"The Embrace" by David Christopher Meredith

Elizabeth Weishin Heart was melting.

That was what it felt like anyway. Even beneath the hastily erected, canvas shelter, the full noonday sun seemed to blast through the fabric ceiling above, baking every hint of moisture from everyone and everything. The unchanging desert sands that stretched past the limits of her vision in every direction seemed to pulse with solar energy. The wind blew, but rather than offer any sort of relief, it felt as if someone were holding a hairdryer close to her face with the power turned all the way up.

Elizabeth had disrobed as much as modestly would allow. Her light brown cotton T-shirt was tossed carelessly over the back of a canvas folding-chair. Her long khaki pants lay in a disheveled heap in the floor beside her socks and heavy Timberland boots. She reclined bonelessly on a thin mat, in nothing but a pair of polyester Umbros and a black sports bra. The red and black checkered shorts, left over from her not-so-long-ago intramural soccer days, had crawled up her thighs and now clung to her legs is if glued there. At the same time, her sopping wet, sweat-drenched, bra was causing her no end of chaffy discomfort. Her almond-shaped, brown eyes were red with dryness. Her coarse black hair was plastered to her skull with sweat. She felt positively parched, but dripping at the same time. This only added to her misery as the subsequent salt left on her skin by the apparent evaporation of all trace of moisture from her body, made Elizabeth itch as if she had rolled for thirty minutes in a hedge-full of poison ivy. For the love of God why had she done this to herself?

Maybe it had been the high-rez, super-glossy photo paper used on the flyer she saw hanging on that damned corkboard at McClung. The brilliant photography of the ad had seemed to bring the images of rolling sands and forbidding pyramids to life. "Get out of the classroom and into the adventure!" it had said. It had seduced Elizabeth’s romantic side. In her mind’s eye she had envisioned herself crawling through ancient tombs while dodging traps and pursuing exotic, foreign love interests like in the movies. For a paltry two thousand big ones she too could study the ruins of the newly discovered city of Arakh Bohr.

It had all been a con, she realized now – A perfect con, the kind of con that took her money but covered all the appropriate legal bases and prevented her from suing if she every escaped this blazing Hell pit with her life. Of course, if she was brutally honest with herself, even back then Elizabeth had realized that she was being foolishly naive. As much study as she had done, as much as she fully realized the realities of actual archeology, she had still swallowed the romantic lie hook, line, and sinker. No whip, no fedora, no snappy one-liners, or amusing side-kicks - just mindless obedience to a crabby excavation chief, hours of grueling, menial grunt work, miserable weather, and terrible food.

How had she let herself be tricked? Elizabeth had always thought herself a smart, attractive, well-educated, Asian-American woman. She walked wide circles around pan handling "veterans". She deleted get rich quick, mortgage refinance, and penis enlargement emails from her bulk folder every day with a contemptuous laugh at the idiots who could possibly fall for such obvious scams. She filed student loan refinance offers directly into the trashcan unopened when she received them. What had happened?

At this particularly sweltering moment, Elizabeth did not feel especially smart or pretty. Now, she thought ruefully as she miserably glanced at the partially excavated structure perhaps fifty meters to her left, she felt much more like a big, sweaty, brainless dupe. If this was not a "pyramid" scheme, she thought wryly, then she did not know what was. She had fooled herself. She had let herself be placated by the flattering recruiters. She had ignored her own better judgment. She had seen. She had wanted. She had seized and now Elizabeth suffered from near purgatorial buyer’s remorse.

Being an Adjunct at UT had not really been that bad had it? Sure she had all of the typical, brainless freshman classes – the kind that neither she nor her students really wanted to attend. Sure there had been the typical snobbery and arrogance from the full time professors as they looked down their noses at her in the department meetings, but at least her office had been air conditioned. At least the student center cafeteria had served cuisine that, where perhaps not exactly spectacular, was at least edible.

Elizabeth’s stomach growled audibly and she glanced toward an olive drab, plastic-wrapped container on the ground with a shudder… MREs… It stood for Meals Ready to Eat, but she thought that politically correct or not, the alternate acronym used by the graduate students on site was infinitely more appropriate – Meals Rejected by Ethiopians. They had a shelf life of over forty years, were loaded with chemicals and preservatives, and tasted just that way too. Elizabeth looked away with a groan. Thoughts of putting any of the slimy contents of that forest camouflage baggy in her mouth made her almost feel starvation to be a more attractive option. She was not quite that hungry yet.

"Well, well, well," a poor, nasal attempt at a smarmy voice cut into her tormented reverie. "Getting more comfortable are we, Lizzy? Slipping out of all of those nasty, restrictive clothes? Getting hot?"

The poorly disguised sexual suggestion of the comment, not to mention being called "Lizzy" made Elizabeth want to groan again. Before her was yet another cause of intense misery on this trip. She cracked an eyelid to look toward the voice, hoping against all hope that it was someone, anyone other than who she already knew it to be. Two leery, coke-bottle lensed eyes stared back. Their gaze ran lasciviously over her slim, lightly clad body, and obviously even further undressed her mentally. Despite the heat, Elizabeth sat up and hurriedly pulled her shirt and trousers back on. She scowled at the intruder with the height of ill humor painted plainly across her pretty olive face.

"That is ‘Dr. Heart’, thank you very much," she shot back coldly. "What do you want, Bradley?"

Although they had worked together only a few short weeks, Elizabeth was already adamantly certain that she detested the Northwestern Graduate Assistant. It had honestly taken her less than minutes to arrive at that particular conclusion really. Upon their first meeting in the departure lounge of Denver Airport she had politely introduced herself as Elizabeth Weishin Heart and offered her congratulations at being similarly selected for this particular program. Bradley had responded, between loud, drippy bites of chili-cheese burrito, that he was glad she was going because he had been afraid that there would not be any "babes" on this trip. He further informed her that he thought "Japanese chicks" were hot. Then he invited her to visit his hotel room in Nairobi at least as sloppily as he had been feeding himself. The blatancy of his racist, sexist chauvinism had so thoroughly taken her off guard that she had made the worst mistake of the whole miserable trip – She had continued talking to him. Elizabeth had stammered something about being Chinese, not Japanese and that both of her adoptive parents were white Americans. Bradley had shrugged as if it did not matter, and proceeded to tell her in vivid, graphic detail how he wanted to save his money and take one of those Asian sex tours through Thailand and Vietnam. The candor with which he had described what he had planned had so shocked Elizabeth that she could do nothing at the time but stand and stare with her mouth open. Had it ended there, that would have been bad enough. However, perhaps owing to the fact that this was the longest any woman had ever let him go on before slapping him or storming off in a huff, Bradley had fixated upon Elizabeth. Now the pasty GA would not leave her alone.

Initially Dr. Heart had thought that Bradley Van der Vierre was simply one of those incorrigible fraternity boys ever searching for a beer and a bed buddy. She thought that if she ignored him and waited long enough he would eventually fix his gaze on someone else, but Bradley was worse than her initial assessment. He wished he were one of those frat boys, but Elizabeth suspected he would never have been allowed within thirty meters of the door to a Sigma Kai off-campus party. In addition to having the social skills of an orangutan in heat, Bradley also practiced hygiene habits that were not at all dissimilar to those distant, simian relatives, she thought. His clothes were always dirty. His hair was always messy, and the sweltering sun did nothing at all to alleviate the sour odor he constantly emitted either. His thin face was splotchy with blemishes. His voice was nasally and shrill, and when not engaged in the project work that Elizabeth had to grudgingly admit he was quite good at, he was always making blatantly sexual comments to or about her.

She had complained about him of course, but Dr. Michaels, the head of the Arakh Bohr Project, seemed disinclined to intervene. Elizabeth honestly thought that Professor Michaels himself seemed to enjoy watching her work under the blazing sun in her halter-top just a little too much. Then on top of that, Bradley was very well informed about the near-mythic Arakh Bohri people whom they were supposed to be investigating. Frankly, Dr. Michaels needed Bradley’s expertise and had little use for slightly built Asian women who could only haul half-full baskets of dirt from the excavation pit. So, the unwanted attentions continued. Whenever she climbed down in the Pit to dig, there was Bradley. Whenever she went to the water truck to shower off in the evening, there was Bradley. It seemed that whenever Elizabeth wanted half a moment to herself, there was Bradley. Honestly, he was probably the greatest reason for her misery. His constant clumsy overtures and patently offensive commentary seemed to amplify the other discomforts they all experienced a hundredfold. Bradley Van der Vierre had managed to single-handedly ruin, what should have been the most exciting experience of Elizabeth’s life. Now she just wanted to go home.

That was not something she could easily accomplish either. Because of the remote location of the dig site, barring some terrible emergency, she could not leave until the next supply convoy arrived. That would not be for another six weeks. The only thing she could do for the time being was stolidly endure. If she had to suffer, however, Elizabeth did not mean to do it alone. She no longer made the slightest effort to even be civil to the lecherous GA.

"You know it hurts my feelings when you’re mean to me, Lizzy," he grinned at her displeasure wickedly. "Can’t you be nice to me? I could be very nice to you, you know… Love you long time?"

It took all of Elizabeth’s control not to hit him. She felt her face growing hot and her eyes blazed. Her anger only seemed to amuse Bradley all the more.

"If you don’t have something important to say to me, Bradley," Elizabeth growled through tightly gritted teeth. "Then get the hell out of my tent before I slap your face off."

"Temper, temper Lizzy, dear…" Despite his condescending tone he took another good step out of Elizabeth’s immediate reach. "As much as your forcefulness turns me on, I actually didn’t come over here just to piss you off… this time… Dr. Michaels has found something and he’s called all the GA’s together to take a look."

"I am not a GA," Elizabeth growled again.

The sexual harassment made her angry. Bradley’s regular degradation of her education and professional accomplishments made her down right furious.

