The Ways of Eternity

by D.A. Dean

Chapter 1: The Lights

  All the pretty, twinkly lights. Horus stretched out his hands. They were like freshly-risen stars, these lights, tinged with blue, sparking yellow, flashing hints of red. Just in front, beside, and behind him, tiny lights continued to burst and stream into the blackness. They shimmered their greetings and moved deeper into the night to wink and glow.

  The splendor of blackness, suffused with possibility, the glorious lights, imbued with promise...yes, this must be home. Surely, he didn't belong on the island, the thin layers of its fragile air predictable and tasteless, the shallowness of its dull contours stagnant and stultifying, the confinement of its boundaries dreary and dreamless.

  The lights didn't expect him to spend his time on lessons and chores. They wanted to play, their games far more entertaining than Teo's. The lights didn't speak of the dangers that awaited. They sang, their melodies far more nuanced than Nalia's. The lights didn't demand he understand their absence. They swirled near, their embraces far more loving than Isis'.

  Why had he ever left the lights?

  He must have had a reason...but he couldn't remember.

  If he could just catch one of the sparkles, draw it back to him, swallow and merge it with himself, maybe he could remain here, buoyed forever.

  Again, he swung out his hands. The lights danced back, just out of reach. Had Nalia ordered them away? Horus had been naughty during supper. Or maybe Teo was scolding them. He was cross so often lately.

  Or was Seht coming, chasing them away?

  At the thought of his father's murderer, Horus' heartbeat sped. "Lights, come back," he pleaded.

  A shadow, expanding, crept closer. The lights skittered away, became pinpoints, and faded. Shivering, he was left to face the darkness alone.

  A reed scratched his face, and Horus awoke, startled, at the edge of the island's marsh.

  He'd fallen asleep wedged between Nalia and Teo. How had he gotten here? Where were they? Breathing hard, Horus leapt up and then forced himself to still. Peering around the waving reeds, he searched quickly through the blackness to the cleared circle that surrounded the hut. The hut's door was open, knocking back against the bamboo wall. There was no fire.

  His governess wasn't there.

  He turned to scan the moon-dappled shore and the water ebbing and flowing against it.

  Where was his protector?

  Had he been abandoned? Had Nalia and Teo been found? The sound of his heart filled his ears. He shuddered and crawled into the reeds to hide. Sinking up to his forearms and thighs in the mucky soil, he gasped against the cold of the shallow night-blackened water.

  Feeling someone's gaze, he spun to the left then right. There was no one.

  From above, a heron cried out. A warning? From far behind him came a slight splash. There followed another, nearer. The reeds parted narrowly. There was no breeze. Was he being tracked? He crouched lower. He realized he was whimpering and stopped.

  Leaning forward, he strained to hear, his breath coming in ragged bursts, his legs twitching. The sounds drew closer—from behind, ahead. Was he surrounded? He suppressed his desire to run. A loud splash sounded several feet away. Again the reeds behind him rustled and parted. Who was following him? How could he escape? Carefully sliding his feet through the muck, he turned left to the sea, ahead to the circle, right to the grasses, behind to more marsh, then closed his eyes, concentrating. The sounds seemed to come from all around him.

  Shoulders straining forward, he grasped his thighs, heeding Teo's oft-repeated instruction to remain hidden until he knew which direction to run.

  A group of birds burst from the reeds. He clapped his hand over his mouth, quashing his scream. The wind returned, flicking his wavy black hair, and intensified to snap from side to side the reeds around him. A low howl joined the cacophony of the shrieking birds. The howl grew louder.

  Frantically, he tried to pull apart the layers of sound. Reeds snapping. Forceful slapping of water. The howl. Sweat trickled down his temple to his cheek. It itched.

  Something large crashed forward through the marsh. The intensity of the howl grew, becoming a roar, moving closer.

  Silence.

  He twitched his hand to his cheek. A reed struck his back, and he bolted—straight into a pair of strong, mud-streaked legs. He rebounded and fell back hard.

  A young man towered over him, the sweat on his sun-burnished arms and chest giving sharp definition to his sinewy muscles, drawn tight.

  Horus sucked a breath. "Teo, where were you?" he demanded. Catching sight of the crocodile, motionless, white belly streaked with blood, just behind, he wrenched back.

  Teo scowled. "I'd just found you. Then I heard this," he said and gestured toward the crocodile. "How can we protect you when you keep running away?"

  "I didn't mean to. I was—"

  "Dreaming, I know. Makes your running even more dangerous. Then, when you finally do wake up, who knows where, you can't even be still long enough to—"

  "I was still," Horus interrupted angrily. He stood and pressed his fists to his hips. "For a very long time, too."

