Victoria measured her words carefully, explaining the compromise, but made no mention of Caesarian’s fate. When she was done, the queen looked aghast.
“I cannot.” Her eyes were empty, her face, ashen.
“Cannot what?” Victoria asked. She held Cleopatra at arm’s length, studying her.
“Everything I have done has been for Egypt. How can I now allow it to be sliced at the throat and left to bleed unto death?”
Victoria clenched her teeth. “You attacked Rome, and on the seas, no less. You should have known well you were no match for them.”
Tears threatened the corner of Cleopatra’s eyes. “I had no choice.”
“There’s always a choice. I have taught you that much.”
Cleopatra’s face went red, then almost as quickly, white. “Indeed, we had a choice. Either we could fight and gamble on the small margin we might be victorious, or we could cede and watch as Roman wolves raved our family and our land. Antony … he thought, hoped if he could show himself a worthy adversary in battle, Octavian might compromise.”
“Fie upon Antony. If only you had listened to me when that drunkard landed on your shore.”
“Without him, Egypt would not have endured nearly as long as it did. I would not have endured!”
“To hell with Egypt!” Victoria retorted. “Everything I have done has been for your preservation, not for Egypt’s.”
“Why?”
Victoria shifted uncomfortably. “For the same reason you attacked Rome.”
Cleopatra only looked at her questioningly.
“I, too, face an awesome enemy, and you are the key to my victory,” she tried to clarify, without explaining at length.
Cleopatra turned away, crestfallen. “If there is one who could stand against Sekhmet, what hope has Cleopatra? Who?”
“One who is not of this world.”
“You speak of the gods.” Cleopatra swung her head toward the stream of retreating sunlight that fell from the open rafters above. “But for you, I have lost faith in the gods. For days, I have prayed to Isis. I have asked that, like Osiris, she recalls me once I have passed by Taut. So far, her only response is silence.”
A tear raced down Victoria’s face as she braced Cleopatra’s shoulders and locked her gaze to the queen’s. “Isis has taken her leave of this world. But I have not.”
“You cannot recall the dead.”
“You need not die.” Victoria pulled back her hand, taking her wrist to her mouth. When again she brought it away, a trickle of blood pooled on the olive skin, running over the heel of her hand. “I cannot rescue you from the land of the dead, but I can help keep you from it. Drink of me, my child, and I will give you my strength.”
“Sekhmet?”
Insistently, Victoria pushed her sanguineous offering to Cleopatra’s lips. “A deity is crafted in the fire of a blood offering. Take my blood into your body. Octavian will be unable to harm you. Walk with gods and transcend the boundaries of man.”
Unfortunately, Cleopatra stared in wide-eyed disbelief at Victoria’s wrist. “Antony is dead, and I am not fool enough to believe Octavian will let me live, no matter what promises he has made you. If you swear to me that my children will be cared for—”
“I do,” Victoria vowed. “I must.”
Cleopatra smiled. “Then what is this life to me? The best thing I can do for my children is to die, to let Egypt fall with me. Should I live, there will always be lions who see me as the hyena, waiting for them to turn their heads that I might swoop in, catch their prey, and feed it to my pups. Let it be so; I am lost.”
“You will not endure,” Victoria tried to argue. “He will torture you, humiliate you, and shame you in your children’s eyes. I have seen his mind. His ultimate victory will come when your own blood curses your name. I love you as though you were my own child, my sister. I cannot allow you to yield so willingly. I beg you,” she again pushed her wrist to the queen’s mouth, “drink.”
-Ψ-
As the queen bent her head down, closing her lips over the goddess’s offering, Shep’s mind slipped from Victoria’s grasp. The vision left him breathless, confused.
“I don’t understand,” he panted. “You didn’t ...”
“Kill her?”
Shep looked to Victoria, his heart torn as the tears ran down her face.
“I did, Shep. I tried to bond her, not knowing how beyond repair she already was. In my arrogance, I thought my diluted Altuani blood and my own determination could save her. Cleo was so broken before we even started, so ready to welcome death. Her two servants both offered their lives, and she took both, trying to draw enough strength. She couldn’t hold it within her. She died in my arms with Antony’s name on her lips.”
“But to say murder, Victoria. You didn’t mean for her to die.”
“Didn’t I?” Victoria sneered. “Who’s to say that she wasn’t right, that Octavian wouldn’t have honored our agreement? She might have lived to a ripe, old age.”
Shep shook his head. “But the suicide note … The infamous snake bites …”
Was he truly going to question that which now was made plain to him? To reject the answers to the very inquiries which had so long been the focus of his life’s work?
“I was the one who sent the suicide note to Octavian,” Victoria continued. “Making him believe she had stolen away his opportunity to parade her through Rome was the final tribute I could offer to Cleo’s legacy. The marks on her breast were not the result of a snake’s bite, but mine.”
His lip curled in disgust. “You bit Cleopatra? Why?”
“I needed her blood. In case I proved unequal to the task of protecting her bloodline, I needed to be certain a sample was preserved.”
It brought no understanding. “What’s so unique about Cleopatra’s blood that you had to keep a sample of it for two thousand years?”
