24 Bones

by Stewart, Michael F.

  Sam stood motionless. And then, she tore the mask away and screamed: “You will take her place.” With a flick of her wrist, the ankh blade shot through the air.

  The knife broke through a rib and pierced David on his left side, embedding to its loop hilt. Sam’s robe billowed as she leaped and followed her mother into the black pit. Trand lunged for his former pupil, relinquishing Faris’s leash, but missed. He called after her.

  The sanctum collapsed into silence.

  David reached into the Void, and it swallowed him. The ankh blade had struck precisely where, in any normal man, the heart would be.

  Freed of his handler’s grip, Faris looked to the chamber’s two exits: the entry to the inner sanctum and the pit through which the women had fallen. Eyes beat down from the balconies and men began to point and exclaim. Faris stayed motionless, with every muscle flexed.

  David choked in short spasms. Gurgles sounded with his attempts to breathe.

  A nagging guilt tore at Faris’s will to escape. The woman in the pit had helped him once. He was sure she had been the one to catch him, and her mother who showed him how to escape. The inky hole stared up like the pupil of an eye.

  Over shouts of surprise and Trand’s calls, laughter rolled. The pharaoh shook as he guffawed. When the chamber quieted to listen, David’s rasps accompanied him. Faris peered at the blade buried at the man’s heart. The pharaoh’s mirth dwindled as he walked to David’s side. The carnal glow of the pharaoh’s gaze elicited shivers that traveled from Faris’s neck to the base of his spine.

  David’s head lolled, and he opened his eyes. When he stared down at the black ankh, his eyes widened, and then the irises rolled back into his skull.

  “Release him, dwarf,” Pharaoh ordered. After a final look into the pit, Trand moved to unlock David’s chains.

  The pharaoh loomed over David, who lay prostrate. Faris breathed the pharaoh’s musty scent, the smell of a crypt. The Void-eyes, his thin skin; Pharaoh stood embalmed in Void.

  “It’s him!” Zahara, attached to the throne, half-stood, stretching as much as her collar would allow. Her oiled skin shone blue. “He is Seth’s chosen one,” she shouted.

  Only David’s gasps for breath permeated the silence. Pharaoh shut his eyes and placed a hand over David’s forehead.

  Faris sucked in a deep breath and reached to the Void. In its shadow world, the area that surrounded David was a vacuum; the Void consumed him, and it dragged at Faris. A thick swathe of power sheathed David. David, the man, was a film that remained shrouded in nothingness.

  Faris retreated as he lost his grip, the Void collapsing upon him. Before he severed his connection, however, he sensed another, someone who tapped the Fullness, someone below, someone in the pit. Faris cut his connection. Had the companions come to save him? He dared hope.

  The pharaoh’s eyes opened, and in them paternal pride glistened. David shuddered and contorted. The pharaoh clasped David’s arm and paused. The neck of David’s robe had slid from his shoulder and revealed the mark of the Shemsu Hor: It was upside down.

  “The chosen one of Seth,” Pharaoh roared and lifted his hands to the balcony. “Seth has marked his beast.”

  “Seth’s beast, Seth’s beast, Seth’s beast.” A chant rose.

  “Seth has blessed his followers indeed!” Pharaoh bellowed. “The traitor has martyred the chosen one. Yet the chosen one lives—the prophesied beast.”

  Faris gave a strangled cry. The beast was the embodiment of Seth, a title not even the pharaoh had dared take. When evil did what was right, it was most dangerous.

  The chamber’s roar deafened him, and Faris swayed on the pit’s ledge.

  “Re riseth,” Faris cried suddenly.

  And the dark companion threw himself in.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  The cavern had formed naturally. The only exception was the precisely cut square in its ceiling through which Sam and her mother had fallen.

  Stalagmites rose in corrugated spears from the floor. Some grasped their stalactite mothers above and formed coarsely grained pipes like the ribs of a yellow dragon. Sam had flopped into a shallow pool the shape of a stomach. The limestone terraces layered the rim like miniature mountain farms. Her shoulder had struck a round stone at the bottom of the pool when she fell, and she massaged the numbness from the muscles as she stood.