  "Apparently not long enough to know which way to go." Teo narrowed his eyes.

  Horus' lip quivered. He stomped his foot then wiped his muddied hand and slipped his thumb into his mouth.

  "Quit it. Five is too old to be sucking your—"

  "That's enough," Nalia said calmly, her swift approach swaying her hair across her back. She glided past Teo and swept her charge into her arms. "Horus," she said with a sigh and pulled him tight against her. Worry lines framed the edges of her alert hazel eyes.

  Teo's scowl deepened. "He uses his nightmares as an excuse, Mother. What's the point of training him if he won't do what we tell him? We can't coddle him anymore. Seht's looking for him, and we—" stopping, he bit his lip.

  Nalia's expression hardened.

  Angling away, Teo pushed his fingers through his sleek black hair. "No," he said, lowering his hands, "he has to be told. He has to understand. Though why, with all his maddening cleverness, he hasn't figured it out is beyond me." He glared, jaw clenched, at Horus. "Seht knows you exist."

  "So? He doesn't know where I am," Horus replied and shrugged. He waved his hand sideways, opening and closing his fingers through the breeze.

  Teo pressed his lips together and shook his head. "Yeah, play with the wind. If you'd listen to it once in a while like your mother tried to teach you, instead of amusing yourself with it like some silly bird, you'd know Seht has scouts searching for you. And they're probably getting closer, even now. You think you'll be safe here forever? You're too smart to believe that, and pretending away what you know is true isn't going to save you."

  Nalia lowered Horus and turned to face her son. "He's already progressing more rapidly than we have any right to expect. As you know. And he reaches out to the wind because he has a special connection with it. As I've told you."

  "Yes, alright, you're right. Still, if he doesn't learn to protect himself, whatever 'gifts' he might develop won't matter much, will they?" Teo countered quietly. He leaned closer and whispered, "You know at least as well as I do Seht will kill him, along with whoever holds him. Isis hid Horus here because even she can't save him. So how are we, two humans, supposed to protect him from a god even gods fear?"

  Teo leaned back, made a slight hissing sound, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry. But really, if he's going to have all these great gifts," he said more loudly and paused, staring at the lifeless crocodile, "I wouldn't mind seeing a few of them."

  "Oh, yeah? Well, you just wait, Teo," Horus retorted and crossed his arms. "Anyway, Seht's in big trouble with Mommy and her friends. They'll take care of him."

  "No, they won't," Teo answered. "Don't you get it? They can't."

  Horus gazed expectantly at Nalia. Why wasn't she countering? Surely, what Teo said was an exaggeration. Horus pushed forward his
jaw. "Let me look in your eyes, Teo," he insisted.

  "Think you can do what your mother does?" Teo asked, voice tinged with sarcasm, but he kept his gaze toward the sea.

  Horus' brows drew down. "If Mommy were here, you'd do—"

  "Look, maybe I shouldn't have said it," Teo interrupted, still avoiding Horus' gaze. "But you almost got yourself killed. Again. What if I hadn't been able to get to you in time? Anyway, your nightmares make my keeping you safe difficult enough as it is. No need to make them worse."

  Horus shouted, "I said let me look."

  "Yeah, great, tell everyone anywhere near here. Fine. Alright. You want to see? Well, then see." Shoulders tight, Teo knelt.

  A light wind sailed in from the sea, caressing Horus' skin, then moved past, tipping the reeds and swaying the canopy. Imitating his mother's penetrating stare, Horus looked deeply into Teo's green-flecked brown eyes. Frustration, yes, and...fear.

  Tears streaked the mud smeared across Teo's cheeks. He turned away.

  Horus blinked. Had he hurt him? Chin trembling, he touched Teo's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have tried. Please, Teo, are you okay?"

  Fist to his lips, Teo looked up and nodded.

  In that instant, Horus saw—all Teo had said was true. Any moment, Seht's spies might find him, give signal, and then his father's murderer would come and kill him. He staggered back, legs trembling.

  Escape. How? The ocean. If he could find an undertow and be swept away, surely his mother would return, tell him what to do, where to hide. Longing scratched through him like thorns. It had been two years since her last visit. Would she come?

  Maybe she didn't love him anymore. But if she wouldn't help him, who would?

  Terror building, he fled the circle, raced up along the trail of black earth, reached white sand, the curve of the cove, the ocean.

  "Horus," Teo yelled, tearing after him, one hand stretched forward, face pale. "Stop!"

