by James Axler
For a split second, the scene held frozen and motionless. During this interval, Ryan realized that the rage in his eyes had a sudden, answering reflection in those of Krysty's. Roaring, he leaped at Akhnaton.
Akhnaton thrust Krysty aside and lunged to meet Ryan's charge. His hand locked around Ryan's right wrist, and as his free hand went for his throat, Ryan clasped it. They strained against each other for a long moment.
Akhnaton's breath was hot on his face. The muscles of both men bulged. From far away, on the very fringes of his awareness, Ryan heard a thready, breathy whisper. "Mother of the Earth, give your daughter the power, the power, the power…"
Akhnaton's knee flashed up, splitting and ripping through the thin material of his robe. It pounded into Ryan's lower belly like a sledgehammer, and he folded over in the direction of the pain. Bile boiled up his throat.
The hand of Akhnaton wrenched brutally at his right arm, snapping his entire body up and over in a half cartwheel. Agony ripped up and down his arm, a deep, boring pain that settled and exploded in his shoulder socket. The winch handle clanged loudly on the floor.
Ryan's back slapped against the polished veneer of the sarcophagus, the bone-jarring impact slamming air out through his mouth and nostrils. Blinking against the swirling pain-haze, he saw Akhnaton saunter toward him, carrying himself with the self-assured manner of a tiger approaching its wounded prey.
"I allowed you to live after our encounter two nights ago," he said. "I don't extend the same mercy to the same fool twice in one lifetime."
Then Krysty's arm encircled Akhnaton's neck from behind and jerked him off his feet.
JAK AWAKENED with a start. His impression was that he had been sleeping a long time and that he had been dreaming. In his dream, he had come to the frightening realization something was terribly wrong.
To loosen his stiff neck tendons, Jak rolled his head. Through the open mouth of the shaft, the light of the setting sun colored his restricted view of the sky. He heard a dim murmur of sound from far below, but it was too faint to identify.
He thought of his love, of Nefron, of what she wanted him to do, and flickers of raw emotion passed through his mind. As he eyed the projecting knob of the deadfall lever, revulsion filled him. Chilling an enemy in a face-to-face was one thing, but crushing him through traps and treachery was the act of a cowardly mercenary, like the coldhearts who had murdered his wife and baby.
Jak desperately sought the image of Nefron and the feelings of love she had expressed for him. He found the image, but no feelings of love—only anger overlaid with sexual energies and lust. Not lust for him, but for power.
His revulsion deepened, and he tried to talk his gut out of it. He couldn't. His heart lurched and his breathing was suddenly heavy. Jak knew on a profound, intuitive level that he had been tricked, hoaxed, conned and used.
He didn't know why he felt this way so intensely, but he wasn't going to analyze the reasons. The taste of his own shame was so bitter he almost vomited.
Bitter.
He replayed in his memory the many, almost countless cups of astringent liquid both Kela and Nefron had cajoled him to drink.
Jak climbed unsteadily to his feet, teetering for the moment on the edge of the rock shelf. Whether Pharaoh was indeed the monster Nefron had described, he knew that his actions could be no more loathsome than her own.
He sprang up, bracing himself with sweaty palms against the shaft walls, feet scrabbling to secure a hold. Inches at a time, he began worming his body up the vertical passage, pushing with his hands and heels. Climbing up would be far more laborious than climbing down.
A ghostly wail full of soul-deep pain wafted up from below. He froze for a second, nape hairs tingling in fright. His boot soles suddenly slipped, and he plummeted downward, shoulders and back scalding with friction-induced heat. His right leg flailed wildly, kicking out for some kind of purchase or support.
His foot found it, and when Jak pushed himself up, a gunshot-loud crack echoed within the shaft. He froze for only a microsecond, listening. Immediately following the fading echoes of the sound, he heard a rumble.
"Shit," he said aloud.
Frantically, he began to climb again, clawing and dragging his way up the shaft.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Akhnaton was at least a hundred pounds heavier than Krysty, yet she sent him reeling half the length of the King's Chamber with one arm. The bronzed giant staggered and stumbled, losing his headdress but managing to regain his balance.
