Lilith scowled at She-Aba, then looked Tau in the eye, and said, “Um, I was wondering if Mica was still—” Her mind searched for the proper words “—upset with me?”
Tau smirked. He uncrossed his arms, opened his fist, and handed Lilith her life seal.
She took it politely, still waiting on Tau’s answer.
“Aren’t you going to wear it so you don’t lose it again?” He sounded irritated.
Her brows arched. She swiftly guided her life seal over her head and let it drop under her gown to rest on her chest. It felt surprisingly light. “There. Satisfied?”
“Don’t you want to know where I found it?” Tau asked.
No. Not really. Lilith pursed her lips. “Okay, where did I leave it?”
“It was in the fountain by the market. My younger brother, Seth, found it. I immediately knew it was yours and raced over here before you suffered the wrath of Ra.”
Lilith scratched her chin. “Mmm, there must be a hole in my satchel. Surely Ra wouldn’t be mad at me for that.”
She-Aba gasped. “A hole in your satchel? The satchel I made for you? Not possible. I use only the finest threads to create my masterpieces! There must be some mistake.”
“There are no mistakes, no accidents!” Tau shouted, his voice echoing down the hall. “You forget that you use threads Ra created. Perhaps our god is teaching you a lesson. You must learn that only Ra creates perfection, and lowly humans are here to serve.”
In five long steps, She-Aba was face-to-face with Tau. Her shoes gave her some advantage, but her eyes did all the talking as they burned into Tau. “You forget I was born here, so don’t treat me like a lowly Atch—” She stopped herself, and sheepishly glanced at Lilith. “Um, what I mean is…is—”
“No, do go on, She-Aba,” Lilith cut in. She glared at her. “Explain what you mean.”
“I…I didn’t intend to use that word, it…it was an accident,” She-Aba stammered.
“There are no accidents!” Lilith and Tau yelled in unison.
Knock, knock, knock. “Hello. Lilith? Tau?”
Lilith straightened. Oh-my-Poseidon, That sounds like—
“Hello, Mica,” Tau answered, breaking Lilith’s thoughts.
She-Aba let out her breath. “Thank you, Ra,” she muttered.
“Oh, um, h-hello, Mica,” Lilith replied, tripping over her words. “Won’t you come in?”
There was a moment of silence. “I will if you open the door for me,” he replied.
“O-Of course, sorry, silly me.” Lilith reached for the door. Her legs trembled.
As soon as the door swung open, Lilith could smell him. Fragrant sandalwood mixed with a hint of jasmine and spice. She leaned against the door drinking him in. Mica was dressed in his initiate’s pale green robe, matching pants and sash, and headband, which held his sun-hued hair perfectly in place. Like Tau, he displayed his life seal on a leather thong around his neck. His snake charmer’s flute was stuffed in the side of his sash. He had a crafted leather satchel etched with a red serpent hanging over one of his shoulders and carried a large linen sack in one hand. Lilith swore she saw it move.
“May I come in, Lilith?” Mica asked cautiously.
Jolted back, Lilith nodded. “Yes…yes of course.”
He offered her a half-smile and walked in.
“I thought I was to meet you back at the Temple of Sacrifice?” Tau asked. “Was there success with the human-animal hybrid? Did the surgeon remove the accessory?”
She-Aba perked up. “Accessory? Did something go wrong with someone’s wardrobe? I can help with that, you know.”
Tau rolled his eyes. “Not that kind of accessory, fire-head. I’m talking about an animal accessory—a deformity, like a wing or a claw.”
“A wing or a claw?” Lilith asked. “What exactly do they do in the Temple of Sacrifice?”
Tau looked at She-Aba, then back at Mica, who was scowling at him. He shrunk, then shrugged. “Don’t…don’t you know?”
“Know what? I thought the Temple of Sacrifice was nothing more than a place of healing. Are you telling me that it’s not?”
Tau started to open his mouth. “It is,” Mica said, cutting him off. “It’s also a sacred place that was built to help the human-animal hybrids adapt to a more…human existence. The patient must make a sacrifice through the removal of their animal part, like Tau suggested, a wing or a claw, if they are to be accepted as humans. The process is painful and many surgeries are required, but the end result connects them back to their humanness.”
