Visions of Fire and Ice (The Petiri)

by Teresa D'Amario

  He turned to face the western walls. A pink granite statue lay rolled into the corner. The caricature of a face remained, the eyes and mouth destroyed, chipped away by both time and vandals. Running a hand over the surface, images of Ancient Egypt flashed through his mind. A time when the monuments now tossed so carelessly on this ancient city rose in ultimate glory. When these remnants were the tall and regal markings of a culture that loved art and science. A sharp pang of sadness stabbed in his heart, and he shook his head. Those times were gone now. Not that Egypt didn’t like art and science now, but everything was so different.

  His hand traced the path of the small carvings on the side of the ancient stone. One in particular caught his eye: the complete eye of Horus. One eye represented the moon, the other the sun. But Set took away one of those eyes, according to the stories, destroying it even as Horus destroyed Set’s manhood. Two man-gods at war, their battleground was perhaps on the sand on which they stood. How much was real? How much was story?

  Beneath the eye was another image. He brushed away the sand and narrowed his eyes.

  Set.

  Ramose’s blood ran cold. “Here,” he whispered harshly.

  Mereruka drew himself to his feet and, with three long strides, was beside Ramose.

  “Look,” he said, pointing out the two images. “Horus, above Set, and this is the only marker of any kind.” He dropped to his knees, brushing away the sand. His hand collided with hard metal. He brushed the reddened sand aside. A door. A new door when compared to the rest of the site.

  “Got it,” he said. Adrenaline surged through his veins, and he pulled on the handle. The wooden surface slid to one side. Electronic. How the hell were they going to hide this from the French diggers when they reached this corner to excavate? Amunkha was slipping. He’d added technology to mix with ancient history, and that was dangerous. They were lucky this site had been untouched as long as it had been. Or maybe, just maybe, Amunkha had something to do with why this site had never been fully excavated. Maybe someone was in his financial pocket.

  Ramose peered downward into the darkness then back to Mereruka, who shrugged, dragging a small disk-shaped device from his pocket. “I always come prepared.”

  With a tap, light burst from within his palm. He closed his fist and darkness fell again. “You first,” he said to Ramose, handing him the palm light.

  “Since when do you raid our stores?” Petiri science was strictly off-limits in order to protect their existence, but, in the last few years, they’d become more lax as human technology drew closer to their own. It wouldn’t be long before the palm lights were standard fare for human households. He took the small device, closing his fist, muting the bright beam until they moved inside.

  “Since it became necessary to take Amunkha down with something other than strength. You and I both know he’s stronger than either of us.”

  Ramose grunted. “Let’s go. I want to get this over with.” This. A night of death. His or his brother’s. Ramose ignored the twinge of pain in his gut, palming the light disc. He swung both feet into the darkened pit. A rickety ladder stood on one side. With a nod, he grabbed both sides and lowered himself into the darkened recesses beneath.

  Once fully engulfed in darkness, he loosened his grip on the disc, and light shone through his fingers. He glanced downward. The chamber stood at least three stories in height, well beneath the surface. Much lower than he’d expected, so close to the Nile. Then, again, this branch of the Nile had been dead for a long time. He moved with speed, dropping his feet to the hardened, worn surface beneath.

  He flashed the light around, examining the chamber. There were four walls and one doorway, opening into more darkness. Hieroglyphs and images adorned the walls. All dedicated to Set.

  Humans didn’t recognize the animal Set personified, but Ramose did. The Nakajar, a vicious demon-like creature found on Petiri in its wildest regions where even he avoided hunting. Nakajar possessed needle-like teeth and injected poison into its victims, similar to snakes. Thank the gods they weren’t quite as quick as a snake. How a Petiri animal became the personification of a human’s god was something he could not explain.

  Mereruka joined him, his eyes scanning the small chamber.

