The Dark Evolution Chronicles

by Cassandra Di Rossi

  “She must go to Solomon,” Jonah repeated. He sniffed, tears tumbling from his eyes. “She must bear his son.”

  I would have argued this to be impossible, had Horus not proved that it was.

  “But she will use you, she is cold and cares only for riches.”

  “She’s important,” Jonah muttered, wiping his eyes with his filthy blood-stained sleeve. “You know it too,” he added suddenly looking more grown-up than his years. I did know it, but it did not quell my concern. There was something about this woman that would come back at me one day, I just could not see what. I moved away from the bed and stood to watch with Osiris.

  “Go on then son,” he said, giving him a hand up.

  There we stood, Osiris, the queen’s lover, and me, as Jonah bit into his own wrist and then placed it upon Agame’s lips. The moment she tasted the blood she licked at him, slowly at first then hungrily, until her body was desperate and she bit into his flesh, sucking the blood into her mouth, drinking noisily. I shot a glance at Osiris. His stare was cold, and his face wore a look of resignation. When she was done she fell back in an ecstatic stupor.

  “I guess we do not need this,” I said unfolding our woollen cloth to reveal the glass lightening.

  “Perhaps not,” Osiris replied, taking it from me and setting it upon a small stool by the window. “Let her sleep now. As soon as she is awake we will commission that boat.”

  *

  Agame slept for the rest of the night and the entire next day. As the evening drew in Osiris and I went to the jetty to enquire after passage to Sheba. As luck would have it two new boats had arrived and one was heading south. After a little persuasion, they agreed to take the passengers and drop them at the Sheban port.

  “She will be home in a matter of days,” Osiris said as we walked back up the street to the tavern. “Will you get word to Isis for us?” He paused to look at me. I gave a slight laugh,

  “Of course. If I cannot find her in person, I will seek her in my dreams and send her to you." Osiris bent forward and kissed me lightly on the cheek,

  “Thank you. I am certain we shall meet again.”

  “You have not left yet,” I said, heading into the tavern, glad to be using the door this time. As we entered however we were met by a most unexpected vision.

  Agame was standing in the centre of the tavern wearing nothing but her gold collar. Her hard brown nipples peaked out through a cloud of dark hair. Her large breasts were round and pert, and her flawless brown skin seemed to shine in the torchlight. Her body was long and slender, yet her hips swelled wide, ready for birthing a child. The dark mound of hair between her legs was neatly cropped. Osiris gawped like a boy looking at his first naked woman. The tavern was silent. The owner was gawping too, along with several other men and more than one woman. Ariana was sitting on the stairs holding a discarded gown. She was staring too, but the look upon her face was one of embarrassment and dismay.

  “She refuses to put it on,” she said quietly. Agame must have heard her, for she turned around slowly, showing off her incredible figure. I was across the room and whisking the queen up the stairs before she, Osiris, or anyone else in the tavern even noticed. Her body was still warm to the touch. She felt soft and sensual. I pushed her into her chamber and pulled down the drape. I had seen this before when Apollo turned a young dancer at the Trojan court. She was fine for the first few days, but then quickly began to lose her mind. It seemed to me that Agame was already losing hers. But it would not do to put a stake through a queen’s heart, or take off her head, as we had done to Daria.

  “You must learn to understand your new life. You must not fear it but accept it. Your body has changed inside.” She looked at me blankly as though I were speaking in another tongue. “Your body needs blood now not food or wine. Your image will fade from reflection, and your gaze will cause others to lose themselves in you.”

  She was staring at me, her brown eyes flirtatious and inviting. She smiled seductively and then patted the straw at her side. As desirable as she was I had no intentions of joining her, not in that state. Besides, she was Vampyr now, and what fun would there be in that. I raised my eyes to the sky and pursed my lips.

  “You must learn how to control yourself. And you must do it now.” I reached for the glass lightening but at that moment Osiris arrived. He shook his head.

