Trafalgar and Boone and the Books of Breathing

by Geonn Cannon

  Trafalgar patted her on the arm and anchored herself as Leola stepped into the burial shaft. She took a few deep breaths, nodded that she was ready, and began to descend. Trafalgar was wearing gloves to protect her hands as she fed the rope a little at a time, feet planted shoulder-width apart as she guided Leola’s careful climb down. Leola was quickly out of sight, but the torch strapped to the shoulder of her harness filled the pit with a soft golden glow.

  She was almost halfway down when Trafalgar heard something from the courtyard. Their lanterns were still casting light on the walls, and there was a flicker of shadow as someone passed through the beam. Trafalgar tensed and looked toward the pit.

  “Leola... I believe we’re about to have company.”

  “I’m closer to the bottom than the top,” Leola said, her voice echoing off the walls of the narrow shaft. “Keep lowering me.”

  “Be careful.” Trafalgar fed her more rope, eyes on the entrance to their chamber. She was completely defenseless and, even if it was a representative from the Department of Antiquities, she would have a difficult time explaining why she seemed to be looting a tomb. If it was an actual tomb robber, she had the weapons from Threnody in her pocket, but they might as well have been left in her room since her hands were occupied with holding Leola’s rope.

  Another shadow fell across the wall and the newcomer stepped into view. Lady Dorothy Boone, clad in dirty and ill-fitting men’s clothing, stepped into the burial chamber and leveled a shotgun at Trafalgar’s head. Her hair was raked through, tied off and clipped in multiple places with no skill or aesthetic beauty. He had made a beautiful woman look as if she’d just crawled out of her own tomb.

  “Pardon the intrusion,” Amenemhat said, his voice a gross imitation of Dorothy’s, “but I’m afraid you’re plundering my tomb. I suppose there’s no harm done as it’s about to become your tomb as well.”

  Trafalgar said the only thing that came to mind. “Oh, crumbs.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  It had been days since Trafalgar had seen her friend in the flesh, and those hours had not been kind to her. Hair unwashed, and face scrubbed free of any trace of makeup so that her freckles seemed to stand out more than usual. Her eyes were wild and rimmed with red as if she hadn’t been sleeping. Despite her rough appearance, it was clear that she still had strength in the way the barrel of her gun didn’t waver from its target.

  “It would be very unwise to pull that trigger,” Trafalgar said.

  “You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

  Trafalgar said, “Oh, I have a very good idea, Amenemhat. I’ve fought Dorothy Boone a few times and I know exactly what she can do.”

  Confusion passed over the familiar features. The barrel of the weapon wavered slightly. “You know who I am? How is that possible?”

  “You believe it’s a mere coincidence to find me here, in your tomb?” Her arms were feeling the strain. Every bump and jerk of Leola’s weight on the rope transferred up into her shoulders, but she didn’t allow her voice to waver. “We came to stop you and retrieve my friend’s body.”

  Amenemhat raised the gun again. “Apologies. I have plans for this body.”

  “Do not pull that trigger. If you do, I’ll release this rope and the woman I’m lowering into your burial chamber will fall and most likely be grievously injured.”

  “You presume I care.”

  The light coming in from the courtyard briefly faded and then returned; someone else had entered the courtyard and was moving furtively forward. Trafalgar raised her voice to cover any sounds that might give away the new arrival.

  “You should care. Unless you plan to descend yourself, in which case... who precisely would be here to bring you back up? I presume you’re here for the Books of Breathing so you can transfer your essence to a more appropriate host. And these ‘plans’ you mentioned for Dorothy Boone’s body. You intend to use her as a host for Henuttaui.”

  Amenemhat bared his teeth. “Who are you?”

  “I am Miss Trafalgar of Abyssinia, and that is my friend’s body that you are wearing.”

  Dorothy-in-Desmond’s-body stepped into the chamber and rushed Amenemhat, tackling him from one side and knocking his aim off. She grabbed the barrel of his gun with one hand as she slapped the other against the back of his neck, slipping her hand under the curtain of hair so she could affix Threnody’s sedative spider directly to the skin as directed. Amenemhat cried out when he felt the injection, turning his attention from Trafalgar to the more direct threat.