"I am a Doctor of Anthropology," she continued tightly. "I am an expert in my field and am here on this expedition precisely because of that. You are a snot nosed GA with a nasty mouth and a dirty mind and if you ever get within fifty miles of any school I work at in the future I’ll make sure you never work in any University! Dr. Michaels might not be willing to do anything now, but once we get back to the US…"

"Yes, yes, I’m sure," interrupted Bradley in a maddeningly contemptuous voice. "Anyway Dr. M says come right now or you’ll miss it… Oh, and aren’t you just an adjunct by the way? What University are you talking about? Harvard? No… that wasn’t it… Yale maybe? No, no, no… Oh Yes! Wasn’t it BFE State? And just to verify, you did graduate did you not? And you are an assistant unless I‘m much mistaken. Sooo sorry geisha chick, you’re a GA this trip…"

He snickered once, turned on his heel, and left before Elizabeth could think of any sort of snappy comeback. All she could do was stare at his thin, stoop-shouldered, retreating back in impotent fury. She suddenly felt powerful conflicting urges to both scream and cry uncontrollably and to chase Bradley down, tackle, and strangle him. Just talking to the man made her feel dirty. What right did the nasty little grease ball have to make her feel this way? Elizabeth bit her lip to stop the tears. For the millionth time she wished for her parent’s white colonial back in Farragut. Her dad was probably playing golf right now at the club or walking Bugsy. Mom was probably doing aerobics in the sunroom. She would most likely start getting dinner ready soon. Elizabeth suddenly wished she could speak to either or both of them right now. If her daddy ever heard the things Bradley said… She squelched the thought mercilessly as juvenile. She was no longer in high school. Dad was not going to suddenly materialize out here in the middle of the desert to beat up her bullies. He wasn’t going to come and give Dr. Michaels a stern talking to. She was a big girl now. She had to deal with this herself. Elizabeth gulped down the sudden lump that had formed chokingly in her throat. She wiped her eyes firmly and took a deep breath to compose herself. Then she pulled on her socks and Timberlands and walked hurriedly over to the dig site feeling miserably homesick and alone.

The dig looked like nothing so grand as a huge hodgepodge of canvas tarpaulins stretched all around a dilapidated, sandstone house frame. Most of the structure had already been uncovered by previous expeditions. Though it towered over the hastily erected tent city, it was hardly the sphinx. Just like everything else on this trip it had not been what Elizabeth expected at all. As much as the recruiters had built up the opportunity to excavate a newly discovered city, that "city" had proved to be little more than a single small house in the middle of the desert. Elizabeth knew that did not necessarily mean anything. This could simply be one of a vast array of buried homes, shops, and thoroughfares hidden from view for thousands of years just like at Pompey. She could not shake the feelings of disappointment that assailed her every time she glimpsed the thing, however. Despite what she knew as an academic, to her dejected layman’s perspective it just looked like a rundown, abandoned, stone shack.

The previous expedition had discovered that the building had had a lower second floor, long since filled with sand. Therein, they had also discovered a large, fairly well-preserved stone table right at the entrance before their rotation had ended. For the past three weeks, she, three GA’s including Bradley, and a half dozen swarthy local men had been hauling out and sifting through literally tons of dry, white sediment. Except for a few potshards, nothing exciting had been unearthed as of yet, however. As soon as Elizabeth approached she could tell something exciting was indeed going on. The day laborers who usually went about their business in a dutiful, if uninspired fashion were rushing this way and that. Some carried buckets of sand, others carted tools both into and out of the low tunnel that had been carefully dug out beneath the ancient building. She saw Emily standing near the entrance peering intently inside.

Emily Campbell was a freckle faced, red-headed history student from George Mason University. Elizabeth and Emily did not particularly dislike each other, but neither had they bonded. That was another situation that the young academic blamed on Bradley. Emily seemed to try and keep her distance most of the time and even when the two women were engaged in some kind of (generally work related) conversation, she had a tendency to wander away whenever the other obnoxious GA came around. Elizabeth honestly could not blame her. Emily had just as strong a dislike for Bradley as she did, but the disgusting man was not fixated on her. No, he had decided to gift Elizabeth with his attentions. As much as he incensed the other young woman, she also had no desire to offer Bradley another target to set his lascivious sights upon and so left Elizabeth to deal with him herself.

"Hey Emily," began Elizabeth as conversationally as she could. It sounded more than a little forced even to her own ears. "What’s going on? Van der Vierre, just told me Dr. M found something… Got any idea what?"

"I’m not sure, Lizzy," Emily began.

It did not bother Elizabeth nearly as much for the other girl to call her by her nickname. Honestly it did not really bother her that anyone called her by her nickname but Bradley. When he said it, she wasn’t exactly sure why, but it felt like he was swearing at her.

"Jeremy came and got me just a little while ago," she went on wrinkling her suntanned, freckly nose contemplatively as she continued to stare into the Pit. "I think he was the only one on duty when they found whatever it is. He wouldn’t tell me though. Said Dr. M told him not to. I think the old man just wants to show off, but anyway he was all excited, more so than I’ve seen him in days. So it must be something big… Bradley’s down there with the Doc now… They told me to wait here. I think Jeremy went to go get the camera."

Jeremy was the only person on this whole awful misadventure that Elizabeth could say she was legitimately fond of. He had been a third team All-American defensive guard in undergrad. Now the massive African American GA from Boston College was following his intellectual interests. He had seemed a bit standoffish at first, but Elizabeth, who made special efforts to talk with him given the decided dearth of other possible conversation partners, soon discovered that he was instead just extremely shy. She honestly found it rather charming that a man so big could be so demur. They talked regularly now and Elizabeth had decided that she legitimately liked him. This opinion was not at all hampered by the fact that the one time Bradley had actually touched her, Jeremy had intervened.

Bradley had been lurking around as she finished her daily three-minute shower at the water truck. He had snuck around the large vehicle and pinched her rear end before she was completely dressed. Before, the obnoxious GA had just been a nuisance, but that time Elizabeth had been legitimately scared of him. She had run away, half-clothed in her panic, back to the tents and nearly knocked Jeremy down on the way. Although, she could barely talk through her tears, Elizabeth told him what had happened.

Jeremy had responded in his usual subdued manner. He told her not to worry, that he would take care of it and to get back to her own tent. His voice had been so soothing, so soft and reassuring that she had simply nodded and done as he told her. Elizabeth still did not know what Jeremy had done, but Bradley totally avoided her for nearly four days afterwards. Although his inappropriate commentary eventually resumed, he never tried to touch her again after that.

"Really?" Elizabeth tried to smile. "I didn’t know Jeremy got excited."

"Yeah, I know," Emily returned Elizabeth’s thin smile anemically. "That’s how I knew it was something big. He was grinning from ear to ear…"

Just then there was movement from the Pit. Dr. Michaels and Bradley soon emerged laughing and joking like college pals. The doctor was a bit on the heavy side and as cartoonishly British as Big Ben and fish’n chips. He was a professor at Oxford, a fanatic for Manchester United Football, and looked down his nose constantly at all things American. Elizabeth still could not fathom how the man could tolerate Bradley in the least.

"…is a certainty I think." Dr, Michaels laughed heartily. "Even if it doesn’t quite come to that, it should still prove something worthy of the Journal, I should think."

"No doubt, Doc," Bradley fawned in an oily voice. "We’ll still need to do some carbon dating and run a few other forensic tests, but it could potentially tell us conclusively what happened to the Arakh Bohri! You could be famous sir! This might be the most significant discovery of the century about the history of early civilizations!"

"Well, let’s not get carried away, shall we…" chuckled Dr. Michaels, poopooing the notion with a positively ridiculous amount of false modesty. He was still obviously, unabashedly wallowing in his student’s praise. "There is still a great deal of work to do after all. No good to put the cart before the horse as it were… Ah yes, the young Ladies."

He appeared to notice Elizabeth and Emily for the first time and immediately sounded irritated. Elizabeth was getting the distinct impression that Dr. Michaels did not care for women very much. Though he was diplomatic enough never to say anything overt, there was a marginally condescending note to his voice whenever he spoke to them that made her bristle.

"And where is Jeremy with that bloody camera?" he asked almost as testily. "I need to get pictures back to the Society as soon as…"

"Here you go doc!" Jeremy shouted exuberantly as he barreled around the corner of an obscuring tent. True to what Emily had told her, his perfect white teeth were conspicuously barred in an excited smile. "Got it!"

"Ah there you are, my boy…" he took the camera from Jeremy and then flashed the two women a grin that seemed almost civil. "So… would you like to see what it is we’ve uncovered? Make the whole damned, bloody-miserable trip worthwhile, I suspect."

The two nodded curiously. As much as both Bradley and Dr. Michaels ran all through her with the things they said, Elizabeth had come on this dig expressly because she was interested in Arakh Bohr. Like them or not, they had peaked her interest.

"Well then my friends," continued Dr. Michaels rubbing his hands together in gleeful anticipation. "Follow me… Grab the torch if you would, Jeremy. There’s a good chap…"

He turned to walk back under the house and his students followed him quickly.The area that had been cleared from beneath the structure had been a kind of cellar it looked like. Metal scaffolding visibly obscured the original stone supports and wooden braces had recently been added as well to make sure the whole thing did not come crashing down around their ears. Here and there was hung an odd electric light or two, but for the most part the passage was exceedingly dim. It was much cooler than the surface as well. Their time off was sweltering during the day so the other GAs actually loved working down here for that reason. Elizabeth however, had always felt uneasy down in the Pit on her shifts. She never wanted to be left alone, and not just because she feared Bradley cornering her again either. Elizabeth was not sure why, but she inexplicably felt like some sort of invader, as if she did not belong. That feeling seemed intensified today. Her colleagues’ euphoria felt somehow perverse, like telling jokes at a funeral. If they noticed her discomfort at all however, they showed no sign. For their part, they seemed positively giddy with the elation of finally having found something worthwhile after all. The passage was not particularly long, but it was narrow and clogged with scaffolding and equipment. This made the going extremely slow. It did not help that Dr. Michaels round belly kept getting caught in places either. Eventually however, the project chief called a halt. He turned and stood in their path still grinning from ear to ear. He took the light from Jeremy and hung it from a nearby beam. The dim fluorescent illumination cast disturbing shadows across his face as it swayed gently back and fourth.

"I want all of you to well remember this day!" he proclaimed grandly. "Because it very well may be recalled as the day we began unraveling the mystery of what really happened to the Arakh Bohri! Today we have discovered the evidence we have long sought! We have discovered what may turn out to hold the key to answering so many of our questions. Behold!"

He stepped to the side and allowed the light to shine on the floor behind him. Elizabeth was not immediately sure what it was she beheld. She took a tentative step nearer.

