by Mary Deal
“Everything?”
“Yes, all details?”
“Evidently not,” Chione said, “because I don't know the source of the whimpering or the location of the Burial Chamber.”
“So you don't get everything?” he asked cautiously. “For example, would you expect to know the source?” What could he be leading to? He seemed intent on learning something that he almost looked her straight in the eyes.
“I don't expect anything,” she said. “I merely receive what comes through.”
“So you never see whole picture, as you Americans say?”
“If you're referring to this particular situation, I might get more as time goes by.”
“What is your history, Little One, your ratio of accuracy?”
Why was Masud so interested in her abilities? What was he trying to ascertain? “I've never kept track,” she said.
“She's almost never wrong,” Marlowe said.
“Hm-m-m,” Masud said. “Most curious. I wish to know more. We will speak again about this?”
She shrugged, and then politely said, “Maybe.” Masud nodded, and then walked away. “I'd better get busy,” Chione said, not wanting to have to answer any more questions. “There's a lot of work to be done now.”
Just as she picked her way through the artifacts to the other side of the tent, Dr. Withers appeared from behind a stack of crates and pulled her aside. “I understand you and Aaron made headway a few nights ago.”
“Is that what Aaron told you?”
“C'mon girl. Don't play coy.”
Why, suddenly, was everyone looking to her for answers? “I can't imagine what Aaron might have implied. We both had visions.”
“Yes, similar pictures.”
“They didn't have that much in common.”
“According to him—“
“Dr. Withers, before we begin analyzing our dreams and visions, we need to first understand how to detect the ones which carry those special messages.”
“Sounds logical.”
They waited till several workers passed with more trays. No one knew which of the locals spoke English. Chione had already made it clear that she wished to keep her abilities known only among the team and close affiliates, but word had gotten out.
“A lot of wish fulfillment goes on in the dream state,” she said when they were alone again. “Dreams are presented using symbolism borrowed from the most recent pictures and concepts we've absorbed into our minds during the day.”
“So you both saw Egyptian type scenes because of involvement with this project?”
“Definitely.”
“Anything significant about the similarities of what you both perceived?
“Nothing to speak of.”
“Will you spend time in there again?” He seemed not able to let it go.
“Does Aaron really have to stay?”
Dr. Withers's slow triumphant smile unnerved her. “Yes,” he said.
“What about Kendra, now that Royce is gone?”
“At the risk of sounding sexist and with thieves in our midst,” he said. “I'll sleep easier knowing there's a man in there with you. And don't ask for Clifford or me. We've got our wives out here.”
“Oka-ay….”
“I could send Randy in,” Dr. Withers said, throwing her a teasing glance. “He's returning soon.”
“Oh, no,” Chione said. “No thanks.”
“Guess you're stuck with Aaron,” he said, smiling all too much as he slipped away.
Toward evening, contents of the First Annex had been removed. The Second Annex was being readied. As Chione sat and admired relics of an ancient priestess's effects laid out in front of her on the table, she had great difficulty staying in the moment. She picked up a small, carved turquoise box and was, again, aware of floating between the present reality and an ancient one.
“Get a load of Chione,” Clifford said, whispering behind her. His voice seemed to come to her out of a fog. Scenes paraded through her mind, crowding and distorting reality.
“You'd think one night's sleep would carry anyone through the next day,” Kendra said in a low voice that echoed through a vision of a long ancient funeral procession. Chione heard but could not acknowledge, having been pulled into the historical moment in ways the others couldn't fathom.
“Maybe she didn't sleep well,” Clifford said. “How come you're not laid out on a bench somewhere, Aaron?”
Chione pushed their laughter out of her mind. Something more important enticed. The scene opened out as if she had only to open her eyes.
Egyptian priests and priestesses performing a forbidden ritual, speaking in the old tongue. She was being cleansed, body shaved and adorned with only an insubstantial skirt and an amulet to dangle between her bare breasts; her desiring to chant and sway and undulate with other priestesses till elevated to an ecstatic frenzy, then to be handed over to Almighty Pharaoh; the beat of the drums, the music, driving her to wantonness.
Clifford's familiar laughter filtered into her altered state. She tried to block out the noise behind her and to concentrate on the scene that had electrified her senses. Other words were coming now, words from ancient times, intertwined with voices of the present.
“You two are missing the point,” Aaron said softly.
Begging for silence, Chione waved a limp hand in the air without looking back.
“Point is, she likes those dreams,” Clifford said.
“She's not sleeping now,” Kendra said.
“Sure she is. Just look at her.”
I'm not sleeping! she wanted to call out. Be quiet and learn something!
“Come closer,” Aaron said, whispering to the others. “I hope she doesn't hate me for this.”
Don't do this, Aaron, she wanted to say, aware of them standing behind and peering around her. But her trance was too deep, too wondrous to be broken. She would have to deal with them later. She closed her eyes to focus more deeply and ran a finger over the amulet.
“She's not sleeping,” Clifford said softly. “She's studying an artifact.”
She tried to repeat the words she heard. “Wear you… box… break… belly….”
