Annabeth Neverending Page 22

  The minute Kha leaves the room, I fall to my knees sobbing, wiping my hands across my mouth, trying hard to undo his filthy touch. Sethe knows the other servants are watching, and as such cannot say a word about what just transpired. But he pulls on his earlobe, which signals to me that he shall visit me this night.

  There is another flash.

  Even though the other guard of my room is deep in slumber, he should not be. He should never let his eyelids shut, lest someone kidnap me for a pharaoh’s ransom. But thankfully, this night he is again a failure at his assigned task.

  Sethe steals into my room, and we embrace. Our lips collide, and it erases the bitter memory of Kha’s kiss.

  “Just as I suspected,” says a voice in the darkness.

  I would know it anywhere. “Baketmut!” I cry, shrinking back.

  She steps into the light of the oil lamp. It casts sinister shadows upon her face. “I swear, dear sister, I will not tell a soul.” Her words are cloying, sodden with all the sweetness of raw honey.

  “You will not?”

  “Who am I to destroy your love? I shall keep your secret to myself. I would rather die than betray you.”

  I fall to her feet and bow to her in submission. She is my sister, not just in name. Baketmut is truly a friend and ally. I cry with relief.

  The moment she leaves, Sethe grabs my hand. He is holding it so hard I fear the blood will stop flowing.

  “We must escape.”

  “But she swore she would not tell.”

  “Do you really believe her? Would you lay your life upon it?”

  I laugh at my own naïveté. It was madness to think Baketmut would keep such juicy gossip to herself. Surely she is already spreading it to all the servants, awakening them to do so, and then moving on to Amun and Majesty Father, so she can save the biggest reactions for last.

  And here I have been so very careful to keep our love private. But this moment was inevitable. Secrets don’t remain as such for long within the walls of this palace. Enemies are always watching you, waiting to trip you up, take over your position, murder you.

  “No. But what should we do?”

  The wind is whistling outside. If we did not live in an abode made of stone, I would be terrified.

  “We must leave. The storm that is brewing could very well save us. It will cover our tracks,” whispers Sethe knowingly.

  “Or it could kill us.”

  “Better to die during our escape. Would that not be preferable to the alternative?” he asks.

  It is a sad state of affairs when those are your choices.

  I reconcile myself to leaving for good. To departing the only home, the only people, the only family I have ever known. But I am willing to risk it all for a chance. Though that it is all it is. And a slim one at that.

  “May I take anything else with me?”

  “No, objects of richness would be most telling if we were caught.”

  Assuming we even make it that far.

  I am frightened. This much he knows. But he also knows how to calm me, how to make me feel as though everything will be all right simply by taking me into his arms. His touch puts my deepest worries to rest.

  We look at each other, and I am struck, as usual, by his unique umber eyes, dotted with golden speckles still visible despite the looming darkness. If only we could stay this way forever, and I could forget the ambiguity that we are facing.

  He takes my fragile hand into his strong one, forcing me to acknowledge the unknown future that stretches out before us. I shake in anticipation while he brings me to face a new life, a different life filled with uncertainty.

  With Mew Mew nipping at our heels, we hasten our departure. Time is our enemy. Escape is the only option.

  United, we will find our deliverance. His salvation. And mine.

  There is another flash.

  I hold a covered Mew Mew by my heart an attempt to shield her. The sand-strewn wind is scratching at our faces, reaching into our eyes and clawing at our lids from the inside. The sharp grains have already penetrated our clothing, and the worst of the storm has not yet reached us. The wind is blowing in our direction, which would be helpful if it was not so strong in its prodding.

  How long have we been walking? It feels like days, but I suspect it has only been a matter of miserable hours. We cannot tell for certain because the sun is now so difficult to see, obliterated by the dust. Finally, Sethe leads us to the ruins of an abandoned step pyramid that must date back to the time of the pharaoh Djoser. We descend into its dark depths, in hopes that scorpions and snakes are not awaiting our arrival.

  Sethe had the presence of mind to take several caskets of oil and a lamp with him, which is all we have to light the interior of the cavernous room. We can hear the harsh winds spinning around outside, and there is something that stirs within me. A need for immediacy, for closeness. This is a need that only Sethe can fill.

  I kiss him, but he pulls away. Hesitating.

  “No, I want to be the man I once was. I will kiss you when I wish to, if I wish to.”

  “Do you wish to?”

  “We shall see,” he says with a wide grin.

  We lie down on a stone table, and I rest my head upon his torso. I inspect the scar on his chest, running my fingers over the lumpy, craggy skin. It has healed as much as it ever shall. But it is large and raised. It is the symbol for “slave” and means that no matter how far he runs, he is considered the property of the Egyptian Empire—he belongs to the pharaoh. An object to be bartered or sold.

  “Did it hurt when they did this?”

  “In many a way.”

  Then, he goes silent. Just as I never imagined this for myself, fleeing from my home at the onset of a sandstorm, he never thought he would be a prisoner of war.

  Sethe smiles sadly. And now that we are here, totally alone, and can truly open ourselves to one another, I can ask him the question that has been burning a hole through my mind.