"Come on Lizzy," taunted Bradley contemptuously. "Not afraid of the dark are you? Want me to hold your hand?"

His tone enraged her. All uneasiness was immediately forgotten. Elizabeth pushed her way forward determinedly and looked down. Her breath caught in her throat. One by one, the other dig team members filed by beside her to see. They were forced to look over or around the slight Asian woman however, because Elizabeth’s feet seemed strangely rooted to the spot. She did not seem physically capable of looking away and felt tears coming to her eyes.

"Aren’t they magnificent!" gushed Dr. Michaels. "Aren’t they exquisite! Almost perfectly preserved! Once we can get some better equipment down here we can really get to work. Who knows? I’d wager we could even get a DNA sample if we’re very lucky!"

Elizabeth did not think what she saw before her was "exquisite". Perhaps it was her own melancholy state lately, but what she stared at now as if mesmerized simply seemed sad… sad and beautiful. A fat tear rolled down her cheek. There in the floor before her, carefully brushed clean of dust and sand were two skeletons. One was larger, the other smaller, but they lay there in the floor together as if sleeping, just as they had done over five thousand years ago when they died. Their heads rested gently against each other. Their skeletal bodies were pressed close, arms entwined in one last, eternal embrace.

Very shortly, Elizabeth was weeping in earnest.

***

Elizabeth sat alone on the back of the water truck watching the sun sink behind the dunes. It was already starting to cool, but she was again dressed only in her Umbros and sports bra as she watched the blaring yellow light of day dim to pink, then orange, then purple. She was honestly a bit embarrassed by her emotional display in the Pit earlier and needed some alone time, but even now, hours later, she could not get the ancient, doomed couple out of her head. Who had they been? What had happened to them? When they had lain down together that last time, had they known that they would never again awaken? She hugged herself at the thought. Elizabeth heard a noise behind her. It was the sound of nervously shuffling feet and she whirled angrily, ready to blast Bradley for bothering her. In her current emotional state, she was not prepared to put up with the man’s foolishness at all. Elizabeth clamped her mouth shut at the last possible moment however.

"Am I bothering you?" Jeremy asked shyly.

"No Jeremy," Elizabeth sighed heavily, sat back down on the water truck’s hard steel bumper, and put her head back in her hands. "I… I’m just thinking…"

"You’re thinking about the two Arakh Bohris," he spoke in a deep, velvety, matter-of-fact voice. "They’re something else aren’t they? A little sad?"

Elizabeth nodded silently.

"You gonna be OK?" he asked solicitously.

"I think so…" she ran her hands through her sweaty hair and clenched her eyes tightly closed for a moment. "I feel like such an idiot! I looked like I’d never seen a dead body before! I’m supposed to be a professional anthropologist for Christ’s sake and I start blubbering like a baby the first time we come across a couple of skeletons! Bradley’s absolutely gonna love this. He’ll never let me live it down and Dr. Michaels treated me like an idiot already anyway! I…I just… I just wanna go home, Jeremy. This trip has been a disaster from the start!"

"Care if I sit with you a minute?" Jeremy asked quietly in response.

He did not otherwise move a muscle. It made Elizabeth smile a little. He was actually waiting for her permission. Had she gotten so used to Bradley’s vicious tongue and general crassness that a little common courtesy could charm her so? Then again, maybe it was just Jeremy. He was not exactly bad to look at. His carefully shaved ebony scalp was perfectly round and his strong facial features emitted a profound feeling of both great strength and perpetual good humor. It was calming just to be near him, Elizabeth found.

"Sure," she shrugged absently. "It’s a big bumper. Have a seat."

Jeremy seated himself next to her, but far enough away to be polite.

"You’ve been having a rough time lately, Lizzy," he began slowly. "I’ve seen it. Emily’s seen it. Should have done something about it earlier. Bradley’s a scumbag. I’m sorry."

"Why are you sorry, Jeremy?" asked Elizabeth in puzzlement. "You didn’t do anything. I’m the one who just made a fool of myself."

"Well, that’s just why, Lizzy," Jeremy shrugged helplessly. "Don’t know why, but we didn’t do anything to keep Bradley from bothering you. We both knew it was really getting to you. You’ve been miserable almost since we got here and he’s the biggest reason why. Maybe its ‘cause he’s so buddy-buddy with Dr. M.… I don’t know…Emily’s scared of him, but I could have done something a lot earlier. Anyway… I just wanted to say… You don’t need to worry about him anymore…"

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and waited. When Jeremy did not offer any further information she smiled and gave the big black man a playful push.

"Come on Jeremy, give!" she chided in mock seriousness. "You can’t say something like that then just leave me to wonder! What did you do?"

Jeremy smiled and shrugged again. "Nothing much really," he answered totally non-informatively. "Nothing I really wanted to do. I just explained things to him."

"You explained things to him?" Elizabeth asked dubiously.

"Cause and effect type stuff," he continued mysteriously. "Newtonian physics."

"Physics?" Elizabeth chuckled.

"For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction?" he laughed shortly. "I’m sure you’ve heard of it before… I’m not going to tell you more. Deniability kind of thing… I just explained that if he acted around you anymore, then I might just have to react, if you know what I’m saying. Anyway, he won’t bother you anymore. An’ if he does… Well… You just be sure an’ tell me about it. OK?"

Elizabeth smiled at him gratefully. "Thanks Jeremy… That… That’s a big help."

"Well, it’s about time he started respecting your position Doctor," Jeremy smiled, gave her shoulder an awkward squeeze, and stood up. He started to walk away, but then turned back hesitantly. "And uh… Lizzy?"

"Yeah?"

"Why don’t you just call me J." He shuffled his feet nervously again. "That’s what my friends call me."

"Sure," she answered quickly with a smile. "J."

"Oh!" Jeremy ducked his head and slapped his knees with a hearty laugh. "That’s not even why I came up here in the first place! Dr. Michaels just got the weather forecast in for tonight. A sandstorm’ll be blowing in soon. It’s supposed to be bad too. We need you to come down and help tie everything down. You know it can take just one bad night out here to cover up months of digging. Walk with me?"

"Sure, J." Elizabeth got up and slid her tiny arm in the crook of his massive one. Hers looked almost like that of a child by comparison. His rock hard bicep beneath her delicately tiny fingers felt comforting. It took all of her professional self control not to lean her head against it.

"I guess, I better go face everyone anyway," Elizabeth continued fatally. "I don’t suppose it will get any easier by waiting."

"Ah, don’t worry about it," reassured Jeremy with another broad smile. "Emily’s cool. I’m cool. Who gives a crap about Bradley… I’m guessing you don’t care about what Dr. M thinks too much either. None of the local guys speak English, so they don’t know anything about it. See? It’s all good."

Elizabeth had to admit that as they headed back toward the excavation site, she did feel a great deal better. Just as Jeremy had said, once they arrived, it appeared no one was thinking about her crying spell at all. The dig was a frenzy of activity. Workers rushed this way and that tying tarps down and covering excavations up. They had just begun packing away the more sensitive pieces of their equipment when the winds started to rise.

Jeremy left her to help lift some of the bigger pieces onto the back of a flatbed truck. Not being much of a lifter herself, Elizabeth went over to assist with the covering. She worked frantically, trying to get everything situated, secured, and tied down before finding cover herself. One particularly stubborn canvas sheet was just a bit too short and did not seem to want to stay tied. As she single-mindedly struggled with the ropes that were supposed to hold it in place, she barely noticed the steadily building chaos around her. The wind continued to pick up until sand whipped in her face making it difficult to see. From somewhere nearby she heard a voice yell for everyone to take cover. Elizabeth redoubled her efforts with the stubborn cable. She would show them she was no emotional wreck. She might be young. She might be little, but she was still a capable professional. If this thing broke loose it could cost them literally weeks of work. She bent to her appointed task intently. Then she heard it.

Elizabeth looked up just in time to see a massive tidal wave of swirling black barreling towards the camp from the west. With a roar like a rumbling freight train it came. The wall of sable fury must have been three hundred feet tall at least and was so dark that she could not image a black hole being any darker. It was the single most terrifying thing she had ever seen in her life. It looked like death. Although Elizabeth knew she should run, knew she should take cover, all she could do was stand and stare dumbly at the awesome sight, the stubborn ropes of the tarp clutched uselessly in her white-knuckled hands.

"Lizzy!"

The sound was barely audible over the cacophony of the sand storm. The whirling grit made it difficult to see. She turned in every direction, but still could not divine where it had come from.

"Lizzy!" the voice came again, more faintly than before.

"I’m here!" Elizabeth cried as loudly as she could.

Sand immediately filled her mouth, choking her. Her words seemed to be swallowed up by the thunderous gale so that it seemed difficult for even she herself to hear them. Suddenly she had a great deal of difficulty telling left from right or even up from down for that matter. All Elizabeth could perceive was a swirling void of stinging sand. She began staggering forward in the direction she thought she remembered as going back into the camp. Elizabeth knew that if she could get back to one of the service trucks or earth movers, she could find some measure of protection beneath. Each step seemed a struggle. The high winds pushed and jostled her slight figure so that she lurched across the sand in a drunken line. Very shortly, she had no idea where she was at all.

"I’m here!" Elizabeth screamed again in desperation.

It felt as though she stood in the path of a sand blaster, as though the bitter winds were scouring the flesh from her bones. She knew that if she did not get to shelter soon, she might be covered over or simply wander off into the desert. Elizabeth saw the doomed couple in her mind’s eye. She imagined herself suddenly, lying beneath the dry ocean of white, nothing but bleached bones for some group of nosey university students to find and pick through a thousand years in the future. The idea drove her to a near panic.

"Help me!" she shrieked into the gale, her words all but swallowed. "Please someone! Help me!"

Elizabeth staggered on, doing her best to protect her burning eyes from the scouring blast with her arm. Still she could see nothing. She walked blindly, not knowing if she was headed back into the camp or deeper into the surrounding desert wastes. Then something hit her. The impact was enough to blur her vision and leave her head aching. Dark spots danced before her eyes. At first Elizabeth thought that she had been struck by some flying piece of debris, but quickly realized that there was something in front of her blocking her path. The sand was blowing so hard now that she had to very nearly touch her nose to the impediment to tell what it was. She ran her hands urgently across its rough, stone surface. It was a wall of the house they were excavating. It had to be!