  Dorothy managed to wrench the gun from his grasp as carefully as possible, careful not to break his finger on the trigger guard. Those were her fingers and she intended to use them again very soon. Amenemhat was less concerned about inflicting harm, and proved it by punching her in the face and the side of her head, making her ears ring. His movements were sloppy, his eyelids drooping as the sedative began to work, but he showed no signs of actually passing out.

  “How long before the sedative takes effect?” she asked, closing her hands around his throat in the hopes she could choke him to unconsciousness.

  “Threnody didn’t specify,” Trafalgar said.

  “That is... information... we should have insisted upon!”

  Amenemhat threw his weight against her and the two tangoed forward again, nearing the shaft. Dorothy swept her leg against Amenemhat’s, knocking him off balance and sending them both to the ground. Amenemhat, pinned to the ground, grabbed Dorothy’s face with his right hand and squeezed.

  “All that time I spent on that ship,” he said, “was spent preparing for the moment I would be reunited with my love. I need the Books to make our change permanent, but I don’t need it to undo what has already been done.”

  He began chanting, his voice rough, and Dorothy moved to clap her hand over his mouth before he could finish what he was saying. She felt Desmond’s thick fingers clap over the lower half of her face and knew it was too late. Her brain reeled from what had just happened, like a rubber band had just snapped around it, and she felt the claws of the sedative taking hold. She muttered against Desmond’s hand, looked up into the face which had greeted her that morning in the mirror, and tried to use hand signals to warn Trafalgar before she completely lost consciousness.

  #

  “What was that he was saying?” Trafalgar asked.

  Amenemhat made sure she was unconscious before he removed his hand. He was trembling. “I don’t... ah, I don’t know. I couldn’t make it out.”

  “I’m lucky you were here.”

  Denny had appeared in the entrance to the chamber. “My assistant tracked me down as we were leaving the first tomb. The Bessemer docked early this morning, and the Keepings’ ship was delayed so they couldn’t pursue him once it arrived. Lady Boone thought it would be prudent to warn you that Amenemhat was somewhere in the city.”

  Trafalgar said, “And a good thing you did. I suppose we can count this as repayment for the time I saved your life in Peru.”

  Amenemhat chuckled. “Yes, I suppose we should.”

  The smile faded from Trafalgar’s face. “Denny, subdue him.”

  “What?”

  “That is no longer Dorothy Boone. Amenemhat swapped bodies again.”

  Amenemhat turned and threw himself against Denny, knocking the small, confused man down. He heard Trafalgar curse but didn’t look back, running so quickly that he bumped into the stone walls on his way out of the inner chamber. Once again, Boone’s friends were forcing him to leave empty-handed, abandoning the tools he required to save his love. But now he was in a new body, a fresh one, and he could think properly without Boone slipping through the cracks. It had been happening more and more frequently during the final days on the boat as they cruised through the Mediterranean.

  Outside the mastaba he found two vehicles. He chose one and got behind the wheel, grateful that his new host seemed to know how to operate it. He twisted the key, shoved his foot down on the small pedal, and reversed quickly aw
ay from the tomb. He was sweating and breathing heavily, and this new body - Desmond - felt so completely different from Boone’s that he was constantly suppressing twitches and nervous tics.

  His plan remained unchanged. He would find the spells necessary to resurrect his love and he would find a way to place them in permanent bodies so they could live out their days.

  But first he would kill Dorothy Boone and Trafalgar of Abyssinia to ensure they would never again meddle in his affairs.

  #

  Denny knelt next to Dorothy, holding her head in his lap. She still hadn’t regained consciousness but her vital signs were all strong. “How did you know it wasn’t her?”

  Leola had reached the bottom of the shaft, so Trafalgar was resting her arms. “I heard Amenemhat saying something just before he passed out. I mentioned Peru, a place Dorothy and I have never been together, as a test. If I was wrong, Dorothy would simply have been confused. I felt it did no harm to confirm.”

