She looked deep into his eyes. “Are you sure?”
A burst of gunfire chipped rock from the cavern wall above them.
Was Tareq still up there?
Closing his eyes, Ky thought of Ryan, Komi and Tareq alone in the cavern, listening to the chatter and hammer of automatic weapons.
His people. His friends.
It was supposed to have been a simple archeological dig. A search for a lost tomb, not life and death. And not just for them if the Djinn were loosed.
It was very likely a death sentence for all of them.
Ky braced himself, set himself to move.
“Close it.”
He took a breath.
“Now.”
She nodded.
It might give them the distraction they needed.
“Get ready, Abasi,” he called.
Raissa whispered the incantation.
It resonated through the glen…an eerie echo that could be heard above the gunfire.
That wasn’t as alarming as what came next.
All around vale came the sound of unmistakable sound of stone rasping and grating, the sound monstrous, huge.
Involuntarily almost everyone looked up, some cursed as sand and grit rained down.
It was both incredible and terrible to see as the great split above them closed, something sliding across the opening, blocking the light, enclosing them.
Some of Zimmer’s men ran toward the walls of the vale, others raced toward the entrance to the tunnel to the outside, all seeking escape.
Darkness fell in the middle of the day as a distant thud, echoed in their feet, announced that the tunnel to the outer world was closed, too.
Within the tomb, having taken cover behind the statues of the Gods, Ryan looked up at the stone ceiling as the sound vibrated. From his shelter behind the statue of Isis he looked toward the entrance to the Tomb and saw the light fade rapidly.
“Oh, we are so fucked,” he whispered.
In the glen, all eyes were on the stone that now covered the break in the ceiling.
“Go,” Ky called.
Abasi’s men gave them what cover they could as he and Raissa raced for the entrance to the Tomb then fell in behind them.
Bullets spattered around them.
Men shouted and fell, others took their place but their numbers dwindled badly.
Tareq had taken cover behind a statue of the god Horus and now had his weapon shouldered, peering out from behind the pedestal. His location seemed oddly appropriate.
Ky called, “Ryan? Komi.”
A voice called back, “Here, boss.”
Ryan peered out from behind the statue of Isis.
“How badly are we fucked?”
“Pretty badly. Get down, everyone get down under cover,” Ky shouted. “Abasi, pull your men back.”
The real shit was about to hit the fan.
Ky looked at Raissa as they found cover behind a statue of Sekhmet, turned to face the entrance to the tomb.
Her eyes were haunted, shadowed.
It was likely his were the same.
Reaching out, he cupped her cheek, gave her a quick kiss as Hassan’s, now Abasi’s men, scrambled for cover.
There was a pause. Everyone went still.
Outside they could still hear automatic weapons firing.
Tareq and Abasi both looked back at Ky, puzzled.
With a clatter a grenade clattered through the entrance.
“Down,” Ky shouted.
Even as it exploded, sending stone shards flying against the walls, figures raced in behind it.
Men raced inside, took positions. Another group came in fast and hard behind them, the one in the center looked around, saw the narrow slit for the true entrance to the Tomb, and shouted.
Even as Abasi’s men opened fire, the others raced for the mouth of the tunnel leading down to the noisome thundering chamber below.
Zimmer’s men came in hot, fast and hard behind them.
The first group laid down covering fire for those who followed, who scanned for targets while Zimmer and another contingent strode confidently behind them.
“Kill them,” Zimmer instructed. “All of them.”
He and the rest of the men moved fast and without hesitation into mouth of the tunnel.
With a glance at Ky Raissa loosed Sekhmet’s gift.
“Fuck me,” Ryan whispered, looking at her.
She glowed, and the lambent blue he’d seen before in her eyes was sparked with red. With a cold and wicked smile, she whispered a chant.
With a cry of revulsion, the men in the center of the chamber suddenly found themselves surrounded by snakes.
It was enough of distraction.
“Cover us, Ryan, Komi,” Ky said, as power, energy surged through him. “Tareq, take ‘em out.”
His face grim, the museum director nodded and smiled wolfishly. Shouldering his rifle, he swung around Horus’s pedestal, and fired a couple rounds, ducking back as Raissa and Ky came out from behind Sekhmet.
