Leo shook with rage. But there was no profit in remaining, not while Tameri gazed at him with such loathing. Somehow Boyd had poisoned her mind against him, though he didn’t know how or why. Common jealousy was the simplest explanation.
But Leo did not believe it.
“You shall have what you wish, but not now.” Boyd was just as eager to make mincemeat of Leo as Leo was to disassemble his rival piece by piece. But their antipathy went beyond whatever each of them might feel for Tameri.
What do I feel?
Recognizing the necessity for a temporary retreat, Leo left. There was nothing Boyd could really do to harm Tameri; he might seduce her, but she was a grown woman who had the right to make her own choices.
Does she? Do I?
He ignored his carriage, walked as far as the nearest pub and gave himself to oblivion.
CHAPTER SIX
TAMERI STOOD BEFORE the warehouse door, enveloped in the dark, hooded cloak that protected her identity from the common folk who wandered these mean, comfortless streets. She had grown to know this place well, but the poor neighborhood seemed more and more a ghost of itself, shrinking and fading, as she herself had begun to fade.
Her feet carried her down the hidden staircase, but she was scarcely aware of her progress. She had felt strangely detached ever since the night Alastair Boyd and Leo Erskine had quarreled, and she had driven Leo away.
It was for the best. But when it had happened, when she had told Leo she never wanted to see him again, she had not realized what she was saying. Only after Alastair had gone had she remembered, and understood. She still could not quite recall what Alastair and Leo had said to one another, but it scarcely mattered. The deed was done.
All for the best, though her heart had shriveled and her body felt like that of an old woman, functioning only because necessity demanded it.
The others were waiting for her when she reached the doors to the basement. She knocked twice. The doors opened, and the woman within bowed deeply, her linen sheath pressed to her body by a gust of wind trailing in Tameri’s wake.
The votaries had already gathered and stood before the dais, where the priest waited to begin. They turned and bowed, some sinking to the floor as Tameri walked past them.
They knew her. Over the past months they had gathered here as if urged by some voiceless summons…only a few at first, then more, until there were two score followers, all committed to the Great Battle. Their cloaks lay draped across the chairs set out for them; there was no need for secrecy here.
The goddess stood on the dais, her limestone figure benevolent and smiling, bearing a crook in one hand and an ankh in the other, the sun disk and horns of Hathor upon her head. The priest, draped in leopard skin, smiled and bowed to Tameri as if nothing at all had occurred in her drawing room two days before.
“Lady,” he said. “It is a blessed day.”
She studied his face, its harsh planes framed by his black wig. There was more in his eyes than respect or even satisfaction. He believed what had passed between them held greater significance than what she ascribed to it. A kiss was not necessarily a promise of something more. And he knew better than anyone why she must remain free to follow where Aset led her.
But he was as necessary to the cause as she, though they both waited for the sign, the dream, the vision that would make all plain and set them on their proper paths.
“The time is coming, my lady,” Sinuhé said, touching the sleeve of her cloak.
She inclined her head, preparing to move past him to the dais. He stopped her.
“You are still troubled,” he said. “Has Erskine sought you out again?”
“No. I am well.”
“Yet your visions remain clouded. The goddess has said that Sutekh has risen. We must know how to proceed.”
She pulled her sleeve from his grasp. “As you said, the time is coming.”
“I know a woman,” he said, “who might help us.”
“A woman?”
“A mystic who sees into the past and the future. If anyone can find the true meaning behind what you have experienced, it is she.”
“Do you think it wise to trust an outsider?”
“As I said, I know her well. Her path is not ours, but she, too, will be needed when the Battle begins.”
Tameri could summon up no argument against Alastair’s proposal. Once she had been content to wait for answers, but now she understood the true peril of such delays. Was it not worth trying anything in order to find the next step, the path that would set the Great Battle in motion and clarify her position in it? She was still only mortal, and mortals could so easily fall.
“Very well,” she said. “I shall meet her and determine if she is worthy. Where is this ‘mystic’ to be found?”
“Not far from here,” he said, the warmth of approval in his voice. “I will take you after the ceremony.” He accepted her cloak, bowing, and she moved to stand before Aset, lifting her hands as she began the chant. The others took it up, their voices lapping at the walls like gentle waves.
“Praise to you, Aset, the Great One, Lady of Heaven, Mistress and Queen of the gods.
You are the First Royal Spouse of Osiris,
The Bull, The Lion who overthrows all his enemies, The Lord and ruler of eternity.”
No fear, no anger. Only peace in this place, where the offerings of flowers gave off their sweet scent and the forthcoming conflict seemed very far away. As far away as the voices of the priests who had led her into the tomb, pronouncing their last blessings as she plunged into darkness, the soldier at her side.
Her voice faltered. The acolytes fell silent. The air grew thick, as if someone had sealed all the windows and filled the room with noxious smoke.
Gasping, Tameri backed away from the smiling goddess. Her sandal slipped on the edge of the dais. Sinuhé caught her as she fell and eased her to the floor.
“Mhotep!” he cried.
Tameri coughed and opened her eyes. “There is…no need for a doctor.”
