Seated across the room from me on a golden chaise, his dark robes were spread around him like a fan.
And this was not my bedroom.
I looked around quickly. Polished marble floors, elaborate silken draperies, onyx statues, glittering golden accents. Ebony balcony doors were open, allowing the lush, fragrant seabreeze to blow in, gently ruffling my hair. This was impossible. Utterly impossible. This was my bedroom. But not my bedroom in Pasadena. This was Charmian’s bedroom. In ancient Egypt.
“We’re in Alexandria,” I muttered uncertainly, eyeing the priest with suspicion. “I don’t understand this. This has never happened before…”
There was no way I should be here. This was the past, not the present. I had never moved through time before. Not ever. There was no need. My job was to ensure that my Daedal’s plan unfolded perfectly. There was never any need to return to a life, because I was very good at what I did. But my surroundings didn’t lie. I had definitely returned.
I glanced down at my body and found it to be Charmian’s, not Macy’s. A short filmy shift cut off mid-thigh, belted by several golden cords at my waist. Confusion clouded my thoughts.
How is this happening?
I examined my arm. The skin was perfect and golden, buffed to a soft sheen. I knew that we had used sea salt as a scrub to attain that perfection. Glistening gold bracelets adorned my wrists, with agate and jade charms dangling from them.
As strange as it seemed to be thrust back into it, I was still perfectly comfortable in this body because it had once been mine. It was a jolting notion.
“I hope you will forgive me for bringing you here, Charmian.”
Annen rose from his perch and crossed to me, sitting next to my feet.
“I don’t understand it,” I murmured. “Why are we here? And why are you here, priest? Where is Ahmose?”
Ahmose was my handler, an ancient Aegis priest skilled in magic. It was he who came to me during my seventeenth year in every life to present me with my bloodstone, which triggered my cycle to begin. To my knowledge, Annen was not involved with the Order or the Aegis. I had only known him here… in Alexandria. So why had he sought me out two thousand years from where we were now standing?
As I stared at him, I knew that all of my panic and confusion was easily visible on my face. I could feel it. Annen smiled a tiny smile.
“Charmian, surely you remember that I’m not simply a priest?” Condescending and self-assured, he stared down his long, crooked nose at me.
“No, I don’t remember that,” I answered firmly. “My memories are coming back yet I still only remember you from the Serapis Temple. Are you part of the Aegis?”
Annen shook his head. “No, my lady. I’m not part of the Aegis. They do so tamper with your memories, Charmian. It isn’t right.”
Confusion clouded my thoughts and I shook my head in frustration, shaking away his words and focusing on my questions.
“Then I don’t understand. Ahmose triggers my cycle. Where is he?”
“Oh, he’ll be along shortly, I imagine,” Annen replied mysteriously. “But I need to speak with you first. It is of utmost importance.”
“Well, you’ve certainly got my attention,” I answered, staring at him both curiously and apprehensively. This was all new. And I didn’t like it. Something wasn’t right here. I could feel it as the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I laid my bloodstone down on the bed and turned back to face him.
“Of course. But first, Charmian, would you like to know what happened to Hasani? I know that when you and Cleopatra barricaded yourselves in her tomb, you hadn’t heard of his fate yet. You died without knowing. Would you like to know now?”
He stared at me with a kindly expression and my heart stopped. It was forbidden to know what happened to our loved ones. One of the many rules for Keepers. But I suddenly had the compulsive need to know what happened to Hasani. Regardless of the rules, regardless of the consequences for breaking them.
I nodded stiffly, despite the ever-growing heavy pit in my stomach. This was wrong, wrong, wrong. But I had to know.
“Yes,” I whispered. “I would.”
Annen held his wrinkled claw-like hand out to me once again and gritting my teeth, I grasped it. His long fingernails curled around until they scratched my palm. I shuddered, but didn’t have time to dwell on it. Because almost immediately, the visions began.
Soldiers were marching, swords were drawn, blood was everywhere. Cleopatra was weeping, people were running. Everything was so vivid that I could smell the blood and taste the dust in the air as the people scattered. Tattered and torn warships filled the harbor and mutilated bodies lined the street. And suddenly there was Hasani, rising up in my vision like an avenging god. My heart stopped as I watched his bronzed face gleaming in the sun.
My beautiful warrior was yelling orders to his soldiers, looking this way and that as mayhem unfolded all around them. Even surrounded by the anguish and haunting sadness of war, I couldn’t help but admire his abilities. He was a born leader… tall, fierce and commanding.
But suddenly, out of the chaos, the top of a Roman helmet appeared behind him- silent and stealthy. Flat brown eyes were fixated on Hasani, filled with deadly intent. Every fiber of my being screamed to shout a warning, but obviously, he couldn’t hear me. My hands shook as I watched helplessly, impotent to help him.
The Roman lunged and forcefully ran his sword through Hasani’s back. He yanked it out and sneered down as blood dripped from the blade. Hasani looked stunned as he crumpled to the ground, his beautiful dark eyes clouding over, his strong hands falling limply to his side as he dropped his iron shield. His head fell back and blood gurgled from his slack mouth, dripping from his chin to his metal chestplate in fat drops.
