Heart of the Gods

by Valerie Douglas

  “We? Hired by whom? For what?” he asked.

  She laughed a little. “It was a long, long time ago. I don’t remember who it was that hired us. I was a mercenary, and our group had been hired to fight. It wasn’t always necessary to know which side had hired us…”

  “You fought with mercenaries?” he said, incredulous, his eyes going over her height, her slender body, as muscled and firm as it was, and knowing her skill from that day in the souk and that night in the Hall.

  Even so…

  Her lips curved and her eyes sparkled with amusement.

  “People have become taller as time has passed and as the quality of what they ate improved. For that day and time, I ate very well, my parents being farmers, although they didn’t own the land they farmed. At the time I was average height for a woman. When my parents died in a bandit raid, the priests took me in. I had a natural skill for the sword, so they brought in teachers. When I became old enough, they sold me, apprenticed me, to a mercenary band.”

  She shook her head.

  “Imagine my surprise to find I had shrunk over the ages.”

  Ky laughed and she smiled. It was good to see him laugh again, to see his brown eyes warm, if only a little.

  “How old were you?” Ky asked, curiously.

  He tried to tell himself the information was for historical accuracy.

  “Probably thirteen or fourteen,” she said.

  Thirteen or fourteen. She’d been little more than a child. She would have been barely past puberty… He just stared at her, shaking his head.

  “It was a different time, Ky,” she reminded him gently. “Life was different then, too. Harder in some ways, simpler in others. That was the average age for such an apprenticeship. I was with them for a number of years. As for the sword, I hated shields, they were heavy, cumbersome, difficult to work with, so I had a sword maker make that for me as an alternative.”

  “How did you wind up in Egypt?”

  Everyone around them had gone silent, listening.

  “We were hired to the wrong side, by one of the cities Egypt had decided to conquer and claim as her own. Against the might that was Egypt we lost,” she said. “I was the only survivor...and therefore a prize of war.”

  He looked at her and somehow he knew. “Khai captured you.”

  Nodding, she smiled a little, her eyes going soft as she remembered.

  “Yes.”’

  Her smile grew wry.

  “And then things got complicated.”

  That drew chuckles from almost everyone.

  “So,” she said, sitting on the arm of his chair, leaning forward. “You hold it like this, reversed, so it lays flat along the back of the forearm.”

  He tried it but the hilt didn’t fit.

  “My hands are smaller,” she said, as her blue eyes flicked up to him.

  She was so close he could smell her scent, soft with that bite of spice. The Water of Life? Leaning the way she was, he could see the rounded tops of her breasts.

  Resolutely he tried to put the thought away but it kept coming back. He shifted uncomfortably.

  Now, though, he knew where she learned to fight. She’d been born to it.

  In the morning they would be leaving finally, their week up. This was their last day in the Museum and as happens when you spend any significant time in a given place and start to develop habits, it had become easy to become attached to the place. And he’d already had attachments to it from those long ago years he’d spent in it.

  This was the first place where he’d seen Narmer’s Wall with its hieroglyphics and heard that deep stentorian voice speak of an ancient time, an ancient people and an ancient General with a name like his own who had loved a beautiful Priestess.

  Irisi. Raissa. The woman who sat so close to him.

  Now that other voice was overlaid with hers, the rise and fall of her rhythmic accent, a compilation of her native Welsh, her years as a mercenary and the time she’d spent in her adopted home. Egypt.

  How many years had he dreamed of her, of two of them, Irisi and General Khai?

  She was still beautiful, with her long shimmering hair, her blue eyes brilliant.

  It was time to go, the Museum was closing. Everyone gathered their things.

  They walked through the great museum, their footsteps echoing on the hard floors.

  He looked back one more time at the statue of General Khai… at the empty place beside him.

  Irisi’s seat.

  The rest had gone ahead.

  Including Tareq, who despite the danger insisted on going with them now that the myth of the Tomb of the Djinn might prove to be real. He wanted to be there when they found it, opened it. A new thing in and for his beloved Egypt. Something risen out of myth and legend.

  Raissa looked back, too, the image catching at her, also.

  Khai. He’d been as alone as she.

  “He took me as slave, you know,” she said and smiled wistfully. “As a slave, I was at the mercy of any who wanted to use me, unless an officer claimed me for his own use.”

  Ky looked at her but her eyes were on the distant statue. All he could see was her profile.

  “So he did. He had the same right as they,” she said, her eyes on the distant statue in the fading light, “but he never took it. He told me later it nearly drove him mad…”

  Her mouth curved in a wistful smile.

  Ky understood, she nearly drove him mad, too. He still wanted her. The attraction was there but something held him back, kept him from making the next step. As much as part of him wanted to make it.

  She laughed, softly, oblivious to his thoughts.

  “I had to go to him. It was the only way I could thank him. You have the same kind of honor. He would have liked and respected you. Very much.”

  She walked out through the doors.

  Looking back at the tall figure sitting there, Ky thought she couldn’t have given him a better compliment. A part of him wanted very much for the General to have liked him, respected him.

  Which of them, though, did Raissa think about now?