Raissa dove and rolled, going low, her swords in her hands.
Gunfire trailed her as she rolled on her shoulders, her swords extended. She was spinning as she came to her feet, putting arms and shoulders into it. Steel sliced through armor like butter. The men fell.
Others aimed at Ky as he stepped out, weapon shouldered, firing steadily, hammering one of the enemy backward with each shot…until one of his bullets got past the armor and the man fell. Then he turned to the next as Tareq guarded his back.
Shaking his head, picking his shots, Ryan thought he’d never seen anything so fucking incredible in his life.
It was also strangely beautiful, exciting and terrifying all at once.
Watching Raissa as she rose to her feet, spun like a ballerina, all that hair swirling around her, her expression still and implacable, was oddly erotic and horrifying.
Tareq, the museum director, was like a machine, picking off the enemy one after another.
Not a bad idea. Komi was doing the same.
Steadying his weapon, Ryan mirrored him as Raissa and Ky kept the attackers busy.
In moments the chamber was clear.
Outside, in the sunlight, Zimmer’s men stared in shock and horror as sand began to spill over the edge of the Gilf Kebir and the huge rock that had been poised above the crack in the cavern ceiling slid over the crack in the dome of the ceiling. An enormous burst of dust rushed from the entryway as it, too, closed, stone raining down from inside There was a harsh grating sound of stone on stone and a huge slab, poised for centuries, slid forward, down over the crack in the rock, sealing it shut.
The glade was empty of all save the bodies of the dead. The pedestals where the lions had stood were chipped and ravaged, vines hung as the birds scattered to the four winds in terror. The walls of the vale rang with their frightened cries.
Within the tomb gunfire rang.
Only the stele remained untouched.
Chapter Thirty Four
The main chamber had sustained considerable damage. The statues of the Gods were chipped and battered, priceless gold and jewels were scattered underfoot. Bullets pockmarked the plaster walls, erased ancient, delicate hieroglyphics. Pristine linens were torn. Amphorae had been shattered, their invaluable and irreplaceable contents spilled to soak into the floor. The air was ripe with the scent. Otherwise it was empty of anyone except their own people… Tareq, Ryan, and Komi and some of Hassan’s people.
Below they heard the chatter of automatic weapons.
Ky winced, closed his eyes. He looked at Raissa, who looked as sick at heart.
Hassan’s men, the reserves in case the Djinn were released. Now, trapped and vastly outnumbered, they fought a hopeless battle, alone, to keep the Tomb from being opened.
And to survive.
“He can’t be allowed to open the Tomb,” Raissa said, her face pale and set.
Ky took a breath. “No, he can’t.”
He looked at the others, at Tareq, who gave him a brief smile, and Abasi, who nodded and looked at his men.
They knew their odds of survival. No one flinched or looked away.
“Let’s go.”
Abasi gestured two of his men in front for covering fire as Ky, Raissa, Tareq, Ryan and Komi closed in behind them. Clearly he hadn’t forgotten the men below. Both men nodded and preceded them warily but quickly, down into the darker depths below.
For Abasi’s men this was their first trip down into the bowels of the earth, down into the true Tomb of the Djinn.
If anything, the lurid light only seemed that much more intense, it beat more rapidly, the dull light of the flickering torches only added to the dissonance. The dull hammering of flesh on iron, was now frantic, uneven, shattering booms that echoed through their bones, their teeth. Eerie shadows moved in or on the walls, seen only from the corners of their eyes, out of sync with the torchlight. A dank chill sank into their flesh.
The walls seemed wetter, the moisture thicker, than it had. A rich coppery scent like blood, filled the air but it was noisome, corrupted.
Any thought their previous experience would have eased this one vanished.
They reached the level of Kamenwati’s sarcophagus.
It was gone.
Stunned, Raissa shook her head.
Even she at the height of her power couldn’t have lifted that huge piece of dark marble easily or tossed it so carelessly.
The body inside it was gone, too.
She shivered.
Kamenwati had his body back but not his heart. That still resided within the Tomb with the Djinn. And the Horn.
