Trafalgar and Boone and the Books of Breathing

by Geonn Cannon

Dorothy shook her head. “We cannot allow ourselves to start down that road. Jumping from one body to another for strictly cosmetic reasons? It’s far too dangerous to allow something like that to become the norm. And think of the criminal potential, as Agnes pointed out! A person commits a crime and, in a matter of hours, they could jump to a new body. It’s our duty to ensure these Books never get into the wrong hands. That’s been the purpose of my entire career. I’m not only protecting ancient people from being forgotten, I’m protecting the modern world from things which would harm it.”

  “You make an excellent point,” Trafalgar said. “Once everyone is back in the proper bodies, we will see that the books are properly deal with. But that begs one final question. When all is said and done and we’ve successfully returned Desmond to his body, what happens to Amenemhat?”

  “We return him to the ka statue.”

  “For eternity?”

  “He managed for several hundred years, by choice, I should remind you. The fact he’s conscious now is an aberration. He should have died two thousand years ago. We won’t be condemning him to anything by reversing the spell. We shall merely be setting things right.”

  Trafalgar sighed. “I find it a difficult decision, that’s all. He’s a person, living and breathing and aware. Sending him back to that prison seems cruel. Brutal.”

  “The other alternative is allowing him to live out his days in a body which doesn’t belong to him, condemning an innocent soul to the statue. Amenemhat’s prison is one of his own making. What’s happening right now is just a brief respite from what he chose as an afterlife. He’s not supposed to be alive in the here and now, as evidence by the fact he’s only here by forcibly taking over the bodies of others.”

  “If at all possible,” Trafalgar said, “we should try to convince him to go of his own accord. If nothing else, it will lessen the chances of causing injury to Desmond’s body.”

  “That we can agree on.” Dorothy sat up straighter and looked around. “I think I shall investigate to see if I can find anything to eat. All the fornicating with Mazzi has worked up a hunger.”

  Trafalgar sighed heavily. “If you’re merely saying these things to get a reaction from me, I will simply learn to hide it better.”

  “But it gives me such joy.”

  Dorothy winked as she left the table. Trafalgar shook her head, picked up her pen, and went back to her work. She would never have admitted it out loud, but she did consider Desmond far more expendable than she considered Dorothy. He was the only person in the entire ordeal who volunteered himself for the exchange. If their non-lethal weapons and careful reasoning didn’t convince Amenemhat to surrender himself to the ka statue, she feared she would be willing to resort to more terminal options.

  #

  Amenemhat abandoned the vehicle, unsure if his foes had the ability to track it or not. He kept Henuttaui close to his chest as he moved through the marketplace, ignoring the merchants and other customers trying to get his attention. He was sweating under his shirt. His body felt uncomfortable and large, too thick across the chest and oddly heavy in the thighs. The man whose body he was currently using spent much time sitting, that much was clear, and the strain of running from where he’d left the car left him exhausted after only a few minutes.

  He stopped and leaned against a stone wall to catch his breath. He unwrapped the top of the ka statue held across his arms like a child and gazed into its painted eyes. It looked nothing like her, but it was almost as if he could feel her inside the carving. He pressed the pad of his thumb against the cheek and stroked it. He could imagine the feel of her skin, the slickness of her sweat and the way she shuddered when he touched her.

  “Soon, my love. Very soon you shall feel the sunlight on your face, you will breathe the air once more. I vowed it so long ago, and death will not prevent me from keeping that promise.”

  He bent down and pressed a kiss to each of the upraised hands on the statue’s head, then wrapped it up once more. He scanned the street and let his gaze pass over the crowd in search of anyone who looked like they might be searching for him. He spotted a white face in the crowd, an older man with a crown of curly white hair and black-rimmed glasses. The woman with him was also white, and looked vaguely familiar to him. His memory was jumbled after leaping out of Boone and into this new body. Everything that happened to him in London and aboard the Bessemer seemed like a rapidly-fading dream.

