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Ferguson, J. A. - Call Back Yesterday.txt

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by Call Back Yesterday. txt (lit)


  Darcy quickly told the woman the story she had been

  trying to complete. The woman’s smile faltered when

  Darcy spoke of the treachery that had left Meskhenet’s

  sister and brother dead, but she motioned for Darcy to

  continue.

  “There is no more,” Darcy said. “I don’t remember

  how it ends.”

  “Yes, you do. You don’t want to recall it, for one never

  wishes to revisit the moment of one’s death.” She smoothed

  Darcy’s hair back from her face in a motion so familiar,

  tears of joyous reunion fell down Darcy’s face. “But you

  must know the truth, dear sister, or what once was shall

  be again. You have been given a chance to redeem a great

  wrong done against you. If you let it slip through your

  fingers, you will never have this chance again.”

  “But I don’t remember it.”

  Ahwere’s fingers touched Darcy’s temple. “Yes, you

  do.”

  She could not breathe.

  The darkness was stifling, pressing down on her so

  she could not draw in a single breath.

  Pain and darkness . . .

  Nothing left but pain and darkness and knowing she

  had failed. The lives in this time had nearly run their

  measure. Not only her life, but the lives of the ones she

  loved.

  She tried to breathe, but there was no air. Just dust

  from shattered mortar and broken rock.

  She had been warned. She should have listened.

  Pain and darkness . . .

  Ahwere’s fingers moved away.

  Darcy opened her eyes. “Is that the death you speak

  of? Meskhenet’s death?”

  “Yes. You rushed to save the one you loved, and you

  sought him in the place where he did the work he loved.”

  “In the tomb Kafele was building for my—for

  Meskhenet’s brother.”

  “For our brother, Meskhenet.” She smiled sadly.

  “I wanted to warn Kafele.” She rose to her knees and

  fisted her hands by her sides. “Usi intended to accuse him

  of the murder. I had to get to him. I had to.” She moaned

  as the terror rose up within her again. “No, I don’t want to

  remember the rest.” She reached out to grip Ahwere’s

  shoulders, but the ka held up her hands, keeping Darcy’s

  away, and shook her head.

  “The rest, Meskhenet. You must remember all that

  happened.”

  “Why won’t you tell me?”

  “You know better than I, Meskhenet, for I was dead

  and was being judged worthy of entering the underworld

  before you met your end.”

  Sitting back on her heels, Darcy stared at her hands.

  She closed her eyes as she did when she tried to think of

  the next words for the story . . . her story. “It was easy to

  slip out of the palace. Everything was in such a hubbub as

  word of the murders went from one mouth to another. No

  one doubted it had been poison, and there was much

  speculation about the execution of such a murderer.

  Horrible speculation.” She shuddered, then taking a deep

  breath, went on, “It was even easier than it had been before

  to cross the river. No one took notice of a small boat.”

  “So you went to warn Kafele.”

  “Yes.” She raised her eyes to Ahwere’s shadowed ones.

  “The sandal was his. I recognized it, and I knew Usi

  intended to place the blame on him. I had to warn Kafele.

  He must flee from Egypt—and take me with him. We could

  go beyond the great falls and live among those who resided

  on the banks at the Nile’s birth. But when I went to his

  home, he wasn’t there. I knew he must be at the tomb. I

  went there. When he wasn’t outside, I went in. I hadn’t

  gone far when . . .” She moaned as she collapsed onto the

  floor.

  The nightmare haunting her all her life had been the

  moments at the end of Meskhenet’s life. In her hurry to

  save Kafele, she had triggered one of the traps he had built

  to keep tomb-robbers from the Pharaoh’s sarcophagus. The

  roof had crashed down on her.

  More tears—these of an unspeakable loss—rained

  down her face as Ahwere’s fingers gently stroked her hair.

  Trembling, she grasped the ka’s hand. “Tell me,” she

  whispered. “Tell me what happened to Kafele.”

  “I do not need to tell you what you know, Meskhenet.

  Even though we both were dead before Kafele’s ka left

  his body, we know what happened.”

  She closed her eyes. She knew as if she had witnessed

  it herself. Usi would have exacted some cruel death on

  Kafele. With her gone, Kafele would have had no one to

  speak on his behalf. She shivered. If Meskhenet’s body

  had been found, Usi could have blamed Kafele for that as

  well.

  “If only I had waited . . .” Darcy whispered.

  “That was not in your nature then, dear sister. Is it

  now?”

  She almost said yes, then shook her head. She had

  blundered into the wood after Hastings instead of waiting

  for help. Again she had been doomed to the darkness she

  had feared she could not flee. But this time, she had escaped

  with Reverend Fairfield and Hastings’ help.

  “If I’m Meskhenet and you are Ahwere’s ka, then . . .”

  “You were not reborn into this time alone, my sister.

  Do you recall what Kafele called you the first time he

  held you in his arms?”