“That…that sounds like torture,” Lilith said, blinking.
Mica frowned. “Is it not torture to not know who you are? These poor victims are so lost in themselves that they do not know where they belong, or what their purpose is.”
Lilith’s shoulders slumped. What Mica said made sense. But still…
Mica cleared his throat. “There is an urgent matter that requires your father’s attention. Is he available for an audience?”
“He’s busy,” She-Aba blurted. Then she crept closer. “He’s in the presence of the Children of the Law of One.” She brought a finger to her glossy lips.
“I wouldn’t normally bother Segund, but Istulo sent me to deliver this to him.” Mica patted the leather bag hanging over his shoulder.
Lilith reached out to grab the satchel’s strap. “I’ll take it to my father, Mica. I know the proper procedure to rouse him from a deep trance.”
Mica snatched her hand in mid-air. Then he smiled fully. His thumb caressed the inside of her wrist. “I’m under strict orders by the high priestess herself, Lilith. Only I may hand this over to Segund. I’m sorry, I trust you, but it would violate my vows as an initiate.”
Lilith didn’t hear a word Mica just said. Her whole body was singing as he continued to stroke her wrist.
“Are you okay, Lilith?” She-Aba asked. “You’re turning redder than my hair.”
“And that’s not good in the gods’ eyes,” Tau added.
“Huh? Oh, um, I guess I’m still getting used to the climate here.” Lilith withdrew her hand from Mica to fan her face. Then the linen bag in his hand moved.
She stepped back and pointed at the bag. “What’s in there?”
Mica laughed. “My cobra. He’s been restless lately, so I thought I’d ask one of the animal healers to check him over when I return to the Temple of Sacrifice.”
“Maybe he ate a bad rat,” Tau said, scratching his nose.
“Or maybe he listened to your flute playing too many times,” Mica replied with a chuckle. He looked back at Lilith and met her eyes. “I could leave Kheti with you if you like. I will only be a moment with your father. One of the first lessons we’re taught as initiates is to gently awake someone in meditation.”
Lilith gulped, melting into his gaze. Her legs started to shake again.
“I’ll watch Kheti, Mica.” Tau held out his hand.
Mica slapped it away. “No way, you’ll probably make him sick!”
“I agree. Tau makes me sick too.” She-Aba broke out in laughter.
Lilith giggled, then composed herself and said, “I don’t suppose it would do any harm to interrupt Father briefly. But please, remember that you’ll be in the presence of the Children of the Law of One. Respect is a priority.”
Mica nodded, then handed the linen sack containing Kheti to her. Lilith froze. She stared at the bag, then looked at Mica. “Um, no, you take that thing with you, Mica.”
His fair brows rose. “You sure?”
She nodded vehemently. Oh, yes, I’m sure. Lilith pointed toward the hallway past the deep purple curtains. “Father is at the end of the corridor, in the Golden Serpent room.”
“I won’t be long,” Mica said, then winked at her. “And, just
so you know, I think my life seal is dead wrong.”
“Mine too!” She-Aba snapped her fingers. “See, Lilith, I told you something’s not right with life seals lately.”
“Well, mine’s fine,” Tau said indignantly, patting his life seal resting on his chest.
Mica smiled one last time before he strode down the hallway lit with crystal clusters.
Lilith watched him leave, twisting at her coiled snake bracelet. Suddenly, she felt a sharp twinge in her belly.
“Stop spraying me, She-Aba,” Tau yelled.
“You want to attract a suitor, don’t you, Tau? You’ll never attract one smelling like that,” she said, stuffing the small vial of perfume back into her bag.
“Smelling like what?” He fanned the air.
She-Aba smirked. “Beetle dung.”
A crystal-shattering scream spiraled down the hallway.
“Father?” Lilith shouted. No response. “Mica?” There was still no response.
Tau darted down the hall first. “Do you two need an invitation?” he yelled over his shoulder.
Lilith followed Tau, her mind going in circles.