  She waggled her head. The hand that had held the ankh knife trembled. The scent of rancid meat broke through her water-clogged senses, reminding her into whose lair they had tumbled. She stared about wildly.

  “Mother,” she called.

  The shouts and yells of confusion in the Temple of Seth were distant. Water roared, thundering somewhere in the darkness. A cold hand fell on her shoulder, and she whirled, splashing, to look into Tara’s relieved face. Tara’s eyes didn’t stare into Sam’s, blinded by the extremely dim light.

  Sam winced as the hand squeezed her injured shoulder. They hugged, shivering, and tears fell upon her cheeks. At first, she thought her mother was crying, but then realized that they were her own tears, hot and salty on her lips.

  Sam fought the urge to sag into her mother’s arms. It had been so long, but she still did not understand why her mother had abandoned her. She pulled back from the embrace.

  “What have you done, Sam?” Tara asked. “Why have you killed yourself? You doom us all.”

  A boulder toppled somewhere in the white noise of water.

  Sam peered between the cave’s random fangs. Splintered bones and cracked skulls lay strewn like nutshells. Beyond the stalactites, Seth’s pet, Sobek, stalked.

  Sam was glad for her mother’s blindness. Crocodiles have explosive speed and could reach velocities of thirty miles per hour. If Sam and her mother ran, they would be caught.

  Sobek was almost thirty feet long and five feet wide, its scales the color of the bones scattered beneath it. The girth gave Sobek the countenance of a dragon. Heavy plate armored its hide. The pale coloring contrasted starkly against the red mouth that languidly opened to display a jaw studded with a double row of spiked teeth. Bits of flesh hung from its lips. A heavy gold ring curved through each nostril, another protruded at the brow of the right eye.

  Sam had once watched Trand wrestle a ten-foot Nile crocodile, holding its mouth shut while he straddled the space behind its forelimbs. All Sam needed to do was wrap her arms around Sobek’s jaws and hold them closed. Forever. Sam gave a rare smile.

  Sobek curled around a thick stalagmite’s trunk and rested its snout on a crop of stone. Snorts disturbed the river rocks below.

  “What is it, Sam?” Tara asked, her mouth at Sam’s ear.

  “It’s Sobek, Mother. We need to reach higher ground.” A boulder protruded from a stalagmite grove. Sam considered the temporary reprieve while she sought a better solution. The cavern was too large, however, and she couldn’t see through the stalagmite forest.

  “Sobek,” Tara repeated, fear shaking her voice. “I’m sorry. I love you, daughter.”

  “Let’s get out of here first.” Warmth filled Sam’s chest, and her eyes blurred. The physical chill of the water washed away her mother’s words as they waded to the side of the pool.

  “No, Sam, if we are to die, I need you to know.”

  “I am sure you love me,” Sam replied slowly. “But I need you to hold on to my sleeve and stop talking.”

  Sobek’s snout raised and sniffed at the air in great grunts. Gusts of putrid breath misted over them. Sam and Tara shook, standing together on the rim of the pool.

  “No, Sam, you don’t understand.” Tears streamed down Tara’s cheeks.

  Sam gritted her teeth.

  “I need to explain why you’re a Shemsu Seth,” her mother continued.

  “Quiet, Mother. I know why.”

  Tara had b
een explaining since Sam was a baby that she was evil, softening it by saying that evil didn’t mean bad. Up until recently, Sam had thought she understood the difference. True evil was a force, a necessary counterbalance to good. Petty evil was purposeless, a molester, a bully, a wife beater. She had never fit the mold of either, however, never felt accepted. Only Trand and Abu were family. Had been family. Her gaze rested on an eviscerated torso, not yet cleaned of meat.

  Sobek loosed a glottal chumpf.

  “No, you’re not evil.” Her mother groped for Sam’s hand, and Sam snatched it.

  “Let’s go, really slow.” Sam pulled at her mother’s arm and Tara tentatively stepped forward, sidling with Sam toward the boulder.

  “You never were evil, Sam. We did it to protect you, to hide you, like Isis hid Horus in the papyri swamp to be raised by another.”