  “Let’s go,” Ramose used his telepathy to send his friend the message. The smallest sounds carried in those darkened and dusty underground caverns. The low passageway hindered their progress, once designed for men much shorter than either man. Ramose grimaced when he noticed his friend’s shoulders nearly touched both walls. If they needed to get out of here in a hurry, it wasn’t going to be easy. Tucking in behind his friend, their lights their only guide, they moved quietly through the shaft. The tunnel continued for more than three kilometers before it spread outward, splitting around a square room, its walls blocking their entrance.

  “I think this is it,” said Mereruka, examining the images marking the stone in front of them, raising his hand to light the way. “It’s an internal chamber. You go right, I’ll go left.”

  Ramose nodded. He searched for Amunkha, but his senses were muted in this darkened place. Had Amunkha put some sort of shielding around the central chamber? Something to dull his presence, or dampen the ability for magick to work?

  The tunnel grew wider and arched downward, moving deeper into the earth’s surface. The soft murmur of voices drifted to him. He stopped and listened.

  A woman’s voice murmured in the distance.

  “You’re awake. Good.”

  Ramose stilled, straining to hear who she was talking to.

  “What’s going on? Let me go.”

  Darius. Let him go?

  “You have something I need,” she said. “A present for my god.”

  “Really? If your god is who I think it is, I don’t want to help.”

  She laughed, softly. “You have no choice. It’s his birthday tonight, and I wish to give him what he has always desired.”

  Set’s birthday. It certainly was.

  “What?” Darius croaked.

  For Darius to be afraid of a woman didn’t sound like him. He cherished women. He didn’t fear them.

  “You are the most virile of his kind. I’m sure you are aware Set has never fathered children, and he would like to. When I give him the gift of your virility, I shall be forever rewarded.”

  “Virility?” Darius’ voice sounded strangled. “And how do you intend to give him…”

  “With magick of course, and this.”

  The smell of copper hung heavy in the air, the one and only poison they had found on this planet.

  “Wait a second,” rushed Darius, “you don’t intend to cut me with that do you? It’s copper. You can’t.”

  The woman’s voice hummed from her throat. Beautiful and sweet, for a woman about to do something so vile.

  Where was Mereruka? Now, Ramose understood the images and premonitions he’d experienced about Darius. The man’s sensuality was to be his demise. Thank the gods above that Tamara had told him where to find him. When he got home, he’d—. “Not, now,” he growled beneath his breath. He inched closer to the door. Mereruka tapped the wall opposite of him. Ramose nodded.

  Chains scratched upon stones. The woman’s voice began a chant.

  “Sand from the tomb of Set and Osiris. Death. Water from the depths of the Nile. Life.” Ramose heard the pouring of water. They needed to time this right. They had to wait until she was at the peak of her ceremony, or else the magick could break free and cause untold damage.

  He glanced at Mereruka, his friend’s face hard and focused as he too listened.

  “Blood from the childless womb.”

  Almost there. Her voice raised, the power of her spell vibrating through the chamber. One thing he knew about the magick of Set, if it wasn’t stopped at the right moment, it could backfire, killing all those around it.

  “For death, resurrection and life, for procreation. Hear me, Set. For without chaos, there can be no peace. For without death, ther
e can be no life. And without children, there can be no hope.”

  This was it.

  Ramose charged into the chamber, throwing himself toward the priestess. With a quick surge of his own power, he shot a dagger of ice at her wrist, knocking the copper blade to the floor. Mereruka ran in from the opposite door, his own body firmly between her and their friend. A burst of power surged from his fingertips, and he encased her in a wall of ice.

  “No! What are you doing?” she screamed.

  “You take him,” Mereruka jerked his head toward Darius, “and I’ll watch the witch.”

  Ramose nodded and turned to his friend. Darius muttered, his eyes closed. But for the first time since he’d known the man, he wasn’t aroused. Thank the gods for small favors.

  “I’m so sorry,” he heard Darius murmur. Had she drugged him? Ramose hurried to release him, wrenching the ancient pins from the iron cuffs.