He gaped at Krysty, his face sagging in an expression of astonishment that was almost comical. Then, snarling, his upper lip curled back over his teeth. He straightened to his full six-foot-plus height, raising his fists over his head in rage.
"You bitch! You mutie whore! You dare to profane me with your soiled touch?"
Akhnaton was on her in a roaring rush, swinging keglike fists in a flurry of punches. Krysty managed to duck and backpedal out of the reach of his arms.
Ryan resisted the urge to interfere. He recognized that strange, dreamy half smirk on Krysty's lips. She was in the grip of Gaia now and far more dangerous than Akhnaton had ever dreamed she could be.
Akhnaton came at her again, sweeping both arms at her head. Krysty ducked the first punch and stepped inside the second. She put her right fist into his belly and swung her left in an uppercut that rocked him back on his heels.
Though Akhnaton had no knowledge of the finer points of hand-to-hand combat, Ryan knew he would depend on his strength to absorb punishment to carry him through a fight. Krysty's problem lay in avoiding his punches and landing enough of her own to wear him down. He prayed she had the stamina before the power of the Earth Mother left her.
Akhnaton launched himself at her, one of his fists grazing her shoulder. She shot her right into his face in a short jab. Akhnaton's head snapped back, and blood sprang from his lips. Snarling, he came boring in, head tucked against his shoulder, swinging wildly.
Krysty weaved gracefully, spun and back-stepped, letting his blows go above her head or pass over her shoulders. Even in her altered state of consciousness, she remembered Ryan's training. She suddenly dropped, one leg stretching out and sweeping Akhnaton's legs out from under him. He went over sideways, bellowing a curse.
She kicked at his head, but he closed a hand around her ankle and another around her waist, fingers sinking deep. She made no outcry, not even when he rose and lifted her bodily over his head. Cloth ripped, and Krysty was hurled to the floor. Half of her gown came away in Akhnaton's fist, leaving most of her legs bare.
Krysty struggled up to a sitting position, snapping at air. Akhnaton clutched her by the hair and violently hauled her to her feet. She didn't resist his pull, but went with it, kicking herself off the ground and driving the crown of her head into his face. Cartilage crunched loudly. She raked her nails over his chest, ripping rents in his robe and the flesh beneath. They caromed away from each other, and Akhnaton fell, blood spurting from his nostrils.
The red-haired woman was over him before he gained even a crouching position. She caught him in the head with a side-kick and threw a down-plunging straight-arm punch that opened a cut over his right eye and slammed him back to the floor. Akhnaton snatched at her legs and tried to drag her down. She hammered overhead blows on the back of his head, neck and shoulders. He pulled up suddenly on her leg, dumping her onto her back.
Akhnaton swarmed all over her, snarling and striking and trying to achieve a stranglehold. They wrestled and grappled, and cloth tore. Ryan started to rush in, but Krysty forced the man's head back with the heel of one hand against his chin and chopped him across the windpipe with the edge of the other. Akhnaton gagged for air long enough for Krysty to heave him to one side. She scrambled to her feet.
She was gasping, face wet with sweat, and Ryan noticed a definite wobble in her knees. Most of the time when she called on the power of Gaia to increase her strength, it was for a limited d
uration. He couldn't recall an incident where she had faced an adversary whose natural strength matched or even exceeded that given to her by the Earth Mother.
Akhnaton lumbered to his feet. His robe was ripped in many places. One eye was but a slit in his face. His lips were blood-oozing pulp. His nose was streaming scarlet, but he smiled with red-stained teeth. With a shock, Ryan realized he had an erection and it strained against the rags of his clothes.
He beckoned to Krysty with a hand. "Beloved," he crooned, "you are truly a revelation. What mighty offspring we will create. Come to me."
Krysty went to him in an eye-blurring lunge, pumping first her left, then her right fist into his face. She kicked him in the stomach.
Akhnaton took her blows without a sound, stepping close to her. He hooked his right into her body. His fist, starting from his hip, smashed directly into her midriff. The force of the punch lifted Krysty from her feet, and for a second she hung suspended, folded over Akhnaton's fist and forearm.