  Wind swept around him, and Horus fell. He scrambled to his feet and rushed toward the waves.

  Teo tackled him, and they landed with a thud, their hands carving long, deep lines in the sand. "Are you crazy?"

  Wildly, Horus struggled to wriggle from Teo's hold.

  Teo tightened his grip. "Listen to me. If you leave here, Seht will find you. If you leave here, you're dead."

  Isis would be here already if she were coming. Horus was on his own. His only chance to survive was to flee this island, to get somewhere, anywhere, else. "Let go," he cried. "I have to get home!"

  The rush and retreat of the waves became protracted. Teo's movements shifted into slow motion. The breeze became sluggish. The rustling of the marsh's reeds fell low. Horus broke free, leapt to his feet, and glanced back. Leaves, journeying forward from the islands' trees, dangled like a necklace of green over the white sand. The palms' fronds hung mid-sway. An egret hovered, mid-stroke.

  Horus galloped forward, the ocean's salt stinging his sand-scraped knees. Even the stars' twinkling seemed static. The water deepened, sand shifting beneath his feet, dark, still waves hindering him. The sea's tang filled his nose, its briny sourness his mouth. Pushing through a high wave hanging mid-crest, he lifted his arms, scratched and smarting from the ocean's salt, over his head.

  At the edge of the island's shelf, he took a breath, stepped forward, and submerged. Ocean closed over him. Down and down, he sank, the faint moonlight over the ocean's surface fading. Blackness closed around him.

  Yes, it must have been Seht in Horus' dream, Seht who'd frightened away the lights. Could Seht still reach him, hidden beneath the sea?

  Horus' lungs burned. He flailed upright, cupped his hands, and began, as Teo had taught, to stroke and kick toward the sea's surface, so far away.

  Suddenly, brilliant light manifested in the water, swept closer, and surrounded him.

  He gasped, his tongue forced down, his airway widening, his chest growing heavy, his lungs filling with water. Too late, he covered his mouth. Had he escaped only to drown? Could he, suspended within water, force the water from his lungs? To be replaced by what? He was submerged too deeply to reach the surface in time to survive.

  His thoughts stilled, a calm awareness taking hold. His body had given no protest, the light-suffused water soothing rather than burning his lungs and throat.

  Hesitantly, he inhaled and then waited for the answering convulsion. None came. He could breathe.

  His muscles relaxing, the water warming around him, he released to the restful sea and floated. Surely, in the midst of such harmony, the ceasing of all struggles, he was safe now from any danger, even Seht. Content, he gave over to the freedom the light afforded, his arms and legs gently swaying with the water's serene undulations.

  Yes, this was the joy he'd felt in his dreams. This was the tranquility he'd felt while within Isis' womb. This was the merging he'd longed to recreate, a return to the bliss and stillness he'd known before he was conceived.

  For so long, he'd labored to discover the way back to his home within the light. And now, the light had come to him. Held once more within the watery void, his striving was at an end. He would never leave. Why should he?

  The oval of light shifted. A circle of night opened above him. The water contracted, the force of the spasm pushing him upward. He thrashed his arms and legs, but the lifting current tightened around him.

  Why was the light forcing him out, away from its peace, back to the world of darkness and danger? "No, please," he begged, struggling to find and grasp a hold.

  Water slipped between his fingers. He was sped upward, the light fading, till once again, he was in dark, cold sea.

  "No," he cried, bubbles streaming from his nose and mouth. "Please, take me with you." Lungs aching, he inhaled. His body shook in protest, and he choked.

  Would he die, cold and alone, the light lost forever?

  The light returned, encircling him, and he was thrust through tumultuous waves to the surface, near the shore.

  His feet touched sand. The light dissipated.

  Horus coughed hard. Water burbled from his mouth. He took a quivering breath and coughed again, spewing briny foam. Finally, chest aching, nose, mouth, throat, and lungs aflame, he was able to hold a breath. He sat. Where was Teo? Searching the waves. "Over here," he called.

  Teo emerged from the sea and ran to him. Shaking, he lowered and then flopped onto his back.

  Spent, Horus stared forlornly at the vastness of sea. The wispy clouds shielding the moon swept past, and light danced across the waves, joining and intensifying the wavering dots of the stars' reflections.

  Brows knitted, Horus tilted his head. The lights on the water reminded him of something from long ago.

  A tear wobbled down his cheek to his chin. He wasn't in darkness. Light was here, too. And he wasn't alone. He had Nalia and Teo, his two companions. His family.

  * * * * *