Totally blinded by this point, Elizabeth proceeded slowly. She pressed her body against the rough-hewn sandstone as desperately as she might have clutched a life preserver in the deep ocean. She stepped carefully, feeling her way along with her hands, never once breaking contact with the rough masonry wall. She knew that if she could get inside the structure, it would afford her some degree of protection from the brutal winds. The roaring of the gale grew louder. It was almost like an explosion that went on and on and on, never ceasing. Elizabeth resisted the urge to plug her ears with her fingers with every fiber of her being, determinedly battling the temptation to break contact with the wall for even a second. She took a slightly larger step, desperate to be out of the searing wind.

Elizabeth was falling.

For a breathless instant she felt weightless. It was as if the void she had imagined had suddenly become one in reality. Almost as soon as the thought flickered through her brain however, her knees struck crushingly on the hard, uneven stone below her. Elizabeth screamed in agony as searing pain flashed through her lower extremities. She tried to stand, but blinding misery exploded all through her legs. Tears came to her eyes, but she bit her lip and tried to calm herself. The swirling sand still bit and stung all around her, but she forced herself to think logically, though raving hysteria fought her tooth and nail to take control. She had to be in the house. There were no other stone structures around. The only place she could have fallen was into the basement they were excavating. If she could just drag herself out of the wind, Elizabeth would be safe.

She pulled herself forward painfully. Each movement sent new screaming misery through her badly broken legs. As she crept slowly forward however, Elizabeth felt hope rise in her breast. Every inch she advanced, the stinging bite of the sandstorm seemed less intense. At last, when she no longer felt the whipping sand scraping her skin raw, she collapsed bonelessly to the hard, stone floor. Elizabeth felt the miserable throbbing of her shattered knees. She felt the course white sand on the floor scraping against her cheek. Then everything went black.

***

Elizabeth was unsure how long she lay unconscious, but she was sure it had been quite some time. As her eyes fluttered painfully open, the first thing she noticed was the silence. The only sound was her own labored breathing. However long she had lain here in the basement corridor of the Arakh Bohri house, it had been long enough that the fearsome sandstorm above had blown itself out, apparently. The second thing she noticed was the lighting. Elizabeth could see. That by itself would not have been anything particularly noteworthy. The inside of the structure she was in had long ago been wired for electricity by the previous shift of excavators. However, the fitful light illuminating her vision was neither the harsh white glow of sunlight from the exit nor the fitful gleam of flickering fluorescent bulbs. The dim light instead appeared rather blue.

Thinking of the exit, Elizabeth turned to look behind her, though she soon wished that she had not. Even that slight movement sent fresh waves of fiery agony ripping through her damaged lower body. When the pain subsided however, what Elizabeth saw made her heart constrict almost as painfully in her breast. Mere inches behind her feet was the base of an enormous pile of sand. It stretched all the way to the ceiling. It totally filled the corridor behind her from wall to wall. No hint of the ramp to the surface was evident at all. Her breath began to come in shuddering gasps. None of it seemed to be reaching her lungs. Elizabeth felt panic begin to take her. She was trapped.

"Help me!" she screamed into the gloom. "Someone help me! I’m here! I’m here! Help me!"

Elizabeth screamed until her voice was raw and her throat began to hurt. Yet no matter how long or how loudly she shouted, the only response to her pleas was the same oppressive silence. Was anyone looking for her? Had they noticed her missing? Surely Jeremy would look for her at least, but would he think to dig down here again to search? What if they did not? There was no water. How long would it be before she succumbed to dehydration? Would there be yet a third skeleton to decorate the Arakh Bohri ruins?

Elizabeth realized she was getting hysterical and forced herself yet again to calm. She needed to think about her situation calmly and logically she knew. There was still light down here. It had to be coming from somewhere. Could it not be that the same sandstorm that had blocked up the entrance here had opened up another further back? She had to go check. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she dragged herself forward slowly across the sandy stone floor. Every movement was a misery. Every inch of progress made her whimper, but she forced herself on. There had to be a way out of here. There just had to be!

After what seemed like an eternity of painful creeping, Elizabeth realized that there was something beneath her outstretched hand besides white grainy sand. It was long and hard and felt like rock or… She looked up and screamed. The toe bone of the larger of the skeletons lay beneath her weakly grasping fingers. She chided herself at once. These two would certainly not hurt her. Elizabeth felt silly for her fright, then had to chuckle at herself anew. Again her overreaction had embarrassed her, although there was no one else to see and certainly more important things for her to be worrying about. To her disappointment, after looking around the room, no additional exit was immediately visible. Her initial impulse was to be dejected, but as desperate as her plight certainly was, still Elizabeth was curious. What could be making the blue light?

Pushing aside her residual discomfort about the skeletal lovers, she continued pulling herself forward. The fitful, azure gleam seemed to be coming from the smaller skeleton’s hand. Elizabeth struggled very nearly on top of the two. Again she paused to look at them. Elizabeth was nearly moved to tears again by the sight of them though she knew not why. There was something about their eternal embrace that seemed both heart rendingly tragic and unspeakably beautiful. The feeling only grew as she reached tentative fingers toward the light. She removed the shining object carefully by its slender, golden chain. It seemed heavier than it looked and the beauty of it made her catch her breath. Given the size of the stone and weight of the gold alone, it had to be incomparably valuable. Then on top of that, given its antiquity, it was certain to be almost priceless. At first glance the stone appeared to be a marble sized sapphire, but Elizabeth could think of no reason for its mysterious luminescence. She touched the stone to get a better look.

As soon as her fingers brushed the cool, hard surface, it felt as if her veins were flooded with ice water and her eyes gaped in response. Voices assailed her in a language she did not know. Images flooded her brain of cities she had never seen – cities of stone, of sand, but of life. It felt as if a thousand voices were babbling all at the same time, but one seemed to rise over and stand out above the rest. Although it spoke in words she had never in her life heard before, Elizabeth understood them.

"… matters as long as I’m with you," a deep masculine voice crooned soothingly. "One day, someone will find the stone. They will know the love we shared. Then, my desert flower, my dearest one, then we shall live again…"

Again Elizabeth was falling, but no crushing impact rose up to stop her descent this time. The unknown man’s words seemed to enter her heart and take root. They grew within her, filling her utterly. Then she felt the woman as well. Elizabeth knew them. She could not have described what it was she experienced, but it stole her breath and shook her to her emotional core. She suddenly knew these ancient people better than her parents, better than her dearest friends, perhaps more deeply than she even knew herself. She did not know how or why, but Elizabeth was inexplicably overwhelmed by joy. It was a joy so complete, so fulfilling, that it felt she would never need anything else ever again – neither food, nor shelter nor clothing, nor another word from another human being for the rest of her life. However, it was also a joy mixed with an indescribable sadness. Elizabeth began to weep at the utter completeness of it - their joy, their grief, their indomitable love.

"My god…" she whispered into the dimness. No other words would come as tears began to flow down her cheeks in rivers. Sobs wracked her body and she felt both euphorically ecstatic and desolately devastated at the same time. She clutched the gem tightly against her heaving breast.

"Oh my god…"

Then Elizabeth fell, and fell, and fell, and…

***

When she woke again, she knew a moment of confusion. What had happened? She had had such a strange dream. There had been a sand storm and blue light and… It was hard to remember.She sat up and thoughtlessly let fall the coarse linen sheet under which she had slept, exposing her bared breasts. With a squeak she clutched her bedding close once again. Why was she… She shook her head in confusion. Why would she not be naked? Would she have slept in her clothes? Ridiculous! And who was around to see her anyway? Where was her head this morning? She chided herself severely. Today of all days!

Slowly she rose from her thin mat of reeds, stretched, and walked over to the clay water jar in the corner. She bathed and shaved herself quickly. Then she took a clean kalisaris wrap from the basket that held her clothes, donned it with practiced ease, and quickly painted her eyes dark with kohl. The water jar was nearly empty, so she would need to go and fill it from the village well right away. This morning she had much to do, she thought with a smile. Wapwaweti would be coming home today. She giggled to herself happily at the thought. He had promised to return on the first day after the new moon. That was today. He had been gone so long! But soon he would arrive on his first leave of absence from his duties to the High Priest of Thoth at Thebes.

Six long months Wapwaweti had been away. Scarcely a week after their marriage he had left. That had been too bad, but this had been an opportunity he could not lightly pass over. When the high priest’s summons had come, both of them had been overjoyed. There had been no question that Wapwaweti would go. Honestly it had been the answer to their prayers. Wapwaweti was Nubian. He had fought for the pharaoh against the Canaanites, but since the end of that conflict he had been left to ferment at the local guard post here in this miserable backwater of Arakh Bohr. They had first met shortly after he arrived.

An alley thief had stolen her basket at market. It had been filled with all the groceries she had bought and her remaining money besides. Wapwaweti had chased the scoundrel down, retrieved her belongings, then walked her home besides. After that they had seen a great deal of each other. He had been an enigma to her. On the one hand, he was frightfully strong and capable of positively brutal violence in his work, but ever as gentle and quiet as a lamb in his way with her. He made her feel safe and loved in a way she had never experienced before. So of course, they courted only very briefly before they married.

She had lived her whole life in this city. She liked living here for the most part. She honestly knew no place else. However, she also understood all too well that the remote caravan stop was, to put it mildly, less than optimal for her husband’s career aspirations. His salary had been meager and he quite frankly was getting no younger. His greatest fear had been languishing away until his arm no longer knew the heft of a khopesh, and all chance for advancement and valor had fled.

The unexpected promotion had only added to the joy of their marriage. Their honeymoon had been blissful but brief. She had not managed to get with child, but not for wont of trying! She thought, as her brown cheeks blushed furiously red at the memory. This time she meant to do it right. She spared herself another wicked grin. This time she would make sure that her husband was thorough. Before that however, there was a great deal to prepare. Everything had to be absolutely perfect for his arrival. There was water to fetch, food to buy at the market, and after that, of course, a meal to prepare. Then she herself also had to look perfect for her champion’s triumphant return.