“Listen,” Kendra said, cautioning softly from behind.
Chione repeated the words, added some, and omitted others. She concentrated, finally getting the whole message. Suddenly, she opened her eyes, picked up a pencil and scribbled the spell over Aaron's crosshatched doodling. Not until she finished did she look around, finding Aaron, Kendra and Clifford standing behind in bewilderment. Her face flushed hot. She glared at Aaron. “How could you?” she asked through clenched teeth.
“Eavesdrop?” Clifford asked. “This is our workspace too.” He smiled that toothy grin that always dissipated tension.
“You don't understand what's happening,” Chione said.
“We're trying,” Kendra said.
“But you don't believe.”
“Believe us, Chione,” Clifford said. “We're trying.”
Chione let out a long sigh. She felt frustrated, exposed and slowly looked at each of them. “Not at all do I want to hear ridicule or innocent jokes,” she said. “If only one of you could be lucky enough to experience what I do, until then, not another word.”
“Nobody doubts you, Chione,” Aaron said, picking up the inventory sheet and reading.
Wear you this box
Break not the seal
till in your belly
the child you feel
Kendra carefully picked up the tiny amulet and turned it over in her palm. “Something has long ago broken off this little box,” she said. “So where did you read that spell?”
“Do you see any glyphs?” Chione asked.
“Only the carving of a lotus blossom,” Kendra said. “So where'd the words come from?”
If they could not yet figure that out, they did not need to know.
They worked in silence the rest of the day. Even Clifford, who always had a punch line, stared off in space
occasionally and sometimes shook his head. Once, Chione heard him say, “Just when I thought I had life nailed….”
All through the evening meal and afterward, Chione watched Kendra hover close to Aaron. Then Bebe said quietly, “See what I told you? Now that Royce is gone, Kendra will attach herself to him.”
“I don't care,” Chione said. “I guess Kendra's the type to need a man around.” Yet she wondered if Kendra would be so bold as to carry the friendship farther, and would a pining Aaron suddenly find Kendra irresistible? A lump came up in her throat.
16
Chione had showered, as she always did before evening meditation. She looked forward to receiving more information or images. However, her heightened sense of apprehension unnerved her. Inside the Pillared Hall, she approached Aaron as he removed his boots. The only lighting came from their flashlights. “I'm feeling sort of unsettled this evening,” she said. “Can we sit together?”
He looked surprised that she had asked. “What's put you on edge?”
“The furniture, the ancient wood,” she said, glancing at a few remaining pieces. “Can you hear their noises?”
“They're breathing again.”
“Just like in Tut's tomb.”
“Or any tomb,” he said. “After all the years being in dead space, then to be surrounded with fresh air, the wood makes those sighing noises.”
“As it begins to deteriorate.”
“All the more reason for us to get these pieces to the Madu for treatment,” he said.
Chione deeply experienced every moment, the breathing of the tomb, her own heightened senses, and new feelings on top of the ones that clamored back and forth between her and Aaron. She was caught between resisting him and the recognition that his presence made a difference in her inner life. Irresistibly drawn to one another, despite her rejection of him, neither had been able to let go. It was time she faced it. In fact, being in Egypt seemed to make them more attracted to one another. Suddenly she regretted having been the harbinger of change that forced him to put his life on hold. “So, you want to sit?” she asked again as she rolled out her mats.
“You can do this by yourself,” he said. “You don't need anyone else.”
“But I do!”
“Don't be so emphatic,” he said. “It's not like you to manipulate.” She had never seen him in dim light wearing a sarcastic expression. It was grotesque and she didn't like it.
“Is that what you think I'm doing?” Her vicious tone sliced the stillness and surprised her too. “I just thought… oh, never—”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Aaron said, coming to her side. His expression had softened. “You report vivid scenes which have nothing to do with me. Why join together now?”
Chione looked away. “It's your decision.”
“What is it, Chione? Why can't you look at me?”
“Make up your mind,” she said, still avoiding him. She did not need another unsettling confrontation.
“Wait a minute,” he said. “You're hiding something.”
“You're imagining—”
He grabbed her arm. “How many times have I actually been part of what you've received about Egypt and this tomb?”
She pulled away quickly. “Don't be so presumptive.” Their voices sounded hollow as the sounds bounced off the walls.
“I get it,” Aaron said, lowering his voice. “You only received bits and pieces before we arrived here. Solid bits and pieces, but never anything as complete as what you got the other night when we were together.”
“Your ego is puffed.”
“No ego here,” he said. “We had a good thing going, you and me. You might kid yourself into turning off your feelings, but deep down inside, you know the truth.”
“I'm a realist, Aaron,” she said, looking into the deep shadows over his eyes and enunciating the words.
“Then face it. At least now, we've shared a vision so similar—”
“Don't make that much of it.”
“Why haven't you disclosed any more of your dreams?” he asked, not letting up. “The ones I know you're having.”
“When I have something worth telling,” she said, hiding the truth. “How would you know about my dreams?”