  Before he could remember where he’d seen her, the man locked eyes with him. He brought his hand up to point, but Amenemhat was already running.

  “Stop that man!”

  The Keepings, he remembered, Leonard and Agnes. His new host knew them as well, and he’d seen the woman in the tavern. They had obviously pursued him just as Boone and Trafalgar had. How many blasted allies did this woman have? How many would he have to kill just to live in peace?

  He kept the ka statue cradled close to his chest and dug in the pockets of Desmond’s jacket for anything he could use against his pursuers. He found coins and folded money, a key, and a small set of small black stones. Their outer texture was rough and they had a peculiar odor to them. He hoped they might cause the Keepings to slip and fall, or perhaps one of the shoppers he shoved past would slip on them and cause a blockade. He twisted at the waist and let the balls fall.

  The marketplace was too loud to hear them hit the ground, but the results were apparent even without looking over his shoulder. People shrieked, some cried out in surprise, and then he caught a whiff of sulfur wafting on the breeze. When he reached the corner he stopped and looked back. Leonard Keeping had stopped to lend aid to someone who was bent over and hacking, but Agnes had a rag wrapped around the lower half of her face and was still in pursuit. She was almost close enough to reach out and grab him.

  He spun to face her, bending his knees slightly. She slammed into him and he twisted at the waist, his arms hooked under hers, and lifted her off the ground. Agnes grabbed his hair with both hands and he cried out as she pulled him down with her, both of them tumbling end-over-end. Agnes hit the ground first and shoved him to one side. He rolled and she ended up on top of him, using her leg as a kickstand to prevent further rolling. She sat up and placed her hand on the flat of his chest, holding him down.

  “Amenemhat, I presume? Trafalgar told us you might look differently from the last time I saw you.”

  Their positions meant that Amenemhat didn’t have enough leverage to sit up, her arm like a pike on his sternum. Instead he grabbed her wrist with one hand while smacking her just below her elbow with Henuttaui’s statue. There was a small risk of breaking it, but the stone was exceptionally strong and her arm was under strain. Her arm bent in a gruesomely unnatural way and her face twisted into an anguished shriek behind the mask she was still wearing. Amenemhat shoved her off and got back to his feet. Agnes clutched her broken arm, too pained to continue her pursuit. He spotted a dark alleyway between two buildings and darted into it, jumping over a crate and sidestepping a puddle of some unidentified liquid on his way to a side street. He ducked into another alley, and then another, only stopping when he was positive the Keepings had been left far behind.

  Desmond Tindall was unaccustomed to this amount of activity, and Amenemhat collapsed against the pale yellow brick wall, his hands shaking as he tugged at the collar of his shirt. It felt very constricting even though it wasn’t buttoned. His heart was thudding against his ribs and the world spun around him. He didn’t remember sitting down but eventually realized he was slumped against the wall, legs out in front of him, struggling to focus on anything.

  He closed his eyes and let the sun pound down on him, making him sweat even as it dried the sweat on his cheeks and forehead. He tightened his grip on the ka statue, grateful he’d been able to keep hold of it. A shadow crossed over him and he squinted one eye open, half-expecting to find a vulture circling. Instead he saw a suspicious woman wearing a dark blue abaya and a niqābi. The veil left her eyes exposed, which was enough for
him to determine she was considering whether he was worth the effort to step over.

  “American?”

  He nearly told her the truth and said he was Egyptian like her, but he knew his coloring would prevent her from believing him. “British. I just need a little water.”

  The woman seemed to sneer behind the brown cloth concealing the lower half of her face. She looked over her shoulder, then in the other direction, either to determine if anyone would see her helping a British man or to see if there was anyone else to help him before he perished. Finally she sighed and held out a hand to him.

  “Come with me.”

  He let her help him up, wavering a bit before finding his balance. She waited until he was steady and then led him inside. Once they were indoors she removed the veil by lifting it off one ear and letting it hang loosely from the other, letting it brush her cheek like a lock of hair.

  “I am Ruby,” she said.

  “Amenemhat.”

