“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Small bursts of chaotic energy shot outward, searching for a target, but missing. “You think you can defeat the God of Chaos?”
* * * *
Tamara stared down at her hands. Yes. She could. Just as she knew she could save Ramose’s brother. The knowledge radiated from every pore, building the heat inside her. She released her hold on her fire. Flames erupted, covering her body, surging from the top of her head to her feet. In seconds, she was nothing more than a pillar of fire with arms and legs. The heat filled the cavern, and she saw sweat pouring from Ramose, but she barely felt it.
Stepping forward, Set cringed from her. Ramose was right, he was afraid of fire.
She straightened, raising her chin. “I can, and I will. Leave this man now, while you can.”
“I will kill you,” he growled.
“So be it.” Tamara knew what she had to do. If she delayed another second, she put both Ramose and Amunkha in jeopardy. She raised her arms, projecting the image she wanted to see. Fire leapt around his feet, encircling his body. Like a tornado, it spun about him, rising higher and higher, until the fire encompassed his entire physical being. The spell she’d written with her cousin came flowing from her lips as she worked to destroy the god hidden inside the man.
“I call upon our ancient’s power
Bring help to those this very hour
Ancestors, family join, through the power of love
Energy increased from the power above
Come to me, loan me your power
Bring us help this very hour.”
The words worked through her mind, repeating over and over again. Power surged, intensifying with every phrase. She spoke again to Set. “Leave this man, give him the peace he deserves.” She fought to keep her voice from trembling. She’d never done anything so terrible as she was about to.
“Never. This poor soul has done more for me than any other in my history.” At first, he cowered behind the flickering flames, but then, as though he found hidden strength, he righted himself and a slight smile touched his evil lips. “You know, I do love your spunk. I could keep you forever at my side. Would you like that, my dear?”
She couldn’t believe his audacity! “Never.”
White hot pain slammed into her head, dropping her to her knees. Her hands hit the floor hard. She cried out as tiny knives stabbed at her brain, shattering her thoughts, disrupting her concentration.
She sensed movement behind her and knew it was Ramose. If she didn’t get control, and fast, Ramose would kill his own brother. With effort, she shook her head, lifted her eyes to Set’s, ignoring the stabbing pain.
“You will not have your way in this. Leave Amunkha. I won’t allow this to continue.” She forced the words through her teeth. The spell continued to shimmer through her mind. It took a moment before she realized Ramose now echoed her words, helping her keep the cadence going. She didn’t have time to send him a mental thanks. Instead, she forced herself to feet, glaring at her adversary.
Set’s mocking laughter echoed through the chamber, muffled by the rippling and snapping of flames.
“And just what do you think you are going to do about it?”
“I don’t think you realize what you are up against,” she said, confidence oozing from her every poor despite the pain. “You may have brought Ramose here and used his brother’s life force for millennia,” she said, “but it ends today.”
Tamara sensed Set’s power whirl around her again. She couldn’t take another slam like before and be able to do what she needed to do. Not with all the other hits to the head he’d given her.
She repeated her spell in her head, praying for a miracle, while she worked to build the fire around her nemesis.
Gray, smokey shapes formed in the small chamber. It was working! The air grew thick with magick as shapes solidified. Men and women, from all walks of life, both past and present filled the room. Multiple cultures, multiple races circled around her, joining hands. Her ancestors. Her family. The pulse of relief was monumental, and, for an instance, the figured wavered. She focused on their appearance, pushing more and more into the spell. Their bodies solidified, and before her stood the power of centuries of family.
Power surged through her. Not just the power of fire, but, oh, so much more. It was the power of love.
“You think you can defeat me? The God of Chaos?” The fire around Amunkha wavered, shrinking. His power surged again. A small statue flew through the air, directed at her head. She held out her hand, and it stopped, inches away, shattering uselessly to the floor when her arm dropped to her side.
“No, I can’t defeat you alone. I don’t have that kind of power. But it appears you have one power you yourself have not used and I am forced to use it for you. You will defeat yourself.”