She sighed in contentment, hugging herself excitedly. Today would be busy, but it would be a pleasant sort of diligence. She had honestly anticipated this day since almost the instant of Wapwaweti’s departure. As pleased as she certainly was about the unexpected good turn their fortunes seemed to have taken, she still achingly missed him. She hummed a happy tune as she left the house, carrying the now empty water jar. The building in which the newlyweds had made their home was a two-story structure, the only one in town. They lived on the first floor at street level, and their pleasant, if nosey landlady lived on the floor above. Just as she was shutting the door behind her, a shrill elderly voice blared from the window on the second floor.

"Qeteshkhnemet!" old Reshwet shouted from above. "Qeteshkhnemet! Qete girl! Don’t you hear me?"

It took Qeteshkhnemet a moment to respond. That was not her name was it? Her name was… Was it not… The thought evaporated almost as soon as it entered her head. Of course that was her name. What else would it be? She turned and waved at Reshwet with her free hand.

"I’m sorry Reshwet!" Qeteshkhnemet called with a dazzling smile. "I didn’t mean to ignore you! I’m just a bit frazzled today, I suppose."

"I just wondered where you were off to so early this morning!" the old lady responded, still shouting. She was honestly going a bit deaf. "Nothing wrong I hope!"

"Oh no, Reshwet!" called back Qeteshkhnemet with another laugh. "Nothing like that. Wapwaweti is coming home today!"

"Ha!" cackled Reshwet merrily. "Well, it’s about time, isn’t it?! You put that young man of yours to work when he gets here! I want some little ones to play with in my old age. Remind him of his husbandly duty, will you!"

"You needn’t fear that!" Qeteshkhnemet called back, again blushing bright crimson. "I’ve already got everything planned. I just need to go buy a few things."

"Well, go carefully girl!" crowed Reshwet good-naturedly. "And give my best to Wapwaweti for me if you run into him first!"

Qeteshkhnemet was practically skipping on her way to the well. She arrived well before it usually got crowded and filled her jar quickly. It was quite heavy and she knew that she would have to drop it off before going to market, but there was plenty of time. She really did not expect Wapwaweti until some time after Re, the sun god, began his descent anyway.

"Well, well, well," the drawling voice behind her brought Qeteshkhnemet up short. "Up early aren’t we Qete?"

Qeteshkhnemet turned slowly. There was only one thing, one person really, who could dampen her euphoria today. As she looked behind her, hoping against hope that she was mistaken, that one detestable person appeared right before her eyes. He was wearing a fine linen kilt that might have once been white, but had faded to a rather yellowish shade of tan. His bared chest was sunken and thin and he stood with a hunched, almost malformed posture that was not pleasant to look upon in the least. It was apparent that he had not shaved his body in several days and bluish stubble liberally decorated his chest, face, and legs. Given his disheveled state, one would never guess he was a City Councilor. He was evidently on a binge again. Even at this distance, he reeked of stale beer. Qeteshkhnemet wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"What do you want, Mesesdjse," she asked coldly. "I’m busy today. I have much to do and no time for idle chatter with the likes of you."

"Why must you be so cold to me, Qete?" he whined nasally as he took a step nearer. "I’m just concerned about you… All alone for months and months in that big old house with no one but that old crone of a land lady for company… I don’t know why you refuse to let me help you. Surely, you must be lonely. I would be more than happy to keep you company. I’m quite rich you know. I would take good care of you. You would want for nothing…"

Qeteshkhnemet did not fail to note the blatant hunger in Mesesdjse’s eyes as he spoke. He seemed to look through her kalisaris to the bare flesh beneath. It made her intensely uncomfortable. The very idea of being more than a few yards from this man nauseated her. Touching him? A shudder of revulsion ran through her body. She took a step away from him deliberately as he took another nearer.

"I am quite alright, I assure you," she stated shortly, trying to infuse her voice with as much ice as possible. "You need not trouble yourself… Or me either for that matter. Good day to you, sir." Qeteshkhnemet spun on her heel and stalked away.

"You won’t be able to resist me forever, Qete!" Mesesdjse shouted after her retreating form. "You won’t be young forever either! Who will look after you in your old age? I am friends with the governor! I am a man of means! You’re husband has abandoned you for a riotous life in the big city! Do you think he pines for you the way you do for him? Do you think he has known no other women while he has been away? While he shares his seed with every harlot in Thebes you remain childless! But I… I will be loyal. I will give you sons, Qete. Do you hear me? Sons!"

Qeteshkhnemet shuddered again at the thought. She would sooner trust a crocodile in her bed as that, that… "Grease ball…" she muttered in disgust. Then she wrinkled her nose in confusion. Where had that come from? What did it even mean? She shook her head dismissively. In any case, wealthy or not, the man was thoroughly disgusting. He pestered her nearly every day and Qeteshkhnemet was sick of it. Honestly, one of the things she was most looking forward to about her husband’s return was being rescued from Mesesdjse’s clumsy, daily ministrations.

She dropped off the jug and quickly collected her basket for market. The sky was blue and clear and it looked to be shaping into a perfectly beautiful day. It was still early as she headed to the other side of Arakh Bohr. The memory of her unpleasant encounter with Mesesdjse began to fade and Qeteshkhnemet began humming the same happy tune from before.

The market was not yet crowded and she completed her shopping quickly. She bought the best flour available for the flat bread she would make and spent what amounted to a small fortune on a prime haunch of lamb at the butcher’s. Then she went to the brewer’s stall and purchased three large jugs of beer.

"Looks like you’re doing some serious shopping today, Qete," the brewer noted good-naturedly, slapping his broad round belly, which sagged visibly over the belt of his fine linen kilt. "What’s the occasion?"

The brewer’s name was Wersé. He was a hugely fat, hairless Egyptian from Memphis. Qeteshkhnemet had known him almost her whole life and had often patronized his bazaar stall with her mother growing up. He was a loud, pleasant, older man with a ready laugh and an easy smile.

"Wapwaweti is coming home," she replied with a giddy smile of her own. It was very nearly time and she could hardly wait!

"Today or tomorrow?" Wersé frowned worriedly.

His sudden apparent gloom took Qeteshkhnemet a bit aback. She only managed to stutter her response. "Well… Today," she answered uncertainly. "Why?"

"Oh" well that’s alright then!" Wersé laughed heartily again slapping his broad, bare belly a second time. "I’m sorry… You and your man have a real fine evening then. I apologize."

"What’s the matter?" pressed Qeteshkhnemet curiously, still perplexed by the fat man’s strange reaction. "What’s wrong with tomorrow?"

"Oh it’s nothing really…" he demurred, smilingly. "Don’t you worry yourself about it…"

Qeteshkhnemet’s resolve-filled gaze nagged at him however. She stared at him steadily, waiting patiently for him to continue.

"It’s just that… Well…" He took a deep breath. "The priests of Set have read the stars and predicted that tomorrow will be a day of extremely dire portent.

"The priests of Set?" replied Qeteshkhnemet dubiously.

"I know, I know," replied Wersé quickly. "It’s probably nothing. You know how they are, always trying to get folks stirred up… but still… They recommend not making any major decisions or starting any journey’s tomorrow. I’ve already decided not to open and stay home… but I suppose if Wapwaweti is coming back today that you’ll be staying home tomorrow anyway! Right?" he finished with another hearty laugh that seemed just a bit forced.

Qeteshkhnemet smiled, paid the man, and promised to be careful. She did not exactly hold too well with the priests of Set. They were an unsavory lot in her opinion, always making mischief in their devotion to the Lord of Chaos. Of course, if tomorrow really was a day of ill omen… She shrugged. Wersé was right. Once she had her husband back in her bed, she did not mean to let him leave it again for quite some time! They would just sleep through tomorrow and avoid any bad luck they might encounter all together! Qeteshkhnemet smiled at the thought and looked up at the sun. It was about three fourths of the way to its zenith. There was still plenty of time most likely, but she decided that it might not be a bad idea to take a shortcut home and avoid the crowds of people that would surely be clogging the main thoroughfares by now. She wanted everything to be ready and waiting on Wapwaweti when he arrived. So caught up was she in her daydreams about the celebration the two of them would enjoy together, Qeteshkhnemet did not notice that she was being followed.

She tried to make her way home quickly, but soon realized that she must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. Qeteshkhnemet growled to herself in frustration, as she turned down yet another alleyway that she did not recognize. Of all the silly things to do! Granted, she did not use the back streets often, but to lose her way home from the market of all places! This was sure to make her late and she could not bear the thought of that. What if Wapwaweti was to come home to an empty house? That would be awful! Qeteshkhnemet hastened her steps, again taking a turn that she thought would lead back in the general direction of her home. She pulled up short and cursed quietly to herself. A dead end. She sighed deeply and tried to collect herself. She had lived in this city her entire life. If she could just calm herself down and think about it, she was sure she would find her way quite easily. The one thing of which she was certain however, was that it did no good at all to stand and stare at a blank wall when she could be on her way. Qeteshkhnemet turned back the way she had come, squeaked, and dropped her basket in surprise. Her carefully gathered groceries fell to the dusty street and scattered.

"What a happy accident," Mesesdjse’s acid voice was unmistakable. "Here I’ve happened upon you again. Twice in one day! But what on earth are you doing on this side of town." His voice took on a decidedly throaty, husky tone.

"It could be dangerous you know… It’s dangerous for someone so young and pretty to be in a neighborhood like this by herself." He took a step toward her. "We should escort you… Take you home. Make sure you’re alright… Maybe then… Maybe then you’ll show us some… gratitude?"

It was then that Qeteshkhnemet realized that Mesesdjse was not alone. Two other equally grimy looking men flanked him. One was tall and fat, the other shorter and thinner, but still much larger than she. She did not like the hungry glint in their eyes.

"I’ll be just fine, I’m sure." Qeteshkhnemet focused all of her resolve into staying calm, but could not completely keep the quiver of fear from her voice. "Thank you though. Its kind of you to offer, Councilor… I think I can manage though. I’ll just be on my way now…" She tried to brush past them, groceries forgotten.

"But you’re leaving all of your things!" protested Mesesdjse stepping directly in her path. "I’m sure they were quite expensive. Perhaps you meant to share them with us?"

"Take whatever you want!" Qeteshkhnemet blurted, in a near panic. She was not exactly sure why, but she was suddenly terrified. "Just let me go! I’m… I’m in a hurry… I… I need to go home."