  “Giving her magic may make her worse.”

  I set it back down. She was tilting her head as she watched me, fluttering her eyelashes. I bit my lip. We needed to get her out of there fast, but she could not board a ship in that condition. She would have sex with half the crew and eat the rest before they had sailed half a day. I sighed and went over to her. I knelt before her and took her hands. She leaned in as though to kiss me, but I pulled my head out of her way.

  “No. Not that.” I scowled. “Look at me, right at me, that is it.”

  The queen allowed her gaze to lock on to mine, and then she was trapped. She stared into my eyes so hard I thought she might step right inside my mind, but I was able to hold her back.

  “I tried that already.”

  “Lord Zeus!” I spun around to see Jonah sitting in the far corner of the room, his knees drawn up under his chin. “I have more experience, I shall try again.” I calmed my rapidly beating heart and turned back to Agame. Her eyes were glazed and blank.

  I locked on to her gaze again and let her see our world. She flinched and squeezed my hands hard as she watched my memory of the first time Apollo had taught me how to listen to a human heart. She swayed back as I showed her how Osiris and I had burned in the sun in our pursuit of Jonah. And she began to cry when I let her see how lonely life could be. When I let go of her hands she reached up to touch my face. This time I let her.

  “You must go with Osiris, and you must do as he says,” I said slowly so that I knew she had heard and understood. She nodded even more slowly than my words. Then suddenly she looked down at her body and looked up again so startled I could have believed she had no idea she was naked. Behind me, Ariana pushed back the drape and entered the room carrying her gown.

  “Help her dress,” I said, getting up and walking over to Osiris. “She should be all right, enough for you to get her home with her head still attached anyway,” I heard the sarcasm in my voice and cringed.

  “It was the right thing to do,” he replied with a sad shrug.

  “The boy is coming too?” Agame’s voice seemed softer than it had when she was human.

  “Yes, he will come too,” Osiris assured her. He held out a hand to Jonah. “Come, look at what you have made,” he said to his son.

  Jonah reluctantly clambered to his feet and stood before the queen.

  “You will be my profit?” She asked rather than told for once. Jonah glanced at his father cautiously.

  “Yes, he will. For a time at least.”

  “Why not for the rest of my life?” she asked, forgetting her new immortal state.

  “He cannot stay forever Agame. But he will write down everything he sees and give it to you as a parting gift.”

  The queen smiled so broadly I almost believed her to be kind.

  “Be careful,” I said to Osiris.

  “I know. There is no need to be concerned. Once everything is written out then there will be no need for him to remain her profit, and he can grow up and make his own life.”

  I appreciated the sentiment, but I knew this would not be the last time this boy would be forced to make prophecies for the benefit of others.

  “You are quite right,” I said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “What do you think, Jonah?”

  Jonah smiled,

  “Yes, I think that is a good plan,” he replied, and we shall call it the Book of Darkness.

  *

  The boat was to depart the following dawn, so we bundled Agame, Jonah, the queen’s rather confused guard, and her now nervous lover safely on board before the sun could rise.

  “I am glad you were able to feed her before
you go,” I said to Osiris as we stood on the jetty waiting for the captain to arrive.

  “You won't forget to find my wife?” he asked with a slightly flirtatious smile.

  “Of course not.”

  The captain and the remainder of his crew began to arrive. Osiris looked up. The sun was beginning to peak over the watery horizon.

  “You had better go back to the tavern before you burn.”

  “And you had better board and get to the lower deck.”

  I kissed him on the cheek and turned to leave.

  “Take the glass lightening, you never know, it may come in useful one day,” he called. At that moment a drunken priest staggered along the jetty, his long smock tangling in his legs as he stumbled, singing something that did not sound at all priestly. I began to laugh,

  “I wondered where he had got to.”

  Osiris was laughing too. I looked back at him one last time,

  “See you again someday.”

  “You can count upon it.”