“Slow down, I can’t run very well in these shoes,” She-Abe shouted after them.
Skidding to a stop, Lilith almost banged into Tau, now stationed at the threshold of the Golden Serpent room. Her mouth fell open. Mica was gone, disappeared. His cobra, Kheti, was loose. It hovered over her father, who had collapsed on the smooth, shiny floor behind his meditation pillow. She could make out two small red streams running down the back of his hand. The seventh Arch of Atlantis hummed a queasy vibration, as if something had disturbed its frequency.
Lilith glanced up at the arch, and her eyes widened. The crystal trident her father used to activate the link between the Children of the Law of One and himself had vanished from the keystone of the arch. The etched trident outline the length of her hand now lay barren and empty, as if it had lost its soul mate. Streams of golden light haphazardly shot out of the archway, creating a chaotic cosmic light show.
Her stomach twisted as if one hundred baby snakes had hatched inside it. Cobra venom was more powerful than a white crawler’s poison. She knew that, and by the look of Tau’s ashen face, he knew that too. Her father lay dying before her. Mica was nowhere to be seen. And the thing she dreaded the most was only five strides away.
She-Aba shrieked, making Lilith and Tau jump.
The cobra turned and hissed. It made itself taller, flared out its hood, and started to advance on Lilith, Tau, and She-Aba as they stood in the doorway.
5
Time Flows Through Us
“Move out of the way, I’ve got this,” She-Aba said, pulling off her satchel. She started swinging it.
“What are you doing, fire-head!” Tau screamed. “That…that’s a cobra!”
“You see a snake. I see a new pair of shoes,” she replied.
The cobra reared then struck, but not before She-Aba whacked it across the head, sending the snake flying across the floor.
Lilith saw her opportunity and sprinted to her father’s side. She kneeled and put her ear to his heart. Still beating, thank Poseidon. She grabbed the wide meditation pillow and shoved it under her father’s head. The record keeper lying on the pillow was flung across the floor and landed in front of the glowing archway. Then she looked around for something to wrap around his hand to cut off the poison coursing through his body. She felt his body jerk and, out of the corner of her eye, saw the belt She-Aba had dressed him with being yanked away. Fighting tears, Lilith looked up.
Tau now had the belt in his hands. He wrapped one end around his hand, turned, and whistled at the dazed cobra. “Sorry, Kheti, you leave me no choice.”
Tau stepped forward and cracked the belt like a whip. But instead of hitting the cobra in the head, it returned with a smack to his nose. Blood spurted everywhere. Tau released the belt, took a few strides back until he smacked into the arch, and crumbled to the floor. He cupped his nose.
She-Aba clicked her tongue. “If you want a job done right, give it to a girl.”
She lunged for the belt and lashed out at the cobra, using the heavier end as leverage. One of the spiked metal disks struck the snake’s right eye. The serpent hissed before hitting the floor. She-Aba didn’t give it time to recover. She rushed over and, with the heel of her shoe, crushed the cobra’s skull. Its tail gyrated until there was no life left and went limp.
The Arch of Atlantis ceased showering the room with its golden lights and began to draw the light back through the archway. The humming dropped in resonance to a sickly sound, as if something inside of it was preparing to die.
“What has happened?” an old voice wheezed from the doorway.
“Istulo!” Lilith shouted. “Please, come and heal my father! He’s been bitten by Mica’s cobra!”
The high priestess gasped. She ambled over as fast as she could, trying not to get her feet caught up in her white robe, and bent down over Segund. Lilith heard her knees crackle like dry papyrus. Istulo glanced at Tau slouched on the floor coddling his face. “Is he bitten as well?”
“Tau will be fine.” She-Aba crouched next to Lilith. “Unless you think belts are poisonous.”
Istulo frowned, then examined Segund’s hand. She grunted. “I trusted Mica. I see the gods have tested me, and I have failed.”
“Why would Mica do this?” Lilith asked, aware of the sharp pains in her throat.
“He seeks revenge,” Istulo replied. “His heart is still in darkness.”
“Revenge?” Tau said through his hands, sounding muffled. “On whom?”
