Chapter Thirty: Two Sides of the Same Coin

 

 

***

 

 

The palace was eerily deserted, and Pierre’s pulse quickened as he sprinted down the empty marbled hallways.  There was something sinister about this place...almost as though it were a house of the dead, a very portal to the underworld.

 

Turning a corner he spotted Jonathan come running out from two huge golden doors.

 

“Jon!”

 

Jonathan turned quickly as Pierre jogged up to him, catching his breath.  “I am here to help you find your sister and the book.”

 

Jonathan shook his head, breathing heavily, his sweaty hand wrapped tightly around the key.  “I don’t need your help.  Not in this.  Ardeth needs you.”

 

“It was he who told me to help you!” Pierre wiped sweat from his forehead.

 

Jonathan shook his head, standing once again and getting ready to continue his search.  There was no time to lose.  “No.  Go and help Ardeth.  He will need help fighting the mummies.  I’ll find Evy.”

 

“Are you sure?”  Pierre wanted to be back in the fray, killing mummies and battling the undead.  But he owed his loyalty to Jonathan, and he would help him if he needed it.

 

Jonathan took a deep breath.  He knew that he had to do this on his own.  There are some things a man must do alone.  “I will do it.”

 

Pierre gave him a short nod of respect.  Then he turned and once again began running, back to help fight the mummy guards with Ardeth and Adil.

 

As he ran, he felt nervous tension tingling up and down his arms and through his stomach.  Time was running out.  Rick couldn’t distract Imhotep forever.  Pierre ran, his chest heaving for air, knowing that they were all fighting, all struggling against an unknown and unforseen clock.

 

 

***

 

 

Evy ducked as Anck-su-namun’s thrust sliced the empty air where, only a second ago, her head had been.  They had been battling for several minutes, trading thrusts and blows with equal ferocity.  They were indeed perfectly matched in skill, and they fought, back and forth across Imhotep’s chambers.

 

Evy’s mind flitted over the last two fights she had had with Anck-su-namun.  One, three millennia ago, in the court of her father.  The second, just two years ago, inside the pyramid of Ahm Shere.  Evy gritted her teeth.  Between them, the score was tied.

 

Evy drew strength from the fact that Anck-su-namun had never beaten her when it really mattered.

 

Breathing heavily Evy regrouped, backing away and twirling the weapons in her hands.  She eyed Anck-su-namun, the queen’s face maddeningly expressionless.

 

Suddenly, in a burst of energy and anger, Evy attacked.  Her first thrust, directed towards the queen’s throat, was deflected, but Evy kept coming, pushing Anck-su-namun back across the floor.  They traded blow for blow, the blades clanging as they met again and again.  Sweat poured off of their faces and bodies as they battled.

 

In the background, on the mahogany desk, the gold book of the living lay, motionless and mute.  It gleamed in the light, silent as it, too, watched the fight.

 

Suddenly the queen swiped at Evy’s face.  Startled, Evy jerked back, only just parrying the blow.  Off balance, she stumbled back, away from Anck-su-namun’s razor sharp weapons.

 

With another quick jab Evy just deflected, Anck-su-namun swung both her blades towards Evy with all her might.  Off-balance, there was nothing for Evy to do as the queen’s blades slammed into her own, ripping one of her weapons out of her clammy hand.  It clanged on the marble floor as it fell.

 

 

***

 

 

Imhotep’s sword clanged into Rick’s.  The two blades sliced along each other.

 

Neither of them had the advantage yet.  The fight had been dead even.  But Rick knew that he was tiring.  Imhotep with his immortal strength had barely broken a sweat.  Rick had been able to keep up–for now.  But he knew he couldn’t last forever.

 

Rick pulled back and thrust again toward’s Imhotep’s stomach.  The blow was deflected, returned, and their blades once again danced through the air.  Imhotep advanced slowly, pushing Rick back across the floor to the opposite end of the throne room.

