Jack got enough breath back to gasp, “Not pharaohs…not queens…what else…have you got?”
“Don’t know!” she gasped, clearly frustrated. “Records…in the temple aren’t…complete, perhaps. Some names may have been lost…or copied incorrectly. Many of the queens’ names…weren’t recorded. Kings in those days…had many wives.”
“Great,” Jack said. Picking up her useless papyrus, he used it to clean off his blade, then sheathed it. Then he handed the list to Christophe so he could do the same. “How many more of these beasties are we likely to encounter?”
Amenirdis stared down at the dead creature. “A combination of cobra and scorpion. Both creatures of Earth. That means we have Air, Fire, and Water still waiting for us.”
“Zut!” Christophe said. The rogue still hadn’t managed to catch his breath.
“Think, Amenirdis,” Jack said. “If it’s not pharaohs, or queens, what could it be? Some ordinary term? The word for sandals, or bread, or liver and onions? Something like that?”
Amenirdis and Christophe were both looking at him as though he’d sprouted pink and green feathers. “All right, forget the liver and onions,” Jack said, disgustedly. “You said it had to be a word that was sacred right? Okay, pharaohs are sacred, and queens, I grant you that. What else is sacred?”
“Well, the gods themselves,” Amenirdis said. “And goddesses, too, of course.”
“Which of them would be special to Apedemak?” Jack persisted. “This is his temple, after all.”
“Special?”
“Does he have a wife? A sister? Brother? Parents? A son or daughter?”
“No, none of those things, at least not as he was worshipped in Kush, or Nubia,” she said. She looked thoughtful. “But Apedemak was worshipped in Egypt, too, in the ancient times.…” She began to walk back and forth, avoiding puddles of venom, thinking aloud. “In Egypt he was worshipped under the name ‘Maahes.’”
“That’s worth a try.”
“And Maahes did have a mother,” Amenirdis said, still pacing. “In northern Egypt, he was the son of the cat goddess, Bast. And in southern Egypt, closer to Kush, the cat goddess who bore him was known as Sekhmet.”
“Three more names for you to try, then,” Jack said. He passed around the canteen again, then offered the others strips of smoked meat and dried fruit, while chewing on some meat himself.
“This room doesn’t have an exit,” he said, picking up the coil of rope, then shouldering the bag. “So where do we go now?”
Amenirdis pointed to the wall to the right of the one they’d come in. “We go there.”
“How do you know?” Jack said, then answered himself. “Because part of that wall isn’t there.”
She nodded. The men followed her through the wall.
They kept going, moving as quickly as they could, always alert for the next trap. Amenirdis led them through four more illusionary walls, before they stepped into another large chamber instead of a corridor. Jack looked around him. “Uh-oh.”
Before he could worry further, another creature pushed through a wall to the right of them. This one was not a monster, not exactly. It was difficult to see, but when Jack heard its shrill cry, he knew it was real, and dangerous. It was an enormous falcon, and it appeared to be made of pale, shimmering smoke.
The creature was as big as their first foe. Its shadowy beak and talons were huge, and somehow Jack knew they were real enough to wound, or kill. “Here were go again,” he muttered. “Amenirdis!”
“Maahes!”
The shadowy falcon opened its beak and screamed. Jack drew his cutlass.
“Bast!”
Christophe drew his sword.
“Sekhmet!”
Without further ado, the grayish falcon-shape turned and vanished into the wall at the same spot where they had entered the chamber.
Jack looked at Amenirdis. “Good job, love. That simplifies things considerably.”
She nodded. “That one was Air, Jack.” She led them through the illusion-wall.
Now that they had the word, they moved faster, occasionally breaking into a jog. The next time they found themselves in one of the larger rooms, Jack and Christophe merely leaned against the wall as an enormous salamander, the size of an elephant, lumbered toward them. It was black, spotted with orange, and the whole thing had a faint haze of flame flickering around it.
“Sekhmet!” they all yelled.
“That was fun,” Jack commented, watching the last of the creature’s flaming tail disappear through the wall. “So much for fire.”
The corridors seemed to be growing narrower. They curved a bit more.