  She looked over her shoulder at him. “That is a British name, is it?”

  He scolded himself for the mistake. “Boone. Desmond... ah, Desmond Boone.” He knew that was wrong as well, but his mind was too frazzled to correct himself again. They were in her kitchen, a cramped room that was barely large enough for a table. He lowered himself into one of the two chairs as she filled a glass and handed it to him.

  “Why are you collapsing on my doorstep, Desmond Boone?”

  “I was... being chased. Assaulted.”

  She snorted and looked away. “British. You’re surprised? Or maybe it was because you stole something? What is that you’re holding?”

  “It’s mine,” he growled, glaring up at her in case she tried to take it from him.

  “Hmph.” She cocked a hip and watched him carefully. “Who do I have to worry about chasing you? Police? Grave robbers?”

  He shook his head. “Neither, I assure you. My pursuers were dealt with. I was merely ensuring they could not pick up my trail. I underestimated my stamina and the heat.”

  “That could have been a deadly mistake.”

  It undeniably could have been. It made him curious what might happen if he had died. Would Trafalgar and Boone have found the body? Would they have been able to use the Books to return Desmond... Desmond... whatever his last name is to his proper self? What consequences would there be, placing a consciousness into a corpse?

  Ruby snapped her fingers, startling him. “You looked like you were fading away. Almost dropped your treasure there.”

  He looked down to see the statue had almost slipped off his lap. He corrected that, lifting it and carefully placing it on the table. The cloth he’d used to swaddle it fell away to reveal its face.

  “Is that a ka statue?” Ruby asked.

  “You know of them?”

  Ruby nodded and picked it up. Amenemhat reached to stop her, but she was too quick. She examined it carefully. She turned her head one way, then the other.

  “It looks real,” she said. “I’ve seen many fakes for the tourists. They are gaudy and ornate, but this looks like something an actual artisan may have crafted.” She ran her eyes down the length of the statue and held it up to the light. “There’s a carving on the base.”

  Amenemhat became very still. If she read the spell aloud, his beloved would be standing in front of him. Her lips moved to the shape of the words, but she gave up before making it through even one phrase. She put the statue down.

  “You could probably fool someone with that for a lot of money.”

  “It is not for sale. And I am not a thief.”

  “Not many innocent men nearly kill themselves running away from something.”

  He ignored the comment and pulled the statue closer. “If it would be all right, I would like to remain here for a while. To recuperate from my run.”

  Ruby’s expression revealed she didn’t believe him, but she still nodded. “You will remain in this room. Drink as you need. Touch nothing but the glass without permission.”

  “As you wish.”

  She turned and went into the next room. Amenemhat watched her go. He doubted he could convince her to speak the words required to free Henuttaui from her imprisonment, but she would make a fine enough temporary host. She was, at the very least, worth the effort of trying.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Dorothy leaned across the table to see the character Trafalgar was pointing at, but she couldn’t come up with a translation off the top of her head. She was rubbish when it came to logographic languages. She was much more comfortable with words that meant other words. Languages like Italian, Mazzi’s tongue. She’d said some very interesting things that Dorothy would love to have translated, if only she knew anyone who wouldn’t blush repeating it. She chewed on her thumbnail as she considered asking Mazzi for a few lessons.

  “Good lord!”

  Dorothy jumped at Trafalgar’s outburst, turning in the chair to see what had caused such a reaction. Leonard Keeping had just entered with an arm around Agnes’ waist, even though she was clearly telling him she could walk under her own power. Her right arm was encased in plaster. Dorothy leapt up and went to them, placing a hand on Agnes’ shoulder.

  “What on earth happened to you?”

  “Amenemhat,” Leonard said. “We spotted him in the marketplace. It was... bizarre to see a friendly face looking so hostile. Although I’m sure Agnes felt the same way when Amenemhat used your body to attack her in London. Lovely to see you’re... yourself again, by the way.”

  Dorothy said, “Lovely to be myself. Here, Agnes, sit... sit.”