  “Did you love another? Did you have a wife?”

  “Do you really want to know?” he asks, his voice low.

  “Perhaps not.”

  Sethe looks away, and it is obvious that he does not care to discuss it. I suppose he has the right to keep parts of his past private. Some things may still be too painful to recount. And to be honest, the thought of him with another is far too difficult for me to contemplate.

  In this place, just the two of us, we are finally able to let go fully and completely. And so our lips touch, gently at first, but the passion quickly escalates.

  I want to take his pain away. I want to ease the hurt, the agony, the humiliation. He devours me, our lust rising, the sweat of our bodies mingling. His kiss alone is enough to bring me to the brink of ecstasy—but he pulls back.

  “It is bad luck to make love before a ceremony. We must marry first, Ana. Or else we will forever by damned by your gods and mine.”

  “I do not know if I can wait,” I admit.

  “We must do it properly. We cannot resort to savagery. There is no need to rush,” Sethe insists.

  Though I feel like there is. I do not know how much time we have left.

  There is another flash.

  A bright light awakens us from our slumber. We are wrapped around each other, not for warmth but for comfort. We cling to each other all the tighter when our impending doom becomes apparent, as it is the blinding oil lanterns and torches of Kha’s men that illuminate our cavern.

  The clanging of their waiting weapons is audible. A staunch warning.

  “How did you find us?” I ask, courage surging through me.

  When you have already come to accept your own demise, what is there left to fear? I don’t know how all these warriors made it through the sandstorm, but then again, I imagine that the black arts are capable of defying even the worst natural disaste
r.

  “There is no escape from me, Princess,” Kha says with a look of superiority. Of victory.

  I notice my cat is now circling herself around Kha’s legs, and her tiny feline mouth is turned up in a sort of smile. Why didn’t I realize Mew Mew was his familiar? Do not all magicians have evil animals intent on assisting them with their heinous schemes?

  “Mew Mew?” I ask, expecting no answer from the feline, yet she meows in the affirmative.

  I gaze back at Kha, who is now snarling with rage.

  “I did everything for you. I turned to the black arts, all for you.”

  “I never requested your love!”

  “Yes, you did. Not in words, but you seduced me with your smiles, your kindness. And then you gave your heart to a slave? That is the ultimate insult! And now you shall suffer for your insubordination!”

  Kha reaches his hands to the heavens, as though to gather strength and power. His men surround him. They are in hooded black robes, their faces hidden, chanting in a foreign tongue. Perhaps an ancient one? What kind of odious spells are they casting?

  The cavern shakes and pulses with black light, with evil energy. The earth convulses with a fury, rumbling, tumbling, on the verge of pulling apart to reveal the underworld. Sand spills in from between the stones as they disintegrate from the agitation. Sparks and lightning fly from Kha’s fingertips. He must be summoning all the power he has at his disposal.

  “Come to greet us where the sun sets and rises!”

  The room goes pitch black. Is it even a room anymore? It feels as though it is now the night sky. The darkest sky there could be.

  Out of the vast chasm appears a large snake. He is huge, and he is ominous. His scales are so glossy that they glow. He looks like he is made of quicksilver; he glides so quickly across the floor. He opens his mouth and hisses, his forked tongue rolling out to greet us, his beady eyes glimmering.

  I instantly recognize him, and fear works its hooks into me, latching on, threatening never to let go. This is Apep, the snake god of chaos. Of darkness. Of evil. And now he is not merely a hieroglyphic, a flat figure that one sees upon a wall; he is the physical embodiment of all that is wicked. The most dreaded god in our pantheon.

  He is the one who leaves us praying for the protection of the sun god, Ra. We beg him to keep us in his light, to keep us free from the ruthless slither of Apep. Perhaps Ra can save us now.

  “Apep, embolden me with your darkness. Fill me with your power!”

  Kha throws back his head as his body is charged with a humming, buzzing, singing, sparking black energy! He screams throatily as he is lifted into the air, floating in the darkness, surging with evil. Is he human any longer?

  My dear Ma’at, Kha is the personification of all that is vile!

  He descends, landing on the floor right in front of us. He points at us, seething.

  “I hereby curse you both! No matter how many lives you live, no matter how many times you fall in love, I shall destroy you! The pain and misery will only come to an end when Ana gives me her heart willingly.”

  If he still had any aspirations of winning my affection, then cursing me and the man I love was not the right strategy.

  Apep disappears into the ether, and the dismal darkness goes with him. And now, aided by light, though it may be minimal, Sethe and I take our places. He throws me a polearm, and I grip the long handle, swinging it around to get a feel for the weighty steel weapon that sits on its tip.

  We each strike a fighting stance, as we are both on the offensive now. Kha’s men rush at Sethe, which is not ideal. So I am left to target Kha myself. He is so deranged; he must have planned it this way, so he could teach me a lesson. But I would have chosen to take him on anyway, as I want to make it abundantly clear that he never will have me. Fighting him should get that message across better than any words could.

