Song of Isis

by Diana Kirk

  "It is nonsense."

  She hesitated, but Merikare jerked her forward, again. "It is in the scroll. Alex told me this, herself."

  "It is an evil ruse," he said. "To fool you into a trap. No doubt your husband's assassins lie in wait for us at the tomb."

  "I swear it is so." Tem's eyes narrowed. "Alex was filled with grief when I did not give her the scroll. Now, stop, you foolish dog! Listen to me." Tem planted her feet deeper in the soft sand and refused to budge.

  "Here." She thrust the scroll toward him. "See for yourself."

  As his fingers grasped the papyrus, a warm sensation traveled up his arm. It tingled with a low vibration as if it had life. He dropped it.

  "You felt it."

  "I did. But that is not to say this thing is not evil and will not cast us into the netherworld where we will fail in our journey to the afterlife as we have not been properly prepared."

  "Nay, this is not of Anubis. And cannot you see that Alex is not of Egypt? Her land is distant, with many wonders." She grasped his arms and shook him. "Have you not wondered why her skin is so pale and her knowledge so vast?"

  "Nay, I--I thought she might be from the far northern regions across the great sea."

  Tem laughed, a harsh, disdainful sound. "Her skin is the color of the finest alabaster. She looks as if a statue came to life and walked upon this land. None such as her exist."

  "This could not be."

  "My husband's tomb is just ahead and it is there we will prove the secret of her magic."

  "DOES IT PAIN you much?" Tarik reached out and laid his hand against Alex's cheek.

  "About as much as yours." She glanced up at him and returned the caress. The bruise across his temple had swollen and the deep blue shadow grew darker. "We're a fine pair of warriors. Maybe we should've stayed behind and rested a while--waited for Mentuhotep's men."

  "They are engaged in battle. We cannot dally, for Tem knows the tomb as well as I. If she does possess the knowledge of your scroll, then we may very well already be too late."

  "If it wasn't for what they might do to Dad, they could go to hell for all I care."

  "And you would not mind staying here with me? Forever?"

  "Forever isn't long enough."

  Tarik pulled her close against him and brushed his lips across hers. "You would do this for me?"

  "I can't deal with life without you."

  "And yet, you would go back to protect your father."

  "Yes. But that's not all. How can we allow two people as evil as Tem and Merikare to control the secret of time travel?"

  "Time travel?"

  She shook her head. "Who knows what they'd do with that kind of power."

  His eyes misted and he pulled her tight against him. "I do not know the meaning of this time travel, but I know it is right you should return and protect your father. I would wish to go with you, but my place is beside my Pharaoh." His gaze locked with hers. "You will come back to me--I know this."

  The thought of never coming back, never seeing him again, never feeling the warmth of his arms around her filled her with panic. What if there was only one trip left in the scroll's magic? And what if Tem and Merikare had already taken it?

  LOW RUMBLING shook the desert floor. Tarik and Alex crouched low along the tomb's entrance. The tremor abated, then another took its place.

  "They've done it." Alex rushed forward down the steep slope. "Tem's reading the scroll."

  "Wait." Tarik grabbed her arm. "I must go before you."

  The sound of angry voices echoed through the tomb and Alex gazed into Tarik's dark eyes. "They're still here. We're not too late." She rushed passed him. "Come on."

  The murmurings grew louder. Alex recognized Merikare's angry voice reverberating throughout the subterranean chambers.

  "You have not read the words correctly."

  "Do you dare to correct me, you ignorant dung-beetle," Tem accused.

  "Viper, you dare to call Pharaoh of Lower Egypt thus?" Merikare shouted. "I shall see you perish with your own vile words!"

  "And I shall travel to this distant land without you, dare you not silence that impudent lip of yours," Tem answered.

  "Shhh." Tarik drew his dagger. "Perhaps I can gain his attention."

  Another, stronger rumbling rained sand and rocks down on their heads.

  "Paif I merti, maa utat em." Tem's clear voice rang out.

  "Oh, my God, Tarik. She's simply saying the words and it's working." Alex took an anxious step forward. "Hurry, we're almost there. We've got to stop her."

