Here lay hundreds of tombs, the final resting places of kings and queens, princes and courtiers. Once the chambers, cut deep into the hills, had been repositories of treasures almost beyond modern conception. But there had been thieves even in the time of the pharaohs, men who had been willing to risk the curse of the gods by stealing what belonged to the gods’ children.
Since then, adventurers had regularly raided the tombs, leaving rubble and silence in their wake. Only in the past fifty years had the true archaeologists arrived, scholars more interested in learning the secrets of the past than in the wealth they might obtain.
Some said that all the tombs had been discovered, all the riches taken, all the secrets revealed.
Leo didn’t believe it. He knew these barren hills and cliffs contained so much more than even the most dedicated scientist could imagine.
When he had arrived in Luxor, he had found the city empty of tourists. None of the natives admitted to having seen the Inglizi. Every instinct told Leo that Boyd had come to Luxor for one reason: he was taking Tameri to the Valley of the Kings.
Leo had nothing more to go on. He still had no idea what Boyd wanted with her. He had only the waking dreams he had tried to deny, the alien words that had come out of his mouth, the scroll. But he could still not decipher the last part. The part he so desperately needed to understand.
On his first night in Luxor, after he’d found a ferry to cross the Nile and a donkey boy to accompany him into the Valley, he lay on his bed at the Luxor Hotel and drifted into the dream. The dream of himself and Tameri in a tomb as yet unraided, arrayed with golden statues and furnishings fit for Pharaoh himself.
There, on the walls, the story of Aset, Asar and Sutekh played out as if it were happening all over again. Sutekh had been defeated. For a time.
But he would rise again. And only the two who had fought him before could stop him when he returned.
Leo wiped grit from his lips with the back of his hand. The scroll still nestled inside his jacket, against his heart. He looked up into the searing blue sky.
He had been in that tomb. He knew it existed, untouched even now, hidden behind another cut into the face of the cliffs. That was where Boyd had taken Tameri. He knew because his heart spoke of truths his mind as yet refused to accept.
Boyd had warned him away from Tameri the first time they had met in her drawing room. The second time he had challenged Leo as if they were enemies, not rivals vying for the same beautiful woman.
“Is it to be here, then?” When Boyd had spoken those words, Leo had thought he meant a simple fight. But there had been more behind the question, more behind his eyes. Something more than human.
Perhaps the late Earl of Elston had been mad when he had claimed a previous existence. Perhaps his visions hadn’t been real. But Tameri wasn’t mad or delusional. She never had been.
Leo urged his donkey into a faster trot. The Valley split into two branches, and Leo entered the eastern wadi. The red cliffs rose high to either side. After a short while Leo realized that the boy and the other two donkeys, along with the supplies they carried, were no longer with him.
It didn’t matter now. Leo knew where he was going. He could only pray that Tameri would survive long enough for him to reach her.
CHAPTER NINE
THE CHANTING WAS DEEP and familiar, echoing from another chamber beyond Tameri’s sight. She knew the words, though they were of a language she had not spoken in thousands of years. They called upon Sutekh, invoked his power and cursed the names of the Good Gods.
And they told of a great sacrifice. A sacrifice that would end only in eternal death.
Sutekh himself had been gone for hours, leaving Tameri to remember his threats and feel the depth of her aloneness.
Leo is not dead. Only that thought kept her from sinking deep into a despair from which she could never emerge. As long as Leo was alive, Sutekh could not succeed.
Tameri pulled at her bonds for the hundredth time, but Sutekh had bespelled them to hold above and beyond any mortal’s striving. If she alone could have stopped Sutekh, she would gladly have given up her body and soul to Aset. If her ending could save Leo, she would die with gratitude.
But she had grasped Sutekh’s purpose. He had spoken of barring Aset from returning to the mortal realm to fight against him. But Tameri believed that he meant to lure Aset into this chamber with tricks and stratagems, bind her to Tameri and destroy both of them.
