by Nina Bruhns
And most frightening of all… What would become of Seth?
She shouldn’t care. After all, he obviously didn’t care what happened to her.
But she did. She cared desperately.
The terrible image of a wickedly curved blade slicing through Seth’s neck stole through her mind, making her want to cry out in protest.
She shook off the awful visual. That wasn’t going to happen. It couldn’t.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted in the great hall that led to the residential wing where they were. Shouting and people running, the sound of metal clanging.
Alarm surged through her. “Now what?”
“Wait here,” Rhys said. “I’ll go see.”
“No way,” Joss and Gillian said in unison. “We’re coming with you.”
Rhys frowned, but nodded, and they slipped cautiously out of the rooms and into the corridor, running swiftly in the direction of the great hall. Chaos greeted them.
Rhys grabbed Joss’s arm, along with Gillian’s, and dragged them behind a giant flowering plant in a nearby alcove. “Stay out of sight. I’ve been expecting this,” he said.
“What’s going on?” Gillian asked anxiously.
“Shahin and his warriors must have been spotted getting ready to attack Petru.”
“To rescue Seth!” Joss said breathlessly. “Thank God.”
“And you,” Rhys said. “They won’t leave without you either, Josslyn.”
“Me?” Joss asked, astounded. “But I’m—”
“You are their leader’s prophesied consort,” he said somberly. “And Nephtys has foreseen that you are destined to save Khepesh.”
“What? That’s insane. What could I possibly—”
But she was never able to finish the question. A troop of tall warriors ran past the alcove, their boots tramping in unison like the thundering beat of drums. They wore golden tunics and greaves, with golden Uraeus circlets around their heads, huge curved swords at their sides and grimly determined looks on their faces. There were women as well as men, just as frightening. Some shifted from their human forms as they ran, changing to falcons, panthers, desert wolves and an array of other animals.
Joss, Gillian and Rhys shrank farther behind the sheltering foliage of their hiding place. Rhys twirled his fingers in a motion around them.
“A spell of protection,” Gillian whispered. “So they don’t find us.”
By the time the guards had passed, Joss’s heart was thundering nearly as loudly as their receding boots. Fear clawed through her in cold talons. She didn’t even want to imagine the coming battle.
She thought of Gemma and the devastation her sister would feel if any harm came to Shahin while rescuing Seth.
“I need to find Nephtys,” she whispered urgently as they cautiously emerged. “Someone has to stop this madness!”
Rhys glanced at her. “I’m not disagreeing. But this madness has been going on for a long, long time, Lady Josslyn. How do you propose to stop it?”
“I don’t know,” she said as determination firmed her resolve. “But someone sure as hell has to try.”
My lord!
Seth’s eyes sprang open at the urgent hail. He glanced around, expecting to see that Sheikh Shahin had somehow been able to sneak into Petru and his room.
His captain wasn’t there. But he must be close, to use the magic of their connection.
Seth opened his mind and reached out to him. Shahin, what is it? Where are you?
His answer was swift. The warriors of Khepesh are approaching Petru, ready to do battle. Can you escape to join us?
At the request, Seth felt a wave of apathy roll over him, thick and heavy, like Nile mud. What was the point of escape? Or of doing battle?
Shahin, have your warriors turn back. Save yourselves. Don’t let the shemsu perish for naught. The war for supremacy is over, my friend. We have lost, once and for all.
Shahin’s retort came sharp and swift. Turn back? Are you mad? We haven’t even engaged in battle yet!
Seth scowled. That is an order! his mind shouted.
Don’t be an ass, my lord! By the staff of Osiris! Haru-Re must have bespelled you to speak like this.
Shock hit Seth squarely in the chest, both at the rudeness of his captain and by the traitorous suggestion that his mind and will had been compromised. The insolence of the man!
He raked both hands through his hair. The sheikh was a meddling old woman! Bespelled? Seth-Aziz? The thought was patently absurd! He was a demigod! Much too powerful for such an insidious magical—
Good god.