Again Qeteshkhnemet tried to push her way past the three men, but Mesesdjse remained firmly rooted in her path. He insinuated himself close against her, his lips mere inches from her cheek. His breath was rank with beer. His touch made her skin crawl. He grasped her waist and pulled her close against him.

"Since you’ve invited us…" he breathed heavily, his chest heaving in anticipation. "Perhaps we will… Take what we want…"

Qeteshkhnemet’s eyes widened in horrified comprehension.

"NO!!!" she screamed raggedly, trying vainly to push away. "No! Please! Please let me go! LET ME GO!!!"

Mesesdjse’s two companions came forward to pinion her arms firmly behind her back. One put a dirty hand firmly over her mouth. Mesesdjse himself continued to murmur huskily as he hungrily pawed her.

"In a minute, in a minute…" He gripped her kalisaris firmly in both hands, then pulled it violently downward. "Or maybe…" he glanced wickedly at his two companions. "Three minutes?"

Qeteshkhnemet bit down firmly on a finger covering her lips, though the accumulated filth thereon made her gag. The man roared in pain and dropped his hand.

"NO!!!" she cried in fear. "LET ME GO!!!" She lurched in their grasp lashing about with her head. She tried to bite the hands holding her. She tried to yank her arms free to claw them with her long nails. The men were forced to adjust their grip, but still she could not get free. She screamed wordlessly, thrashing this way and that in the men’s iron grasp. Qeteshkhnemet began sobbing in earnest. Not today. How could this happen today of all days? This was supposed to be a happy day. The happiest day! Tomorrow was supposed to be ill omened, but not today! "Not today! Not Today!" she kept screaming without really comprehending her own words. "Please, not today!"

"If not today then when, dear Qete?" asked Mesesdjse in cruel sarcasm. "Shall we make an appointment? But you might not find the time again so soon! I must really insist that it be now, today, while you’re not busy."

"Please no!" she wept hysterically. "Not today! Any day but today! Wapwaweti is coming today! I have to make dinner! Wapwaweti is coming! I have to be home when he gets there! I have to go home! He’s coming! Wapwaweti’s coming! I want Wapwaweti! I want him! I want Wapwaweti! I want…"

"Wapwaweti is here."

The deep resonant words were spoken softly, but the three men all turned towards the sound as if it had been a shout. Behind them in the alley stood a giant. That is what it appeared to be at least. At first they were unsure if it was really a man at all, rather it seemed to be Anubis, or Apis, or even Osiris himself in human guise. The man was not simply black. He was obsidian. Hard brown eyes stared out menacingly from his cleanly shaven ebony face. Enormous arm and chest muscles tensed visibly beneath hairless skin in the clear light of late morning as his keenly-sharpened, sickle-shaped khopesh slid slowly from his broad leather belt. He was wearing a pristinely white kilt of the finest linen, and his belt was buckled with beautifully tooled bronze. Around his neck was the ibis-headed, golden medallion of Thoth. Mesesdjse swallowed visibly.

"Why hello there, Wapwaweti," he offered lamely. "I didn’t realize you were in town…"

Wapwaweti advanced on him wordlessly, murder burning in his bright, angry eyes.

"Get him!" Mesesdjse screamed desperately as he drew a wickedly curved dagger.

His two companion pushed Qeteshkhnemet roughly to the ground and produced weapons of their own. With blood curdling war cries the three men charged Wapwaweti, trying to take him in a rush. The giant Nubian was no stranger to battle however. He was ready for them. He easily side-stepped Mesesdjse’s wildly stabbing blade and neatly separated the head from the shoulders of his largest attacker in one fluid motion. So swift and clean was his blow that the headless body took two more steps before collapsing heavily in a bloody heap.

The smaller of Mesesdjse’s companions threw his dagger end over end at Wapwaweti’s head, but the agile warrior neatly deflected the missile. Then he closed the distance between them in two steps. He struck the man such a blow to his middle that he very nearly cut him completely in half. By this time Mesesdjse had struggled to his feet from where he had fallen. He looked wildly from one companion to the other, both suddenly, very graphically deceased. Then his eyes locked on Wapwaweti. The spindly man gave a vicious snarl of a challenge, but as the giant Nubian turned towards him, he apparently lost his courage. Mesesdjse threw down his dagger and sped off the way he had come as fast as his legs would carry him.

Qeteshkhnemet lay quivering in the street, convulsed with weeping. Wapwaweti wiped his blade off on the headless man’s kilt, sheathed it, then rushed over to his distraught wife. He collected her gently in his big arms with no more effort than he would have exerted in picking up a child. He held her to his chest tenderly and began walking from the alleyway.

"Wait," choked Qeteshkhnemet brokenly. "The food…"

Wapwaweti smiled gently. "Of course, little Qete." Without ever putting her down, the big man dutifully set to gathering Qeteshkhnemet’s scattered things. Then with her in one arm and the groceries in the other, Wapwaweti strode from the bloody back alley.

For a long time Qeteshkhnemet said nothing at all. She simply reveled in the feel of her husband’s hard, bare chest beneath her cheek. She breathed his musky scent like it was the most expensive of Theban perfumes. She clung to him desperately as if he might suddenly disappear, as if he was but a dream, a wonderful, yet impossible vision that would disperse into the ether upon waking. But Qeteshkhnemet knew Wapwaweti. He was no illusion. He was real. He was her own, and he was inexplicably, undeniably here with her now.

"You’re early," she murmured at last, very softly.

Wapwaweti threw back his head and laughed. It was a loud, hearty bark that immediately set her frayed nerves at ease. Perfect straight, white teeth shone like the sun in his wide, easy grin and his eyes sparkled merrily. Even after what had just almost happened, it suddenly felt as if nothing could be wrong while he was near.

"It looks like I was very nearly too late," he replied softly. "You’re just lucky I went to visit Wersé on my way home. He saw Mesesdjse lurking about watching you at the market. Then he sold him a jug of beer and watched him follow you. He told me that it had barely been a count of five hundred when I came over to him. I came to find you right away…"

Qeteshkhnemet shuddered again at the mention of the horrid councilor. Her heart was suddenly troubled.

"He’ll be furious you know," she murmured softly, once again burying her face in his chest. The feel of his bare flesh against hers was intoxicating. It made it very difficult for Qeteshkhnemet to think of anything else, but she was fearful. "He’s a councilor, even if not a very good one. I’m afraid this will make trouble for us… For you especially. He’s been a nuisance almost since the instant you left, but..."

"Has this happened before, my flower?" he asked severely, eyes turning suddenly hard.

"No," Qeteshkhnemet shook her head quickly. "Before it was always just words. He would try to woo me with his money and give me presents, but of course I never took them. He tried to make me doubt your love, telling me the most awful lies about what you were doing with other women in Thebes. He would suggest absolutely scandalous things that he wanted to do with me. He even offered to pay me for them like a common harlot! But he never tried to touch me, not until today."

Wapwaweti visibly relaxed at her words. His broad smile was quickly back in place.

"Well then little Qete," he murmured softly, giving her brow a fond kiss and squeezing her tight. "Let us not think on it further. The way he reeked, he was obviously drunk. It was clearly self-defense. My only regret is that I did not skewer the snake before he slithered away… Only that, and that I have been away from you for too long, but I have great news to share. It is news that will shut Mesesdjse’s forked tongue behind his teeth for good, I think. Much has happened in my time at Thebes. May I take you home, my wife?"

"You may take me to bed Weti," she replied softly, but intensely. "You have been away too long, and I long for you terribly. You may say or do nothing else until you do that."

"Well then Qete," Wapwaweti laughed again, but a matching fire in his own eyes told Qeteshkhnemet clearly that his need was no less than hers. "Let us go home… and to bed…"

And with that they returned together, the earlier unpleasantness already all but forgotten.

***

In full obedience to his wife’s demand, Wapwaweti and Qeteshkhnemet made straight for their bed almost before the bar on the front door had slid completely into place. However, neither was inclined to do much sleeping. Even though they arrived home well, before noon, when they finally decided to turn their attention to other labors it was nearly dark outside. The meal they enjoyed together was not nearly as elaborate as the one Qeteshkhnemet had planned, but neither she nor her husband regretted the alternate use of their time in the least. Not completely independent of their recent labors, Wapwaweti was in a particularly fine mood. He jubilantly related the events in Thebes over the past long months in between large bites of his wife’s fine cooking.

"…And so to make a long story short," he concluded in between mouthfuls of roasted lamb rolled in flatbread. "Because, the Abbot was so impressed that I got the treasures of the tomb that was raided back, he recommended me to the High Priest personally. I am to return to Thebes immediately." He flashed a grin at Qeteshkhnemet’s visibly crestfallen expression. "Immediately after I collect my wife, that is. I am to be the captain of the high priest’s house guard and we are both invited to live at his estate!"

"You mean to say," exclaimed Qeteshkhnemet clapping her hands together in delight. "You mean to say that you will take me to Thebes with you!"

Wapwaweti nodded.

"Oh Weti!" Qeteshkhnemet cried happily as she rushed over to wrap her husband in a fierce embrace. "That’s wonderful news! That’s so exciting! I had always dreamed of course, but never really thought… Oh! I’m so happy! When will we leave?"

"My orders were ‘immediately’," Wapwaweti replied smilingly. "I had planned to meet you, collect our things and go, but perhaps tomorrow…"

"Tomorrow?" queried Qeteshkhnemet uncertainly. "I was told that tomorrow was ill-omened… Should we not avoid starting off then? I would not want to sour such a wonderful trip with ill-luck…"

"Well then!" Wapwaweti laughed indulgently. "Why don’t we go now! We shall gather a few clothes and stay this evening at an inn. That way our journey will not start tomorrow, but be merely continued. What do you say to that?"

"I think that fair!" laughed Qeteshkhnemet happily. "Only first… Before we go…" she looked deeply, meaningfully into her husband’s eyes.

Wapwaweti laughed merrily at her thinly veiled insinuation. With that they took another lengthy break from their evening meal on Qeteshkhnemet’s straw mat. When their passions were finally satisfied, they lay breathlessly together beneath the sheets, wrapped securely in the comforting warmth of each other’s arms. To Qeteshkhnemet, she could think of no place else she would rather be and snuggled against the huge Nubian even more closely.