“Because I'm dreaming again. We used to—”
“Share similar dreams,” she said quietly. “So what are you withholding?” She really was curious to know what his dreams contained and if they, in fact, still held similar content. In the very least, why had hers become so sensual that she did not dare disclose them?
“Okay, if you want to hear. The other night, while you were sitting on your mat,” he said. “I went to sit on the floor in front of you, right where you say Pharaoh came to you.” His tone said he still questioned what had happened. “Later, I had a vision that I was talking to a young woman who sat right there.” He pointed rigidly to King Tut and Tauret's chair.
She stared at him knowing a revealing series of expressions transited her face. Finally, she said, “You wouldn't lie, would you?”
He sighed hard, quickly. “Chione…?”
“Okay, your being here has helped,” she said. “Is that what you want to hear?”
“Only if it's true.”
“Then you'll sit with me?”
He smiled. She gestured to her mat, feeling deeply satisfied, yet still wondering what his casual dreams contained. Sitting cross-legged, just as she began to get comfortable, she heard the familiar sounds again and grabbed quickly for his arm. “Did you hear that?”
“Nothing,” he said, looking about.
“T-That was strange,” she said. “The whimpering… it had a—a ring of desperation!”
He leaned toward her, straining to see in the dim light. “Let's just be quiet.”
Again she heard the sounds as her hair bristled. “Something's wrong,” she said, scooting closer to him.
“You're frightened?” he asked, reaching for her.
“I can't believe you're not hearing this,” she said as she clutched his hands, a gesture to help both stay connected to the present. Something about his hands felt reassuring.
“Wow!” he said at the moment she touched him. His hands tightened around hers. They sat mentally circling energy back and forth between them. What she perceived, he received. Him not hearing the sounds confirmed that they came from another realm. But he needed to hear them too.
The whimpering was again faint and choked, like someone trying not to cry but unable to keep from it. Then as before, the sounds ended abruptly. Chione felt herself crumple over onto the mat. She cradled her stomach and lost track of Aaron.
She half roused some time later to find herself lying beside him. Without thinking, she reached and quite naturally rolled into his arms. “Kheperu,” she said softly, pressing her body against his. Surrendering to the moment, their lips touched. They kissed a lovers' first kiss, voracious and demanding.
“Tauret,” he said, rasping, holding her close. His breathing had quickened.
His hands moved over her body. “Kheperu,” she said again. The sound of her own voice saying Kheperu shocked her back to reality. She pushed away and stood quickly. “Not like this,” she said, backing up a few paces into the dark. Then he roused. “What happened to us?” she asked.
“Must have been tired,” he said, sitting up and passing a hand across his face. He must have thought he fell asleep.
“I had another dream,” she said, still sensuously stirred. “Did you?”
“No,” he said nonchalantly as he stretched. “Why are you standing over there?”
She came to the mat and dropped onto her knees but kept her distance. “Are you interested in my dream?”
“Tell me tomorrow.”
“I might forget,” she said, trying to elicit his interest.
“You, forget? That's laughable.” After all his insistence that they share, now he wasn't even curious?
“Listen, Aaron,” she said. “This was a strange dream.”
“
I'm sure it was.”
“I'm serious.”
“Okay,” he said, giving in. “Tell me.”
“Tauret came toward me from the couch.” Chione picked up her flashlight and pointed the beam toward the north wall and saw nothing.
Aaron looked and shrugged when he, too, saw nothing. “That's strange?”
“No, no, she merged into me,” Chione said. “I became Tauret!”
“So?” he asked. “It was a dream, wasn't it?”
“A fragment, maybe,” she said. “Actually, I spoke to Pharaoh again, sort of.”
“What do you mean, sort of?” he asked. “Did you or didn't you?”
“We were close,” she said. “You know.”
“You dreamed you were getting it on with Pharaoh?” he asked. He could not hide his broad smile. His great teeth showed in the dim light. “Now that's fantasy manifesting, don't you think?”
“Oh, why should I share with you if you're only going to joke.”
“I'm applying what you told me, that some dreams are only dreams.”
“This was more than a dream,” she said, this time wishing he would listen. “We were about to make….” She stopped short of full disclosure. Suddenly Chione remembered how Aaron had rolled against her. She looked at him curiously. Surely he had the same dream. That could produce such a reaction. “You called me Tauret.”
He looked quickly to the floor and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don't know what to say about that,” he said. “That still doesn't make it a premonition.”
“Some day,” she said, cautioning. “Something's going to appear in your mind and you won't know how to deal with it.”
“Well, thanks for the half-compliment,” he said. “At least you still believe my mind has capabilities.”
17
“You'll never guess what I found,” Bebe said, not waiting till Chione invited her to enter. As she entered, a rush of delicate Egyptian scent floated in with her. She carried something in her hands and a small woven bag. Whatever it was must have been special to occupy her time. By this late hour in the evening, Bebe would have been showered and wearing some sort of Egyptian robe which was more comfortable for her to work in while sitting at her computer late at night. And what was that scent she wore now? She was overly excited and that was not like her.