  He watched her walk to join the others with that long loose stride, her golden hair streaming in the breeze. She tossed it back over her shoulder with one hand, the movement graceful and lovely. He remembered touching her skin, how soft it had been, how real…and the sound of her voice, the aching loneliness that had echoed in the Hall of Statues.

  Chapter Twenty One

  The fascination of flying hadn’t worn off for Raissa although Tareq took the co-pilot’s seat for the return trip by dint of his longer legs but she constantly appeared between the seats to peer out over the nose of the plane, always careful to stay out of Ky’s way while he flew the plane. If she wasn’t between the seats she eeled around behind either Ky’s seat or Tareq’s to peer out the windows in wonder as they had much the better view through the windscreen rather than the small portholes in the main fuselage.

  “Oh, look, cranes,” she exclaimed from behind Ky’s seat as she looked down to the white birds flying below them.

  Ky could hear the amazement and wonder in her voice, see it on her face from the corner of his eye. He looked down, too, to see the birds fly gracefully below with long sweeps of their wings.

  “Aren’t they beautiful?” she said, with a sigh.

  He sometimes forgot the simple pleasures of flying, the amazement he’d known when he’d first started flying.

  They were beautiful and so was she.

  He could imagine the view the boys were getting from behind her and he wasn’t sure he didn’t envy them.

  Tareq was amused as he watched her.

  She was like a bird or a butterfly herself as she flitted from one thing to another, now that she could show her fascination, endlessly enchanted by everything she saw. It was odd to realize how much of it was completely new to her.

  Ky and Tareq traded looks.

  “Oh look,” Ky said, in an undertone, smiling, amused, “something shin
y…”

  And got swatted by Raissa for it as Tareq chuckled.

  “I heard that,” Raissa said.

  “You don’t hit the pilot,” Ky said, laughing.

  She popped up between the seats to look at him challengingly, her brilliant blue eyes twinkling.

  “I do if they are being a…”

  She looked back to Ryan in question, searching for an appropriate word.

  Ryan was always happy to help, especially if Ky was the target and he was eager now to return to how they had been.

  “Asshole…” Ryan supplied.

  She eyed him.

  “That’s a swear word?” she asked, in disbelief.

  “Trust me. A bad one,” Ryan assured her with a nod.

  She looked at him skeptically.

  “Ryan, you’re not helping,” Ky said, glancing back over his shoulder but he fought a smile.

  “Oh but I am, Boss,” Ryan said, his face the very picture of innocence. “Raissa wanted an appropriate word so I gave her one. That’s helping.”

  Personally Ryan didn’t know what the boss’s problem was.

  So okay maybe Raissa was some kind of weird mummy or something…but she was seriously HOT and it wasn’t like the boss was getting any… All you had to do was look in Raissa’s eyes and you could see it…She had a major thing for the boss. So he’d cautioned her not to get involved. That had been when she’d been just a translator.

  So maybe she was some kind of vampire, she’d kicked some serious ass! And saved theirs. And what did she get for it?

  Fuck that shit, Ryan thought, and the horse it rode in on.

  Throwing up her hands, Raissa said, “I can’t say it anyway. I can’t call him that word.”

  Everyone heard the sudden hitch in the engine.

  If they didn’t, they felt it as the plane dropped abruptly enough their stomachs rose.

  As Ryan would say, Ky thought, What the f…?

  He’d done a thorough pre-flight check, everything had been good, everything had been fine.

  Instantly his attention was locked on the controls, as the indicators and then the alarms began to go off, the lights changing to orange.

  “Raissa,” he said, calmly, “Go back to your seat.”

  Their eyes met and she saw the tension in his. There was worry in his eyes.

  No, even worse, there was fear in them.

  They were in serious trouble.

  Instantly, obediently, she slipped back and buckled herself in, seeing the alarm in Ryan’s face as John’s hands locked on the arms of his seat. Only Komi seemed serene, his eyes on the book held tightly in his hands. A book was rarely far from them but he seemed to be giving this one an inordinate amount of attention.

  At the front of the airplane, Ky swore softly.

  He knew the airplane was in good shape because he maintained it himself. It was his baby, his personal aircraft, bought with his own money. He didn’t take chances with it, didn’t skimp.

  This shouldn’t be happening.

  Oil pressure had dropped off sharply. There was a good chance the engine would lock up, he thought, as he looked for a place to land and then it did.

  The airplane became essentially a very large, very heavy glider, they were far too far from the village airport for it to be of much use to them, and he wasn’t seeing anyplace he could put the plane down.

  Suddenly Raissa’s face appeared between the seats.

  “What’s wrong, why did the engine stop?”

  “I told you to go sit down,” he said, sharply.

  She looked at him.

  “If the plane goes down, even I won’t survive it. None of us will. I understand that,” she said, softly. “Will it matter then whether I am here or back there when it happens?”

  Ky looked over his shoulder at her, seeing her lovely face, calm and resolute, the clear blue eyes and his heart caught at the idea of her dying after all these years.

  Whatever did or didn’t happen between them, the world would be a darker place without her in it.

  “If I would die,” she said, looking at him. “I would rather be here, doing something.”

  “For myself,” Tareq said, “I would much rather not crash.”