Absolute horror immobilized me and I fought to breathe as I stared at his lifeless body, the body that I knew every inch of. Tears silently streamed down my cheeks and my chest was frozen, like it was wrapped with steel bands. It wouldn’t constrict or expand and I struggled to inhale.
Once I was finally able to take a ragged breath, I reacted in the only way I knew how. I screamed, yanking my hand free from the priest’s. The moment my hand left his, the visions abruptly stopped. I drew my feet up onto my bed, hugging my knees to my chest.
“It’s not real,” I murmured shakily, trying to convince myself. “It’s not real.”
“But it was real,” Annen confirmed and my heart shattered into pieces. “You can feel it. You know it was real. Just as you also know that something similar to this happens to you in every lifetime.”
“But I’ve never seen it before,” I murmured. “Knowing it in theory and actually seeing it are two different things.”
“Which is why the Order prevents you from knowing these things,” Annen replied, his onyx eyes glittering strangely. “There is a reason why they wipe your memories clean in every life and only let you regain specific ones- such as what you are. Knowing the other details would only make things harder for you…harder to follow through with their plans for you.”
I glared at him. “Again, let me ask.. what is it to you? Why are you so interested in this…and in me?”
Annen stared at me contemplatively.
“Charmian, have you ever wondered what gives the Fates the right to control destiny?”
I stared at him blankly.
“Of course not. It is simply how things work. It has always been this way.”
“But perhaps it has always been this way because we have allowed it to be so,” Annen suggested.
“What in the world are you talking about?” I stared at him in puzzlement. “We don’t allow anything. I don’t write Fate’s plan, I just carry it out. It is what it is.”
“Oh, Charmian. You have more power than you know… more power than they will ever let you discover. And that, my lady, is why I am here.”
I stared at him blankly again.
“And why is that?”
“Because before you continue
with even one more cycle, there are things you need to know about the Fates.”
At his words, I thought about the three ancient white-haired Moirae. They were frighteningly powerful. According to ancient legend whispered from generation to generation for thousands of years, the eldest sister Clothos spun the thread of life, while Lachesis measured the length of each thread, thereby deciding how long each person would live. The youngest, Atropos, was the cutter. She determined how each person would die. I’ve only been face to face with them a handful of times and those few times were enough.
That was the legend. Obviously, they don’t literally weave a tapestry of life with a loom full of string, but legend was shockingly close to reality. However you wanted to explain it, they controlled destiny. They literally held life and death in their hands. I turned my focus back to Annen.
“What about them?” I asked.
I glanced over my shoulder nervously, as though they might appear at any minute simply because we were talking about them. You never know. They were just that frightening.
“They aren’t what you think,” Annen stated calmly. “You have always believed that they are good and spiritual beings intent on keeping order in life. But they’re not. They are simply drunk on power. And they have lived so long that they have grown bored. They play games with the lives that they were trusted to protect.”
“What do you mean… games?” I asked hesitantly.
“I brought you here so you could see firsthand for yourself, so that you don’t have to take my word for it. You and Cleopatra died tragic deaths here, along with Iras, Marc Antony and Hasani. You made sure of it because you thought it was all part of a master plan, correct?”
“Of course. That was the path meant for all of us in this life. It was my job to make it so. I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”
“I’m trying to explain to you that there is no such thing as true Fate. You all died horribly for no reason at all. Charmian, you have been manipulated as a tool for centuries at the whims of three old women. Period.”
I sat in stunned silence for a moment, staring at him uncertainly.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Of course you don’t. It goes against everything you’ve been taught. You’ve been groomed to believe that you have a higher purpose- that you have been acting for the good of all mankind. But you haven’t. It’s time for you to realize that and do something about it.”
The room seemed to whirl around me as I weighed what he was saying to me. Could it be? But that wouldn’t make any sense. The Fates, the Moirae, had always been. If they weren’t meant to handle destiny, then who was?
“Charmian, as I said, I don’t expect you to simply take my word for it. You know what is supposed to happen here. In one week’s time, Octavian will arrive in Alexandria. Rome will crush Egypt. You, Cleopatra, Iras, Marc Antony and Hasani will all die. But I’m proposing something else. I think you should change it.”
My eyes flew to his and I gasped. “Change it?”
“Yes. Change it. Change it so that you live, so that Cleopatra accomplishes what she most wanted to do… which is to keep a member of the Ptolemy family on Egypt’s throne.
“You have the benefit of knowing now how things will unfold. You can anticipate Octavian’s moves before he makes them. Use that ability and change everything. Then you will see that your actions don’t truly matter…because there is no set destiny, Charmian, as the Fates would have you believe.”
I was in a stupor. This went against everything that I had ever believed and suddenly the biblical story of the Garden of Eden sprang to mind… how Eve had been tempted by the serpent into eating from the tree of life. This must have been how she felt, because a part of me, a part that was growing larger by the moment, wanted to believe Annen, even though it felt really wrong. The Fates always placed me in horrific circumstances. If I could escape it… if I could save Hasani… nothing else mattered. I would accept the consequences.