 

Rick gritted his teeth, parrying another thrust.  Imhotep’s blows were coming hard and fast, and Rick felt his sweaty hands slipping on the hilt of his sword.

 

As Imhotep’s sword banged fiercely into his own, Rick suddenly lost his grip.  He panicked, his clammy fingers grasping at the hilt as the blade began to slide out of his hand.  Seeing Rick’s panic Imhotep swung his sword, connecting brutally.

 

The loose sword in Rick’s hands reverberated, shaking in his slippery grasp.  With another deft blow Rick felt his sword being ripped out of his hands.  Imhotep grinned, looking at his disarmed opponent.  The golden sword flew across the room and fell, clattering across the marble floor.

 

 

***

 

 

Gasping, Evy backed away, looking around frantically for another weapon to use.  She was practically defenseless with only was sai against Anck-su-namun’s two.  Dropping her second weapon Evy turned, her eyes searching frantically for a spear, a dagger–anything she remembered how to use.

 

Her eyes alit on the beautiful golden sword mounted above the mantel.  Imhotep’s sword.  How bloody ironic.

 

Dodging Anck-su-namun’s hateful thrust, Evy ran for the blade on the wall.  Seeing Evy’s intention Anck-su-namun growled with anger.  As Evy neared the mantel, she stood, reaching, her fingers nearly grasping the gleaming sword.

 

But something whizzed by her head.  Evy looked up in panic as the sai lodged itself in the wall beside her head.  It had just missed her.  Another quarter of an inch and it would be imbedded in her head. 

 

Evy reached once again for the curved sword.

 

With a battle cry Anck-su-namun threw her second weapon, the golden blade twirling through the air, end over end, as it sailed towards its mark.  Her hand grasping the hilt, Evy ripped the blade off the wall.  In one beautiful, fluid movement, Evy swung the sword forward to defend her head.

 

Anck-su-namun’s golden sai struck Imhotep’s sword with a resounding crash.  The weapon trembled in Evy’s hand and she struggled to maintain control of it as the queen’s deadly sai clattered harmlessly on the floor.

 

Shivering, Evy met her eyes.  She tightened her grip on the blade.  This battle was not over.

 

 

***

 

Rick had never been much of a sword man, anyway.

 

He countered quickly, before Imhotep could react, by kicking the priest squarely in the stomach.  Grunting Imhotep stumbled backwards, the sword in his hand hanging loosely from surprise at the attack.

 

Following on his success Rick advanced, slugging Imhotep in the face, his knuckles making hard contact with the priest’s jaw.  The sword slipped from Imhotep’s grasp and clattered on the hard floor.

 

Imhotep snarled and backtracked, holding one of his hands to his jaw.  He wasn’t ready for Rick’s attack, a style of fighting Rick had perfected long ago in the streets of Cairo.  Pressing his advantage, Rick popped Imhotep again in the jaw, knocking his face back.

 

Rick circled him like a boxer, growling, his bloody fists tight and ready.  Imhotep eyed him warily.  Then, slowly, the priest too lowered into the stance of a boxer.  Raising his fists to protect his face, on the balls of his feet, Imhotep advanced towards Rick.

 

The fight had changed.  But it wasn’t over.  Not by a long shot.

 

 

***

 

 

Ardeth allowed himself a grim smile of satisfaction as his sword sliced through one of the soldier mummy’s arms.  With a sickening thwak, the blade met the creature’s decayed bone.  It sliced cleanly through the rotting flesh and cartilage, separating the arm from the remainder of its decomposed body.

 

The beast snarled hideously at the loss of its limb, watching as it’s severed arm hit and bounced on the marbled floor.  With a growl in defense of its injured brother, another soldier mummy jumped at Ardeth, just missing his shoulder and forcing Ardeth to backtrack a few steps across the massive throne room.