“You are going to use my own power? I seriously doubt it, child. You are no match for me. For this, you and Ramose both will die.” He shook his head as if the idea pained him. Then he brightened. “But I am pleased to say it will be very painful. I truly do love painful.” Set sent a knife hurtling through the air toward Ramose, aiming directly for is heart.
With a flick of her hand, Tamara turned it, sending it directly back toward its sender, stopping it at his throat.
“It’s too late, Set. God, or no god, you have made countless mistakes. Your first was to infect a man whose family loves him more than all the power inside you.” Her voice echoed with the voices of centuries, her ancestors adding their power to the chorus. “Amunkha’s real power is in love. Using that love, he reached out to me for help. And that love will free him before his soul is totally destroyed.”
The walls of the cavern bulged. The stones groaned beneath the pressure. Dirt and debris rattled, showering downward in the corners of the chamber. From the corner of her eye, she saw Ramose staring in shocked horror. She tried to ignore his expression. Tried not to worry about what he thought when she called forth her ancestors. The chances were he’d be gone by morning, overwhelmed by what he’d seen. But tomorrow didn’t matter. She had to rescue Amunkha and see to it Ramose remained safe. Nothing else mattered.
“You imagine your request is so compelling you need only ask, and I’ll leave? I have used his body for more years than your limited intellect can comprehend. I will not give it up.” Set’s lip curled into a snarl
Set/Amunkha raised his hand, behind the flames, his arm parallel to the floor, and slowly closed his fist, focusing his power on Tamara. Energy moved, a slithering snake, surging through the small stone burial chamber. Her throat tightened until it nearly closed, gripped by an evil force. Her blood pounded in her ears, and she gasped, struggling for breath.
No longer alone, energy poured into her from the spirits around her. She shoved hard, pushing their shared power toward him. The whirlwind of fire encircling him blazed higher and higher, eating the oxygen which kept him alive. The heat buffeted her and Ramose, but she didn’t back off. She tightened the ring, forcing Set to remain still, his focus lost, as was his maleficent grip.
Her voice rang pure and clear when she spoke her next words:
“Join with me, ancestors please Mothers, fathers, filled with love Join with me, share your expertise Send power pure as a dove.”
Once she uttered the words, the power from the spirits circled the cavern. They swirled, their smoky presence pouring toward her, their visible energy pulsating in the room. The chorus of voices echoing through the tomb.
“Take this soul who seeks control. Bind him from his cruel intent Ancestors joined, we bind his soul Separate from those who remember love Be gone dark spirit and be content.”
Nothing happened.
Still, Set controlled the body before her. She could tell by the evil glint of laughter in his eyes. Tamara’s heart pounded in her chest. She couldn’t fail. She had to win, or they were all going to die. Tamara searched her mind for another incantation, a poem, anything. Then a woman stepped from the circle o
f ancestors. Dressed in an ancient white gown, gold criss-crossing between her breasts, encircling her waist. Her long dark hair hung past her shoulders, straight and shiny as a raven’s wing. Her eyes were decorated with ancient Egyptian kohl, enhancing an already beautiful face. At first, Tamara thought she was Brianna, come back to help. But this woman held an aura of power which caused Tamara’s body to tremble.
The woman’s mind join with hers.
“Trust me. I will help,” the woman’s voice said.
More words poured into her head. Whoever this woman was, she knew her stuff. Tamara nodded, then turned to the east with the new chant.
“Aker, Amaunet and Baal – hear my cry.”
She then turned west.
“Meretseger, Sihkar and Qebehsenuef,”
She then turned her eyes heavenward. Energy circled the tomb, whipping her hair across her face, wrapping her in a cocoon of safety from Set’s wrath.
“Daumutef, Maat, and Sokar,”
She spread her arms wide and gathered the power she’d called. Then her voice softened, tears flowed from her eyes. “Osiris, God of the Netherworld, lend me your strength, Isis, Mother of Magic, hear my cry. Join with us to banish this evil!”
