Heir of Ra (Blood of Ra Book One)
Page 22
Alyssa absentmindedly stroked her right palm, feeling the faint scar from the knife wound beneath her fingers. “Donating my blood to prevent a pandemic was one thing, Kamal. But I’m not sure I want to be a genetic guinea pig.”
“I suppose there is no convincing you otherwise, is there?” Kamal asked.
“I don’t think it’s what he would have wanted.”
Paul cleared his throat to break the sudden silence. “So, what’s going to happen to all those crackpots?”
“All known members linked to the Society are being investigated for any illegal activities,” Kamal replied. “The problem is, there may be dozens of others we don’t know about. The manor house was purchased in the early nineteen hundreds by a foundation based in Zurich. It has been seized pending further investigation.”
Alyssa shook her head. “I still can’t believe Ed Wallace—William Drake—whatever he wants to call himself…”
“I should have seen it,” Kade said.
“Why didn’t he just take the damn thing in the tunnel, when he had a chance?” Paul cut in.
“He knew the minister and his council were watching our every move,” Kade replied. “I suppose he needed a diversion to keep them out… until he got what he wanted.”
“But faking his own death?” Paul shook his head.
Kade considered that for several moments. “Once the council got around to checking the footage and discovered that an artifact disappeared from the site, who do you think would be their prime suspect? Killing off the prime suspect was—an elegant solution. I’ll give him that.”
Alyssa scoffed. “Speaking of elegant, what about Renley?”
“On his way back to England,” Kamal replied. “No charges are being brought up against him in exchange for a large donation to the Ministry of Antiquities’s new research institute.”
He faced Kade with a mischievous grin. “I figured this is as good a time as any to break the news to you. The minister himself has highly recommended you to be the founding director of the new institute. I figured that should give you an incentive to get out of the hospital and on your feet as soon as you can.”
Kade swallowed. “Hmmm… that’s certainly unexpected.” He raised an eyebrow. “So, does that mean I’ll get to be chauffeured around in a fancy white Benz?”
“Sure does.”
“And get to spend the rest of my time pushing papers?” He shook his head. “I don’t think so, Kamal. I’ll leave that job to the minister and you.”
“Well, it’s funny you should say that,” Kamal replied, with a smirk. “I pretty much told him that would be your answer. I’m afraid he insisted. He said that you would, of course, be expected to spend at least half your time doing field work. The principal mission of the new institute, to research the origin of the Hall of Records, would fall under your direct supervision. And to make the offer more attractive to you, you will also have unrestricted access to the hall and all the fiscal and administrative support—”
Kade raised his hand in mock defeat. “All right, all right,” he said. “You had me at ‘research the origin of the hall’. As long as I don’t turn into the bureaucrat you’ve become…”
Kamal laughed and stepped to the door. He turned to Alyssa and Paul. “I’ll wait for you two in the car.”
Kade faced Alyssa. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay in Cairo longer?”
Alyssa shook her head. “I have to get away for a while. Clear my head.” She smirked. “Besides, somebody has to pick up the pieces in Peru and finish the Chumbivilcas job you left behind.”
Kade’s expression darkened, but he nodded. Paul approached the bed and the men shook hands.
“Have a safe trip back to London,” Kade said, “and thank you—for everything you’ve done.” He pulled Paul toward him. “Anytime you’re sick of the WHO, we’ll have a job waiting for you.”
Paul smiled and nodded. Alyssa stepped up to the bed and gave her dad a long hug. She took his hand in hers.
“Try to get some rest. You may look better, but you’ve been through Hell.” She leaned down again and kissed him softly on his cheek. “We all have.”
Alyssa didn’t notice the throngs of passengers squeezing past her and Paul. She tried to ignore her racing pulse and the tightness welling in her throat as they stood wordlessly next to her departure gate in the Cairo airport.
“Got a call from Clay this morning,” Paul said, breaking the silence. “Guess who just became the youngest person to be awarded the WHO fellowship in bioinformatics? Apparently, they were so impressed with what he did that they chose to turn a blind eye to him bending some rules… and his father’s car.”
“That’s so wonderful!” Alyssa smiled, but the smile was sad and distracted.
Paul gazed at her with troubled eyes. “You sure about this?” he asked, concern rising in his face.
“I have to know.”
“How many of you are left, do you suppose?”
“I don’t know, but right now the Society is our best lead. Jake thinks he dug up a good place for me to start.” Alyssa looked down at his arm in the sling and gently brought her fingers to it.
“Paul, I will never be able to—”
“I know,” he said.
She studied his face. It seemed so much older than when they met. Was it only a week ago? She reached out and touched his other hand and their fingers intertwined without thinking. Her stomach fluttered at the warmth of his skin against hers, and their gazes locked as they faced each other, unsure, neither of them confident enough to initiate the kiss. Slowly, Alyssa leaned in and moved her lips toward his.
“This will serve as the final boarding call for Swissair flight 2012 with non-stop service to Zurich, Switzerland.”
She flinched at the overhead announcement and pulled back with a sigh. Paul’s face was a mirror of the disappointment she felt in the pit of her stomach. She inhaled deeply and smiled then embraced him.