  My polearm keeps clashing with his, and though I can hold my own, I am no match for Kha. Perhaps magic has made him a better fighter than he has the right to be. He takes every last bit of energy I have, but I find it within me to continue just a little longer. I am about to sweep his leg, and I sense that triumph is imminent…

  Until I feel some arms grabbing me from behind. His men have me! The fight served as a perfect distraction. I thrash so hard that I break free and run as I have never run before.

  “Do not stop, no matter what happens!” Sethe cries while still at work, slicing through the side of Kha’s subordinate.

  I make my way up a narrow, low-ceilinged staircase and rush outside, but the sandstorm is still in full force. I try to elude Kha’s men, but I do not get far. I am suffocating. His minions pull me back as I kick and scream and slap, but they are much stronger than me.

  One of them takes down his black hood and reveals himself to be my brother Amun.

  Amun!

  “Do not fight it, Sister. You must do what Kha says. He will lead us all soon.”

  So Amun is in league with Kha! It was all part of his master plan for me to marry him. Amun purposely made himself abhorrent to me, knowing I would seek another mate. I was but a pawn in his elaborate game.

  My mother was not the only one guilty of betrayal. Amun has turned his back not only on me but also on his father, his gods, his country. He has fallen prey to the darkness and let it devour his soul.

  What does this mean for Egypt? Will the entire empire crumble after giving way to Kha’s will?

  Once I have been dragged back inside the monument, I watch as Kha and Sethe engage in a battle of their own. They swing around their weapons, their knife-tipped edges splitting through the air.

  “I have had my fun. But now, I shall bring an end to this. To you.”

  Though Sethe is a champion, even he can’t best Kha, who smashes the blunt end of his weapon into the side of my love’s head with a resounding, sickening thud.

  Sethe falls down in a crumpled heap on the stone floor. He is wounded, but he must live. There can be no alternative. For I would perish without him.

  “No!” I scream from the bottom of my lungs. I attempt to run toward Sethe but am unable to get around Kha and his men, who are now blocking my way.

  The tears run down my cheeks, but I wish them away. I can show no weakness now.

  Kha throws his polearm down and walks over to me. He grabs me and gives me a forceful kiss. I do not reciprocate; indeed, I bite his lip until it bleeds. I step back and look at him daringly as Kha babies his mouth, ferocity blazing in his eyes. Infuriated by my latest rejection, he comes at me.

  His face is contorted in rage, and he thrusts a sword deep into my belly, impaling the internal organs that mummifiers take such care to salvage and preserve for the afterlife. I bend over in agony, as the pain is excruciating. Every fiber of my body feels as though it is being pulled apart at the same time.

  I fall down, lying in a pool of my own blood. It is silky smooth and soothingly warm. I am but clinging to what remains of my life, trying hard to stay on this side of the light. I have so many wounds…a gash in my gut, my heart, and my soul.

  Sethe and I are too far apart to touch. The distance is small yet infinite. We reach for each other, our fingers stretched to their limits, but cannot make contact, though we try with all that we have left.

  I care little for what becomes of me, but Sethe…He has already endured so much sorrow. Why is that some people were made to live existences free from strife, while others seem to attract it?

  “Do not leave me! You are all I have. All I have ever wanted!” he cries.

  If only I could speak. If only I could comfort him, help him accept my death, let him know that he gave me more happiness than I ever knew possible. He was worth every hardship, every bit of pain. I just hope that I was worth it. I pray that loving me brought him enough joy to offset the misery. But if I do not value myself that highly, how could he?

&n
bsp; Members of the pharaoh’s guard arrive, looking for us. Kha’s men probably told them where to find us. They are heading straight for Sethe. After all, to the casual observer, it would look as though he killed me. My blood now coats his hands. They must think him, the most honorable being I have ever known, nothing more than a common murderer.

  But they are too late. I watch on as he collapses completely, and I know that he is gone. His body is but a shell, a hollow receptacle that once housed his beautiful soul. Now I welcome my own death completely. For maybe it will bring me back to Sethe once more.

  “That slave, Sethe—he is the one who killed the princess!” says Kha accusingly.

  “It was him,” I try to scream. If only I could lift my arm and point to Kha, so they would know the true killer, but it is impossible. I try to say it…I fail even at that.

  “When I tell the pharaoh of your indiscretion, you shall be struck from the historical record. Erased. It will be as though you never existed!”

  Kha looks at me, his eyes oozing with rage and determination. “You will love me!”

  “Never,” I say so quietly, so weakly, I wonder if he even heard the word.

  Kha stands there impatiently watching me, waiting for my life to end. “I shall see you in the next life. Perhaps then, you shall choose more wisely.”

  Mew Mew comes and licks at my blood as it pools around me, a final act of insult. My life force slowly draining from me, ebbing, ebbing, ebbing away like the Nile at the end of its tidal cycle. There is nothingness. A complete and utter emptiness. I feel myself growing ever weaker, ever smaller. I reach for the welcoming darkness. For Sethe is there.

  Then I feel the light. It overtakes me.

  This is what it is like to die.

  25

  I sputter awake, holding on to this existence as best I can. I feel like I’m perilously close to having a heart attack; maybe I already did—the overload was so strong. But I can’t leave this life yet. There’s too much yet to be done.