  “Yes. Beloved of Thoth.”

  Ahwere brushed her hand against Darcy’s cheek again.

  “He was and he is a man of much wisdom, for he could

  see the future even when we lived so many millennia in

  the past. He knew, even then, Thoth did not want to take

  you to his judgment so soon. You should have lived many

  more years.” She smiled. “Now you are living again. Your

  face is different, but I have seen my dear sister within you

  as I have watched over you.”

  “You? You are the light over my bed?”

  “The ka has a living presence that cannot be doused

  like a fire with the coming of death. It continues to glow

  with its life force until Ra sinks for the last time into the

  western desert.” Ahwere folded her hands in her lap. “I

  waited long for you to return from your wanderings to

  seek a new life. Now you have your chance for it, but be

  wary, Meskhenet. Do not repeat your mistakes, for you

  will not be given another chance.”

  “Repeat my mistakes?” Cold struck her as if a blizzard

  blew out of the darkness. “Are you saying there are others

  from the past in addition to Kafele and Meskhenet who

  are alive in this time?”

  “Do not repeat your mistakes, for you will not be given

  another chance.” The light around Ahwere began to

  contract, folding her image as if it were a photograph.

  “No!” Darcy cried, jumping to her feet. “Don’t go! I

  have so many more questions to ask you. Who are the

  others in my story? Who are they now?”

  The light vanished, and she sank back to sit on the

  floor.

  “Don’
t leave me in the darkness again,” she moaned.

  “Now I know what evil it holds.”

  ***

  Lifting her head off the damp floor, Darcy strained

  her ears. There it was again. Some sound other than the

  drip of water and the skitter of what she guessed were

  rats.

  She sat as light edged around what must be a door. It

  was too bright. She covered her eyes and moaned.

  Laughter, triumphant laughter, filled the space around

  her. She blinked, forcing her eyes to adjust to the light. In

  disbelief, she stared at two men. Hastings and Reverend

  Fairfield, but not the well-dressed men she was accustomed

  to seeing. Both wore strange, flowing robes of what looked

  to be Egyptian cotton. Hastings wore some sort of circlet

  on his head, and the vicar had on a wig to make his blond

  hair as black as one born along the Nile.

  Slowly coming to her feet, she drew the ragged blanket

  over her shoulders. She was about to thank them for finding

  her yet again, but her words went unsaid when the vicar

  laughed again.

  He pointed to her and said, “There she is, Hastings.

  You see what she is wearing. She is not of this time or

  place.”

  Darcy looked down at herself. She was wearing no

  more than the seductive nightgown she had found waiting

  on her bed. With a gasp, she pulled the blanket around

  her, even though it was damp and filthy. She reached behind

  her back to pull her hair forward to drape over her, but

  found nothing.

  “See,” continued the vicar. “She may claim to have

  English blood, but she wears her hair tonight as the queens

  of Egypt have for centuries.”

  Darcy touched her cropped hair. “Did you do this?”

  “Yes.” Reverend Fairfield smiled. That smile might

  have turned many heads, but it only turned her stomach.

  “I did it all for Hastings.”

  “For Hastings?” She looked at Simon’s father.

  Hastings was weaving like a drunkard, and for a

  moment she feared he had swallowed whatever sleeping

  potion she had. Noticing his tremulous hands, she knew

  he was weak with whatever had caused his heart to betray

  him before. She hurried to him and led him to a bench she

  could see in the light from Reverend Fairfield’s lantern.

  “How are you faring?” she asked. “You shouldn’t be

  in this chilly place.”

  “I shall be doing fine soon.” He ran his hand along

  her waist. Through the blanket, she could barely feel his

  touch, but his eyes gleamed with lust.

  She stepped back. “Hastings, what are you doing?”

  “I told you,” Reverend Fairfield said, “she would be

  coy at first. That is their way.”

  “Whose way? Women?” she asked, facing him.

  “Yes, but the most coy, for they have the most to offer,

  are the handmaidens of Thoth.”

  Darcy gripped the blanket more tightly. Sure she had

  misunderstood him, she asked, “What are you talking

  about?”

  He reached beneath the blanket, grasping her arm when

  she would have backed away. He pulled out her pendant

  and dropped it onto her chest. “I’m talking about this.”

  “I repeat—What are you talking about?”

  “She truly is coy, Hastings. She knows what she has

  to give and she knows what she can withhold.”

  The old man wheezed, “But the time is wrong. You

  said when the moon waned and grew full again. By then,

  I’d be stronger.”

  “That was the plan until that virago swept down upon

  Rosewood Hall.” His mouth twisted.

  Knowing he spoke of Grandmother Kincaid, Darcy

  started to laugh. She halted when the vicar turned to her

  again. His eyes burned with a fanaticism she suspected

  had nothing to do with his living at the church in Halyeyn.