But her protests were ignored. Mhotep, known to the world outside these walls as Dr. Thomas Newton, knelt to examine Tameri while the anxious congregation looked on. He asked her a series of questions, felt her pulse and said that he could find nothing wrong.
“There is nothing wrong,” Tameri said, sitting up. She took several slow, careful breaths and smiled. “I am only a little tired.”
“She must get more rest,” Mhotep said firmly.
“I agree,” Sinuhé said. “I shall see to it.”
Mhotep nodded, bowed to Tameri and left them alone.
“I see how much you wish to deny it,” Sinuhé said, “but you must think not only of yourself, but of everyone in this room and our larger purpose. You will lead us in Aset’s name. She can act only through you.”
Tameri pulled free of his supporting arms. “Perhaps I am not the one.”
“You are. But the stress of your burden has taken its toll. We must seek aid wherever we can find it.” He helped her to stand. “We will go to my friend at once.”
Yes. Anything, anything at all that might put an end to this limbo. She turned to address the congregation with words of reassurance. Sinuhé reminded them that the Lady Tameri had many heavy burdens and duties to attend to.
“Come,” he said, taking her arm again. She could smell the scent of his skin, the odor of burning sand and relentless heat. Not like Leo, who smelled of sandalwood, rich earth and growing things.
You will never see him again.
LEO CROUCHED AT THE DIRTY window, watching the ceremony as his legs cramped and his fingers grew numb.
He felt for the papyrus as he had done so many times during the past few days, as if it might yet divulge its secrets. But the words he could not read remained unintelligible, their meaning beyond his reach.
As Tameri was. Three nights ago, she had made her distaste for him—and her preference for Boyd—quite clear. He had made a few bold promises to himself: that he’d sincerely and humbly
apologize for the advantage he’d taken of her in the Museum; that he’d admit how far his skepticism had fallen, and how much he needed her help to unlock the secrets of the papyrus she had found; and, above all, to make her see that Boyd was a villain, though he had absolutely no proof that such was the case.
Instead here he was, creeping after her like a jackal. Observing rites not meant for his eyes.
I witnessed them once before. I was a part of them.
But he still didn’t believe it. Not yet. Not until he looked into Tameri’s eyes and saw again what he had seen then.
He shifted, attempting to stretch his legs, and leaned closer to the window. Tameri was stepping back from the dais. Falling. The man who caught her, bewigged and draped with a leopard’s pelt, murmured in her ear. Leo stiffened. He could not see the man’s face, but there was an intimacy in their posture, in the priest’s touch.
A dozen seconds passed before Leo felt himself under control again. Control to which he clung by the merest thread.
She is mine.
Bright light swallowed by darkness. The honeyed scent of her skin. Her moans as he parted her thighs…
The roaring in his ears deafened him, and for a moment he saw nothing. His forehead bumped the glass. He opened his eyes.
Tameri was gone, and so was the priest.
Leo sprang to his feet. Nothing resembling rationality moved him; it was all emotion and instinct and fear. He ran to the front of the building, pulled open the door and found a narrow corridor leading to a staircase. The door at the bottom was locked. He pounded on it repeatedly until someone came to answer.
The man was dressed in a light linen tunic, barelegged and wearing a wide golden collar. He gave Leo a startled glance and hesitated just long enough for Leo to push past him.
The echoing room had been decorated with Egyptian wall paintings and false columns, all dominated by the large stone goddess on the dais. A dozen faces turned toward Leo; the man who had come to the door ran after him, his sandals slapping on the cold cement floor.
“Sir!” he cried.
Leo ignored him. “Where is she?” he demanded of the next man he met.
The fellow gaped. “Who are—”
“Tameri! Where has she gone?”
A woman with serene, pretty features, her eyes rimmed with kohl, approached Leo cautiously. “Why do you seek her?”
“She’s in danger.”
Uncertain glances were exchanged, and several other devotees gathered around Leo. “She is in no danger,” the doorman said. “She is with our—”
Leo saw several men and women disappearing behind the statue and ran after them. A small door led directly outside. Leo caught up with the group ahead of him and grabbed one of the men by the arm.
“Where did they go? Tameri and Boyd?”
“I don’t know,” the man stammered.
Cursing under his breath, Leo closed his eyes. It was impossible that he should know what direction Tameri and Boyd had taken, but his feelings continued to circumvent his usually reliable brain. He set out east, passing streets that became more and more disreputable as he proceeded. Buildings long left untended crumbled into the rubbish-filled alleys, and men with shadowed eyes stared after him as he passed.
Chance alone brought him to a corner just in time to see a cloaked figure enter a doorway at the end of a narrow alley. He slowed as he approached the decrepit building, which was hung with a nearly unreadable sign advertising the skills of a fortune-teller.
Leo pushed at the creaking door and ducked under a ragged curtain. The smell of incense washed over him. A woman stood in the dark, close room, facing the door as if she had expected a visitor.
“Welcome,” she said in a smooth, deep voice bearing the accents of the East. “You have come to know your future.”
Dressed in a gown of ebony silk that matched her hair, the woman might have stopped any man in his tracks. She was not as beautiful as Tameri, but even Leo was not entirely immune to her sensual allure.