  “I’m not an invalid. It’s just my arm.” Trafalgar handed her a glass of water as she sat down, and Agnes thanked her quietly before taking a drink. “He assaulted us with some foul-smelling pellets which exploded on impact.”

  Trafalgar said, “Threnody gave those to us. I suppose we can report back that they’re effective.”

  “Very much so,” Agnes said. “I managed to catch up with him, but the bloody bastard broke my arm. Fortunately there was a doctor in the crowd who rushed me to his clinic so he could put this on.” She lifted her cast and wiggled her fingers.

  Leonard said, “The crowd saw a man assaulting a woman several years his senior, so it wasn’t difficult to organize a search party--”

  “‘Several years’?” Agnes muttered at her husband.

  “--to scour the area for him. But he must have found some shelter.”

  Dorothy said, “I hate to say this, but Desmond doesn’t have the constitution for long bursts of physical activity. He couldn’t have gotten very far.”

  “That area is like a maze,” Leonard said. “He could have ducked into any number of empty buildings or shops.”

  “It’s a pity Beatrice isn’t here,” Trafalgar said. “There might be more arcane means she could employ to track down our quarry.”

  Dorothy said, “That reminds me. I wanted to try getting in touch with her again. She wouldn’t go this long without contact. Hopefully Ivy Sever has news.” She put a hand on Agnes’ shoulder again. “I hope you’ll forgive me for the part I played in this injury, Agnes.”

  Agnes smiled. “You would do the same for me. Now go. Give Beatrice my love.”

  “I will. And any expenses you’ve made on this journey will be completely taken care of when we get back, I assure you.”

  “All a part of membership in the Mnemosyne Society,” Leonard said. “Think ahead to months or years from now when Agnes and I enlist you in some quest. How would you respond if we offered to reimburse you?”

  Dorothy sighed. “I would say that the adventure was worth the expense. But you still have my gratitude, both of you. And if you require any assistance while you’re recuperating, you know where to find me.”

  “Indeed I do. Now go! Beatrice must be anxiously awaiting your summons.” Dorothy nodded and departed for the front desk. Agnes watched her go and then turned to Trafalgar. “How has she been? Any ill effects?”

  Trafalgar shook
her head, an indication of reservations rather than negativity. “It’s hard to be certain. She seems like the Lady Boone we’ve all come to enjoy, but I can tell the experience is more harrowing than she wishes to admit. We’ve been working on the Books of Breathing translations and I’ve been using it as a pretense to test her memory and cognition. She occasionally has difficulty shifting from one topic to the next. I’ll ask her a question when she’s in the midst of translating something and it takes her a moment to catch up. I’m not even sure she’s aware it’s happening.”

  Leonard said, “She’s been through quite a singular ordeal, one which put tremendous strain on her mentally and physically. We may never know how extensive the damage was, or what the long-term effects might be. She may need a few solid nights of rest to be herself again. Or it might be years before we see the full ramifications of having her consciousness passed around like bad penny.”

  Trafalgar said, “The only thing we can be sure of is that there are no experts in this sort of affliction. There are no symptoms to watch for, no physician who can examine her for clues. We shall simply have to keep our eyes on her for the time being.”

  “Agreed,” Leonard said.

  Dorothy returned a minute or so later looking much relieved. “Ivy sent a telegram. Beatrice has returned home, safe and sound but looking ‘weathered,’ whatever that might mean. I thought of calling her directly, but I don’t want to disturb her if she’s actually resting.”

  Trafalgar said, “That’s splendid news, Dorothy. I’m glad she’s safe.”

  “I am a bit curious where she might have been, but that can wait. For now I can put my mind to ease about her and focus on Amenemhat.”

  “I am of the opinion that nothing should change,” Trafalgar said. “We would be squandering our time hunting him, exhausting ourselves in the heat while he rested and relaxed in whatever spider hole he’s taken as his shelter. We should remain here and continue working on the Books. They are the only weapon against him we can count on.”

  Leonard nodded. “Well said. I agree with Miss Trafalgar.”