  "Qa ma, henk ab er nek sah an qem xerefu,..."

  "No!" Alex stormed the room in a full run with Tarik close behind. Their plan forgotten, she flew headlong into Tem tearing the scroll from her grasp. "Get back, you scorpion," Tem screeched. "You've no power here."

  Tarik shoved Merikare into the wall. Alex rolled and caught Tem's legs in a scissor hold. "Hurry, Alex," Tarik called. "The words! Say the words!"

  Alex clutched the scroll to her chest and prayed her voice would allow her to say the final phrase. "...a--akeru a--apt renpet er t--tetta."

  The room blurred and whirled. Shapes lost their form and swirled slowly, fluidly. As if in slow motion, Merikare pulled his dagger and threw it straight for her heart. Tarik launched himself forward and in that instant Merikare's blade imbedded itself deep in Tarik's back, missing her completely. Oh God! He'd thrown himself in its path to save her.

  With a cry, Tarik tumbled forward into Alex's arms, his eyes wide with pain and shock. The deafening rumble grew louder. The room swirled faster. The dizzying sensation sickened her.

  Alex clutched Tarik tightly, so tight she felt the beating of his heart. Everything was crazily out of control and Alex watched Merikare shrink back in terror against the far wall.

  Tem, alone, seemed unaware of the changes, standing defiant in the face of chaos. She crossed over and stood directly in front of the gleaming statue. "You think Isis will protect you? See how she protects your husband."

  Blood flowed freely down Tarik's back slicking her hands. His shallow breathing was a clear sign of danger. He was in shock. Would he even survive the trip? It didn't matter, anymore. If he stayed here he was as good as dead.

  The ground trembled beneath them and the air was alive with electricity. The golden statue of Isis teetered back and forth. Yet, Tem stood her ground at the base, screaming her commands at Merikare to kill them.

  "Get out, Tem," Alex hollered above the din. "While you still have a chance."

  "It is you who will die this day, and I will have the pleasure of taking your last breath with my own hands."

  Tem reached forward and grabbed at the air. Alex shrank back.

  "This will not save you, woman. For I have--aieeeah!" Tem's scream of agony pierced the air. The large gilded statue of Isis toppled and fell, crushing her.

  Alex hung on to Tarik, afraid she might lose him. Her lungs constricted and she fought down the panic that threatened to rise up and steal her breath.

  She repeated the words, "...akeru apt renpet er tetta." Over and over, she called out. Louder and louder, praying the magic was still there.

  The room swayed and rotated. Was she weakening? Would she give up? Pass out?

  The room spun out of control. Alex and Tarik with it. And rumbling. And quaking. She clutched Tarik tighter. His eyes opened briefly and two words slipped from his lips. "--love you."

  Thunder rocked the room and darkness claimed her.

  Alex was caught in a vortex of bright colors, a kaleidoscope of sound, sensations hurtling her through space. Or time?

  LIGHT BLINDED her. But it wasn't the sun. The light was man made--electric. The golden statue of Isis was back on its pedestal, silently beckoning the faithful to worship. The dizziness subsided and Alex glanced down. In her arms was a man. Tarik, the man she loved.

  But he was near death, his breathing shallow from blood loss and the shock of what they'd just been through.

  "Alex
?" A voice called to her in English. How wonderful. She hadn't heard her native tongue in months. Her father's voice echoed around her. "Alex! For heaven's sake. Is that you? I thought--"

  Her father stood immobilized.

  "Dad, I'll explain later. Hurry. We've got to get Tarik out of here. He's dying."

  "Tarik? But--who?" Her father's eyes widened and his jaw dropped open.

  "He's my--my-- Oh, hell, Dad, --he's my husband."

  "Your what?"

  "I'll explain later."

  "Damn right you will, girl." He motioned to several workers and they picked up Tarik, but Alex refused to let go of him. "I was worried sick. I thought you'd been kidnapped." He smiled. "Let go of him, now. Ahmed can take him."

  Slowly, she released her grip. "Careful. I don't know how much blood he's lost, but I've got to get him outside so I can examine the wound."