  “A good thing you did.” He looked down as Dorothy began to stir. “Lady Boone? Are you okay? Are you... yourself?”

  Her eyelids fluttered. “I’m...” She started to sit up, but Trafalgar and Denny held her down. Her eyes were open then. She held her hands in front of her face and released a trembling breath as she examined the rest of her body. “I’m back. I’m me, I’m back. Oh, thank heavens.”

  Trafalgar said, “Nice to see you again, Lady Boone.”

  “Wonderful to be seen.” She touched her face, walking her fingers over to her lips to feel them smile. “Seen, to be seen, wonderful to be seen. Hah. I’ve missed the sound of my own voice.”

  “It gets old fairly quickly,” Trafalgar said.

  “Cheeky.” She grunted, cleared her throat, and looked around the tomb. “Desmond... he went into Desmond’s body, didn’t he?”

  Trafalgar said, “I’m afraid so. I couldn’t pursue, and Denny...”

  “Denny’s not a fighter.” Dorothy smiled up at him. “Hello, Mr. Razek. It’s a pleasure to actually make your acquaintance.”

  She could have sworn he blushed. “And you as well, Lady Boone.”

  “Let me sit up.” Trafalgar and Denny both helped her into a seated position. She closed her eyes as her head was spinning. “Tell me what’s happening.”

  “Well, Amenemhat confirmed that this is his tomb. Leola is already in the lower chamber trying to find the Books of Breathing. Since he showed up, we’re fairly certain it’s here. I suppose we’re lucky he chose to retreat rather than fight for it.”

  Dorothy said, “Right. And the first tomb you checked?”

  “Leola confirmed it was someone else’s. So unless you had any luck with the one you checked...” Dorothy shook her head. “The fourth one belongs to Henuttaui. It’s reasonable to assume Amenemhat is headed there as we speak. The one thing we have going for us is that he won’t be able to steal anyone’s body without the Books.”

  Dorothy said, “If there’s an inscription on the base of the statue, he could trick someone into reading it aloud. Inadvertently swapping their bodies.”

  “Yes, but I believe the Books have more powerful spells. Permanent swaps, forced exchanges, that sort of thing. That is why it’s imperative we don’t let him acquire it.”

  “How long has Leola been down below?”

  “Only a few minutes. She’ll whistle when she’s back in the harness and ready to be brought up. I would have helped you with the fight--”

  Dorothy said, “I understand why you couldn’t. Besides, if he had gone into your body and sent your consciousness into mine, I fear we never would have untangled the mess. We’ll give Leola time to explore, which will give me an opportunity to regain my bearings. We should also warn Mazzi that the person in Desmond’s body is no longer a friend.”

  “I can do that,” Denny said.

  “Thank you, Denny.”

  He nodded and hurried from the chamber. Trafalgar took a seat on the ground next to Dorothy, bending her knees and resting her arms across them.

  “You’re truly well?”

  “I believe so. A bit of a headache, and I’m a bit woozy, but that may be due to the sedative in Threnody’s little gizmo.” She touched her hair and winced. “I suppose it was a bit too much to hope that the ancient priest to take care of my hair.”

  Trafalgar said, “You’ve definitely looked better.”

  Dorothy poked her tongue out and began working to get her hair into some semblance of normal. Amenemhat was somewhere in Giza, most likely on his way to his lost love’s tomb, but she couldn’t help feeling optimistic. They had his ka statue and soon they would have the Books of Breathing, the two items he required to continue his body-jumping shenanigans. It was hard not to be hopeful of victory.

  #

  Beatrice knew she had died. She remembered the pain and, more importantly, the sudden numbness that came after. Not just a lack of pain but a lack of any feeling whatsoever. It was a nothingness deeper than black. Even when she regained consciousness, proof that she was alive, she still knew exactly what had happened. She kept her eyes closed as she took stock of her situation. She was standing with her back against a slanted wall so she was facing the floor. Her arms were bound in front of her, completely enclosed in something that felt like a pillowcase. Her elbows were apart and the backs of her hands touching so she couldn’t summon any energy to free herself.