"If we would go tonight, my Desert Flower," began Wapwaweti at last gently. "We should be on our way. But first, I have one other surprise for you…" He rolled over and reached for a large canvas bag that he had dropped in the floor when he came in. After rummaging around in it for a few minutes he apparently found what he was looking for. After helping his wife to sit up, Wapwaweti reached around Qeteshkhnemet’s neck to fasten a beautifully crafted necklace. It was a heavy gold chain and felt cool against her bare skin. A fat blue stone hung between her breasts, sparkling dazzlingly, as if lit with an inner fire of its own. Qeteshkhnemet inhaled sharply and wrapped Wapwaweti in another fierce hug when she saw it.

"Oh Weti!" she exclaimed in delight. It’s beautiful! Only…" she trailed off concernedly. "Wasn’t it expensive? Are you sure that we can..?"

"Don’t worry about that, Little Qete," he chuckled good-naturedly. "It was in fact a gift from the High Priest himself. I decided it would decorate your body far better than mine, but beauty is not the only thing about it that is special. It is blessed of Thoth. The High Priest called it a Remembrance Stone. If you hold it tightly in both hands and focus all of your thoughts on a particularly good memory, it will fill the stone. Then, whenever you wish, you may squeeze it and recall your fondest recollections as if they were happening all over again! At least that is what he told me."

"It’s beautiful Weti!" Qeteshkhnemet gushed appreciatively, hugging her husband tightly again. "I love it! Thank you so much! I can think of no better moment to save than this one right now! You’ve made me so happy! Today has been joy heaped upon joy! I…"

A forceful knock came battering at the door. It was loud and angry, as if the knocker wished to tear the wooden portal from it’s hinges.

"Open up Wapwaweti!" a furious voice from the other side screamed. "We know you’re in there! Surrender yourself or the consequences will be dire!"

Qeteshkhnemet paled markedly. She recognized the thin hateful voice.

"I’ve brought the watch with me Wapwaweti!" Mesesdjse raged from the other side of the door. "Now you'll have to answer to the Council for what you have done!"

"Be gone dog!" replied Wapwaweti contemptuously as he rose to his feet and casually put his kilt back on. "I already weary of your barking. I spared you once. Do you wish to test the bounds of my mercy again? You are lucky to be alive at all for what you tried to do!"

"And my body guards were unlucky I suppose?" Mesesdjse spat back furiously. "You are a foul murderer and the council will see to it that justice is served!"

"You are a liar and a bad one Mesesdjse!" shouted back Wapwaweti with even greater fury. "You ordered the fools you call guards to attack me after trying to rape my wife! Justice has been served already. Cease annoying me or I shall rip out your tongue. Then you shall have a reason to howl!"

"It is you who are the liar," he screamed in reply. "Qeteshkhnemet is nothing more than a whore I frequent, at a premium fee I might add! It is not I who should bare the brunt of your ire if she has deceived you! It is no crime to dally with a prostitute and simple murder to slay those who do so! My men died bravely protecting me from your insane jealousy at but learning the truth about your slut of a wife!"

Wapwaweti’s black face seemed to grow positively purple. He looked pointedly at Qeteshkhnemet. Her face was a mask of mortified shock. She seemed to have lost all powers of speech in her horrified surprise, but shook her head emphatically in wordless denial with her mouth open. Wapwaweti scowled deeply, barely keeping the violent fury that bubbled just beneath the surface in check.

"You are both a liar and a fool Mesesdjse!" the huge Nubian raged. "If you think I would ever believe your pathetic attempts to deceive me. Take back those words now or I swear to you they shall be the last you ever speak!"

"Even now you threaten!" laughed Mesesdjse triumphantly. "Every word you utter further proves your guilt! It is not I who shall die this day, Wapwaweti!"

"I am the guard captain of the High Priest of Thoth," proclaimed Wapwaweti proudly. "I answer to no one but he and the Pharaoh himself. Your "justice" is meaningless. Now on your knees dog, before I visit justice of my own upon your snake’s head!"

Wapwaweti’s threat seemed to give Mesesdjse pause. There was silence from the other side of the door for a long moment.

"I know no Wapwaweti Captain of the Guard!" he cried at last in response. "I know only Wapwaweti the least of the least of the militia of Arakh Bohr! Your lies will not save you from justice! Whether you claim to be a captain or the Pharaoh or even Amon-Ra or Osiris himself, your lies will not avail you! You shall be tied at the four stakes for the scavengers and scorpions to pick at before the day is out murderer!"

"You are wrong Mesesdjse!" shot back Wapwaweti through the door. "This day will not end without my blade buried in your lying stomach! I will cut out your heart for touching my Flower. No man may lay hands on Wapwaweti’s woman and live and you attempted far more than that!"

"You may make up whatever fantastic tales you wish, Wapwaweti," snarled back Mesesdjse. "It detracts not one whit from the truth. You murdered my body guards in cold blood and sought to do great physical harm to me yourself. Then you further emphasize your guilt by threatening me yet again here before all this assembly. Then you claim to be something great when you are lower than the dirt beneath my feet. It will go a great deal easier on you if you surrender. If we must come in after you it will be all the worse for you… and anyone else who might be in there with you! You have one five hundred count to decide!"

It was then that Qeteshkhnemet spared a glance out the one narrow window of their home. Mesesdjse was no longer filthy. He had evidently gone home to shave and wash himself. His eyes were freshly painted with kohl and he held the crook of his office arrogantly under his right arm. The street in front of the building was clogged with people. Neighbors, passersby, gawkers, and no fewer than thirty members of the city guard all stood without. The guards were armed with khopesh and bow. Four in particular caught her eye. They stood at the ready with a heavy bronze headed battering ram. Wapwaweti was mighty certainly, but even he could not hope to stand against their numbers. Qeteshkhnemet grasped his big arm desperately.

"It is me he wants, Weti," she pleaded desperately. "Maybe if I agree to go with him he will leave you alone. I know you think he would play me false, but if that proves so then I could drink hemlock and rob him of his prize! He would let you live! I could not bear it if you were hurt!"

"Dearest Qete," began Wapwaweti tenderly, holding her close, his fearful rage quelled almost at once. He looked down at her with desperately loving eyes. "I would not allow you to do that even if I thought it would work. That dog shall never touch you again. I was not simply speaking bold words. I have determined that Mesesdjse will indeed die this day, for his many crimes, those against you not least of all. But even if you were to do as you propose, it would not work. Yes, he certainly wanted you before, but for your sake I wounded his pride and sent him fleeing like the craven whipped dog he is. He has already decried you a harlot before the whole city. He could not take that back now, even if he wished it. It would prove him a liar in all he has said.

"Furthermore, he knows I am the Captain of the High Priest’s guard, he cannot risk that I will tell His Grace of his deeds. It would end him as councilor. At best he would allow me to leave, but send men to lay in wait for me on the road. You would be his until he tired of you, you thinking me on my way to Thebes to get aid. Then when you finally learned the truth, it would be too late. Mesesdjse would have already claimed what he wished from you and would leave you destitute and broken to go and accost another. I can not allow that…"

"But Wapwaweti," pressed Qeteshkhnemet desperately. "You cannot go out there! They will kill you! I could not bear that... What shall we do?"

Wapwaweti was silent for a long moment. He squeezed Qeteshkhnemet so tightly that she thought they might actually fuse together.

"I must, Qete," he murmured slowly. "Mesesdjse has grown bold indeed if the High Priest’s wrath holds no fear for him, my own either for that matter! He has become unreasoning in his wrath and jealousy. Whether by my hand or others it will surely destroy him. About that he now cares not at all. He only seeks to hurt me for the embarrassment I have caused him and you for your rejection of him.

"I have but one weakness and Mesesdjse knows it well. I cannot allow you to come to any harm. If I do not go out to him, he will kill you just to spite me. So I will go out. I will kill him with a curse on my lips in the name of Thoth. Then his men will kill me, but you will be safe and the rest will be in the hands of the gods"

"You are the holder of my heart, Weti, " Qeteshkhnemet swore fervently, bitter tears coming to her eyes. "No one can live without a heart. If you die, I perish with you. If you must die this evening then I would sooner join you now than to languish for weeks and months before succumbing to my own grief. I have been without you too long already. I will be without you no longer…"

"Your time is up Wapwaweti!"Mesesdjse bellowed from the dusty street outside. "What do you decide? Will you come out and accept justice like a man, or cower behind your whore-wife like a whipped cur!"

Wapwaweti looked hard at Qeteshkhnemet. His gaze was intense and determined. At last he nodded once, released his wife, and turned toward the door. Qeteshkhnemet’s heart fell nearly all the way down to her bare toes. He drew his long bronze khopesh from his belt slowly.

"You want Wapwaweti?" the huge Nubian cried in reply. In one lightening-flash burst he pulled up the bar with one hand and flung the door open with the other. "Then he is here!"

Mesesdjse had only a fraction of a second to flash a victorious sneering smile. Wapwaweti’s crooked blade hurtled end over end across the crowded square. It struck the wicked councilor squarely between the eyes, splitting his head nearly in two. The councilor’s arrogant face veritably exploded in a shower of blood and gray matter and the gathered crowd screamed in response. Before the assembled guards had a chance to react, Wapwaweti slammed the door closed again and thrust the bar home.

"If anyone else wants Wapwaweti," the sable warrior cried viciously. "Then let them come in and get him!"

Almost as soon as the words left the Nubian’s lips, the guards outside began shouting orders. The sergeant ordered the men with the battering ram forward. Wapwaweti however, did not simply stand idly by. He rushed across the room to the large stone table Qeteshkhnemet used in preparing meals. The table was nearly as long as the Nubian was tall and half again that length across. It was onerously heavy and the muscular black man had to use every ounce of his considerable strength to get it to budge at all. Slowly but surely however, the heavy piece of furniture grated its way across the rough, stone floor. Qeteshkhnemet lent her own desperate strength to the effort as well.