  As I mentioned at the beginning of this story, it is still strange for me to find myself referred to in the Book of Darkness. Yet it should be of no surprise at all since I was there at its inception.

  The Dorian

  When girl becomes woman she is many things, lover, wife, sister and mother.

  But when one such beauty stepped out from the shadow of childhood, she burned those around her and took all she could.

  A dying mother’s wish kept her safe, but it was the kindness of a Dorian that made her good.

  Book of Darkness, C1000 BCE

  Chapter 7 paragraph 8

  The Pyramids rose up from the desert-like great white monoliths. I had to shield my eyes from the dazzling glare, even though I was standing beneath a wide canopy of papyrus.

  Next to me was Sekhemet. She brushed the tendrils of her long black wig over her shoulders and dabbed her forehead with a square of cloth. Despite her efforts, a trail of sweat trickled down from behind her ear.

  “When will this heat break?” she grumbled, turning her face towards the papyrus fan a young serving boy was wafting at her.

  It was not yet past the summer equinox, but the sun had been burning down fiercely for more than sixty days. I do not feel temperature as severely as humans, but even I felt as though I was living in a baker’s furnace. I lowered my hands and looked at her.

  “Not until the end of inundation,” I replied a little hesitantly.

  “Ohh,” she sighed, pouting her lips, “I shall not survive that long.”

  “My lady, I shall keep you cool.”

  The male voice that uttered these sycophantic words was that of her betrothed. He was sitting uncomfortably on a small wooden stool at the back of the canopy, directly behind her. She rolled her eyes at me and I was forced to look away for fear of laughing.

  “Osiris, help me!” she mouthed. I bit my lip and expressed my empathy with a pitying look. “I do wish they would hurry up!” she said out loud.

  “Not long now,” I replied. I was Sekhemet’s guardian.

  At first, I was her nanny, but then when her father died I became her business advisor too. Her known human ancestry stretched back for more than a thousand years, and the family position remained unchallenged as the chiefs of Mn-Nefer. Though she had run the business for five years already, she was still a child.

  “I know you are always right Cassandra, but if they don’t come soon I shall pass out and die.”

  It was my turn to roll my eyes. Sekhemet was always inclined to be overly dramatic.

  “A little patience,” I suggested.

  “Then entertain me,” she said, folding her arms expectantly.

  “I can entertain you, my lady,” the boy chimed again from behind us.

  “I meant Cassandra,” Sekhemet said with a little more irritation than was necessary.

  I gave her a warning glare. She knew very well that she had no choice of husband. Her marriage had been arranged not long after her birth by her parents and his. The boy was but a single month her elder, born far south in Waset. The families were distantly related, though the match was seen as more of a political alliance than a family reunion.

  Each needed the other to maintain their trade deals and keep the priests' control at bay. Sekhemet had known of the match from the moment she could talk, and in some ways had looked forward to it. But the boy, MeryAmun, had turned out to be a short, skinny weed of a child, with about as much conversation as he had muscle, that is to say, very little. He bored her, and I could see no way to change her feelings on the matter.

  “Very well, what would you like to hear?” I offered.

  “Tell me about the time you rescued that little boy from the clutches of the Queen of Sheba.” Sekhemet loved this story, not least now because the queen in question was the aunt of her betrothed.

  The tale had been told to her since she was only three years old when her mother had first invited me to stay at their home. Of course, a few facts had been omitted for obvious reasons. I had never mentioned the name of the child, or that of his father. Nor had I given any indication that anyone involved was a Vampyr, especially not the queen. If MeryAmun knew of this fact, he had never owned it, though he had by then heard the story several times since his arrival in Mn-Nefer. On this occasion, however, he was saved the experience.

  The low thunder of hooves reached us before we could see them. The long road from Djanet wound around the Nile, through the lush delta basin, and down into the desert plateau on which we then stood. The road carried straight on to Mn-Nefer, yet Sekhemet preferred to greet her visitors coming from the north at the plateau, for no more good reason than dramatic effect. I could see her point. If they were coming by road, they would pass these massive monuments anyway.