She wasn’t certain what it meant, if anything.
There was no choice but to keep going, down into that pulsing febrile carmine light.
An incredible burst of pain shot through her, staggering in its intensity.
Raissa bit back a cry, bent over against the sharpness of it.
Ky wrapped an arm around her.
Looking up into his dark eyes she shook her head, forced herself to straighten and swallowed hard.
The scouts flattened themselves to either side of the tunnel, looking down into the lower chamber with frowns of disbelief.
Ky and Raissa quickly joined one of them to look below.
Guns were still firing, one side trying to hold the other off with only the bodies of their comrades for cover.
The Djinn, sensing the battle going on, hammered relentlessly and mindlessly at the iron of the doors, dozens of them beating in great thundering cacophonic booms.
Kamenwati’s sarcophagus, the base cracked in half, lay in pieces on the floor, the lid shattered and the pieces scattered across the floor. Some of the men, Zimmer’s, crouched behind it. It was the only cover they had.
A dozen dead littered the floor… it was carnage. Blood was spattered everywhere, shockingly red and bright against the dark, dripping walls.
Kamenwati stood in the lee of a crevice, watching, arms folded as the groups fought each other.
Tall and dark, he was powerfully muscled, a commanding figure. His thick hair cascaded over his broad shoulders.
To one side Zimmer himself was crouched, his hands over his head, no longer the proud Aryan warrior, the possessor of Kamenwati’s spirit, but only another sacrifice to the Djinn. Kamenwati had discarded him like an old shirt, now that he had his own body back. The archeologist would have been much aggrieved, if he’d had time for it.
Kamenwati looked over the fighters impassively. It was nothing to him if they killed each other, they would only provide more sustenance in one way or another to those waited within the Tomb
He shook his head.
These called his folk barbarian and pagan…
It was good to know, however, that such rivalries and hate still existed for him to absorb and use. Without it one such as he could not succeed. Power flooded into him as they fought each other. Kamenwati had no desire to rule this world, it would take far too much effort. After all there was no need. To gain all he needed, all he wanted, all he had to do was stir the great pot, then sit back and wait. Chaos would reign and they would come to him.
Below them, one of the men reached for the Heart of the Gods, had actually closed his hand around the great ruby with its bands of gold and silver.
“No, you fool,” he shouted. “Don’t touch that, you’ll release the Guardian. Stop him!”
She was already partly free but her spirit was still bound to the Tomb.
The few of Zimmer’s men who survived tried to obey but the other men cut down those that tried.
In triumph, the man wrenched the Heart free of its bonds and confines, breaking the Seal, and held it up as proof of his success.
The shock of seeing the man with the Heart in his hands went through Raissa like a knife.
Fear whispered coldly through her.
Turning her head, she looked at first at Ryan, then Komi, before she looked into Tareq’s dark eyes.
“Run…Go now, don’t leave Isis’s shadow.”
A deep thundering boom, a sound like a great gong being struck, rang through the chamber.
Looking down into the room below, Tareq heard a sudden deep rumbling.
It seemed to come from everywhere and from nowhere. It echoed in his bones as all else had.
His eyes met Raissa’s, Ky’s…and saw the look in them. In hers.
Tareq understood.
The last seal had been broken…and now the inner doors of the Tomb were closed as well. Exit to the glen was impossible. There was no escape.
Only one last safe place remained.
The Djinn would soon be free.
“Go, I need you to go,” Raissa cried. “Go to Isis…now!”
She looked from Tareq to Ryan to Komi.
They looked into her eyes and nodded.
Then they were gone, all three racing toward the dubious safety of the upper chamber as the rumbling around them grew stronger.
A deep bass note resounded through the Tomb. It vibrated in the bones and with it came the sound of sand flowing, shifting, filtering. That sound was incredibly loud. Dust filled the chamber, turned the crimson light bloody, virulent. From within the Tomb the shrieks and wails increased, the sound like fingernails on chalkboards, atavistic and terrible, hungry, avid…
Down in the dim light of the chamber, the light of the Heart shuddered as the man held it up like a talisman in triumph, two of his men hauling on the doors…