She smiled and nodded.
Her eyes went to each in warmth and satisfaction.
“You chose well, Ky,” she said, nodding.
The air filled with shimmering rainbow light, a light that grew steadily brighter.
In the midst of that brilliance Ky thought he heard another voice, this one harsher but no less benevolent.
A gentle growl carried on the wind.
Sekhmet, conveying her last Gift to them, as well.
The Djinn, too, the Bright Ones, did reverence, obeisance, one of their own taking their precious gift before it as they set their own to Guard.
Below them the great iron doors swung closed with a clang.
Sunlight and moonlight gathered, taking the Gods with it in a rush of wind that raced below.
The world came back slowly, first in glimmers of touch, in the feel of the floor beneath their feet, a brush of air across their skin.
Vision returned.
The stone faces of the Gods looked down at them…light sparkled from every surface.
Shakily everyone took a seat on the pedestal, everyone except Abasi, who wandered a little unsteadily toward the garden.
“Are they gone?” Tareq asked, his voice sounding oddly strange even to his own ears.
Nodding slowly, Ky said, “I think so…”
“All gone?”
Raissa shook her head. “The Gods? Yes. Their power here has waned, although some have returned to their service. The Djinn? Let me show you.”
She stood up, brushed off her clothes and lifted an eyebrow in question.
With a groan, grumbling, Ryan got to his feet. “All right, but let me know when this is really over, because when it is I’m falling down. Then I’m going to stay there for a week.”
Ky glanced at Raissa with a smile. Some things didn’t change.
Eyes twinkling, she smiled back.
Somehow he wasn’t surprised when she led them down into the lower chamber. This time the journey wasn’t fraught with dread and the air smelled sweet, clean. The walls didn’t glimmer, and sound didn’t echo.
And stopped dead when he reached the bottom.
As did the others.
The great iron doors were closed, once again.
At each side stood towering, massive figures that seemed poured from the glittering golden sandstone above. They were amorphous, vaguely man-shaped, each with the head of a jackal. Djinn, but bright ones, who served Anubis.
In the center of the floor stood pedestals. On each was the figure of a lion, their names inscribed on each pillar. Emu and Kiwu.
She grieved for her roly-poly lion, always begging for a belly rub. They had given her back, too. And Kiwu.
Tears glimmered in her eyes.
Raissa smiled, laying a hand over her heart in thanks.
In wonder, Tareq stepped onto the black marble floor, his eyes going down to it, to the odd, vaguely man-like patterns within it.
He approached the doors almost reverently, looked at the massive iron of them, at the unbroken bands of gold and silver that crossed it.
And the seal, the great ruby once again in its niche.
The Heart of the Gods.
“It’s still here,” he said, looking at them in bewilderment, not daring to touch it, before turning his gaze back to study it. His fingers drifted just above it. “There’s barely a chip out of it.”
He looked up at the massive doors then back at Raissa.
“The Djinn are created of the Gods, or God, however you want to put it,” she said, softly. “They were given free will even as we were and that remains. The Gods don’t unmake what they have created and aren’t you glad of that? Some of them chose a darker path and they must pay for it. Those that did battle with their brothers and ‘died’ have been sent to be judged as are we all. The others made their choices and were rewarded or punished accordingly.”
She nodded toward the doors then toward the figures that guarded it.
“As were those that fought them. The good Djinn remain.”
Curiously, Ky looked at her and asked, “The Horn. Why Tareq?”
“Ah,” she said with a smile and looked at Tareq fondly. “First, because it had to be wielded by a true Egyptian. Both Irisi and Khai were foreigners. Kamenwati was a xenophobe, he hated us for that, hated that we had risen so high. So he made it a condition of the use of the Horn. And while he’s not the only true Egyptian here, unlike our friend Abasi…” She gave the man a wry smile. “He hasn’t become cynical. Tareq wanted to believe they were real, the Djinn, because if the bad were real…then the bright ones would be, too… Am I correct?”
She looked toward Tareq with a brilliant smile.
Tareq bowed his head to her, smiling in return. “You are, indeed. Thank you, then, for that. Now I more than simply believe…”
“There are more things on heaven and earth, Horatio,” Ky quoted, “than exist in your philosophy…”
Contentedly, Tareq said, “Exactly so…the Bard understood quite well.”