 

Ardeth looked over at Adil, blinking rapidly and trying to get the sweat out of his eyes.  Although they had been able to keep the mummies at bay, they were by no means winning this fight.  The mummies were cornering them and wearing them down.  Ardeth and Adil had each killed one, and Ardeth had just seriously injured another.  But with two beasts to fight each, there was no chance to rest or regroup.

 

They were going to need some help.  Soon.

 

 

***

 

Anck-su-namun made for the opposite wall, where Imhotep’s collection of swords were stacked.  Quickly selecting one she ripped it from its scabbard.  Turning, brandishing her new weapon, the queen strode forward.  The sword gleamed in the dull light.  Evy stood across the room, Imhotep’s sword in her hand.  The two women silently regarded each other.

 

Finally, calm, composed, utterly poised, Anck-su-namun began walking towards Evy.  She twirled the sword in her hand as though it was a part of her body.  She looked completely at ease.  Evy swallowed, hard.  She hadn’t used a sword in years.

 

With a cry Anck-su-namun attacked, her sword hitting Evy’s with barely contained ferocity.  The blades swung through the air, clanging violently together as the two women battled.  Anck-su-namun was on the offensive, pushing Evy back across the chamber.  Evy struggled, doing her best to defend herself while the queen attacked.

 

But Anck-su-namun was clearly the better fighter.  She kept pushing Evy back, mechanically attacking as Evy struggled to parry each thrust.  Evy gasped, Imhotep’s sword heavy in her inexperienced arms.  The muscles in her arms ached as she desperately fended off Anck-su-namun’s blows.

 

Evy swung her blade upwards to deflect another violent thrust.  The strength of the blow forced Evy to stumble back.  Evy suddenly felt her back bang up against the wall.  She hit the cold marble and felt her heart plummet.  How had she let herself be cornered in this way?

 

She looked up into Anck-su-namun’s cold eyes.  And suddenly, for the first time, Evy was drenched in a sudden gut wrenching fear.

 

She had never truly believed that they could lose this battle.  But here she was, trapped by Anck-su-namun, with the gold book of the living just out of arms reach.  Evy looked into the queen’s face, trying to glean some humanity from the cold, chillingly beautiful exterior.

 

“You seem to have run out of options,” she articulated slowly, drawing out her victory.

 

The death of the world flashed before Evy’s eyes.

 

Evy looked around in a panic as Anck-su-namun came for her, quick and silent as a panther.  The next thing she felt was the cold steel of a blade pressed against her throat.

 

 

***

 

 

Narrowing his eyes into slits, Imhotep counter-attacked.  His fist made slight contact with the side of Rick’s cheek as the American managed to mostly dodge the blow.

 

The two men continued to circle each other.  Rick popped Imhotep in the face, one, two times, his fist making satisfying contact with the priest’s jaw.  Rick swung to hit him again, but Imhotep was quicker.  The priest slammed his fist into the undefended side of Rick’s face.

 

Rick stumbled back, his hands instinctively going for his throbbing jaw.  Imhotep growled and grabbed Rick, sending a hard knee into his stomach.  Rick doubled over, gasping for breath.

 

Imhotep shoved him to the floor.  Rick lay on his side, gasping.  But he wasn’t going to give up this easily.  Slowly Rick pulled himself back up.  He stood, blood running from the corner of his mouth.

 

Imhotep smiled.

 

Rick ducked from the first blow, quick on his feet as Imhotep kept coming.  But the priest swung again, knocking into Rick’s face.  Rick stumbled back only to be kicked in the chest.  He slammed up against a column, bleeding and exhausted, as Imhotep came for him.

 

Rick closed his eyes and groaned as the priest’s cruel face neared his own.  He had only managed to distract Imhotep for so long.

 

Imhotep grasped Rick by the shoulders, picked him up, and threw him across the throne room.  Rick sailed through the air.  He landed with a thud, moaning at the pain that shot cruelly up his leg.  He winced, not wanting to see how bad the damage was.

