by Jean Murray
The hum that distracted her earlier hissed louder. The source, a thick black book, isolated from all the others. Out of all the texts, why was it humming? It couldn’t be that easy, could it? Were the spirits trying to warn her?
She glanced over her shoulder through the turquoise light. No one was going to help her. Bakari’s awakening rested solely on her shoulders. Tremors racked her body.
God, help her.
She maneuvered around the piles of texts on the floor. Overweighed, the shelves bowed at their centers. Some had cracked and spilled their contents onto the floor. She walked the serpentine line that was free of any obstructions to the location of the ominous black book. A metal buckle held its contents closed. The glyphs of death and evil covered the face and spine.
She inhaled deeply, summing what little courage she had. She skimmed her fingertips over the edge of the metal clasp. A sharp prick penetrated her finger. She yanked her hand away. With her finger stuck in her mouth she pressed her tongue against the small puncture wound. The coppery taste of her blood filled her mouth.
Leaning in closer, she inspected the edging. Nothing appeared to be sharp, but something had cut her. A single droplet of her blood glistened against the black metal. The blood sizzled and evaporated with a puff of white smoke.
The pitch of the hum evolved into a rumble. The clasp sprang free. The cover flew open and the pages began to flip in rapid sequence. Startled, she jumped. God, she hoped she was right.
The shelves around her shook and the voices previously silenced screamed out. The noise pierced her ears. Instinctively, she covered her ear and pressed the other to her bad shoulder. She retreated to the only protective force in the room. Several of the large books fell off the shelves. The impact into the stone floor scattered pages into the air.
Overwhelmed, she cowered next to the alter.
The scream of ancient spirits surged and then clapped silent. In its wake parchments lazily floated to the floor around her. She leaned heavily against the footing, trying to catch her breath. Her muscles quivered like jelly. I should have waited for Bomani, she lamented.
She pushed up and retraced her path, careful to step over the fallen texts, never taking her eyes off the book. The papyrus mimicked the blackness of the cover, but with gold lettering. All the other texts in the library had black ink on white pages. The queasiness in her stomach worsened. This was the missing demotic text.
With her heart thudding loudly in her ears she hovered her palm inches from its surface. A blue static charge tickled her palm. The black parchment lifted drawn by the current between them. She pulled her hand back and the page returned to rest against layers of paper.
“Holy cow.” She wiped her palm against her jeans. Despite her efforts, the prickling sensation traveled up her arm around her neck and then into her chest. The weight of doom wrapped a tight hold around her airway. Her breath hitched with the musty odor choking her. The whispers of ancient spirits returned to chant their pleading call.
She stumbled, fear consuming her. The bluish green light dimmed and threatened to plunge the room into complete darkness. In her panic she bumped into the alter in her escape. The protection book rocked on its mount and dimmed the protection spell further.
Kendra grasped the stone surface to fight against the weight that pressed into her. Her fingertips slipped and the heaviness slammed her back against the floor. The darkness collapsed around her and blighted out more of the protective glow until it only glimmered. She gasped for breath, each burning a path to her lungs with no reprieve. She raised her good arm to fight off the cage that held her so tightly pinned to the floor.
No escape.
She thrashed. Pain seared through her arm, shoulder and chest. The last of the light extinguished and closed the lid on her confinement. Screams burst from her lungs. A panicked insanity rocketed her heart in her chest.
The turquoise light flashed brilliantly. She shielded her eyes with her forearm. The weight lifted, her cage dispelled as quickly as it came. Onto her right side she brought her knees to her chest and sobbed.
For all the crypts she had fallen into over the years trapped for hours, nothing compared to the shear panic of this moment. Suffocating. Renewed sobs racked her body. She should have never come.
The whispers returned. The voices swept over her in warm soft waves. The urgency in their plea absent, their story told. The soothing caress strengthened her enough to push up. Strangely, her shoulder had returned into the socket. Although painful, she pushed up to stand. Despite no physical form, the whispers encircled and steadied her.
In pure and utter disbelief she dried her eyes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. Everything had been returned to its rightful place, as if nothing had happened. Even the black book lay closed. It’s buckle tight. The veil at the entrance simmered with the same intensity as when she came in.
The voices nudged her forward. The urgency to open Bakari’s tomb consumed her, not unlike the darkness minutes ago. She grabbed the black book and bolted out through the protective veil. Ignoring the jolt of pain, she bound up the steps and out the door of the archive. She slammed the door closed and leaned heavily against it. Her chest heaved and tears continued to trickle down her cheeks.
She glanced down both hallways to ensure she was alone. With the text clasped to her chest, she forced her pain away and sprinted to her room. No one must know, kept ringing over and over in her ears. She knew it wasn’t safe to have the book outside the confines of the vault and protection spell, but no one knew she had it. Only Kamen had knowledge of her location, but he had left prior to her supernatural experience and taking of the book.
It tingled against her hands. The cover and buckle faded before her eyes, turning into plain brown leather and absent of hieroglyphics. Kendra’s uneasiness grew. No one would know, she repeated.
No one should.