  From the back Ryan’s voice said, shakily, “I’ll second that.”

  Looking at Ky, Raissa asked, “What do we have to do to not crash?”

  “Make the engine work again. Get a little more wind beneath our wings,” Ky said.

  From the back, Ryan said, “Bad pun, boss.”

  “No pun,” Ky said. “We need lift.”

  Raissa looked at him. “I don’t understand this lift. How, explain it to me?”

  He looked at her. “Raissa…”

  “Tell me,” she insisted.

  Since they were gliding like a rock and he had nothing better to do than try to keep the plane from crashing sooner rather than later, Ky quickly explained to her the concepts of lift and glide as he manipulated what controls he had, keeping the nose up so they glided rather than fell.

  Raissa’s eyes slid closed as she listened, then she began to chant, her voice rising and falling.

  Suddenly the plane found both lift and glide.

  Blue eyes opened, but they were focused inward, her face a mask of concentration.

  “You forget,” she said, softly, “that one of the Goddesses I serve is mistress of the wind. You steer, I’ll keep us in the air.”

  Stunned, Ky choked out a laugh. It seemed impossible.

  “Higher,” he said.

  The altimeter showed them climbing.

  Shaking his head in amazement, he looked at her calm profile, at the level of concentration it took for her to do what she was doing as her lips moved in a soft nearly unintelligible chant.

  One look at Tareq and he knew they shared the same thought. They were listening to ancient Egyptian as it had been originally spoken.

  It was incredible.

  The longer they flew, though, the more it wore on her. She rolled her head on her shoulders but she never stopped chanting. She was tiring visibly. It took something from her to do this, that was obvious.

  “A little farther,” he said.

  Taking a breath, her gaze fixed inward, Raissa nodded.

  Between them, they brought the plane safely to the ground, Ky talking softly to Raissa, telling her what he needed in a stream of consciousness exercise that let them float to the ground like a butterfly only a few hours before sunset local time.

  When Ryan got out of the plane, he kissed the ground first and Raissa second but a warning look kept him from kissing Ky.

  “Sorry, Boss, got carried away.”

  He grinned puckishly.

  Raissa laughed with evident relief, her face pale and her eyes shadowed.

  Ryan wasn’t alone.

  Ky wanted to kiss her, too, but he didn’t know how after all the barriers he’d put up between them, and this wasn’t the place to do it.

  Their eyes met, his and Raissa’s, briefly…and held for a moment.

  If the others hadn’t been there, hadn’t been around…

  She smiled faintly, knowledge and understanding in her eyes.

  It would have to do.

  Ky gave Ryan a look. “John, Ryan, get everything packed into the vehicles.”

  With a nod, John trotted off to do that, relieved also to be on the ground, Ryan beside him, with Komi behind them to talk to the men who had driven their trucks and equipment down while Ky flipped open the cowling to find out what had gone wrong.

  And to his surprise found it.

  He held it the device out to Tareq and Raissa, a little gadget not much bigger than a string level. It had been tucked away out of sight along the oil line, sliding with the movement of the plane. A little electronically triggered blade had pierced the line, allowing it to leak. Steadily. Until there was no oil left in the engine.

  Someone had meant them to crash.

  He looked at Tareq.

  “Are yo
u sure you still want to come with us?”

  Looking at the little device in Ky’s hand, Tareq said, “What will you do?”

  Ky shook his head. “Call the so-helpful Inspector? I don’t think so.”

  It was far more likely the good Inspector would just hold them up longer.

  “No,” he said, “for the moment we do nothing except concentrate on finding the Tomb.”

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Arriving at the dig site felt almost like coming home to all of them, even John and Komi, who hadn’t spent that much time there. It was definitely less foreign than the village and the hotel there. Nor was it surprising to find none of their tents or equipment had been set up. That wasn’t what the guards had been hired for. They’d been hired to protect it not assemble it.

  It only took a little time to set up camp. That was something with which John had a great deal of experience. Wisely, Ky left him to it, either giving him a hand or getting out of his way as the situation required.

  “I’m going to go check out the jeeps,” John said, once everything was in place. “I want to be sure they’re ready to go when we need them, and that no one has tampered with them as they tampered with the plane.”

  Ky nodded. “Good idea, thanks, John. Tareq, would you like a tour of the dig site?”

  The sun hadn’t quite set, there was a little light left in the sky.

  “I would indeed,” Tareq said. “It’s been some time since I have been to a new dig.”

  “Why was the fort abandoned?” Ky asked with a glance at Raissa as they walked toward it, Ryan and Komi following. “Do you know? And why didn’t they take their dead?”

  “I wondered that myself,” Tareq said. “They didn’t give those who died here proper burial, but left them where they lay. That was very unusual.”

  Remembering, Raissa nodded, took in a long breath and then let it out.

  “Khai struggled with it. It was one of the hardest decisions he ever made, abandoning the fort and the people here,” she said, softly.

  “All Djinn but the ghul can possess the living, especially the sila, although those with a strong enough will can resist them. The ghul have only to deliver a fatal bite and their victim will die to rise again as ghul. The second time the fort fell to the Djinn, it fell as much from the inside as it did the outside.”