

  “Because,” Gareth whispered, kissing her on the forehead. “That was the point of royalty. The higher up you got, the grander your realm had to be. And if your neighbor got too high, you would just join forces with your enemies and wipe them off the map.”

  “Not much has changed in Earth,” Leah mumbled.

  “Agreed,” Gareth said. “I swear, up here it seems like you and I are in a world all our own.”

  “This is the loneliest place,” Leah whispered. “It’s not like Athens. It almost feels…”

  “Dead,” Gareth finished her macabre thought, and returned his gaze to the acropolis. “You’re right about the lonely part. Where did everybody go?”

  “Unlike us, they were smart. They took cover from the storm.”

  Taking a step back, Gareth kept her body in his firm grip.

  “It’s okay,” she mumbled. “I’m fine.”

  He grunted, hearing the lie in her voice. Relaxing a bit, he watched as Leah tried to pull herself back together. But when her body suddenly quivered from head to toe, Gareth once
again grabbed her shoulders. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Her form was absolutely rigid. Gareth followed her unwavering gaze to the rock staircase that ran along the far side of the theatre.

  Another chill ran through her, causing her body to squirm. “Gareth…?”

  “It’s okay. That’s just the God of the Mask.”

  “What?” Leah raised her head slightly, as if coming to focus on the lurid grin etched into the rock archway.

  “He was the patron deity of the theatre. That tunnel he’s guarding was called the ‘Gateway to Madness’ by the performers.”

  “I think I might be there already,” she mumbled.

  Gareth laughed. “Come on. You’re the sanest person I know.”

  “If you really believe that, then you’re the one who’s crazy.”

  ___

  Leah shook her head at Gareth’s laughter. Although the huge face carved into the stone made her wary, it was actually the lean figure dressed in black—quickly disappearing through the ‘Gateway to Madness’ and into the tunnel—that had actually made her head spin. The person’s gait was quick; almost…cheerful. Leah’s skin crawled.

  Now, replaced with the strong, familiar hands rubbing her shoulders and warming her skin, Leah closed her eyes and erased the odd moment from her mind.

  “Let’s go,” Gareth said behind her. “We’ve seen enough of this place.”

  But Leah stood still, not entirely sure her legs were up to the task. “Just talk to me for a bit longer.”

  He paused. “What about?”

  “Books. History. NASCAR. I don’t care. Anything, so I can feel normal.”

  “Okay…” Gareth’s body moved behind her as if he was looking around, searching for a subject. “Uh…I know one other thing about this place, actually.”

  Turning in his arms, she stared up at him. “Go on.”

  Shrugging, he offered a small smile. “It’s gross.”

  “Good. Take my mind off things,” Leah said. “Grosser the better.” Anything to stop the damn buzzing.

 

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