Was such a thing possible? Could a god be destroyed? Tameri dared not take the risk. Aset might save her if she chose, but Tameri would do everything within her power to keep the goddess from joining with her.
The chanting grew more distinct as the priests drew near the chamber entrance. How long had such men kept reverence for the god of chaos alive? Where had they hidden to work their foul schemes and pray for Sutekh’s return?
I curse you, she told them, though she knew that her curses were useless. Even as she finished the thought, the chanting ceased, and Sutekh returned.
“All is finished,” he said, “except for the summoning.”
“I will not let you,” Tameri said, meeting his gaze with all the ferocity she could muster.
He laughed with those gleaming, serrated teeth. “You have no power, Princess. You never did.” He gestured to someone behind him, and two shaven-headed priests in leopard-skin capes and broad collars positioned themselves to either side of him. They raised their arms as Sutekh began to speak.
Nausea coiled in Tameri’s throat. She fought. She filled her mind with her own chant of defiance. The smell of incense choked her. The voices boomed in her ears.
And Aset came. Perhaps she had been taken unaware. Perhaps Sutekh had managed to shield his presence. But the goddess came, and filled Tameri with her joyful spirit.
Do not fear what is to come, child, she whispered. Your long journey is ended. All is as it should—
“No!” Tameri screamed. And she pushed with all her might, casting the goddess from her mind.
Agony beyond anything Tameri had ever known gripped her body. She arched up from the couch with a hoarse cry, and Aset cried out with her. Tameri’s bonds snapped like tissue, yet she lay still.
Aset was gone, driven away by one who should have welcomed her. But the goddess was safe. She would escape the trap.
Sutekh and the priests approached the couch, unaware that their summoning had failed. One of the priests pushed her back down, while the other produced a wickedly curving knife with a bejeweled hilt carved in the shape of the Sutekh beast twined about by bare-fanged serpents.
“You shall never destroy me, brother of my husband,” Tameri said, praying that she spoke convincingly. “You shall fail.”
“Your time is done, Aset,” Sutekh said. His face distorted, lengthened, grew a downwardly curved snout and tall, squared ears. “Now it is my world.”
The priest raised the knife.
Frantic cries and shouts of alarm stopped him in his strike. Gunshots silenced them. Sutekh spun toward the chamber door.
Leo plunged through it, a gun in each hand. He shot the priests before they could take a single step in his direction and aimed both weapons at Sutekh.
“Tameri,” he said, never taking his eyes from the monster. “Are you all right?”
“Run, Leo!” she cried.
He ignored her and advanced on Sutekh. “He’s gone, isn’t he?” he said to the god. “Boyd no longer exists.”
Sutekh bared his sharklike teeth. “He was of some use for a time.”
Leo edged toward the body of the priest with the knife and kicked the blade away. “Tameri, can you get up?”
“Yes. But—”
“Go, quickly. I’ll hold him.”
“I will not leave you!”
“She is wise,” Sutekh said. “You may have killed my priests, but you will not find it such a simple matter to eliminate me.” He lifted a languid hand, and a spiral of cutting sand rushed through the doorway to encircle Leo an
d rip the guns from his grip.
“I could flay you alive if I wished,” Sutekh said. “But since you have survived, you also will serve me before you die.”
With startling speed, Leo flung himself through the spinning curtain and hurled himself at Sutekh. Tameri caught the flash of a blade just before it struck Sutekh full in the chest.
Sutekh howled. The whirlwind collapsed. Tameri leaped up and attacked the god from behind, clawing at his ears and the coarse red fur of his head. His arm swept back and flung her against the wall.
“Tameri!”
The voice was one she knew, but she could no longer remember to whom it belonged. Two men converged in her mind. Two men and yet a third, who was not a man at all.
Strong hands clutched her shoulders, lifted her, pulled her to her feet. “He has gone, Tameri. We must—”
Crimson heat exploded through her closed eyelids. She heard the thump of Leo’s body as it hit the wall. She fell beside him and opened her eyes.