  She backed away, but he caught her arm again.

  He lowered his voice so it would not reach Hastings’

  ears. “You were safely cached away until your grandmother

  decided to call and drag you back beneath her thumb. I

  couldn’t have Lady Kincaid causing trouble and asking

  questions that would bring the law to Rosewood Hall, so I

  sent Hastings to have you released.”

  “Cached away? You—You—” she stammered. She had

  misjudged him. Not when she distrusted him earlier, but

  when she had forgiven him for his assistance in freeing

  her from the asylum. She steadied herself enough to say,

  “You sent me to the asylum!”

  With a smile that never should have been on the face

  of a clergyman, he said, “You needed to stay in Halyeyn,

  and you were determined to leave as soon as the manuscript

  was finished.”

  “You bribed me to leave.”

  “Knowing that you’d be stubborn and stay.” He

  chuckled. “That was my one error. Instead of trying to

  chase you away, I should have offered you a place in my

  household.”

  “In your household? Doing what?”

  His smile became taut. “What you have done for Simon

  beyond typing his manuscript.”

  “You can’t believe I would have come to your house

  to—to—” She could not even give voice to the abhorrent

  thought.

  “I knew you’d decline, because you fancied Simon

  being in love with you, even though I was honest when I

  told you that he’ll never care for anyone again. Putting

  you in the asylum guaranteed you wouldn’t leave before

  you were needed.”

  Astounded by his treachery, she asked, “Needed for

  what?”

  The vicar spoke loudly enough for the old man to hear.

  “Listen to her, Hastings.” He circled her like a cat taunting

  its prey, and she turned to keep facing him. “She knows

  very well she has sucked every bit of life out of your son.”

  “Where is Simon?” she asked again.

  He leaned toward her, lowering his voice again so she

  could barely hear it over Hastings’ wheezing. “He’s dead.”

  “Dead?” she gasped. “What did you do to him?”

  “Me?” He pressed his hand over his chest. “You’re

  the handmaiden of Thoth. You decide which person shall

  live and which shall die.”

  She grasped his arm. “Stop the nonsense! Tell me what

  has happened to Simon. What have you done to him?”

  Again he prowled around her, his smile broadening.

  “You’re wasting time, Darcy. Not Darcy, though, is it?

  What was that name you told me she has, Hastings?”

  “Meskhenet,” he choked out, pressing his hand to his

  chest.

  Darcy took a step toward him, and Reverend Fairfield

  halted her again. Trying to shake his hand off her arm, she

  ordered, “Release me! Hastings is obviously ill.”

  “You’ll stay where you are.”

  “How can you say that? He is ill. Do you want your

  uncle—”

  “Hastings is my father.”

  “Father?” She wondered how many more surprises

  awaited her tonight.

  He laughed coldly. “You look
surprised, Darcy. I

  thought Simon would have told you the truth.”

  “How could he? He believes you’re his cousin.”

  “He believed. I told you, Darcy. He’s dead.”

  Her fingers tightened on the blanket, unwilling to

  believe him. She would know in her heart if Simon was

  dead, wouldn’t she? “What have you done to him?”

  “I told you, Darcy. He’s dead. It’s unwise to blow out

  a gaslight and not turn the gas off.”

  She edged back away from him as she shivered with

  sobs. The vicar’s triumphant smile was one she had seen

  before—when she read of Usi claiming the title of Pharaoh.

  If she held the ka of Meskhenet, Simon must be, without

  question, Kafele, for he had been wondrously familiar from

  the very moment she saw him.

  Another shudder cramped through her. Andrew

  Fairfield had within him the evil ka of Usi, the chief

  architect. That left for Hastings only Pharaoh. The gullible,

  trusting Pharaoh who had not seen the serpent within his

  garden. She wanted to denounce the vicar, but she did not

  want to betray what had happened here before he opened

  the door.

  But one question she had to ask. So much that had

  happened in the past was happening again. “Have you been

  poisoning Hastings?” she asked. “Have you been the

  reason for his failing health?”

  “Poison?” the vicar asked with what appeared to be

  genuine amazement. “Why would I poison my own

  father?”

  “That is a question you can answer far better than I

  can.” She would not believe his protestations. There had

  been too much talk of poison, both in the past and in this

  time.

  Reverend Fairfield went to Hastings and drew the old

  man to his feet. “She took the life force from your son

  when she became his lover. The scales must be balanced.

  Take that life—that young and healthy life—back from

  her.”

  “How?”

  “Hastings!” she cried. “Don’t listen to him!”

  The vicar gripped her hair, twisting it so tightly around

  his hand a moan of pain burst out of her. Tearing the blanket

  from her shoulders, he grasped the pendant. “See this,

  Hastings. She wears the symbol of Thoth, the god who

  possesses the Book of Thoth with its spell for eternal life.

  She has been sent here for you.”

  “Simon . . .” He coughed.

 

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