A sudden dark doubt flew across the periphery of Seth’s mind.
Or…was it possible? Could Shahin be right?
No. Not a chance.
And yet, all at once something did not feel quite right about his overly pessimistic attitude. Not when looked at logically. Even in the bleakest days of his past, days that had inspired the poem that still spoke so eloquently of despair, even then he’d been moved to action—if only to end his life.
But then again, this was not a situation he’d faced before. Who was to say it wasn’t normal for a vanquished and defeated man to become morose and indifferent?
Shahin’s thoughts pleaded with him. Shift out of the spell, my lord, and come to us. Khepesh needs her leader!
The captain was wrong. Nothing would save them now. Nothing. And there wasn’t a thing Seth could do about it.
But Shahin’s urging was strong. And…when it came right down to it, what harm would it do to shift? The poison in Seth’s blood would actually dissipate faster, he knew, although he had ignored that fact in favor of…well, feeling sorry for himself.
He blinked. And sighed. Fine. He’d shift, just to prove Shahin wrong.
Still, Seth had to force himself to climb down from the comfortable bed, arguing with his infernal ba the whole way.
Though it went against the warning that screamed from every cell of his mind, he said the spell and shifted his body into that of an ordinary tomcat.
And in doing so, he saved himself.
The instant he shifted, the effects of the poison evaporated from his blood and his belly, and the all-encompasing fog of self-pity lifted from his mind. It was like the blinding of the sun suddenly being extinguished.
His mind snapped to attention, immediately horrified at the resigned pessimism that had permeated his whole being just seconds before.
Damn the eyes of Osiris!
Shahin had been right!
The priestess must have stirred a spell of mental defeat into her arrow poison, along with the painful physical sickness that it had spread through the bones and tissues of his body. The elixir she’d given him had dulled the excruciating pain but had done nothing to counter the disturbing fatalism that had taken over his mind and turned him into a mewling coward. And he had felt sorry for the bitch, having to serve Haru-Re!
Thank Isis Shahin had pushed him into shifting.
More furious than ever, Seth sent his thoughts spinning to Shahin. I’m on my way. Tell me your plans.
As he listened to his captain, Seth keenly felt the powerful, roiling energy of the sheikh and his army of Khepesh warriors as they approached Petru. Undoubtedly, the enemy felt it, as well.
Luckily, there was something he could do about that.
Seth summoned a burst of power and called out to his element, summoning a massive wave of chaos and focusing it on the inhabitants of Petru, throwing the shemsu of Re-Horakhti into a tailspin of confusion and giving Shahin the chance to get his warriors into position around the palace.
And then, Seth shifted once more. He would have vastly preferred to change into Mihos Rukem and go through the halls of the palace on a rampage, snapping off the heads of Ray’s guards with his mighty teeth and jaws. But that would have been pushing his luck.
This time he shifted to a dragonfly, another of his favorite forms. Haru-Re was given to more dramatic figures. He’d been known to shift into huge and fantastical c
reatures and mythical beasts, a feat of fairly amazing magic. But Seth preferred more natural ba forms.
Thus, as a dragonfly, he flew quickly through the halls, unnoticed in the chaos. He saw that his element had been called just in time. The forces of Petru had been mobilizing, rushing to their assigned battle stations to defend the palace against Shahin’s attack. With the chaos that had erupted, it would take them ages to reorganize and put up an effective defense, let alone mount an offensive attack to defeat the Khepesh forces.
Seth thought briefly of making a detour to collect Rhys, but decided against it. Lord Rhys had chosen an elegant but impractical Set-animal—a black stallion. There was no way he could make it out of the palace unseen.
Besides, Seth needed Rhys here to protect Josslyn—which his former master steward would do with his life. Of that Seth had no doubt. Rhys had been his best friend for more than a century and knew him better than anyone, save Nephtys. Rhys would not have missed seeing Seth’s true feelings for the oldest Haliday sister, despite the necessity he’d felt to reject and distance himself from her. Seth’s growing feelings of love and respect for Josslyn had even shone through the miasma of his spell-induced depression. Rhys would know he must do anything required to protect her.