The first blow fell against the ebony wood door, shivering it in it’s frame, but husband and wife did not give up their efforts. The table continued moving agonizingly slowly, yet tantalizingly nearer the embattled door. A second blow fell, easily as strong as the first and a sharp crack of splintering wood rang audibly through the simple stone structure, but still it held. Grunting with all his effort, Wapwaweti grasped the end of the table and lifted, growling animalisticly at the strain. Slowly the end of the massive piece of furniture began to rise from the floor. A third heavy blow fell against the door and it bowed markedly inwards. They were nearly through. With a final mighty heave, the huge Nubian tipped the table on its end then pushed it over. It fell flush against the damaged portal with a great crash. A fourth blow fell against the door, but with the heavy table lying against it, it barely even shivered. Several more blows followed, but they were equally ineffective. Wapwaweti collapsed to the floor breathing heavily. Qeteshkhnemet quickly joined him, urgently throwing her slender arms around her husband’s neck. She buried her face in his heaving chest and cried.

"What do we do now Weti?" she asked fearfully. "The door is the only way in or out!"

"I can do no more. We beg Lord Thoth for vengeance and…" he trailed off.

Wapwaweti met her gaze seriously. He uttered no word. He needed no words, and Qeteshkhnemet did not mistake what his sad, dark eyes told her. She tightened her grip around his thick neck and wept in earnest.

"They will come again, Desert Flower," he whispered gently. "They will come in greater force, with a larger ram, and I fear…" he smiled slightly. "I fear we are all out of tables."

Qeteshkhnemet met his eyes again. Her own were red and puffy from crying, but shone with a deep, passionate love as well. It was a love that she saw clearly mirrored in Wapwaweti’s own chocolate brown orbs. She quieted her tears and pushed away gently. Qeteshkhnemet rose and walked unsteadily to the corner of the room where she had set her groceries. She picked up a jar of beer and two ceramic cups. Then she dug in another large basket on the other side of the room until she pulled out a battered leather pouch. Her hands were shaking. Qeteshkhnemet poured something from the pouch into each glass. Then she filled each to the brim with beer. She regarded her husband with a sad smile.

"Let us have a drink together, my husband," Qeteshkhnemet murmured, voice breaking with sorrow. "Then let us go back to bed. We can sleep through this day of ill-omen as well…"

Wapwaweti regarded his beautiful wife intensely. His jaw was tightly clenched as he struggled with powerful emotions of his own. He took one of the glasses from Qeteshkhnemet and kissed her deeply.

"Yes," he nodded at last, eyes never leaving Qeteshkhnemet’s beautiful, olive face. "Let us go to bed… Let us sleep… Let us sleep together." He drank deeply, finishing the glass in two large gulps. Qeteshkhnemet soon followed. When her own glass was dry, she gently took his massive paw in her delicate fingers. Slowly she led him back to their bed. They lay down, facing each other.

"I love you, Qeteshkhnemet," Wapwaweti murmured sincerely. His eyes were filled with love. His heart felt as though it might burst from his chest, it was so full. There was so much he wanted to say, but he could not seem to find the words, so he kissed her again instead. "I am sorry. We should have left earlier. I should have pressed you and gone right away…"

"I love you, Wapwaweti," replied Qeteshkhnemet with easily as much fervor herself. She squeezed him tightly. "But do not apologize. It is alright. Really it is. The fates have simply chosen to be unkind. It is enough that we are together." Her voice broke. "Together forever, my love."

Then Wapwaweti’s eyes grew wide. Even now, he knew hope.

"Quickly Qete," he asked urgently. "Take off your necklace."

Qeteshkhnemet looked at him curiously but did as he asked. Already she felt groggy. Even that simple motion felt as if she swam through honey. She was fading. The darkness groped at her as if with grasping fingers to pull her down into the inky blackness of oblivion. Wapwaweti took the brilliant blue gem in one big hand. Then he took Qeteshkhnemet’s delicate fingers in his, the jewel clasped between them. He met her darkening eyes passionately.

"Let our last thoughts be of our life together," he asked heatedly. He tried to sound soothing, but already his own words were beginning to slur, his vision to fade. "Let them be of our love. Let them fill this stone to bursting! However, unkind the fates, however ill-omened tomorrow might be, none of it matters as long as I’m with you. One day, some one will find the stone. They will know the love we shared. Then, my desert flower, my dearest one, then we shall live again…"

Qeteshkhnemet nodded weakly and together they squeezed the stone. The only thoughts in their hearts were of each other. Days spent in laughter, nights spent in bliss, even the terrible longing of too much time spent apart, they willed into the glowing stone. As the azure light around them began to fade, Wapwaweti thought that it sounded as if the wind had picked up outside. It howled forlornly across their home’s one narrow window. It moaned and cried as if in mourning, rising ever to greater and greater volume. Perhaps it was mourning them, he thought idly. Then he closed his eyes for the last time.

***

Elizabeth opened her eyes slowly. She had clinched them so tightly closed that it was beginning to give her a headache. Combined with the agony still shooting blindingly through her broken legs, she felt thoroughly disoriented. Then she remembered. The guards!

"Weti?" she queried softly into the darkness as she came to herself. "Where are you Wapwaweti? Are you alright? It’s me. It’s your Qete…"

Silence.

She stopped herself. Her eyes filled with tears. Wapwaweti was not here. He had drunk the poison. It was potent and he had drunken of it deeply. That meant he was… She sobbed bitterly.But wait… She had done so herself as well. Where was she? Was this the afterlife? She racked her brain to remember. Conflicting visions flooded her brain and made no sense. They had been trapped in the house by the guards. No… she had been lost in the sand storm after struggling with the tarp. Wapwaweti had come home today and saved her from Mesesdjse. No… J had comforted her on the bumper of the water truck after dealing with Bradley. She had wanted to plan the perfect evening for her perfect husband, buying everything he liked best at the market… No… Dr. Michaels had shown her the two dead lovers in the Pit… Who was she? The memories of two separate people bumped around in her head making no sense. She was Qeteshkhnemet of Arakh Bohr, wife to Wapwaweti the Nubian… She was Dr. Elizabeth Weishin Heart, adjunct professor at UT Knoxville…

"Wapwaweti!" she screamed into the blackness again. She was scared. She was confused. She hurt. But if she just waited, if she just called loud enough her husband would find her, she knew. He would take care of her. He could make it all fine again and make sense of her confusion. "Help me Weti! Help me! I’ve hurt myself and I’m alone in the dark. I’m scared Weti! I’m scared! Help me!"

Then she heard voices. It took her a moment to focus in on what they were saying. A part of her knew that they were in a language she had never heard before in her whole life, while an equal part knew no other. They were urgent words. Excited words. Hopeful words.

"…hear something this way!" the voice shouted. It was deep, resonant, and strangely familiar. "Keep digging!"

Elizabeth was nearly blinded as light suddenly flooded the room. At the far corner of the long, narrow chamber, a wall of piled up sand suddenly collapsed to reveal a small crowd of weary, concerned faces.

"She’s here!" someone cried.

In mere seconds she was being carefully strapped to a backboard and hauled bodily out of the room. Again her head was spinning. The faces above her seemed a blur. She knew them and then again she did not. One finally stood out to her from among the rest. Cleanly shaven head, skin the color of freshly polished ebony, gentle brown eye shining with concern, it could be no other.

"Wapwaweti," she practically moaned. "I’ve finally found you again. It’s been so long…"

"What’s she sayin’ Dr. M?" he asked worriedly, glancing at an older man to his right. "I didn’t catch any of that. Is she alright? Is she gonna be OK?"

"Can’t say," replied an older man next to him almost as concernedly. "Probably dehydrated, delirious, out of her head… Careful there lads!" he shouted at several swarthy men carrying her. "Don’t dash her brains out against the wall! That’s not a crate of falafel you’re carrying there! Damned useless!" he turned back to Wapwaweti. "We need to get her out to the helicopter, Jeremy. They’ll get her to the hospital in Nairobi, hook her up to an IV, and I’ll bet she’ll be right as rain in a day or two. We shouldn’t dally though… Her legs look awful…"

Then they were taking her away. Wapwaweti stood still as the dark, bearded men carried her away from their home.

"No!" the thought of being separated again drove her nearly to a panic. She struggled against the men who held her disregarding the screaming flashes of pain it sent shooting through her knees. "Please Weti! Don’t leave me! Don’t let them take me away! PLEASE!"

The men did not heed her. It felt as if she were tied down. No matter how she strained she could not get free. Wapwaweti looked after her sadly. Why did he not come to her? Then another though hit her. It was a thought from her other self, the self that understood what was going on, the self that knew all of this madness did indeed make sense.

"J!" Elizabeth screamed. "Please don’t leave me! I don’t wanna be by myself!"

At last the big black man seemed to understand. He rushed to catch up. When he did he took her delicate fingers in his large onyx paw, squeezing them gently.

"It’ll be alright Lizzy," he crooned soothingly. "Your gonna be OK now. Everything is gonna be fine. You’re hurt. They’re just gonna take you to the hospital. I’ll be right here when…"

"Please don’t leave me!" she begged again desperately. "Stay with me. Please don’t go! Don’t…"

"Ok, Ok, hush now," he shushed her gently as he petted her hand. "I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay right here if you need me…"

His words calmed her greatly. Elizabeth closed her eyes and squeezed his hand gratefully.

"Please," she murmured softly. "I hurt."

"I know Lizzy," J soothed. "I guess you fell into the basement in the sandstorm huh? We were real worried when we couldn’t find you, but its all over now. Now you’re safe. We’ll get you to the hospital and they’ll fix you right up. You’ll be just fine, girl. You’ll see. Don’t you worry about a thing…"

She closed her eyes with a sigh, letting his sweet voice wash over her like a warm spring rain. It felt like nothing could be wrong while he was near. Then she remembered; The necklace! As they loaded her onto the helicopter, she recalled the necklace he had given her. The muscular Nubian sat beside her and shut the door behind him. She needed to show him! She needed to reassure herself that she had not lost it! That would be terrible! She felt for it desperately. Luckily, she had not. There it was, still clutched tightly in her other hand. She held it out to him.

Jeremy regarded it curiously for a moment, but ultimately took it from her. When his big black fingers brushed the gem, it flashed brilliantly blue and his eyes opened wide. The piercing azure light seemed to wash out everything in the Universe but for he and Elizabeth. He clutched her hand crushingly tight, staring down at her with an expression on his face somewhere between abject shock, total confusion, and unabashed joy. A single tear trickled down his obsidian cheek and he regarded Elizabeth with new eyes. He did not speak for a long time. When he finally did it was the barest of whispers.

"Qeteshkhnemet?"

The End