Struggling behind the flames encasing him, the dark entity fought to maintain control of the body he’d stolen. Shadows moved. Darkness reigned for a few moments behind the flames and then seeped from Amunkha’s body.
Relieved, Tamara began a new chant.
“Contained within this jar dear
Designed to hold the hearts of love
The evil we have expressed here
Contain him with the power above.”
A cloud of darkness dragged itself from the body encircled within the flames. A light speared the room, shooting from Amunkha’s chest, and he collapsed to the floor. The image of a golden phoenix flew from within the light and circled frantically above his fallen shape.
Tamara glanced toward the canopic jar she’d placed upon the table. The darkness flew inside it. Taking a deep breath, she let her hand cool, pushing away the heat from her fingers. Once human again, she screwed the lid in place.
“Seal within the evil here
No longer will you besmear
The ones we all hold close and dear.”
A glowing line appeared around the neck of the bottle. It faded, leaving in its place a waxy substance. The fire surrounding Amunkha’s body slowly dissipated.
Tamara pulled back, only the fire remained. It burned hotter and hotter. She tried to extinguish it, but nothing happened. The hot, orange flames burned out of control. She brought up her hands, playing with the fire, the way she did when she became frustrated.
Nothing.
Fear gripped her heart. She stood, encased in flames, her heat building. What would happen if she couldn’t stop it?
Just as she began to panic, icy, cold air surrounded her. She opened her eyes. Ramose. He stood in front of her, his hands pushing a cold wave of air toward her.
At first, the new oxygen only fanned the flames, but, then, the cold breeze settled against her flesh. He moved closer, pulling her into his arms. No! She struggled, trying to free herself. After all this, she would not burn Ramose.
But he didn’t let her go. He, instead, tightened his hold.
Like a sandstorm, cold whipped around her, spinning, fighting against the heat surging from her. The fire inside slowed its rise and even began to descend. At last, her flames dissipated.
She stared into Ramose’s green eyes until she knew the fire had dissipated.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He hugged her close, leaving a kiss on her brow. “No need, Kha-Ib. You’re safe.”
They stood in almost darkness, the only light from a golden phoenix which circled about the chamber, its wings burning hot.
After a full circle, the bird returned to the fallen man.
It nestled into Amunkha’s arm, taking its place as his Napshua. His Kha had returned home.
Silence reigned. Both Tamara and Ramose held their breath.
She’d saved them. Both of them.
Ramose was thousands of years old. Surely, he could handle her use of non-Petiri magick. But a tiny pebble of fear seemed to ripple inside herself. What she had done could only be called witch magick. Or maybe Native American. She didn’t really know.
Then she had lost control of her fire. He’d had to save her from destroying them all.
Once again, Tamara remembered the word he’d used. Axriad. Child.
Tamara pulled from his arms and looked at the bottle in her hand. Nothing else remained of the entity that had ripped apart so many lives. Just the dark shadow in this jar. The spirit of a god once so powerful he’d ruled the deserts. Tears of exhaustion and emotions she couldn’t begin to name trickled down her cheeks. She turned toward Ramose, but he stood looking at his brother.
* * * *
With his hand gripping Tamara’s, Ramose stared at the man as if seeing him for the first time. Amunkha lay silent and still. His long strawberry blonde hair still shone with the purity he’d always seen when looking at his brother. His eyes were closed, and, from here, he looked just like the boy Ramose remembered. But would he be? What damage had Set done?
Ramose turned to Tamara. Tears streamed from her eyes, and her skin as pale as the snow he’d tried to use to stop his brother. She’d saved them. All of them. Nothing he’d done had more than slowed down the god. Petiri magick at its best, and he’d been useless.
“Interesting spells,” Ramose said.
“Ha ha. Very funny.” she said. “It isn’t like I do this every single day. Never said I was a poet.”
He wanted to hold her, to thank her, but she held herself aloof. She pulled her hand from his then gripped the edges of the velvet-covered table as though to hold herself up. Alone.