  Sam gave no indication of hearing, though her heart fluttered; Sobek placed its forelimb a step toward them. Talons, eight-inch curved blades, raked against the stone. Sam guided her mother backward a few steps before she continued to close the distance to the boulder, just a dozen feet away.

  “You understand, Sam?”

  Sam shook her head in the darkness. “Not evil,” she confirmed. “When I say run, sprint in the direction I point you. In four steps there’s a jumble of rocks to climb, I’ll grab you then and push from behind.” They closed the distance by another talon length.

  Sobek charged. He shot forward like a Chinese dragon, body undulating, jaw clashing.

  “Run!” Sam shoved her mother toward the boulder. Tara sprinted, hit a low hanging stalactite, and stumbled. Sam froze and faced the giant. Suddenly, Sobek stopped, its snort gusting across Sam’s face, and then it turned away.

  A false charge.

  Sam’s heart throbbed so hard her eyes hurt. Sam had an understanding of animals. A hippopotamus would false charge to test its aggressor before an attack. Paralyzing fear had its advantages; if she had run, she would be dead.

  Tara had recovered and found the bottom of the rock slope, but she skirted rather than climbed it.

  As Sobek repositioned, Sam hurried to her and took her elbow. They scaled the boulder together.

  At its height, Sam stared down.

  Sobek’s head rested on the first third of the rock jumble. She hadn’t heard him approach. The boulder didn’t seem so high anymore. Sam snatched a nearby stone and launched it at the crocodile. It struck squarely on his snout. Sobek stared blandly.

  “Okay, so I don’t understand.” Her mother was right; this was the last opportunity they had. “Why did you abandon me?”

  “Sam, when you were born, I was a postulant with the sisters.” Sam nodded, her eyes stinging. “I had a dream the day of your birth.” Sam’s stare grew sceptical, but her mother couldn’t see in the dark cavern. “I saw you grown. I knew it was you. You were in a chamber.”

  Below them, the massive reptile shifted forward and sank into the rubble before it hauled its bulk higher. If it used its tail as leverage, it could reach them. Sam moved to stand between Sobek and her mother.

  “Your chest was cracked open, ribs spread wide, but you weren’t dead, I could see your heart. It was still beating. It didn’t pump like a regular heart though, it pulsed with light, all else was shadow.”

  Sobek wouldn’t warn twice. Sam half-listened to her mother and faced Sobek. She knelt and reached with the Void to the stalactites, trying to break one, to send it tumbling onto the head of the creature. Her connection was strange, weak, and she felt mentally battered. Although the connection furnished needed physical strength, it wouldn’t be enough.

  “What do you mean, Mother?” Sam demanded above the water’s roar.

  Sobek’s muscles bunched.

  “I didn’t understand, but an older woman, another sister who also had a child, was sent to guide me. A nun, even an initiate, with a child was uncommon and obviously frowned upon, but not rare at my convent. I expected the worst: that I’d have to give you away for adoption. But the sister was kind and told me how special you were and how special her child was and that the dream was meaningful.

  “You have a purpose. I was soon to make my solemn confession and commit myself to God, a marriage of sorts.” Tara gestured with her arms and Sobek’s black orbs twitched in time. “The sister told me that I could not complete my vows, that I must rear you, but that I must one day give you up to evil. Of course, I didn’t understand. She explained that only in the shroud of evil, the darkness in the dream, would you remain hidden from them. I didn’t believe her, not until she confided in me her plans for her son—”

  Sam thrust her mother off the boulder. A part of her wished to throw her into Sobek’s serrated jaws, but instead she tried to save a few last moments. Even as she leapt after her, she wondered whether she had ever known her anyway. Pain shot down her back as she landed and scraped along a thick stalagmite.

  Tara sobbed on the ground, while groping in the darkness for her daughter. With all Sam’s remaining strength, she lifted her mother over her shoulder. Sam didn’t dare look back for Sobek. She bridged the brow of brain rock. A torrent of water raged below. Before she leapt, she paused. The end of the river’s flow was darkness. Crocodiles were better swimmers than runners; any head start was a false advantage. She craned her neck toward Sobek, but he was gone. She turned full circle. Something thrashed in a pool.