“It doesn’t matter. My quest to maintain her lineage was a success.”
“And the Cleopatra statue Hector found in Mexico ...” Shep’s voice trailed off.
“I keep a tribute for each of my proxies. When I wanted to go home, I couldn’t bear to leave them behind. But that statue in particular, it’s different. Tell me, Shep, you’ve examined many an artifact in your day. Did you notice anything unusual about that one?”
Images of its alabaster surface crept across the inside of his eyelids. It couldn’t have been the simple fact of its remarkable place of discovery or its incredible state of preservation. Those were elements of juxtaposition. He pictured himself holding the object in his hand.
“It was lighter than I expected it to be,” he finally said.
Victoria’s eyes brightened. “Precisely. Because it is not a solid statue. It has a chamber hidden within.”
Now even Alex perked up. “What’s inside?”
Shep proved confused. “I thought you could read minds now. Can’t you just see in her head what it is?” He turned curious eyes to Victoria.
“Our telepathy doesn’t work that way,” she said to both of them. “Amongst ourselves, we only share that which we deliberately choose to. Our ability to intrude is exclusive to our interactions to humans.”
Shep exhaled. “Still, isn’t it obvious what’s inside the statue?” he asked his clueless brother-in-law. “Cleopatra’s blood. The snake bites—that was you collecting her blood. The real question is why?”
“As a backup plan.” Victoria’s hand disappeared inside her bag, pulling from it a moment later the very statuette that had sent Shep off on this adventure. “Dmitri and I have been playing our cat and mouse games for centuries. If he ever decided to take my life, I sought to preserve a proxy’s blood in case it could be used against him. The further in time humanity endured, the more natural evolution carried t
hem away from our origins as Altunai creations. In theory, any proxy I created over time would be weaker, not stronger. The gate requires two elements: an Altunai through which the power flows, and a Vessel whose blood is the dock—”
Shep interrupted. “He already told me all this, but I still don’t get what it has to do with Cleopatra’s bloodline. He’s the Altunai, you’re the Vessel.”
“And together they can open the gate,” Alex supplemented. “But any gate that can open, can also close.”
Victoria snapped, then pointed at Alex. “Precisely. As long as Dmitri is a part of the equation, we’re at the mercy of the Altunai. Once he’s opened the gate, I can close it, assuming the part of the Altunai.”
“And your Vessel?” Shep asked.
She turned eyes on Alex. “My proxies.” Victoria placed the statuette back in her bag and threw the strap over her head. “We must go. We need to get to Ankh Tawy and prepare before sundown.”
“Memphis?” Of course he knew the name for the ancient capital of the empire. “Why there?”
“That’s where the gate will open, at the temple of Osiris.”
“The bull god?” Shep asked. “Any particular reason?”
“It’s the Guardian’s temple,” Victoria answered, but it appeared to bring him no clarity. “Surely you’ve figured this out by now.”
“I think I’ve figured out enough on my own, so how about you spot me this one? The bull god, Apis, is more commonly known as Osiris. What does a god whose power is death have to do with a race of immortal beings?”
Victoria rolled her eyes. “If I am Sekhmet, who do you suppose Dmitri might be? Who was credited with staving off death, who could preserve the eternal life of a Vessel?”
He nearly fell over in shock. “Holy hell. The God of the Afterlife?”
Victoria nodded. “The one and only. Dmitri is Osiris.”
12.21.12
Chapter 28
Osiris paced the length of the temple, detesting the fact that he had been saddled with the bull iconography. Ra was known as the Sun, and Isis was an Eagle. A bull seemed so... common. He reminded himself that humanity was still in its agrarian phase, drawing knowledge from the interaction with nature. A bull wasn’t as bad as, say, a hippo. Seti was still pissed at being saddled with that iconography. Besides, he had bigger worries at the moment.
As the commander of the Western settlement, Osiris had been tasked with finding the Vessel, the key to any crop’s success. Odd, he thought, that Ra would choose him for the task. The prince still blamed Osiris for the failure of the last cultivation. It was only Osiris’s ability to manipulate Isis through flattery and appealing to her sensual nature that he’d even won a position on the away team.
Though he was confident his selection would be deemed acceptable, he was nervous. Firstly, he’d chosen a woman. He’d tried finding a male to fill the part, as was their standard practice, but no man could rival Tlalli’s suitability. The Olmec did not allow their women to learn hunting and writing. Tlalli had mastered both by mere observation. Her memory and ability to grasp higher level knowledge was nearly off the charts compared to her people. From the moment he saw her, there could be none other in his mind. The fact that he was completely enraptured with her hadn’t influenced his decision at all. Or so he told himself. So certain was he with his choice that Osiris bonded her without awaiting approval from either Ra, his superior, or the queen.
To his surprise, Isis took an immediate liking to Tlalli. Unfortunately, so had the queen’s brother. After Tlalli’s presentation, Osiris had taken her back to his temple to rest. Sometime during the night, he awoke to find her missing, Ra’s scent still fresh in her chamber. His blood boiled at the thought of Isis’s sycophant brother laying a hand on his woman. Osiris dispatched messengers, who returned word that the queen and her brother had simply wished to dine with the Vessel before the time for the isolation to ensue arrived. They would return Tlalli into Osiris’s care the next day as they took their leave for Altunatus.