  They would stop and marvel in wonderment regardless. So why not meet them there, and have them blown away by the magnitude and beauty of the pyramid complex while doing business at the same time. It often took first-time visitors off guard, allowing Sekhemet to negotiate a better deal, for her. I suspected at least part of their wonder was also upon meeting Sekhemet.

  At only thirteen years old, she was bright, beautiful, headstrong, and as ruthless as she was melodramatic. Some who came had previously dealt with her father and expected they would find a more amenable experience with a little girl. They were mistaken. Though her reputation was beginning to spread, many did not believe it, until they experienced her for themselves.

  Sekhemet dabbed at her forehead again and pressed the backs of her hands onto her hot cheeks to cool them a little. She adjusted her stance so that her back was pole straight. Her budding breasts stuck out beneath her gown just enough to show that she was at least becoming a woman.

  She was lean and slender with strong arms that could fire a bow and arrow as accurately as an archer. Her legs, though hidden beneath her gown, bore the musculature of one who could outrun a messenger. She could not outrun me, but she was never far behind. I expected that as an adult she was going to be quite remarkable. Her mother had known it too.

  “Please stay with us Cassandra,” Neferet had said. I know you miss your temple at Djanet, but soon I shall be gone, and my daughter needs a woman as bright and strong as she to guide her.”

  Neferet was one of the kindest, loveliest women I have ever met. On my way home from rescuing Jonah, I had traced Isis to Mn-Nefer and stopped there to fulfil my promise to Osiris.

  I had met Neferet in the market place. Her husband was passionless and she had a preference for women. She also understood and was fascinated with the notion of the Vampyr. She invited me to her home for more than one reason, but she was already dying. The moment she asked me to stay and take care of her only daughter she took my hand. I saw a vision of what Sekhemet would become, and I could not refuse. I had word sent to Djanet that I was dead at sea, and I was thus reborn as a child’s nanny. I heard they had buried an empty coffin for me at the temple, in the hope that something of my soul would continue even withou
t my body.

  I squinted into the light, shifting a little further back into the shade, for the sun had moved over and was threatening to burn my toes. Two chariots were hurtling toward us, atop of the first were two men. The second had only the driver.

  “I thought he would be taller,” Sekhemet said as the chariots drew closer. She was referring to the passenger in the first carriage, who we both presumed was our merchant. The chariot came to a stop and the men jumped down, eager for shade, for the carriages had very little.

  “Welcome,” Sekhemet said with her best cool smile. “Please, take some fruit and water.” She waved her hand so that the serving boy put down his fan and fetched over a large jug. We had been there since near dawn and the water was warm as the desert, yet the men glugged it gratefully.

  “Thank you, my lady,” said the second driver as he jumped down to join his companions. “Oh, that is good,” he added, popping a segment of orange into his mouth from the platter on the rug. “It has been a long day already.”

  Sekhemet raised her eyebrows at me. I knew she was confused. Why should the driver be speaking to her so directly? I gave her a shrug. I cannot see everything after all.

  “Forgive me, I am Dorus of the Dorians.” He held out a hand to me. “You are even more beautiful than your reputation.”

  I prodded Sekhemet surreptitiously in the back, for I knew the mistake would make her laugh, and we could not afford to offend this man.

  “I fear my reputation does not include an actual description,” she said with more sarcasm than was necessary. He momentarily looked concerned, but then a grin spread over his lips.

  “Of course. I should have known. You are just so very young,” he grabbed her fingers and kissed the back of her hand with a low bow. Sekhemet smiled with such genuine delight that I knew I would need to watch her bedchamber door for the next few nights. Poor little MeryAmun had also seen her pleasure and was hanging his head sorrowfully. I smiled at him, but he knew as well as I that no matter how much he tried, she would never look at him the way she was looking at the Dorian merchant.