He stepped toward her, but she shook her head, nodding toward Amunkha.
“See to him. He’s your brother.”
He wanted to say and you’re my Kha-Ib.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Tamara stared out over the city of Cairo. The night breeze dragged at the silk robe she wore, the soft cloth fluttering around her. It was hard to believe the danger was past. Amunkha was himself again. Well, as much of himself as he could be under the circumstances. Mereruka another of Ramose’s friends had come and taken the canopic jar, burying it out in the desert in hopes no one would ever find it. Ramose and his people were safe.
She should be happy, yet a layer of melancholy settled over her like the dust from the desert sands.
“It’s so different here from home,” she murmured, more to herself than anything. And probably so different from Ramose’s past. He’d lived more than four thousand years.
Axriad. The word wouldn’t seem to leave her mind. Compared to him, she was an infant. A child who needed guidance and training. It was that odd thought which fed the melancholy.
“How so?” Ramose asked, startling her. He stepped up behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders.
Tamara ignored the ache of longing at his touch. Child, she reminded herself. A child who would be old and gray before he so much as aged another year.
“Well, the shapes of the buildings. Plus, I see there is so much left undone. Almost like they stopped mid-construction. It’s really strange.”
He chuckled, and, once again, Tamara remembered the sensation of warm silky chocolate running down her spine she’d felt when he first spoke to her. She bit her lip.
“That’s so they don’t have to pay high taxes on the building. If it’s unfinished, the taxes are much lower.”
“Odd.” She smiled at his use of contractions. His language skills had improved quite a bit over the last few days.
“Come,” he said, backing into the apartment. “I have a place I wish to show you.”
“More pictures?” she asked, remembering the images of his home world.
He quirked a smile at her. “No. Another
home where I sometimes live. I need to get some tests from there and thought you would like to see it.”
“Tests?”
He nodded. “Yes. The tests Selket ran with yours and your cousin’s DNA. I’m curious as to what she has found.”
Tamara shrugged. “Okay. Just give me a minute to get dressed.”
She gathered her clothes and moved into the bathroom to change.
* * * *
Worry ate away his confidence. She wasn’t acting like a woman happy to have found her match. She wasn’t even acting the part of a woman happy to have saved his brother from evil. Instead, she had the air of a woman on the verge of goodbye.
When she came out, dressed in a beautiful skirt, he grabbed her hand, not giving her a chance to escape. He needed her touch as much as he needed the air to breathe. In a few short days, he’d come to love her. A woman. Part human, and he was sure, part Petiri. Hell, even if she was all human, he didn’t care.
“Are you sure you know how to drive?” she asked as he helped her into the BMW. “I mean, Jakkar usually drives for you.”
He grinned. “Oh, yes. Just remember to hang on.” He drove with all due speed. Like a native. He glanced toward her. Her eyes were wide, and her fingers clenched around the armrest on the door. “I didn’t mean that literally,” he said, with a laugh.
She glanced at him and gave a tight smile. “I didn’t know you drove like a true Egyptian. Shit, Ramose, you’re going to get us killed.”
He veered around the next corner, exiting out onto the desert. “Well, I did learn to drive here, so, of course, I drive like a local.”
“So what is this place?”
“It is what we call a safe house. We have it hidden in the desert, designed to look like a sheikh’s mansion. It’s where we keep our medical equipment and even, sometimes, our weapons. It is in a beautiful location, though. You’ll love it.”
She nodded, but didn’t smile. Ramose struggled to keep control. He wanted her to do something. Anything. She showed no other emotion than fear of his driving. Maybe once the DNA results were released, her fears would be put to rest. She had said she loved him. Love was a given for a Kha-Ib, so he hadn’t acknowledged her words, but he’d felt the emotion in her message. Yet since the battle with Set, everything changed. Had she lost her love for him? Had saving Amunkha been too much for her?
Visions of Fire and Ice (The Petiri) Page 28