Then next morning, as he waited by the gate for the royal siblings, a sick feeling grew in the pit of his stomach. When at last Isis and Ra arrived to his temple, they sought a word with Osiris before Tlalli was invited to join in his presence, melding her power with his in order to close the gate.
“My Queen?” Osiris queried, seeing the words dancing on her tongue but remaining unspoken.
She shifted about. The nervous mannerisms seemed foreign to her usually collected way. “I want to let you know, I’ve reached a decision, General Osiris.”
“Yes, Your Grace?”
Rolling up on her toes, the queen laced her fingers behind the Guardian’s neck and drew her lips to his. Osiris knew to play the part of the clandestine lover, though his heart wanted Tlalli’s kiss, not Isis’s.
“This will be the last time you are Guardian.”
“My Queen?” He felt his chest clench. Might he at last be released from her service? Perhaps if so, he could find a way to rid Tlalli of her fate to die upon the Altunai’s return.
She separated from him and walked toward the gate, which to the naked eye appeared as a patch of disrupted air between two columns at the entrance of his temple.
“With my brother’s blessing, I have decided that you shall be my King.” The exuberance with which she passed the declaration crackled through the air, and struck Osiris as though lightning. “All you need to do is but come away from this isolation in triumph. Secure our crop, and you shall rule at my side.”
A thousand thoughts torpedoed through his head. Osiris cautioned himself not to act rashly. While a year and a half would pass on Altunatus during the isolation, he had more than five thousand years by measure of Earth’s time to figure out a solution that would see him both victorious in his mission, and allow him to find a way to avoid a betrothal to the queen. But he must be cautious. To deny Isis’s order would mean not only his disgrace, but likely his own death back home. And of course, both assured Tlalli’s demise as well.
He schooled his features and hatched a smile across his face. “I will seek to make you proud, my Queen.”
Satisfied, the queen blew him a kiss on the breeze, sending him a mental reminder of their most recent liaison, and took her leave, leaving only Osiris and Ra.
“I’ve asked the human guards to deliver Tlalli to you so that you may seal the gate and dock it to her blood. She should be along in a moment.” The prince’s arrogance and disgust permeated his words.
“You should not have taken her without my permission,” Osiris spat back. “The Vessel is my responsibility. What possible need could you have for her?”
“Need?” The very word seemed to confuse Ra. “I had no need, but since when do I hesitate to take that which I desire? Oh, I do hope you will not find her too traumatized. I understand you have yet to teach her, but such ignorance about the abilities of her body!”
Osiris demanded his fists to unclench, but the self-satisfied smirk on Ra’s face told him he’d picked up on how difficult the Guardian was finding it to keep his temper under wraps. No matter that the queen favored the Guardian, after the debacle of the last colony, an attack on the prince would have the whole government demanding his head.
Ra continued, “Of course, I’m talking of her abilities as a Vessel. So much I had to demonstrate for her. But after our night together, I think you’ll find she’s more than able to handle anything else you can impart.”
Ra flashed his jade eyes, a trait unique to the royal bloodline, daring Osiris to take the bait.
“What have you done?”
Ra leaned in closely, whispering into Osiris’s ear. “So she asked to bond to you by the bed? I’ve never understood why you gave them a choice, but now I see how exciting an experience it is when they want to be taken. Enjoy the silence, Osiris.”
-Ψ
-
His chest throbbed where the bullet had been pulled out the evening before. The pain from the wound, however, was nothing compared to the ache in his heart. Tlalli did not love him, she’d said. He supposed he didn’t deserve it. He was part of the system that would soon come back to destroy her world. If all he could give her in humanity’s final days were the lives of the ones she did care for, at least that was in his power. When he’d seen José raise the gun toward the melee, even knowing how fine a marksman the Argentine was, he couldn’t take the chance it would hit either Shep or Alex. He dove and intercepted it just in the nick of time.
It hadn’t been until she’d ported away with her two lovers that he felt the absence of the amulet’s energy. He wasn’t sure how it had happened; his eyes had been on her the whole time. Which meant one of the other two must have made off with it. Was she planning on opening the gate herself? Would she try to keep the gate from opening at all? She’d kill herself in the process. He wasn’t sure what her plan was, but for his part, Tlalli wasn’t going to do anything to take on the Altunai High Council without him.
His plane touched down on Egyptian soil at 4:48 a.m. on December 21st. Other than the pilot, he’d brought no one else with him. He had enough human blood on his hands without leading the soldiers he employed and respected to their doom. The moment the gate opened, Dmitri would again be able to wield the power of his home planet, and he had very definite plans for that power … which included leaving Ra dead, and Tlalli safe.
Even if Tlalli did not love him, even if she did love another, he would still be her Guardian. As Dmitri felt the warmth of sunlight fall over him, a little voice told him this would be the last sunrise he would ever see.
He was going to die today.
12.21.12: The Vessel (The Altunai Annals) Page 21