But thinking of Josslyn, Seth could not help himself. Before he left, he desperately needed to see her one last time. Just in case he wasn’t granted the opportunity again. And he had to know that she and the others were safe. They would not be affected by his element of chaos, but that didn’t mean they weren’t in danger from Haru-Re or his warrior guards.
On gossamer wings he flew straight through the palace to Rhys and Gillian’s quarters, where he assumed they’d taken her.
She wasn’t there.
No one was. The rooms were empty.
His heartbeat sped. Where had she gone? Had Ray taken her as a hostage against the coming battle?
Shahin’s voice cut through his worry. My lord, where are you? The army awaits your arrival. We mustn’t delay much longer to keep our advantage.
Seth groaned inwardly. I’m on my way. Five minutes.
He had to find her!
He shot through the grand corridors, where a tumult of disorder still reigned, and on to the palace temple where Nephtys’s quarters would be located. He did a hurried search and again found no one in their rooms. The priestesses and acolytes of Re-Horakhti were all in the inner courtyard running around like wild-women, feeling the bite of his chaos and the disturbing energy of his armies gathering outside the walls.
At last he found Nephtys.
She was kneeling quietly before a large scrying bowl, peering into the water with a look of utter concentration. He circled her head twice to get her attention. She finally looked up. He stopped to hover like a tiny helicopter in front of her face. He didn’t have time to shift back and forth to speak to her. He just wanted her to understand what was happening.
After the briefest moment of puzzlement at the sudden appearance of a dragonfly in her room, her brow cleared and she smiled.
“Seth!” She raised her hand and he alighted for three heartbeats on her upturned palm. “Oh, thank the goddess! I knew you’d come back to yourself,” she said in a hushed, joyful voice. “Go now. Escape this place before Ray discovers you’ve gone! Somehow I’ll get Josslyn to you at Khepesh. I promise.”
He let out a silent curse. Nephtys seemed utterly clueless to the danger that surrounded her!
How had his sister not felt the electric tension in the air and the impending clash of armies? How did she not sense the life-and-death battle that loomed on the horizon, which must surely spell the final end to either Ray or himself?
He swiftly cast a spell to allow his voice to be heard by her. “Nephtys! We are on the brink of war! You must protect yourself!”
Her face refused to cloud. She lifted her hand and spoke softly to him, her eyes dancing with a happiness that was surely destined to turn to profound grief in just a few short hours. “It’s okay. Ray told me he loves me! I am to be his true wife, the high priestess of Petru. Oh, hadu, I’m so happy! And I swear I’ll get your Josslyn to you soon, so you can feel the same joy in your heart as I.”
Stunned, all Seth’s heart could feel at that news was profound distress.
“You don’t understand! I am on my way to join with the warriors of Khepesh, to—” He halted. He could not say it aloud. To tell her that he would do everything in his power to kill Haru-Re in the coming fight.
Though, it wasn’t at all certain that he would succeed….
If Seth were to die, what would happen to Josslyn? If he and Shahin and Rhys were all killed, and she was left with no one to defend her against the harsh despotism of Haru-Re, would Nephtys still honor her promise to protect her?
And what if Seth did succeed in killing Haru-Re? Nephtys had carried her bitter need for revenge against her perceived betrayer for five thousand years before this sudden reversal. If, come morning, the man she had never stopped loving was dead, would she feel a need to retaliate against the brother who’d killed him, taking it out on the woman Seth had so unwillingly come to love?
My lord. Shahin’s voice reached out to him urgently. We are about to ride.
Damnation!
“Find Josslyn,” Seth ordered Nephtys. “Get out of Petru and hide yourselves somewhere safe until the outcome of this battle is decided. Please, my sister. I would not have either of you come to harm.”
“No!” Nephtys said in alarm. “You mustn’t fight! There is no need for this war now! Ray has changed. He’ll listen to me, I swear!”