As she slid limply to the floor, Ryan dived toward the hell-eyed man, fingers spread to rip the crimson orbs from his head. Akhnaton leaned away from him and linked his hands, as if he were swinging a club. He swung both fists into the center of Ryan's chest, directly over the heart.
Bubbles of pain burst with explosions of agonizing color. The impact slammed him backward and dropped him to within a foot of the sarcophagus. The back of his head struck the stone sharply. Only the fierce pain in his dislocated shoulder and chest kept him from losing consciousness. It was an effort to breathe, to think, to blink. Even the blood seemed to cease flowing through his body.
He watched as Akhnaton lurched toward Krysty, who huddled in a gasping ball on the floor. Gripping her by the hair, he pulled her to her knees and slowly forced her head back. Her eyes were glassy, fogged with exhaustion and pain. With his free hand, he stripped away what was left of his robe, and his erection sprang out, thick and throbbing. His burning eyes seethed with a volcanic fury and he grinned in unholy glee.
"You'll still have me," he said harshly. "You'll still give birth to my dynasty. Now more than ever, I want you. If I can't have you as my bride, I'll take you as my slave."
Then Krysty's hand flashed up, slashing swiftly and savagely like a scythe or the claws of an enraged lioness. Blood spewed in liquid tendrils from the shredded flesh between Akhnaton's legs. He stood frozen to the spot by shock, by the sudden, overwhelming pain.
Only when Krysty tossed aside his bloody testicles did he scream, a full-throated shriek of outraged agony that seemed to collect at the point of the ceiling and stay there, the echoes chasing each other back and forth.
Akhnaton flung his head back and howled. Grasping at his crotch, scarlet squirting from between his fingers, he sank to his knees, roaring and screaming at the top of his lungs.
Krysty scrambled out of his reach and rolled to her feet. She tangled the fingers of her right hand in the hair and scalp at the back of his head. She yanked his head back, his face turned to the ceiling. Locking her wrist, extending and stiffening the first two fingers of her right hand, Krysty drove them through Akhnaton's eyeballs, up to the knuckles.
His eyes burst, and her fingers punched through the delicate bone of his sinus cavities, cramming splinters into his brain. Akhnaton ceased his howling. Krysty jerked her hand back, blood and gelatinous matter trailing from her fingertips. He toppled over backward, legs still tucked beneath him. Blood continued to jet from the ruined swatch of flesh at his groin.
Krysty swayed over him, drawing a trembling hand across her face, wiping the man's blood from it. Her breathing sounded like steam escaping from a faulty valve. She shambled around to face Ryan, took a faltering step, then fell to one knee.
Still dazed and fighting to control the pain that threatened to consume him, Ryan got to his feet. He heard a new sound, a grating, crunching rumble that swallowed up the echoes of Akhnaton's scream. He looked up. The ceiling blocks quivered, and a fine rain of power sifted down from between the cracks. The uppermost stones seemed to bulge outward.
Ryan wrestled Krysty to her feet, shouting, "We've got to go!"
She looked at him, her eyes fathomless in her blood-streaked face. For a moment, she stared at him without recognition.
He shook her. "Krysty! Get it together!"
She moved then, sprinting with him toward the alcove. With a thunderous roar, a torrent of stone blocks poured down from above. Great slabs of rock fell and crashed. The floor quaked beneath their feet.
Ryan grasped Krysty by the wrist and pulled her past the winch and pulley and out of the opening. They reached the stairs, and Krysty took the lead, leaping down the steps four at a time. Ryan followed her closely, not daring to look behind him. One misstep would be fatal.
Fragments of flying rock pattered down all around them. Millions of tons of thundering stone collapsed behind them, and they barely kept a few yards ahead of it. The pyramid imploded, and the sound was like doomsday.
Below, the crowd lifted faces pale and wet with terror to see their pharaoh's mighty monument falling in on itself. They scattered, squealing in fright as titanic stone cubes went bounding and skipping down the shivering face of the pyramid.
Giant black cracks zigzagged through the smooth white face of the pyramid. Great clefts were riven deep as the structure split asunder.