Ky’s own beliefs had expanded considerably also.
“So, how then do we get out?” Abasi said, returning to join them. “We are still sealed in…”
There would always be pragmatists as well and they were needed, too.
Looking at Raissa, Tareq said, “And the Guardian is the Lock and the Key…”
She grinned.
“That’s the easy part,” Raissa said. “Let’s go back up to the main chamber.”
Stretched out on the stone slab, Ryan pulled his hat down over his eyes and said, with a grin, “Let me know when the tour’s over.”
“It’s over now,” she said and nudged him. “Move, that’s my spot.”
“Hey!” he protested. “I was just getting comfortable.”
She rolled her eyes. “Do you want out of here or not? And how soon?”
“Oh, all right,” he grumbled, but got up.
Raissa stretched out on the stone slab, fit herself into the hollow there.
“Oh, she just wanted it for herself,” Ryan complained, crossing his arms and looking down at her.
She gave him a look, shifted a little more and crossed her arms on her chest in the typical pose of the Egyptian dead.
It was eerie to look her in that position and more than a little unsettling. It gave Ky a very bad moment. It was far too easy to see it as true. Several times in the past few days, hell, hours, they’d come far too close to the reality of it. The moment when the doors had begun to close, and he couldn’t reach her… When the Heart had shattered…and for a single second he’d thought she’d gone with it…
“Raissa,” he said, his breath catching.
Beneath her the altar shifted…
There was a great deal of grinding, the sound of stone on stone…a great rumbling and then things began to move.
Relief washed through him when she opened her eyes, winked at him.
“Sorry, love,” she said, seeing the discomfort in his eyes and took his offered hand. “It was set to my weight. The good thing about being undead, your weight doesn’t fluctuate much.”
Ky pulled her into his arms and held her briefly and tightly, his cheek against her hair, her body warm against his.
Then, tired or not, he tossed her over his shoulder to her squeak of surprise.
“Ky,” she protested.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said to the others, carrying her down the tunnel and out into the spreading sunshine as the slab above slid slowly away with a growl and grinding of stone. It slipped out over the precipice, teetered for a moment, and then fell, to shatter at the base of the Gilf Kebbir, leaving nothing behind but the blue sky above.
Dust and grit fell, nearly blindingly, dancing on the breeze, sparkling in the sunlight like fairy dust.
Somewhere nearby they heard the coughing roar of a lion.
For a moment Ky simply stood there with his face raised to feel the warmth of the sun on his face until Raissa wiggled.
“Boss,” Ryan’s voice said, softly.
Ky opened his eyes and stared.
The stele that had stood outside the entrance was shattered…the hollow interior empty.
Liquid, sparkling in the sunlight, slowly seeped into the earth.
Once he’d dreamed of setting the lovely priestess free…and now she was.
Carefully Ky let Raissa slide off his shoulder, lowered her gently to her feet, looking down into her lovely face, into her beautiful blue eyes and searched inside himself for Khai.
“They are us now,” Raissa said, softly, “a part of us as we are a part of them, save that now they are together again and at peace.”
“And the rest?” he asked, curiously.
There were parts of the… rest…he thought he might miss.
Raissa looked up into his dark eyes, seeing the hints of gold in them when the light hit his eyes just right and she smiled.
Sliding her arms up around his neck she breathed in the sweet scent of him as she came up on her toes to nuzzle his throat lightly, tasted his skin with a quick flick of her tongue, a purr starting in the back of her throat.
Ky shivered a little. Her lips brushed his ear.
“Get a room,” Ryan said, in feigned disgust.
“Shut up Ryan,” they said, in virtual unison, grinning as they glanced at him.
He grinned impudently back and flopped to the ground, pulling his hat over his eyes.
“Whether the tour’s over or not, I am,” he said.
Raissa grinned at him, turned back to Ky.
“The Gods don’t take their gifts back,” she said, softly, “and I get the impression I might be needed again.”
“Why?” he asked, frowning a little.
She laid a hand against his face, traced the line of his jaw.