Chapter Seven
Bomani materialized outside Kendra’s door. Energized, he looked forward to starting the day with her. The sun warmed the air of the island. His fatigue, now only a memory. He had promised to take her to the vault, but he was going to hold her to the twenty-four hours.
He tapped on the door with his knuckle. After a minute he knocked with his fist. “Goddess Kendra?” It sounded so formal even to his ears, especially after spending so much time with her. But, she was a goddess and he, a warrior. He looked toward the long hall to the archive doors.
She may have risen earlier than he expected. He sauntered down the corridor and pulled the door open. The library sat dark and empty. He moved to the dining area. The servants busied themselves with setting the table for morning meals.
He returned to Kendra’s door. Exhausted, she probably slept in. He took a few steps away from the door, but stopped. She never over slept. There was not a morning that passed that he did not find her waiting for him outside her quarters. Not to mention her tenacity about seeing more of the library.
He pivoted, marched to her room and pounded on the door. Again, he was greeted by continued silence. He cracked the door open and called her name. Her small frame lay wrapped in the white sheets of the bed. The tendrils of her auburn curls cascaded over her pillow.
He hesitated at the door. It did not feel right entering unannounced. “Kendra.” Taking a few steps forward, he narrowed his focus on her. Pillows propped up her back and her left arm. A thick text sat in her lap. She had fallen asleep reading and in the clothes she had worn the night prior.
She did not stop working after he had escorted her to her room. Her determination rivaled any warriors. He strode forward and stood next to the bed. He picked up the book and set it to the side and grabbed the duvet to cover her.
“Rest well, young demi-god,” he whispered, intending to leave. He brushed his fingertips over her hand. Cool to the touch, her delicate fingers were swollen and blue. He snapped his gaze to her face. Under a tumble of hair the purple outline of another bruise shadowed her cheekbone. How had he not notice soone
r?
“Kendra!”
She jerked up straight and grimaced. With a groan she flopped onto the pillows.
Concerned, he leaned over her. “Isis, Kendra. What the hell happened to you?”
She blinked several times. Uncoordinated, she raised her hand to lazily rub her eyes. “I fell last night. I’m okay, really.”
“You’re okay?” he asked credulously. “You have bruising everywhere. Not to mention your arm is broken.” It was the only explanation for the amount of swelling present.
“I’m getting your sister.” Lilly could heal her.
“No! Please don’t.” Suddenly alert, she reached out and grabbed his hand. “It’s swollen because I dislocated it, but it’s back in the socket. It will be fine if I keep it elevated.”
He zeroed in on the blood stained pillow. He gently grabbed her chin and turned her head. Blood matted her hair. “Isis! There is no way you sustained these injuries in your room.”
She shifted out from under his touch and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Her eyes remained downcast. “I need a shower. I’ll be fine.”
He blocked her path to escape. “Tell me what happened.”
“I went to the archive last night. It was dark and I fell. That’s all.” She finally met his gaze.
Although, he knew there was more to it, he did not press her. He would seek out Lilly at his first opportunity. “Do you want me to draw you a bath? Soaking in the warm water will help you feel better.”
“You would do that? For me?”
He smiled. There was not much he would not do for her. “Of course.”
With purpose he went to drawing the water and adding some honeysuckle soap. He assumed it was her favorite. He grabbed her robe and a clean towel and placed them by the tub.
He returned to the other room to find her asleep again on the bed. He shook his head. Humans did not have much reserve when it came to the need for sleep. Even a demi-god required it. “Kendra.”
“Yeah, I’m awake. I’m awake.” Sluggish and awkward, she padded off to the bathroom. “Will you wait?”
“If you wish.”
“Yes.” She disappeared behind the curtain.
He sat for a few minutes on the chaise, but then rose to straighten her bed. After removing all the books, he meticulously drew up the sheets and replaced the blood stained pillow case. When he was done not a wrinkle remained in the comforter.
“Bomani.”
He glanced up to see Kendra standing in the bathroom doorway. Her rumpled clothes still hung from her body. Her cheeks burned a bright red.
“Ah, would you be able to help me for a second.”
He walked forward. “Is everything okay?”
“I can’t get my shirt off.”
“I will retrieve one of your sisters to assist.”
Her eyes widened. “No, don’t do that. Lilly has more than enough to worry about than find out about my little tumble.”
“Kit then?”
“I already thought of that but she left for the human realm this morning.”
Stale air collected in the silence between them before she held her arm out. “Just get my arms out of my sleeves.” The red blush of her cheeks turned crimson.
“Okay.” This is not what he planned this morning, but he could not very well let her languish inside a dirty shirt. He rolled his eyes at himself when she turned her back to him. Yes, chivalry at its finest.
He grasped the cuff of her sleeve and pulled gently. She retracted her arm up through the hole. The other arm proved to be a challenge. In the end he had to reach under her shirt to guide her elbow free. His hand grazed the side of her breast, unintentionally. The more exposed her skin became the more he wanted to run out of the room. It was warm, soft and way too tempting for him.