  He stepped back, but, before he could help Darius up, the man moaned beneath his breath, a soft sob of pain. Darius rolled over and sat up, his feet falling to the floor.

  The ice surrounding their captive exploded into shards, their tips sharp as glass, raining down on the three men. Darius winced and tucked, hiding his privates. About time. Mereruka met his eyes, and they both moved, each grabbing a feminine arm. They dragged her to the stone bed she’d had her own captive pinned to. She screamed and fought, but was no match for the two of them. Together, they pushed her to the hard stone and wrapped the cuffs about her delicate wrists.

  “Let me go.” Her shrieks echoed off the walls, and sand trickled from within the stone. She twisted, struggling to release her bonds. “I’ll make you pay for this. He’s mine! I have to do this.”

  Her body convulsed, her back arching. Then she stilled as suddenly as she had exploded. Her head jerked forward, tendrils of dark hair falling forward from their braid. Their gazes locked. Green iris’s turned murky and dark, until all that remained was an icy black. And, when she spoke, her voice rumbled, low and deep, like something from the ancient depths of hell. The masculine tones rippled through the womanly throat, sending chills down Ramose’s body.

  “You think you can stop me,” the voice sneered. “Everything is already set in motion. When Tamara dies and you are in pain, I shall have my ultimate reward. You will wish you never left your home planet. For you cannot stop Set, God of Chaos.” The being turned its face toward Mereruka then back to Ramose. “For the God of Chaos reigns supreme!”

  Ramose’s stomach turned. This had to end. Now.

  His eyes caught the glimmer of a necklace, and he saw the symbol of Set hanging about her neck. He snatched the medallion, ignoring the burn on his palm, and yanked it. The chain snapped, and he tossed it aside. Her back arched, and she screamed, then her body relaxed. He let out a breath and checked her pulse. Rapid, but fine.

  Ramose raised his eyes to Mereruka. “What the hell just happened?”

  “I don’t know, but I think we are dealing with more than just your brother.”

  Her eyes. He’d seen eyes like that before. His brother’s eyes.

  “How did you get here?” he asked, turning to face Darius, who’d managed to pull up his pants.

  The man he saw standing before him barely resembled the man he’d sparred with just days before. His flesh was pale, pulled taut about his cheeks.

  “I’ve ruined everything,” Darius whispered.

  “Ruined what?”

  “I’ve slept with everything female for thousands of years, Ramose. Every single woman I met. I never expected…” Haunted eyes met his.

  “Easy,” murmured Ramose, grabbing his friend by the shoulder. “Take it easy and tell us what’s happened.”

  Darius’s dark eyes turned to his, filled with misery. “She’s alive. My Kha-Ib. And I’ve betrayed her. I never thought...Gods. She’s alive.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  He’d failed. Amunkha was still free, and Tamara was still in jeopardy. Ramose shoved open the door to Selket’s house. He should have setup his home base at the safe house, instead of invading Selket’s space, but he’d had no way of predicting the sudden upturn in danger.

  Darius entered without uttering a sound. In fact, the man hadn’t said a single word since they’d rescued him. Not since he’d announced ‘she’s alive.’ The man had been through hell tonight, and not just because of Set’s priestess. Whatever it was, the usual jovial man had done nothing more than stare out the window of the car for the full two-hour drive back.

  And Tamara. Just the thought of her sent a wave of guilt through him. He’d left her here, despite her wishes. She didn’t understand what it would do to him if she were hurt, or worse, if she were killed.

  He sighed and strode into Julie’s room.

  Tamara sat on the bed, her hand in her cousin’s. Her eyes were red, and tears trickled down her cheeks.

  “What’s wrong?” he growled, already half way to her before he could force the words from his throat.

  She turned to face him, her eyes widening. She brushed the moisture from her face, a smile brightening her otherwise red face.