Jack had gotten so blasé about the illusion-walls that he didn’t even bother to shut his eyes when he passed through the next one they encountered. And that was the only thing that saved him from being snatched up by the great jaws of the nightmare waiting on the other side. It was another hybrid, an insane cross between a crocodile and a hippopotamus, but twice as big as a normal hippo. The crocodile jaws yawned above him, rimmed with sharp teeth. Atop the grayish head waggled cute little round water-horse ears. The jaws snapped shut, just missing him.
“Sekhmet!” Jack screamed like a banshee, dropping and rolling away as a mighty foot the size and shape of a barrel of powder—but rimmed with vicious curved claws—slammed down.
The hippo-croc trundled forward, through the wall, and was gone.
“Jack, are you all right?” the princess asked, rushing to Jack’s side.
“I nearly got my bloody arse eaten by that water beastie,” he grumped, sitting on the floor in the dust. He sneezed thunderously.
After he picked himself up, and reclaimed his bag and rope, they went through the illusion-wall—only to find themselves in the center of the labyrinth.
It was just as Amenirdis had described it, except that the piles of treasure were now dusty. Dust even filmed the large, pale-green gem that lay atop the outstretched palm of the golden statue of Apedemak.
Jack, who had known what to expect, didn’t stop to look around. He bolted straight for the statue and grabbed the Heart of Zerzura. “Mine!” he caroled, blowing the dust off, then kissing it as he jigged across the floor. “All mine!”
“Jack?” Amenirdis ran toward him. “Jack, what are you doing?”
“Grabbing the best part of the treasure,” Jack said. “What else did you expect, lass?”
“No, Jack!” Amenirdis cried out in shock, her voice full of outrage and sorrow, “No! I told you! Zerzura needs the Heart! Please, Jack! Please!”
“Sorry, Amenirdis,” Jack said. “Someone should have warned you never to trust a pirate.”
“Jack,” she begged, “don’t do this. After everything we went through! Please!” Sobs choked her voice.
Jack shrugged. “Sorry. I made it clear from the beginning I was in this for meself.”
Pulling the duffel bag off his shoulder, he shoved the Heart down into it, then took out the largest of his sacks. “Now, for some more treasure,” he said, looking around at the chests full of coins, gold and silver plates and cups, inlaid weapons, plus coffers spilling over with gemstones and jewelry. Grabbing a handful of jewelry, he let it slide into the sack. He was careful to keep one foot on the canvas duffel every time he bent over to grab another handful to slide into the bag.
Amenirdis, having seen the futility of pleading, stood there, weeping quietly.
While the altercation between Jack and the princess had been going on, Christophe had quietly been stuffing his own bag, only stopping when it began to bulge. His depredations barely made a dent in any of the piles. “Jacques,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over the rendition of “Spanish Ladies” that Jack sang while happily filling his bag, “how do we get out of this place? Do we have to find our way back through all those illusion-walls again?”
“Nope, mate,” Jack said, absently buffing a huge ruby on his coat, then holding it up to the light coming from the ceiling. “Amenirdis was k
ind enough to tell me earlier that the second door, the one opposite the door we just came through, is a shortcut, pretty much a straight route back. You go down a ramp, and it takes you to a passageway under the floor of the labyrinth, then it surfaces just one corridor away from the entrance. There’s a door built into the wall that only opens one way. You push it open and turn right, and then there’s the entrance, just a few feet on. Are you ready to go? I’m having trouble deciding whether to get more gemstones, or more gold coins.” He gazed at the treasure piles thoughtfully.
“I will be ready in a moment, Jacques,” Christophe said, “I just need one more item. If you would be so kind…hand me the Heart.”
Jack heard a choked cry, and turned around, to find the rogue pirate standing with his hand over Amenirdis’s mouth. His pistol was pressed to her temple. Her eyes were wide with terror.
Jack’s mouth fell open. “Wha—”
Christophe’s smooth, educated tones grew harsher, more threatening. “I know you, Jacques. You’ve always been soft. You wouldn’t even kick that old sot who puked on your boots into the cove. You might be willing to steal from your pretty blackamoor here, but you’d never want her dead. Am I right?”
Jack stood up. “She said pistols won’t work in here, Christophe.”