Gods, he was a grown male acting like a fledgling. Although, he chose his companions on a limited basis, he was not a stranger to touch. However, Kendra awakened a whole new level of awareness. Without thinking he pulled the shirt up and over her head. His eyes snaked down her bare creamy skin. He forced himself to look over her shoulder, only to see her frontal reflection in the mirror.
She covered herself with the shirt and glanced over her shoulder. “Sorry to make us both uncomfortable.”
Bomani rubbed a hand over his brow trying to erase the image of her breasts from his mind. He pushed up and headed to the bed. Trying to distract himself he started to stack the books in alphabetical order. He grabbed the last one and sat on the chaise. Several of the pages had been folded over. Blank pages. He shut the book and looked at the cover. The worn, brown leather stretched the surface, but not one hieroglyphic announced the title. He leafed through the pages. In fact, the whole book was empty.
He shrugged and laid it on top of the stack. Movement drew his gaze to the bathroom door. Kendra stood there in her robe. She had managed to get into a pair of jeans, and shoes. Her shirt hung from her hand.
Bomani swore silently to himself, wishing he could shut off whatever Kendra had awoken in his body. “Lilly can heal your injuries. Are you sure you do not want me to fetch her?”
“You don’t know my sister very well,” Kendra said with a smile. “Trust me, I wouldn’t ask you to do this, if I had any other option.”
Her words stung, surprisingly. He pushed the weird sensation away. “I promised we would visit the vault today, but would you like to grab a bite to eat first?” She turned her back to him and untied her robe. The thick terry cloth fell from her shoulders to her waist. Gently sliding the fabric over her head, he tried to ignore what he craved lay inches away.
“Actually, I want to talk with Inpu this morning.”
“Inpu?” He expected her to be begging to see the vault.
“I may not need to go there after all.”
Bomani froze for a moment. This was good news since he did not want her anywhere near that despicable place.
She turned around with her shirt properly in place. Her smile reached her eyes. “Thank you.”
“You are welcome. So, off to breakfast and then Inpu?” He would not give up trying to convince her to see Lilly.
“Yep, let me grab my book.” She picked the text at the top of the stack and followed him out.
Chapter Eight
Kendra rolled over and grabbed the book from the vault, one of many ancient texts that encircled her on the king size bed. Based on the growing stacks, her success this past week was less than stellar. Even with one black magic text.
She was certain this book contained the right spell. Inpu, the Underworld priest, had gathered the ingredients she needed. Everything was in place, but Bakari remained locked tight in his cell. Asar was counting on her to wake his son. Everyone was counting on her.
Rubbing her head in frustration, Kendra swung her legs out of bed. She shuddered remembering that moment in the vault when the darkness crushed upon her. It made her sick to think that Bakari was experiencing that right now, while she lay recuperating from a week long spell fest with no success.
She clasped her pounding forehead. She needed to do something constructive, other than ruminate about her failure. Bakari couldn’t wait any longer. She pulled her robe over her nightgown and headed out the large gold doors of her room into the palace common.
On Bomani’s insistence, he assigned a sentry to assist her in his absence. He tried to pass it off as simply someone to help her, but she knew better. Since her little accident Bomani became a little over protective. Since, she has never gone alone, especially when she descended into the bowels of the dungeon. She didn’t mind the escort because the place gave her the creeps.
The sentry’s black eyes swept the hallway and vista. He stood at seven feet tall with large bands of muscle and had similar scarification tattoos, but not to the extent of Bomani’s. The two sabers strapped to his chest were eye candy compared to the formidability of the warrior.
He had placed his body between her and the open balcony that overlooked the serpentine
river that snaked its way through Aaru. The sand of the beach sparkled in the new dawn light. The cycle of the day was in opposition to the human realm. Nighttime had arrived in the motherland of Egypt.
Tilting her head upward, she looked up at his massive shoulders to his angular jaw that was tightly set. “What’s your name?”
“Ari.” His eyes never left their surroundings.
She made the translation of his name in her head. “That means guardian, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.”
As if he didn’t know, she silently chastised herself. She was never that good at conversing with the opposite sex. Based on Ari’s tone, he wasn’t there for small talk or to become her friend.
She missed Bomani. Their friendship had grown over the last several weeks while she conducted her research in the library. So at ease with him, she almost forgot he was this powerful warrior. It was probably best he wasn’t here. Her ability to keep smiling waned with each passing day.
They approached the iron gate and broad steps of the dungeon. Ari nodded to the sentries and the heavy iron door swung open. She checked her pocket for her flashlight and then pulled her robe in tighter around her chest.
In short order Bakari’s cell loomed ahead. Doors she had been through countless times. The sentry at the entrance simply sidestepped and nodded his acknowledgement. He scanned her body with a light of curiosity. She had never shown up in a bath robe and slippers before. Normally, she would have chuckled and smiled, but she wasn’t quite feeling like herself.
The coldness of the rock seeped through the thin soles of her slippers momentarily distracting her from her throbbing headache. She clasped her arms, attempting to wipe away the fresh set of goose bumps covering her skin. The sensation would pass, it always did. She laid her hand on the top of the sarcophagus and covered the intricate carvings with her palm. “Good morning, Bakari.” Her voice sounded flat even to her own ears. There was nothing good about any of this.