  Someone shifted to her left so she finally opened her eyes. Virago was similarly trussed, her hair falling on either side of her face so it was impossible to tell if she was conscious or not. Beyond her, Beatrice saw Lasair was also present and the fact she was bald meant that Beatrice could see her eyes were open. She hissed between her teeth and Lasair turned to look at her. Virago remained still.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I believe so,” Lasair said, “now. But before...”

  Beatrice said, “Right. I remember multiple broken bones and possibly paralysis.”

  Lasair said, “I was thrown from the vehicle... and then I was crushed by it.”

  Beatrice winced. “Probably a memory you would have been better off without.”

  “Yes.” She scanned the room, an empty space with a door in the wall across from them. There was no window, no ventilation, no chairs or tables. She rolled her shoulders to test the cloth binding her arms. It truly was similar to a pillowcase; enclosed around her hands and stretching up past her elbows. She flexed her arms but the material didn’t give at all.

  Beatrice had been conscious for several minutes, constantly trying the limitations of her restraints, when the door finally opened. A man in a black suit entered, shut the door behind himself, and scanned the three women hanging in front of him. The man was utterly unremarkable in style or appearance. She could have seen him a thousand times on the street or he could have been a complete stranger. He walked to the center of the room and stood with his hands clasped in front of him.

  “Apologies,” he said. He was American, judging from the accent. “It was easier to transport you in that state than dealing with you constantly fighting me.”

  “It also served to demonstrate your capabilities,” Lasair said.

  He smiled. “That, too.”

  Beatrice said, “You killed us just to prove you could bring us back to life?”

  “I killed you to prove I could. I brought you back to life because I don’t necessarily want you dead. Not yet, anyway.”

  “Who are you?” Beatrice said.

  “Bao Tai Sek. Your earliest memory is waking up in the cargo hold of a ship with a man you believe to be your grandfather. You were taken to France where a young couple raised you to the best of their abilities until you ran away to London. Eventually you robbed the house of one Dorothy Boone, which led to your body being encased in stone. Lady Boone freed you and, in gratitude, you remained on as her assistant. That job quickly grew to include lover.”

  The Stranger moved to stand in front of Lasair. “Amanda Visser. Your earliest memory is walk
ing through a mining camp in the Witwatersrand. You were taken in by a pair of men who told people they were brothers but were in fact lovers. They doted upon you until the Second Boer War broke out, at which point they relocated north until they ended up in Ireland. They chose someplace cold because you were always feverish. When your fathers passed away, you began taking long walks in the countryside. That’s when you discovered the Brigidine Sisters and realized you were home.”

  He walked back to Virago, who seemed to be still unconscious. “And Emmeline Potter. Claimed by a woman who had given birth to six boys and gave up on a daughter of her own, raised in violence and revolution. She remained where she grew up and spent her entire life fighting because it’s easier to be hated and feared than to convince someone to love her.”

  Beatrice hated Virago, but there was no need for cruelty. “Who the blazes are you?”

  “I’m not important. You are.” The man stepped back and indicated all three women. “Earth. Fire. Water. You only lack the air elemental to complete your number. Myself and people like me are charged with ensuring you never complete your quest. Miss Sek, you were on the right trail a few times this past year, but we pushed you onto the wrong track so you wouldn’t get too close.”

  Virago said, “What does it matter to you if we’re successful or not?”

  Beatrice was surprised; she would have sworn the other woman was unconscious. She still hadn’t moved or lifted her head, but she’d spoken as clearly as if she’d been awake for hours.

  “We know the prophecy just as you do. The four elements unite to create a fifth: void. Do you have any idea what that means?”

  Virago finally lifted her head. “It means men like you are scared and doing everything in your power to stop it. That’s all I need to know.”

  He stepped forward. “We’re scared because your success would mean the end of the world. If we must kill three women to ensure the continued survival of this planet, then I am absolutely prepared to do that.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “So you brought us back to life just to kill us again,” Beatrice said.