  “Nothing’s wrong. Now that you’re here,” she said. She rushed toward him, throwing her arms around his neck. The soft heat she always held in her body seeped into his, easing the concerns and guilt of moments before.

  It was as if his whole world somehow became better with her arms wrapped around him. He hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted her touch until she was there, comforting. Easing the anguish of the last few hours. The scent of lilies encircled him in a cocoon of welcoming perfume.

  He tipped her head back and searched her eyes. “Why were you crying?” he asked.

  “Later.” She gave him a watery smile. “I’m just glad you’re back and safe.”

  “Always,” he whispered. He needed more than her touch. He hungered for her taste. Refusing to deny his desires, he touched his lips to hers, smiling when she opened for him, her response just as hungry, just as needy as his own. He hadn’t lied when he said he craved everything about her.

  He shifted, hiding her body from prying eyes, moving her back into the corner, mindful not to press her against the wall. The memory of his dream haunted his thoughts, and he touched her, ever so gentle.

  Chapter Thirty

  “Ramose, there’s something I have to tell you,” said Tamara, folding her arms and moving toward the dresser. The bedroom given them by Selket overlooked the city, and Tamara stared out at the city lights, searching for the right words.

  She didn’t have to turn to know he was behind her. His presence, large and masculine, radiated across the heated desert air, caressing her flesh even before he touched her arms, stroking the flesh with his large, cool palms. That’s one of the things she liked about him. He wasn’t too hot. No matter how erotic things got between them, he didn’t turn too hot for her to tolerate. Instead, his skin emitted a light, cool energy which she hungered.

  “What is it, Kha-Ib?” he asked. His cool breath feathered across her hair, teasing her flesh with the light icy breeze. The tremor running through her flesh had nothing to do with the cold.

  “Julie,” she forced the words out when all she wanted to do was turn and take him in her arms, to feel how alive he was now. To relish every moment they had together. “She had a vision. Well, we had a vision together. About you.”

  Ramose’s arms circled her shoulders, and he pulled her back against his hard chest. His breath teased her ear, his teeth nibbling the lobe. Tamara tilted her head to the side, basking in his touch. The words caught in her throat, silencing her.

  “And?” he prompted, his voice low and husky.

  “And you died.” Damn. She didn’t mean it to come out like that.

  Ramose stilled behind her.

  “You went into an underground tomb or cavern or something. There was a statue of Aphophis. The one with the snake for a head? And Amunkha used his magick to send Aphophis’s spear at you, and it struck you in the heart.”
The words rushed out, even as tears stung her eyes.

  “And you saw this?” he asked, his body once again caressing hers, wrapped about her as though she was a delicate possession.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I shared the vision with her. It’s something she and I can do together. I touch her, and…and I can see what she sees.”

  He turned her to face him, his eyes searching hers. His cool thumb brushed away the hot tears coursing down her cheeks, and she closed her eyes, leaning into his touch.

  “Tamara, look at me.”

  She shook her head. She didn’t want to. She didn’t want to see what he thought of this vision. Too many times she’d had people blow off her cousin’s visions, just like they blew off her ability to sense evil.

  “Tamara,” he commanded.

  She opened her eyes.

  “I’ve already been to that place. I saw the statue you mentioned. It’s where we found Darius. So I’m safe.”

  “No,” she whispered. “You didn’t take me with you tonight, but, in the vision, I was with you.”

  He sighed and folded her into his arms. For a moment, she let his comfort seep inside. In his arms, it was as though all was right in the world. So comforting. So protective. If only the comfort he offered would last forever.

  “Now that we know, all we have to do is avoid it. You understand that, don’t you?”

  She shook her head and tried to pull from his arms, but he held on, his grip gentle, but firm.

  “I know to be careful. That’s all I have to do, right? Avoid the spear? That changes everything you saw and changes the future.”

  “But—”

  “No but’s. What did you think? That I wouldn’t believe you?”