“A man and a woman entered here,” he said.
She arched her perfectly shaped brows. “You are the first I have seen since sunset,” she said. “Will you not be seated?”
“I haven’t time,” he said sharply. He moved for the back of the room, draped like the other walls in a red paisley brocade.
“Stop. You have no right.” She moved closer and laid her hand on his arm.
“I know she’s here.”
She captured his eyes with her own. “Perhaps I can tell you what you need to know.”
He seized her wrist. “Tell me now.”
Her body tensed. “You are not what you seem.”
“I am a man who can make a great deal of trouble for you if you do not tell me the truth.”
The woman sucked in her breath. “He does not know,” she whispered, as if to herself. “I must—”
“He? Boyd?”
Flinching, she tried to break free of his grip. “I know only what he has told me. By Sekhmet I swear this.”
Leo’s incoherent fears took frightening shape. “Where is she?”
She sank to her knees. “He told her that I could look into her soul and lift the veil that bars her from the truth. I failed, and they left.”
“What does Boyd want with her?”
The fortune-teller’s dark eyes lost their focus. “It is the ancient war,” she said. “The battle that never ends.”
In that other place, in the blackness of a tomb, the one called Maahes had thought of eternal unions, of the long battle against the Evil One. Leo cast the thought aside.
“No more riddles!” he snapped. “Where has he taken her?”
“I do not know.”
“By God, if she comes to any harm…” He twisted the woman’s arm, and she gasped.
“He will kill me!” she cried.
Some unnameable power within him transformed his last shreds of patience into ruthlessness. “Choose,” he said.
She met his eyes, and what she saw in them broke the last of her resistance. “He said he would take her by train to Marseilles, and from there by ship to Egypt.”
Egypt.
“She did not go willingly,” he said harshly.
“He told her that she must go to the Black Land at once. She refused him.” The woman shuddered. “One does not refuse him.”
“Not even a goddess?”
The words made no sense even to him, and yet they rang with truth. Aset had ever stood proud and brave against the God of Chaos. As she must do so now….
Leo’s brief distraction gave the woman the chance she’d been waiting for. She twisted free and lunged for the front door. He moved with inhuman speed and barred the way.
“Fear me,” he said.
“I do,” she whispered, falling to her knees again. “I do, Oh Lord of Eternity.”
He gazed down upon this mortal woman with contempt for her pathetic devotion to the evil one she served. “You shall go with me to the train. You shall help me find them.”
“Yes.”
“Prepare yourself.”
She rose, a wash of black hair falling across her face as she backed through the curtained rear doorway. He didn’t bother to follow. She would not dare defy him now.
The scent of incense grew cloying in his nostrils. He returned to the front door and leaned against the jamb, his mind suddenly clouded and thick with confusion.
Air. He stumbled out the door and into the fetid street. A shadow moved away from the wall, and pain exploded in his skull.
And then he knew no more.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE WORLD SWAM BACK INTO FOCUS.
Tameri stared up at the ceiling, bewildered by the movement she sensed beneath her body. The surface she lay upon was solid enough, padded but firm. She tried to raise her arms and found them tied with silken cord.
She tried to remember. The woman’s hovel. Her catlike stare as Boyd introduced her to Tameri. The strange perfume that had made her fe
el so dizzy. Hands supporting her, voices…
A painful cramp seized at her stomach. She rolled to the side, leaning her head over the edge of the couch. Bile rose sour in her throat.
“Have no fear, my lady. It will pass.”
She forced herself to breathe and straightened. Boyd sat on a velvet-covered bench, regarding her with a faint smile and no concern at all. Her heart contracted into a small, icy pebble.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“Haven’t you been on a train before?” He crossed his legs and reached into his jacket for a cigarette case. “You seem put out, Tameri. You should know that I’ve done everything to insure your comfort…the most private of private cars, complete with every luxury a lady might desire.”
She struggled to sit. “Comfort?” she repeated, raising her bound hands.
“Ah, yes.” He considered his unlit cigarette with a slight frown. “Perhaps that wasn’t necessary. But you are apt to be unpredictable, my lady. You might suddenly develop certain…abilities that might surprise us both.”
The car gave a jolt as the train bounced over an uneven stretch of track. Tameri tasted something other than sickness on the back of her tongue.
She’d been drugged. Boyd had drugged her. She was being kidnapped.
“What do you want?” she asked, striving to maintain her composure. “Why are you doing this?”
“You know part of the story already,” he said, releasing a plume of smoke into the stuffy car. “It was ever your desire to go to Egypt. Now you will get your wish.”
“You are taking me against my will!”
“Had I thought you more malleable, I would have used mere persuasion. But your acquaintance with Leo Erskine has aroused unfortunate doubts in your mind. It was very foolish for you to become involved with an outsider, Tameri.”
“I am not involved with him!” She tested her bonds and found them unyielding. “Is this jealousy, Alastair? Can you have gone so far, simply to—”
“Jealousy? Of a mere mortal?”
Her hands began to go numb. She spoke with great care. “We who obey Aset know that we are destined to aid the Good Gods in fighting the god of storms, but surely you don’t believe that we are other than mortal ourselves.”
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