 

He was exhausted.  He had almost no energy left, not even enough to protest as Imhotep strode over to where he was lying.  He closed his eyes briefly in pain as Imhotep’s harsh question echoed in his mind.

 

“Are you ready to die, Med Jai?”

 

 

***

 

 

Where was Evy?  Jonathan thought anxiously, running down the hallways.  This palace was endless.  Where was she?  And where was Anck-su-namun?  Suddenly Jonathan remembered their fight in the pyramid at Ahm Shere.  “Oh my God,” he whispered, all of the pieces suddenly fitting together.  Everyone was accounted for except Evy and Anck-su-namun.  They must be together. 

 

Fighting.  Over the book of Amun-Ra.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Jonathan saw something move.  He spun around, grabbing the handgun from his holster.  Grasping the gun in his tense fingers, he looked carefully at the huge golden doorway.

 

The ornate door stood half open.  Bright light from the hallway spilled into the front of the darkened room, but what was beyond was concealed in shadows.  Jonathan squinted into the dim interior of the room beyond.  He could vaguely make out some stacked and discarded furniture.  The room appeared to be abandoned and deserted.

 

Jonathan frowned, lowering his gun.  He could have sword he saw someone, or something.  Had he imagined it?

 

And then suddenly he saw a small form ducking down behind a chair.  “Oh no you don’t,” Jonathan muttered, striding into the room.  It must be one of Imhotep’s servants, hiding.  Well, if Jonathan had been an uninvolved slave here he would be hiding too.

 

His eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room as Jonathan searched out what he assumed was a young woman.  The room was stacked and filled with discarded chairs and tables and Jonathan made his way around them, looking for any sign of movement.  The little bugger was hiding.  Jonathan grunted in frustration.  He had no time for this.  He needed to know where Imhotep’s chambers were, now.

 

Jonathan overturned a chair, starting to lose his patience.  Damnnit.  He was losing valuable time.  “I need your help!” he yelled into the dim, empty interior.  “Where are Imhotep’s rooms?”  He stopped, his voice echoing.

 

Jonathan listened in the quiet room.  Slowly he heard the sound of someone standing up, and of a table scratching against the marble floor.

 

“Uncle Jon?”

 

 

***

 

 

Grasping his injured leg, Rick managed to pull himself into a sitting position.  He gasped from the pain, sweat pouring down his forehead and into his eyes.  Wiping his face with the fabric of his sleeve, Rick looked up into Imhotep’s eyes.  Rick’s searing blue ones reflected a laughing bitterness.

 

“So you would kill me?” he asked ironically, repeating the same question Imhotep had asked him, long ago, in the pyramid of Ahm Shere.  He felt his entire body trembling with exhaustion.

 

Imhotep stood above his nemesis, watching him dispassionately.  “So you beg for your life, slave?”

 

Rick grunted, rubbing his leg, desperately trying to buy some time.  He quickly looked over at where Ardeth and Adil were fighting, but he couldn’t tell who was winning or losing.  His eyes were blurred by his own sweat and salty tears of frustration.

“I will never beg,” Rick growled, hauling himself to his feet.  His entire body screamed out in pain, but he forced himself to remain standing.  He had never remembered being this drained after a fight.  He was getting older, he realized with a start.  He had been in this game for too long.

 

“So you are proud, too,” Imhotep remarked casually, watching Rick struggle to his feet.  The priest had barely broken a sweat.

 

“Proud of my heritage, as you are,” Rick replied, righting himself.  And for a moment, Rick thought he saw a glimmer of the old Imhotep, the man he had known and respected and had thoroughly pitied.  A flicker of–what was it?–something Rick could not name traversed his eyes, something that made Imhotep look ragged, and tired, and frustrated, and utterly human.

 

But then it was gone.  The moment passed as quickly as it had come, and Rick wondered if it had ever been there at all, or if it was a figment of his exhausted mind.