“On those of his past, and of Atlantis’s past. He hates the Sons of Belial, who killed his parents, and will do whatever it takes to change his future.”
Before Lilith could ask Istulo what she meant, Istulo wheezed and said, “This is bad. She-Aba, go get me a bowl of water, some linens, and the dead cobra.”
She-Aba arched her perfectly plucked red brows. “The dead cobra?”
“I need to mix a potion using the cobra’s sacrifice. Pray Ra has seen to it that I have what I need in my pouch.”
Tears now streamed down Lilith’s face. “I…I will.”
“Me too, we’re in this together.” She-Aba squeezed Lilith’s shoulder before she left to do Istulo’s bidding.
Tau groaned. “I don’t care what She-Aba says, that belt bit me. Hey, what is this?” He pointed at the small book on a tile in front of him.
Lilith took her eyes off her father for a moment. “Father’s record keeper. He uses it to scribe the messages from the Children of the Law of One.”
“Your father is a scribe?” Tau asked, wiping blood from his nose. He reached for the record keeper.
“He’s a lot of things, Tau. Right now, he’s just my father.”
Istulo started to chant. She retrieved a small, crystal mortar from her pouch, opened the dead cobra’s jaws, and squeezed the inside of its mouth near the fangs. Droplets of a yellow liquid dripped into the mortar. Continuing to chant, her gravelly voice grated against Lilith’s ears, and Lilith winced. She didn’t know what was worse—Istulo’s chanting or the Arch of Atlantis’s discordant droning. Loud, scraping footsteps announced She-Aba’s return. Her snakeskin satchel was back over one shoulder while the other shoulder was draped in white linens. In both hands, she carried a large ceramic bowl.
“Here.” She-Aba placed the bowl down by Istulo.
Segund roused. “L-Lilith,” he muttered.
“I’m here, Father. So is Istulo. She’ll heal you. Stay with me.”
His mouth opened like a naked baby bird. “M-Mica w-went th-through arch wh-while it w-was o-opened t-to our p-past. H-He t-took tri-dent. Need…it.”
“Never mind Mica, Father, you need me.”
“N-No. T-T-Time f-flows—” he attempted to point at Lilith, then dropped his hand “—th-through…us. Through…you. K-Keep t-time s-safe. F-Find M-Mica. B-Bring home.”
“What’s your father saying, Lilith?” She-Aba asked, ripping strips of linen for Istulo. She dipped one strip into the water, rolled it up, and placed it on Segund’s beading forehead.
“I’m not sure. Time flows through us. Through me. Keep time safe. He wants me to find Mica and bring him home. It doesn’t make any sense.” Lilith stroked her father’s soft beard.
Then, as if given an awakening jolt, the Arch of Atlantis started to hum louder again, outdoing Istulo’s chants. A beam of golden light, appearing in the form of a serpent’s head, shot out of the archway. It surrounded Tau, who was kneeling with his head down, looking into the open record keeper. Stunned, he let out a visceral gasp, like his insides were being torn out. His brown eyes grew big, and as if being commanded by the serpent light, he pulled a long, thin piece of crystal out of the spine of the record keeper and started to scribe inside it.
Istulo continued to chant, choosing to focus on healing Segund. Lilith was torn between the two spectacles manifesting before her—Tau, enwrapped in a golden serpent-like light, and Istulo, still squeezing liquid from the lifeless cobra. Then, as if on cue, Isulo dropped the cobra, added a dash of white powder to the liquid in the mortar, and spooned in a small amount of water from the bowl with her cupped palm.
Suddenly, Tau was released from the serpent light. He fell forward before catching himself. Shaken, he stood up, wobbled, and glanced into the record keeper.
“Tau? Are you hurt?” Lilith asked.
He shook his head. “I’m fine. But it seems I’ve scribed into your father’s record keeper, and I don’t remember doing it.”
“What’s it say, Tau?” She-Aba asked, standing. She moved to peer over his shoulder. “Hmm, looks like a jumble of beetle footprints to me.”
Tau scowled. “That’s because girls don’t know how to scribe properly.”
Legend of the Timekeepers Page 5