The stairs jumped and trembled under Ryan and Krysty's feet. Almost without thinking, they dived from it. The two people hit the ground hard and kept rolling, not just to absorb the impact and minimize their chances of breaking bones but to put as much distance between them and the avalanche of stone blocks. Ryan grunted as flares of pain ignited in his shoulder, but he rolled frantically.
In the dim light, veiled by swirling clouds of dust, the pyramid seemed to come apart in some weird slow motion, like on a vid loop. Fragments of casing stone floated in the vapors, turning slowly like revolving planets. They tumbled and toppled and crashed.
Ryan and Krysty clung to each other and watched in blank shock at the scene of havoc and destruction. She said something, but her voice was lost in the fury of the stony, thunderous tempest that roared about them.
Then, mercifully, the cataclysmic sounds began to fade, replaced by the clink and crunch of settling stone. A pillar of whirling dust and rock particles rose toward the sky, like a shadowy grave marker.
Driven by the terror and awe of the moment, Ryan crushed Krysty in his arms and kissed her passionately. Voices came to them, tones of terror, confusion and anger.
"They destroyed Pharaoh's monument!"
"Where is Pharaoh? Tell us!"
Most of the crowd was creeping back, but they were no longer joyful or in a celebratory humor. A woman pointed at Krysty and screeched, "Pharaoh's bride! She betrayed Pharaoh!"
Ryan and Krysty climbed to their feet. She was very weak now that the Gaia energy had left her. Still, she was able to exchange grim smiles with Ryan. A segment of the crowd surged forward. He tensed himself to fight and die. His ankh was no protection against an enraged mob.
A man jumped at him, and Ryan recognized him as fat Shukeli. The truncheon in his fist swept down, straight at his head. Ryan recoiled.
The man's bloated body twisted convulsively aside. He fell past Ryan, onto the ground. A red-rimmed hole spurted blood from the center of his back. Only then did Ryan hear the familiar twig-snapping report of his Steyr.
The crowd suddenly parted. Dean shouldered his way through, grimacing fiercely, the Steyr in one hand, his Browning Hi-Power in the other. Ryan swiped a hand over his eye, not knowing if the image of his son was indeed real or a pain- and stress-induced hallucination. Dean stepped up beside him and told him simply, "You said we'd be together again."
Ryan's knees sagged in relief, and he took the Browning from Dean's hand. They covered the angry throng with the barrels of the blasters. "Where is everybody else?" Dean asked.
"Right here," J.B. said.
The A
rmorer, Mildred and Doc bracketed Ryan and Krysty. Dean glanced at Doc strangely, but said nothing.
"They only got two blasters between them!" a man's voice snarled. "We can take them in a rush!"
The sound of the Colt Python was a deep-throated boom, only slightly less loud than the collapse of the pyramid a few moments before. Jak limped up, his blaster pointed at the crowd. "That you do," he stated. "But you die first."
Jak was gray with dust. The only color about him was the trickle of blood from small lacerations on his face and the brilliant blaze of his ruby eyes. He held his revolver in a two-fisted grip.
Ryan knew that even with three blasters in the hands of experts, they couldn't hope to fight their way through the incensed citizenry of Aten. The crowd shifted forward, then suddenly receded, drawing back like a wave of flesh.
"Let me pass, damn you! Let me pass!" a woman cried imperiously.
Nefron shouldered her way out of the throng. Jak centered the sights of the Colt on her face, but she swept him with a cold glare before turning away to face the mob.
She addressed the crowd in a razor-edged, matter-of-fact voice. "People of Aten, hear me and listen well. I stand here as your queen. The only child of Pharaoh, the true and rightful heir to the throne. You know this to be true."
The people gaped at her dumbly, numbly.
Nefron's eyes suddenly blazed, and a crimson glow swallowed her dark irises. The crowd murmured in horror, clenching their hands.
"I am the law in Aten." The echoes of her words hung in the air, vibrating against the ear.
"You are the law," a few voices mumbled.
"You will obey me. I struggled against and swallowed the injustices of my father, but no longer. I am the law. I shall rule. I am your queen."
She gestured behind her. "The newcomers are under my protection. Harm them, and I will view it as an act of treason against the throne. Do you hear me? I am your queen."