  “Sam,” her mother began.

  “Shh, Mother, there’s a man. He has drawn Sobek’s attention. We’ve time to find a way out.”

  “Tara?” came the man’s thin shout.

  “No, Sam, I saw him before I fell. The Shemsu Seth was keeping him as a slave.” Her tone threatened. “You must save him.”

  Sam sensed a sudden powerful access to the Void and denied herself its draw. “I must what?”

  Sobek exited the shadows. The monster lay between them and the sputtering man. Sobek regarded its prey, head swaying like the swing of a scythe.

  “Tara?” the man shouted. Sobek turned to him.

  “Faris!” Tara exclaimed. Sobek shifted its gaze to Sam.

  Sam judged the option of the water again.

  “Tara, where are you?” Sobek’s attention returned to Faris, who stood waist deep in water, arms outstretched.

  “No more speaking, Mother, Sobek is moving,” Sam ordered.

  “No, Sam, you must save him. You’re not evil. You’ve proven it. You saved me by sacrificing yourself. You’ve triumphed.”

  Faris started toward them and toward Sobek’s yawning mouth.

  The part of Sam that had jumped into the pit, the one who had pushed her mother up the boulder first and tackled her from it, stopped arguing.

  She had known as she stared down at the young children who played in the Sudan. She had known when she turned her back on them and searched for alternative bodies, heads of cadavers to sever, to bring back as trophies. She had known that she was not evil, but what then? Who was she, a woman who had murdered?

  Sobek’s tail wagged back and forth. The chain around the man’s neck chimed, dragging across rocks.

  Sam ran.

  She shouted: “Faris! Jump to the right. Now.”

  Faris leaped, but he leaped to his right. It was too late. Sobek’s mouth opened above Faris. Sam took two steps on the massive crocodile’s back and dove. Her weight was enough to slam down the upper portion of the jaw. The monster’s head and neck pinned Faris’s face inches from talons.

  Sobek thrashed with his tail. Shards of stalagmites sprayed. Sam held tight to the nose ring and pulled upward to take the weight off the slender man, whose body had wedged between the rocks. Muffled screams issued from beneath the crocodile. Faris reached out with a psychic whip of Void that sliced at whatever was in its path.

  “Faris, give me your leash
,” Sam shouted. “You must trust me.”

  Jammed between stone, under a dinosaur, and blind, Faris couldn’t laugh. Sam’s words, however, split the hysteria that had clouded his mind. He reined in his effort to fend off the creature and used the Void instead to stabilize himself. Despite his resistance to this Shemsu Seth, he paused. After falling down the pit, Faris had suffered perfect black, a cascade of sound, and the scent of moldering flesh. The reptilian mind he touched brimmed with primal hunger.

  Tara’s call had been a beacon. Little had he known that the blind led the blind.

  Faris reached tentatively out to Sam’s mind as she bucked atop Sobek’s head. When he touched her, he knew it was the same Shemsu Seth who had captured him the first time he had entered the City of the Dead.

  She hadn’t killed him then.

  Faris brushed the Void enough to see.

  “What do you want me to do, Shemsu Seth?” Faris tone carried an edge.

  “Do … you … still have … your leash?” Sam shot back. Her words bounced with Sobek’s gyrations. “Wrap it … ’round the jaw.”

  Faris mentally wagged his head back and forth. “I can’t reach,” he screamed. He strained for the chain at his neck, but one arm was caught beneath his side, and the fleshy underside of Sobek’s chin trapped the other. He attempted to slide his hand free. He maneuvered it an inch, but gave the inch back when he halted his efforts.

  “Give me the chain,” Sam demanded. Void knifed into Faris’s skull and punctuated her command. “I can’t hold on.”

  Sobek roared.

  Faris panted, chest crushed between rock and crocodile.

  “You must … when he bucks again.”

  Faris’s knuckles scraped against the rock. He punched at it, and the fist soon bled. The blood lubricated his hand and then his wrist as he fought. Sobek’s head rose. His hand shot above his shoulder and caught a link of chain. He held it up like a torch, half expecting fangs to clamp about his arm.