Before I could think another rational thought, however, an enormous black shadow seemed to overtake the room, stretching from corner to corner. Giant black shadow wings appeared on the wall of my bedchamber before they quickly folded and materialized into the shape of a man standing in front of me.
Ahmose. My ancient, wise handler. I breathed a sigh of relief. He would be able to make sense of this.
“What are you doing?” he hissed to Annen. “How did you escape?”
As they stood side by side, their physical similarities were astounding. They were both ancient and wrinkled with glittering black kohl-rimmed eyes. Their heads were shaved and they both wore long black robes. They seemed to have been cast from the same mold.
“What do you think I am doing?” Annen countered calmly. “I’m explaining to Charmian a few things that she deserves to know. Did you think they could keep me imprisoned forever?”
“You know nothing!” Ahmose spit angrily. “And you should not speak of that which you do not know!” He turned to me.
“Charmian, you have known me a very long time. I would not lead you astray. Do not listen to his lies.”
His tone was almost pleading and it alarmed me. He was all-knowing, always in control. Why did he feel the need to appeal to me? I was just a Keeper. He was an Aegis, an elevated priest who stood directly before the Fates on a regular basis. Before I could consider his motives further, though, Annen leaned toward me.
“Remember what I’ve told you, Charmian. Every word is true. We’ll speak more later,” he rasped, before he was suddenly gone. I spun around the room in a circle—but he had disappeared. I turned warily back to Ahmose, who was standing in place, calmly assessing me.
“I don’t understand any of this,” I said softly. “Was he telling the truth?”
“I’m not certain what exactly he told you, Charmian, but I can assure you that I’ve never lied to you.”
“Not that you know of,” I continued carefully. “But maybe you’ve been lied to, as well.”
“Do not go down that path, Charmian,” he cautioned. “It is true that I am not always informed of the Moirae’s motives or intentions. But I do know that we have a higher purpose and it has always been just. Think about this- do you really think there is no plan to life? That things are meant to simply fall where they may? I think not. That would be utter chaos.”
“But if Annen is lying, then what is his motive?” I pondered. “And who imprisoned him?”
“I do not know his motive,” Ahmose admitted. “And I don’t know many details of his imprisonment. All I know is that he was captured by the Moirae here in Alexandria long ago. I do not know their reason and I haven’t seen him since...until now. But let us not waste any more time on it. He is clearly misguided. Come now. Take out your bloodstone- let us return you to where you belong.”
Normally, I wouldn’t have let the matter rest, except one important thing distracted me now. My bloodstone was no longer lying on the bed.
I whirled around, gazing at every corner of the room. It wasn’t here. My panicked eyes met Ahmose’s.
“What?” he demanded. “What is wrong?”
“My bloodstone,” I whispered. “It’s not here. Annen must have taken it with him. Which means..”
“Which means that you are trapped here,” Ahmose confirmed, staring harshly at me.
“I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I had no idea that he would take it…”
But Ahmose was already shaking his head.
“I cannot be angry with you for that, Charmian,” he muttered. “Annen stole your bloodstone from my safe-keeping. So how could I be angry with you for the same thing?”
He turned and stared out the windows at the sparkling sea, his back rigid and ramrod straight. He stayed silent and unmoving for so long that I was getting ready to prompt him when he turned to me again.
“Charmian, whatever his motives are, he is trying to force your hand. He has trapped you here for a reason. Perhaps he wants you to change things t
o an outcome that better suits him. I know not. But you must not change anything. Do you understand the seriousness of our situation? We’re treading a very treacherous line.”
I nodded, even as I remembered Annen’s words. He absolutely wanted me to change things. But not to suit him. The outcome was meaningless to him. Annen wanted to prove to me that my whole existence had been a lie.
“But Hasani…” I whispered painfully.
“Hasani died as he was meant to,” Ahmose said firmly. “His death was not your fault.”
“But I could save him now,” I replied, sticking my chin out. “I don’t see what saving one Egyptian soldier would hurt.”
“You can’t,” Ahmose reiterated. “You must carry out your mission.”
He stared at me with steely black eyes and I felt like crumpling to the floor in a heap.
I knew my place in the world. I had been a Keeper for centuries. What I was supposed to do was obvious. I should find Annen, retrieve my bloodstone and leave this place… letting destiny unroll as it was meant. But the attachment I felt to Hasani was absolute. I couldn’t allow him to suffer a horrific fate.
Hasani was the only thing that mattered.
“Ahmose?” I whispered. “I don’t think I can.”
“Of course you can,” he replied firmly. “You don’t have a choice, Charmian. Hasani will die no matter what. Even if you intercede and stop his fate, he will die eventually. Everyone does. But if you change the fate that is meant for him, the ripple effects from that action could be devastating. You cannot.”
The confusion muddling my thoughts was sickening. Was he right? Deep down, I figured he probably was. Fate was what it was. I didn’t write it- I just carried it out. But that didn’t make the knowledge that my own actions would lead to Hasani’s death any less crippling. The very thing that I had been born to protect and uphold was now ripping my heart out.
Soul Bound Page 23