“Do you really want to risk it, Jacques? Give me the Heart, and I’ll let her go.”
“Christophe, you’ve got plenty of swag!” Jack argued.
“So have you, mon ami. Now are you going to bet the pretty blackamoor’s life on whether I can’t pull this trigger, and if it doesn’t fire, grab this knife out of my sleeve and slit her throat from ear to ear before you can get all the way across this room? I wouldn’t chance it, Jacques.”
Christophe took his hand away from the princess’s mouth just long enough for her to gasp, then whimper, “Please, Jack! Please!”
Jack stood there, poised to leap, but the look in Christophe’s eyes was enough to make him shake his head and put both hands up. “All right, mate. All right. You can have the bloody thing. Let me get it.”
He bent over to pick up his duffle, then reached in and felt around for a moment. “Where’d it—ah. There. Don’t hurt her. I have it.” Jack pulled his hand out of the bag. His fingers tightly gripped the pale-green stone, holding it high so the rogue could identify it. With his other hand, Jack grabbed the small, empty leather bag he’d brought with him. “Here it is, Christophe, see? I’m just going to put it in here, and then I’ll throw it to you. Wouldn’t want to risk scratching it, right?”
Moving slowly, every gesture obvious, he slipped the gemstone into the bag and pulled the ties at the top to secure it inside. “Now I’m going to toss it over there, mate,” Jack said. “See?”
With a gentle toss of his hand, he threw the bag so it landed almost on top of Christophe’s boot. Then Jack straightened up, both hands raised. “Now, let her go, Christophe.”
“Oh, I will, Jacques!” With a vicious shove, Christophe sent the woman reeling across the floor. Amenirdis tripped over a coffer, fell, and lay there, stunned. The rogue pirate reached down and grabbed the bag, peeked inside, then stuffed it into the top of his sack, one-handed.
“And now I take my leave of you, Jacques,” Christophe said. Aiming the pistol at Jack, he pulled the trigger.
The hammer clicked down, but the pistol did not fire. Snarling, Christophe thrust the pistol into his belt. Seeing Amenirdis dazedly trying to sit up, he started toward her, his hand out. “You know, it’s been a long time since I’ve had a woman, little blackamoor, and you really are pretty,” he said. “You’re coming with me.”
A loud, coughing roar split the air. Christophe stopped short, staring at the doorway they had just come through.
An enormous male lion paced through the portal, his yellow eyes fixed on Christophe as he padded forward. Swallowing audibly, the rogue pirate straightened, leaving the princess alone, then he drew his sword and began backing away. Jack stared wide-eyed at the beast as he shook his tawny mane and roared again, so loudly that the piles of treasure rattled.
The lion came to a halt between Christophe, who was still backing away, and Amenirdis, who was crouching on hands and knees, trembling.
“Amenirdis,” Jack said, in a voice that shook, “please tell me that’s an illusion.”
“No, Jack,” she said, her voice unnaturally calm. “He is real.”
Christophe reached his bag of treasure. Grabbing it one-handed, he heaved it up onto his back, then altered his course slightly, now backing toward the exit.
“Ssss…Sek…Sekhmm…” Jack stopped stammering, then glared at Amenirdis. “Say it, dammit!
Christophe reached the exit, stepped through, then finally turned his back and began to run. Jack heard his footsteps echo as he sprinted down the ramp. He was making good time.
“Very well, Jack,” Amenirdis replied, softly. “But it won’t make any difference.” Her voice was steady as she said, “Sekhmet.”
Jack waited for the lion to turn around and head back into the maze, but the king of beasts merely shook his mane again, and stood there.
“Listen, love,” Jack said, “I’m going to come around the perimeter toward you, this way,” he pointed. “When I reach you, be ready to jump behind me.”
“Jack, I don’t think that will be—”
“Just do it, love!” He began edging sideways, reaching down to draw his cutlass. As his fingers closed over the hilt, dizziness engulfed him. He staggered. Heavy blackness swelled like a wave through his mind. He fought to stay conscious, but it did no good. Jack’s last thought as the blackness filled his mind and vision was that he had failed, after all, to protect her.…
Amenirdis watched as Jack crumpled where he stood. He hit the floor, then lay there, unmoving. She noted with relief that he hadn’t smacked his head on the floor, and that his limbs weren’t twisted unnaturally. He almost looks like he’s asleep, she thought.