  Ahmed and his men carried Tarik gently up the steep incline, into the sun, and down the slope toward the camp.

  "It's here. It's still here." Awe filled her voice.

  Her father glanced at her with concern. "What are you talking about? Never mind. Right now, I need to get both of you to a hospital."

  "No, Dad. I'm fine." She placed her hand on his shoulder. "It's just that everything seems so different somehow."

  "Hurry!" She motioned to the men to carry Tarik into her father's tent. "Put him down over here." She pointed to the cot. "I've got to get a look at that wound. He might be bleeding internally."

  Alex perched on the edge of the cot and slowly, carefully examined Tarik. Within minutes she had assessed the damage and caught her father's eye.

  "Is it serious?"

  She shook her head. "It's deep, and I'll have to keep a careful eye on him for infection, but the blade must've bounced off his scapula and missed his lung."

  "Blade?"

  Realizing where they were, Alex glanced up at her father's worried face. "I don't know how to tell you this, Dad. Tarik is your second great find. A living, breathing eleventh dynasty Egyptian."

  "B--but--"

  "And he's, I mean, we're here, now."

  Chapter Twenty

  HEAVY FOG swirled inside Tarik's head. Had Anubis claimed his ka? Pain broke through the mist, and the spinning slowed. A face appeared in his vision. A face so lovely that for a moment he thought he had made the journey to the netherworld and Isis, in all her glory, awaited him with open arms. Strange how similar Isis and Alexandria seemed. Perhaps it had been his lady god all along who had married him and taken him to a new world.

  His vision cleared to a bright, hot glare that stung his eyes. She leaned down and brushed her lips, cool and inviting, along his. He tasted the sweetness of her and the faint scent of queres filled his senses. Alex whispered soft and low in his ear. "Tarik? Can you hear me?"

  Strange, he seemed to separate from his body and his tongue felt weighted, heavy, unresponsive. He fought for consciousness and opened his mouth to answer but only rasps and croaks escaped his lips.

  "You're all right, Tarik. Do you understand? Can you hear me?"

  He struggled against a dark tunnel that dotted the brightness and tried to speak again. "Alex?"

  "Yes, darling, it's me. We're home."

  "Home?"

  She laid her cool hand along his cheek. "The scroll worked. It took me, I mean, us, back to the future."

  Tarik struggled to sit up, but pain and dizziness forced him back. An old man dressed in white, filled his view; one who mouthed strange words he could not understand. Words similar to those Alex had spoken when he found her crawling from the tomb, so long before. Had they indeed made the great journey across the sea of time to her world? To her father's world?

  "Alex," he whispered. "I fear it is I who am now at a disadvantage. I do not know your words. Is this your father?"

  She turned, drew the old one forward, and spoke slowly and deliberately in her heavily accented Egyptian, as if he would have trouble understanding, otherwise. "Tarik, this is my father, Professor Ezekiel Stone. He's the one who found Mentuhotep's tomb and the scroll in the first place."

  "What name do you call him in your language?"

  "Father."

  Tarik repeated after her.

  The old man's eyes widened. He grabbed her shoulders, shook her, and laughed, finding breath for a new string of words, but there was only one that Tarik recognized, "Mentuhotep?"

  "What is it? What did he say?"

  Alex smiled and nodded. "You speak an ancient language. One not heard before."

  His head spun. "Ancient language?" My language is spoken everywhere. "How can this be?"

  She smiled and ran her fingers along his cheek. "Here, in my time, not very much is understood about your culture. And as for your language..." She shrugged. "It's been a secret for many centuries."

  Tarik reached up to protest, but a new shaft of pain lanced through him. He winced and dropped his arm. "Alex I do not understand. Do you really believe the scroll brought me to the world of your father?"

  "Yes. And I'm afraid you're my captive now." She leaned down and brushed her lips with his. But their love was not to be. The realization of his duty weighed heavily upon his heart and resignation cooled his blood. His beloved Alex was safe in her own world. He would stay with her until his wounds healed. Then he would use the scroll to return to serve his Pharaoh. If its magic brought him here, then it could take him back.

  "Alex?"

  "Yes, Tarik?"