Sutekh had grown to such a height that the tips of his ears brushed the chamber’s ceiling. He wore a kilt woven of golden thread, armbands of precious platinum and a collar of ebony beads over his broad, naked chest. He raised one long-nailed hand, and Leo was propelled into the air by some invisible and irresistible force. He dangled there like an insect at the end of a fisherman’s hook.
“You see?” Sutekh said. “You cannot wound me. You cannot kill me.” He clenched his hand into a fist, and Leo’s breathing grew strangled and hoarse. “I could crush you with a thought. But you may still save yourself, and your bitch.”
“Let…her go,” Leo croaked. “Do what you want with me, but let her—”
“Let us ask the princess,” Sutekh said. “Your lover will surrender his life for yours. Would you do the same?”
Tameri braced herself against the wall and inched her way up until she was on her feet again.
“I would,” she said, finding that she still had strength and courage enough to hold the evil one’s gaze.
“Such devotion is admirable. But neither of you need die.” He grinned at Leo, whose face had begun to go white. “You need only call upon him to whom you have already offered your life.”
“No!” Tameri cried. “It’s a trick—”
Scorching wind caught her, seized her limbs and lifted her just as Sutekh let Leo fall. Unseen fingers squeezed her throat.
“It is no trick that you shall die unless your lover chooses to save you.”
“No,” Tameri whispered. But Leo was already up, catching his breath, facing Sutekh like a warrior born.
“What must I do?” he demanded.
Tiny starbursts sizzled inside Tameri’s head. The tomb and the figures in it wavered like an illusion of water in the desert.
And then it was all changed. All but Sutekh, who gazed upon the young Egyptian soldier with open glee.
“Think, Maahes,” he said. “You died once in this place, for nothing. You cannot be victorious. Save yourself. Save your lady. Call upon the gods who have left you to your fates. Let them bear the punishment!”
Maahes clenched his fists. Perspiration sheened his chest and arms, the rigid tendon and muscle of his well-honed body. How could I ever have found him less than beautiful? Tameri thought. We were always meant for one another. The gods themselves declared it.
And I declare it, my love. We shall be one, even if we die.
“Do not, Maahes,” she said. “I am not afraid.”
But Maahes looked up at her, a terrible resolve in his clear brown eyes. “What must I do?” he asked again.
“You have the knowledge, and the power,” Sutekh said. “It was granted to you by those who now betray you. Summon them!”
Maahes closed his eyes and raised his head. His chant rose to pervade the tomb, reaching out beyond the door and through the long, dark passageway to the desert beyond. Clouds of dust rained from the roof, and the great stone blocks groaned.
The invisible fist clutching Tameri’s neck released, and she plunged down to sprawl at Sutekh’s feet. She pushed to her hands and knees and began to crawl toward Maahes, reaching for his sandaled feet.
It was too late. A breath of cool, fresh air drove out the fetid heat, and Tameri felt his coming: Asar, deceived as Aset had been deceived, coming at the invitation of his most loyal servant.
“Ah,” Sutekh said. “At last it will end.”
Helpless, Tameri watched as Maahes began to tremble. Spasms wracked his body, and his jaw clenched with such force that she feared it might break. For a moment he went limp. And then it was as if the very sun had come up in his face, and he opened his eyes.
Even a god could feel shock, and Asar stared at Sutekh in bewilderment.
“You,” he said. “What are you—”
A deadly lance of sand shot from Sutekh’s outthrust hand. It struck Maahes-Asar full in the chest. He staggered but did not fall. He extended his arm, palm out. Sutekh snarled.
But even Tameri knew it was not a real contest. Asar had been taken unaware, trusting in his avatar to act only for the greater good. And Maahes held him back. Maahes would not give himself completely.
He will not leave me.
Neither Asar nor Sutekh once glanced at Tameri as each struggled for dominance. But they had also forgotten Aset.
There was no choice. Only in concert with her husband could the goddess hope to defeat the god of storms. Tameri spoke silently, recalling the words with ease, twining them about with a warning.