Seth let out a string of oaths. How could she be so damn naïve? Haru-Re was a man obsessed, and nothing less than total domination over Khepesh would satisfy him.
Seth-Aziz! My lord! The enemy is gathering to charge. You must come now or be left behind!
He didn’t have time for arguing with Nephtys!
And he still hadn’t found Josslyn, curse the blood of Sekhmet! There was nothing for it. He must trust Rhys to take care of her.
“Nephtys, I beg you, find Josslyn and flee this place,” he urged. “Before it’s too late.” Then he regretfully took wing and flew out through the open window.
“Hadu, come back! Don’t do this!” Nephtys’s voice shouted after him. “He loves me! He loves me!”
With his sister’s desperate admonishments ringing in his ears, Seth shot past the garden, soaring over the outer wall of Petru and out into the vast burning desert where his faithful followers awaited him.
I’m here, Seth told Shahin as he approached the host.
Silently he recited the incantation to turn his dragonfly body back to human. Without slowing, he conjured a massive warhorse the color of midnight to carry him into the ranks of his men. Robing himself in the magical black tunic and breeches and flowing scarlet bisht of the high priest of Khepesh, he wanted to look every inch the powerful demigod of Set-Sutekh, God of Darkness and Lord of Chaos, Ruler of the Hot Winds and Guardian of the Night Sky as he galloped into the heart of his army.
At long last, he would fight the final battle for supremacy between darkness and light in the land of Egypt.
And Seth-Aziz intended to win.
Chapter 19
The sun was just setting as the Khepesh warriors of Set-Sutekh drew their rearing mounts into long ranks along the western horizon on the dunes above the palace of Petru.
Fingers of the blackest blackness stretched greedily over their silver-helmeted heads, painting over the ever-darkening indigo sky as though reaching out to snuff the remnants of light that still glowed over the palace of their enemy. It was like the hand of the god squeezing the life from his rival, sending the earth below to float unconscious into the calm tranquility of perpetual night.
Were they to prevail in the coming battle, Seth-Aziz wondered if that would really have happened—perpetual darkness—had the ancient gods still made Earth their abode. Somehow, he doubted even winning this endless war in the name
of Set-Sutekh would turn the light to dark. Not now, living as they all were in the age of technology, logic and one God.
Was that blasphemy?
As Set-Sutekh’s high priest, charged with keeping the rituals of the per netjer alive and well in Egypt down through the ages, Seth had never before doubted the god he had served so faithfully for so long. Indeed, he did not doubt him now.
Darkness and chaos were the great rulers of the universe. How could anyone dispute that? In the absence of all else, of any kind of control or imposition of an outside force or order, darkness and chaos prevailed. Always.
Seth loved the darkness, reveled in its mystery, wrapped himself in its anonymity, was comforted by its constancy.
Chaos, however, was a more difficult taskmaster. Seth had a deep, instinctive need to control the chaos of life on earth. To outward appearances, Khepesh might give the illusion of anarchy, its shemsu free to do anything they wanted, pursue any lifestyle they wished, so long as they served the god in the way they had promised when joining the per netjer. But in fact, Seth-Aziz ruled the palace with an iron hand. He did not tolerate any behavior that fell outside their long-established—albeit very liberal—set of rules.
No. Not blasphemy. Not at all.
Egypt had always been a land of contradictions. Of duality. Of opposites. She embraced them. As did Seth-Aziz.
As a native of this land, those things had never bothered him. Nor the shemsu he ruled. Those immortals who’d not been born here had chosen this place and this life, often because of those very qualities. Many worshipped other gods, or believed in the One. It mattered not, for darkness and chaos were part of them all. All but the force of pure light they had come to battle.
But Seth wondered now, for the very first time, what would happen to this world when this war was over and a single side—one dark, one light—had claimed victory over the other. Would one aspect come to dominate the world, plunging it into a time of monochromatic political ideals and imposed philosophical conformity? Was that really a good thing?