“There’s always something. I’m still here,” she said, softly, with a sigh, her eyes on his. “I could still have left. The choice was given me but I had already made it.”
The truth of that punched into his heart.
It was the question he never dared ask himself―what would happen at the end, when it was all over? When the Guardian had done her duty and her task was done? What would happen then? Would she be called to the afterlife?
All the breath rushed out of him.
She’d made her choice. Him. She’d chosen to stay.
He looked down into her blue eyes, kissed her gently.
“There is one change, though,” she said, softly and took his hand, pressed it against her throat.
Her skin was warm, as soft as he remembered. Beneath his hand, there was movement. A very steady throbbing of a pulse, her pulse. The feel of her heart beating strong and steady against his palm.
Something inside of him let go. Whole again. She was a real girl now. He laughed at the thought―stolen from Pinocchio―wrapped his arms around her hips and lifted her up into his arms. Bracing her hands on his shoulders, she smiled down at him.
He frowned. “But…I thought…the Heart of the Gods…”
She shrugged a little.
“Oh, it’s still there…and it’s mine…just a detail, a little one.”
“Are you sure nothing else has changed?”
Raissa wriggled a little, wrapped her legs around his waist and leaned forward to whisper in his ear.
“I’m very, very hungry and I want to eat you alive, make love to you until you’re half mad and suck on you until your toes curl…”
A burst of heat shot through him as his body tightened.
“Get some rest, folks,” Ky said, laughing, “an hour or two, or three… whenever… whatever…”
“Boss,” Ryan said in acknowledgement.
The hat never moved.
“We’ll be back in a little bit,” Ky said, smiling.
Nodding, Ryan said, and waved at them. “Sure you will.”
“We’ll just set up camp,” Komi said, amused.
Tareq just shook his head and chuckled.
With a wave to them, Ky hefted Raissa a little more so she could wrap her legs around his waist more tightly, her mouth brushing hotly over his throat as he carried her out beyond the palm trees.
“God, Raissa,” he said, “don’t do that now or I’ll drop you.”
With a little growl of pleasure, she scraped her teeth over his throat teasingly, breathing in the sweet scent of him and he felt her hips rub against him as she wiggled in his grasp.
“Two can play at that,” he said.
Gathering her hair in his hand he set her down, he held her mouth just away from his throat and stripped the remains of her dress away up over her head. It had taken a beating in the last few hours. He went hot and hard in an instant at the sight of her.
“Raissa,” he breathed…
He’d never get used to that.
She was beautiful, from her high full breasts to her slender waist and her lovely legs. The tight bottom he remembered so fondly. His mouth practically watered to taste those breasts. Then he paused, his fingers brushing lightly just above her breast where her heart would have been. There was something new there, a small stylized golden tattoo of a lion.
Raissa laid her hand over his.
“Alu,” she said, softly. “So he’s always with me.”
It probably wasn’t time to point out that he had a matching tattoo.
Ky brushed his mouth the figure, in thanks. He felt her jolt and looked up into her face to see her eyelids flutter with pleasure. Those blue eyes heated, turned hungry as her breath caught. She licked her lips slowly, the tip of her tongue skimming her lengthening fangs.
He smiled.
It was so sexy to look at her like this, when she was so hungry for him in so many ways, when her teeth were long enough to brush her bottom lip. With all they’d been through, she had to be hungry. Very hungry. His body grew hard and tight.
It seemed that she was. She bit that full lower lip lightly.
He kissed her, ran his tongue over those sharp, sharp teeth and she sighed, purred in the back of her throat and kissed him back. Heat burned through him. Need.
And a hunger of his own.
With a smile, he brushed his lips lightly over the steady beat in her throat, felt her quiver. His smile broadened.
Not yet. He sighed. Soon though. His mouth watered and heat rushed through him like a tide as he traced a path over her breast with his tongue, tasted her.
Raissa was already at work on the buttons to his tattered shirt, pushed it back to reveal the tight muscles of his chest. She ran her hands over them, down, her thumbs brushing over his tight abs.
His free hand skimmed over her body. His other hand he kept in her hair, teasing her, teasing them both, just letting her mouth come close enough to his own throat to torment them both, her teeth scraping over his skin. It was driving her just about mad.