“He sleeps,” said the lion.
Amenirdis turned back to see the lion sitting a few feet away, regarding her calmly. She hadn’t yet managed to struggle all the way to her feet, so it wasn’t too difficult to bring up one knee, spread her arms, then bow her head in the deepest obeisance, the one used by priests and priestesses when they knelt in the chapel of the temple. “My Lord Apedemak,” she murmured, “I sensed it was you. Please accept my gratitude for saving my life.”
“Why should I not save the life of my handmaiden, little princess?” the god asked. “This is my place, and here my will is what matters.”
“Which is as it should be, Lord,” Amenirdis said. After a moment, she added, “And thank you also for sparing Jack Sparrow’s life. He did not know, as I did, who you were when you entered this holy place.”
“Why should I not spare him?” The god sounded faintly amused. “I chose him, after all, to do my will. To protect my people. To protect the Heart of Zerzura.”
“So Christophe indeed took the ordinary rock I cast an illusion spell on this morning?”
“Yes,” said Apedemak. “For all the good it will do him. He will not live long enough to enjoy the real treasure he took with him.”
She glanced over at Jack’s duffel. “My Lord Apedemak,” Amenirdis said, hesitantly, “should I go and take the real stone out of Jack’s bag? Perhaps conceal it, and thus protect it? Jack sounded so…genuine…about wanting it for himself, when he held it in his hand.”
“If you do that, my handmaiden,” Apedemak said, “will you not wonder all your life whether he was a good man, or one who would have betrayed you?”
Amenirdis nodded. “I accept your wisdom, Lord,” she said. “I will make an offering in the temple tonight to thank you for your gracious generosity toward this man.”
“Good,” the lion-god said. “Go with my blessing, handmaiden.…”
As Amenirdis stared at him, the huge lion vanished, to be replaced by the figure of a man with the head of a lion, shining with golden radiance. The sight was so
beautiful, yet so terrible, that she hid her face, and when she finally dared to look again, the god was gone.
Jack stirred, then sat up, rubbing his eyes. Yawning and stretching, he tried to remember what had happened, and how it had come about that he’d been lying there, asleep, on the floor of the labyrinth. The only image that floated through his mind was that of a huge lion, which was silly, of course. He’d seen a lot of beasties today, but a lion wasn’t one of them.
“Jack, you’re awake.”
Turning, he found Amenirdis sitting cross-legged on the floor, not far from him. “Hallo, love. Somehow I fell asleep. Can you imagine?” Jack shook his head. “Must have been the big fight with the cobra-thing. Think it’s about time we got out of here, don’t you?”
She nodded. Jack climbed to his feet, then helped her up. He picked up his duffel, then the coil of rope, and, finally, picked up the sack containing his collection from the treasure piles. “Shall we?” Smiling, he held out his hand to Amenirdis.
The princess gave him a wan smile as she took his hand. Together, they started across the dust-scuffed floor, heading for the exit. She walked slowly, head down, shoulders slumped; he was nearly towing her along. “You seem really tired, love,” Jack began, “so maybe you should go back to the palace and take a nap before we—”
Breaking off, Jack snapped his fingers. “Oh, wait. I’m forgetting! Hang on a second, love.”
Setting down his sack of treasure, he untied his duffel, reached in, and withdrew the big, pale-green stone, then turned around and trotted back, crossing the center of the labyrinth. When he reached the statue of the lion-god, Jack carefully placed the Heart of Zerzura back on the golden outstretched palm. “There you go, your godliness,” he said, lightly. “Keep that illusion strong. Your people don’t need Cutler Beckett and his lot of greedy maggots crawling around the Shining City.”
Jack turned away, just in time to nearly be knocked down when Amenirdis threw herself at him. Instinctively, he grabbed her. “What—”
Flinging her arms around his neck, the princess hugged him so hard she nearly drove the breath from his lungs. “Jack, Jack…my love, my love…”
Pirates of the Caribbean: The Price of Freedom Page 63