When Aset came, she was not deceived. She encircled Tameri with fierce gentleness, the heart of a warrioress and mother protecting her child.
Yet she did not take Tameri’s mind. She hid herself, burrowing deep inside Tameri’s soul, allowing Tameri the final decision.
Tameri rose, her limbs strong and sure. She stepped between Asar and Sutekh, facing Maahes as if the god of chaos were no more than a fangless snake to be ignored as vermin. Before Sutekh could react, she stepped toward Maahes and kissed him on the lips.
Radiant illumination, as cool and blue as clear water, splashed outward from their brief joining, encircling them both in a shield of light Sutekh could not penetrate. Maahes was stiff for a few seconds, and then gathered her into his arms.
“My lady,” he murmured. “My love.”
Sutekh roared behind them, but his voice was as thin as a wailing babe’s. Tameri took Maahes’s lean, bronzed face between her hands.
“There is but one chance,” she said, speaking with Aset’s voice. “But one power that can overcome our enemy.”
He traced her back with his fingertips. “We will be vulnerable. We may fail.”
“This is our final opportunity, My Lord Asar. There will be no other.”
“We may yet escape.”
“And leave these mortals to their deaths? Leave Sutekh to make of the world a desert where hope withers like reeds in the drought?”
Asar was silent, searching her eyes, her heart. “Are they willing?” he asked.
“Let them speak.”
Tameri felt Aset retreat again, restoring voice and body to her control. She could feel Sutekh at her back, but for a moment—this fragile moment—the blue light protected her and Maahes.
Maahes. And Leo. Nothing separated them now; they were one and the same, joined across millennia.
“Do you understand?” she whispered.
Her love—scholar and soldier, gentleman and peasant—pulled her close and pressed his face into her hair.
“Asar was right,” he said. “There is only the merest chance. They will end with us if we fail.”
“It is worth the risk.” She drew back to look into his eyes. “Once we were willing to sacrifice ourselves for the sake of the good. Asar and Aset are prepared to gamble their immortality on the chance that we will succeed.”
He tucked her head under his chin, and she could feel the shudder of his breath. “I would not lose you again.”
“If we are victorious, nothing wi
ll be lost.” She kissed the hollow beneath his collarbone. “And we will have this, my love. Let us make these minutes an eternity.”
She felt him turn away, his rough black hair sliding beneath her fingers. But then he tilted her face and bent to kiss her again.
CHAPTER TEN
THERE WAS NO TIME FOR gentle loving, tender caresses or whispered promises of eternal love. The protection that permitted them this time together would not last; Asar and Aset, powerful as they were, could stretch themselves so far and no farther.
Leo no longer doubted. He no longer feared his other self, the man he had been when he had first loved Tameri. He was Maahes.
And he was Asar as he gathered Tameri up and carried her to the couch, kicking aside her broken bonds as he knelt to lay her down. Asar waited within him, waited for him to finish what Maahes and Tameri had begun so long ago.
Tameri was ready. Love shone bright as lapis lazuli in her eyes. No fear troubled the smooth and gentle planes of her face. She lifted her arms to him. He rested one knee on the couch and removed her transparent linen sheath, sliding it from her supple figure in one motion.
Her body was a thing of wonder, its beauty such that a single glimpse might drive a man to madness. Her breasts were lush as ripe fruit, her nipples erect and begging to be tasted. Below the slope of her belly lay the dark, moist shadow that concealed her most potent magic.
Maahes stripped off his belt and kilt, bunching the linen and concealing it behind the couch. His member rode high and hard against his belly. Her gaze surveyed him, all in an instant, and her breath grew fast. Lust roared up in Maahes’s chest, raging as hot as Sutekh’s futile cries of fury.
She opened herself to him, and he eased down into the cradle of her parted thighs. She whispered his name. He hesitated, knowing that everything must change once he had breached this last of her defenses.
But there was no going back, even if he could have compelled himself to stop. He leaned his weight on his arms, found her warm, wet portal and entered her with a firm, deep thrust.
Heart Of Darkness Page 26