  "I heard your father call out Lord Mentuhotep's name. What is it that he said?"

  Her eyes widened. "Dad's pleased that we've confirmed the tomb was his."

  "But did he not know from the inscriptions within that it was Mentuhotep's?"

  She ran her cool fingers along his heated brow. "They're deep inside the tomb and he didn't understand what they meant. At first, when Dad sent the mummy's x-rays--" Alex frowned as if lost in thought.

  X-rays? There were so many strange words in her world. A vision of her flashed in his memory. She was dirty, tired, and confused, but she was still the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Was his confusion similar to hers so many months before? He shook his head to clear it. Everything had turned around and now it was he who was lost in a strange world.

  "X-rays? What is this you speak of, Alex?"

  "A mummy. I thought it was--" She stopped and stared off. A look of fear crossed her face, then, as if realization took possession of her, she leaned down and kissed him. But this time the kiss was rich and deep, filled with the promise of many more to come. He reached up and pulled her to him, but she broke the kiss and laughed. "I can see you're feeling much better."

  Her father cleared his throat.

  Alex glanced up into her father's eyes. He had so many questions. How could she even begin to answer them when she didn't know herself what had happened? Her thoughts darkened. The x-rays. Ever since going back in time she had wondered if it was Tarik. But under the present circumstances that couldn't be. He was here. Alive and safe. Hopefully, there was still an unknown mummy resting in the Cairo Museum. At least she hoped it was there and not a paradox of time travel that had changed the future. It didn't matter really. If the mummy still existed, she'd have plenty of time to learn its identity.

  Ezekiel placed a warm hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "Okay, Alex. Let's hear it. Everything. Start from the beginning."

  She glanced down at Tarik. His face registered pain. "You need to rest, Tarik," she said, preparing a hypo. "I've got something that will help you sleep."

  She injected the painkiller.

  "Is it more of your Morphine?" He frowned. "But--"

  His words drifted off and his eyes fluttered shut. His breathing grew deep and even.

  Good. He'd be all right. The wound was deep, but there hadn't been much damage. Sleep would have him up and around in no time.

  Where would she begin? How could she tell her father all that had happened these past few months?

  "All r
ight, Dad. I'm all yours. Ask away."

  Her father's eyes opened wider and he wrapped her in a bear hug. "It's a dream come true, that my daughter would someday join me in unlocking the secrets of the past."

  Alex smiled. "That's an understatement, Dad."

  He kissed her cheek lightly. "I guess this calls for a very large pot of coffee."

  DEEP INTO the night, her father listened to Alex's tale.

  Finally, after finishing a third pot of coffee, her father stretched and paced the perimeter of the tent. He hadn't laughed or called her crazy. He'd listened intently to everything she had to say, his eyes growing wider, his breathing increasing, and his movements impatient, as if he had somewhere to go. Fast.

  She'd obviously struck a chord of something deep inside him, something she'd never seen before. An excitement of enormous proportion.

  "Can I see this scroll?"

  "Sure, Dad." She glanced around the room. "Jeez, in all the turmoil, I must've left it back at the tomb." She rose, but he placed a hand on her shoulder.

  "I'll get it, Sweetheart. You stay with Tarik. I'll only be a minute." He patted her shoulder.

  Alex watched him leave and turned toward Tarik who's eyes fluttered open. "How're you feeling?"

  "How long have I been like this?" he said, groggily.

  "All night. How's the pain? Does it still hurt?"

  "Nay. The medicines you have given me have removed the pain. I feel so outside of myself."

  "I told my father everything. I think he believed me."

  Tarik smiled weakly. "It is I who have lived this with you. And, still, I have trouble understanding."

  She ran her finger through his hair and he captured her hand pressing a kiss to her wrist. Her pulse jumped.

  But there was something odd about this kiss. Odd about the way he looked at her. His expression was tender, but she recognized the determined glint in his eyes. She stared for a long moment trying to read his thoughts.

  Cold suspicion washed over her. Surely, he wouldn't leave. Not now. Not after everything that had happened between them.

  She stiffened. "You're not going back? I won't let you. They'll kill you."