He stood for a moment, arms at his sides, before he wrapped his uninjured arm around her waist and pulled her close, holding her tight. The feel of his body pressed against hers soothed Alyssa more than she had expected. She squeezed him back, not wanting to let go.
“Miss?” the voice of the gate attendant brought her back. “We are about to close the gate.”
Alyssa reluctantly broke the embrace. “I’d better go. I’m done pounding at closed gates.” She turned and handed her boarding pass to the agent then stepped toward the jetway door.
“Alyssa!” Paul called after her.
She turned in the doorway.
“So, what’s the plan? How are you going to pick up the trail?”
She stared at him for several moments, contemplating the question. A slow, wicked smile spread across her lips.
“Don’t you fret. I have seen into the mind of an Egyptian god,” she replied, her eyes sparkling for the first time in days. “I’ll think of something.”
Epilogue
The woman stood up and approached the man kneeling on the floor in front of her. She squeezed the thin scepter hard in her hand, ignoring the dread in the man’s eyes as she slowly removed the hood of her robe.
“Your orders for Peru were clear,” she said in an icy voice. “The girl was not to be harmed.”
“It… it was an accident,” the man stammered. “I didn’t mean to hurt her… The Rathadi—”
The scepter came down on his head, snapping it back. The man sank to the ground.
The woman ignored the pool of blood forming around the man as she watched him, yellow irises burning into his lifeless body.
Acknowledgments
This book would not have been possible without the remarkable support of countless individuals. I owe my respect, gratitude, and admiration to all of you:
First and foremost, Heather, for having lived through every iteration of the manuscript and without whose brilliant intellect this work would have been vastly inferior.
My amazing daughter, Sar
ah, whose intuition, boldness, and fresh perspective helped shaped every aspect of this work.
Michael Mailer, whose feedback on the screen adaptation provided crucial insights into the story.
My stellar editors, Carol Woods and Philip Athans, for their sharp eyes and astute criticism.
Irene Kraas for her wisdom and guidance during the preparation of the manuscript.
Kornelio Rath and Torsten Weine for endless hours of D&D that helped shape my imagination decades ago.
Reiner Holdhoff for being a real-life version of Robin Williams’s character in “Dead Poets Society” and for inspiring his students to never fear to look at the world from a different perspective.
Dr. Zahi Hawass for sparking the love for archaeology and Egyptology in generations of people.
The students at Hampton Roads Academy, Abby B., Avery C., Breanna W., Cerese L., Kaila M., Lexie A., Meghan C., Misha Z., Sarah T., as well as Dominique Adair, Ali Baedke, Scott George, Patti Grayson, Kim Hatton, Alex Marshall, Thomas Marshall, Gene Tracy, and Russ Warnick for taking time to read the early editions and providing honest critiques.
To the person that I am undoubtedly forgetting, my deepest apologies and profound gratitude.
And, finally, Vera, whose optimism, tireless drive, love, and unwavering support made this book possible.
Author’s Note
When I decided to pursue my dream of writing a book, I set out to create a novel that compelled book lovers to pick it up and start reading it. As Heir of Ra grew into existence, I realized that it was far more difficult to write a book that readers choose to finish, given the myriad of alternatives to reading. We’re both here, so—unless you’re one of those readers who likes to start at the end—congratulations to both of us!
I hope reading Heir of Ra was as enjoyable for you as building the world was for me. This book was inspired by countless works of fiction. Among all of them, one holds a special place: Michael Ende’s Neverending Story. When I read it as a ten-year old boy who had just arrived in a strange, new country, I realized there was something magical about reading a book that told a story within a story. If the dream realm of Fantastica could become real for the book-loving Bastian, perhaps there was an enchanted world waiting for each of us. Decades later, sharing Alyssa’s journey into Horus’s mind with you represents my very own dream-come-true. Thank you for helping me find my Fantastica.
Pursue your dreams and know no fear.
- M. Sasinowski
P.S. If you enjoyed Heir of Ra, please consider taking a few minutes to leave a review or recommend it to a friend. These reviews and recommendations are incredibly valuable for new authors and allow us to continue sharing our worlds with you. Thank you for your support.
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www.heirofra.com
About the Author
From the Point of View of his 15-year-old Daughter (that’s me! :)
Some say that M. Sasinowski writes until 4 am… fueled by a single cup of decaf coffee. Others say this Polish-born American hyper-nerd absorbs energy from late-night TV space shows. No matter the truth… he’s my dad. He will never be cool.
He loves archaeology, Star Wars/Trek, martial arts (especially women who kick butt), and impromptu father/daughter (that’s me! :) science debates or music jam-sessions.
He’s kind of smart, I suppose (he has a physics PhD, and an MD, or whatever) and likes to build computers for fun.
His teenage daughter (that’s me! :) is occasionally a handful to deal with and also served as the inspiration for the main character in his debut young adult novel Heir of Ra.
You may recognize him from his glorious hair or his tendency to do the “vacuum cleaner” dance to embarrass his daughter (that’s me… :(.
If you ever see this man, approach with care and greet him in a language he understands, like in Klingon or, better yet, in Wookie.
Guurrghghgh!