 

The two men considered each other, who were as far apart now as they had once been close.  Imhotep’s cold eyes assessed Rick once again.  His eyes gleamed with malice as he stepped forward.  “It is time for you to know pain as I have known it, Med Jai.”

 

Rick’s blue eyes locked with Imhotep’s.  He searched for any sign of humanity.  But all that looked back at him were eyes that were cold, cruel, and empty.  Rick swallowed hard.  He tried to move, staggering back on aching legs as Imhotep strode forward, and came for him.

 

 

***

 

 

Anck-su-namun held Evy down, the weapon at her throat.  Evy could feel the cold chill of the blade against her skin as the queen smiled at her victory.  “I win, Nefertiri, just as I won before your father’s court three millennia ago.”

 

Evy gritted her teeth.  This could not be the end.  It couldn’t be.  All she had fought through, all she had survived, to die like this?  “So you can kill me just like you killed my father?” Evy glared at her.  “How long have you dreamt of this moment?”

 

Her words were like a slap in the face.  The cold, steel mask of the queen’s face broke.  Pain flashed across her features.  “Is that what you think?” she managed to get out, relaxing the blade’s pressure on Evy’s throat.

 

Evy swallowed defiantly.  “I think you are finally able to complete what you started three thousand years ago.”

 

 “No,” she whispered, her face softening in pain as she backed away from Evy, lowering her sword.

 

Evy looked at her in shock.  After such a fierce battle she couldn’t believe that Anck-su-namun was suddenly letting her go.

 

“I never wanted to, to kill you,” Anck-su-namun whispered.  “I would never have hurt you three thousand years ago.”  She looked down at the sword in her hand.  After a long moment she spoke again.  “And I can’t kill you now.”

 

“I don’t understand.”  Evy’s hands went to her throat warily, rubbing the tender skin.  She slumped against the wall, collecting herself.  And Anck-su-namun stood before her, reaching out to the last person on the entire earth who might understand her.

 

“We didn’t kill your father for hate, Nefertiri.”  Anck-su-namun swallowed, struggling to maintain control.  “I hated him but I would have lived with it, accepted it.  I could have borne it when I didn’t know any better, when I thought that all life offered was suffering and regret.”

 

“Then why?” Evy voiced her question softly, without anger.  She stood, taking her weight off the wall.  Indeed, the past seemed very long ago.

 

“We killed Seti for love, not for hate.”

 

Evy blinked.  “Imhotep said that to me once, many years ago.”

 

Anck-su-namun nodded, blinking back tears as the past rushed upon her, hot and fast and searingly recent.  “Imhotep and I, we couldn’t live without each other.  The only way to be free was through murder.  I,” she stopped, taking a deep breath.  Her sword slipped from her grasp to clang loudly on the marble floor.  It lay there, unmoving.  “I would never have hurt you, or Menmet.”

 

Evy swallowed.  “I believe you.”

 

Anck-su-namun struggled for words.  “It would be easy to say I regretted it.  We’ve caused so much pain.”  She met Evy’s eyes.  “But life with Seti was death.  It was killing me.  Imhotep offered me love, happiness–he offered me a chance at a real life.”

 

Evy’s mouth dropped open soundlessly as Anck-su-namun’s words registered with her own life with sudden, brutal clarity.  She too remembered what it was to live a life of death.  She had, with Rameses, as queen of Egypt.  She had reigned and birthed sons and lived even though she had been dead inside.  She had given up Menmet, her chance at a real life, for duty.  How many years had she wasted as one of the living dead?

 

Anck-su-namun brushed away a tear before continuing, struggling with her own churning emotions.  She stood limply, as a woman who had lived too long and seen too much, who after many lifetimes had finally come to truly know herself.  The queen raised her head and her piercing black eyes met Evy’s in searing honesty.  And Evy knew that in those eyes there were no apologies.  “I know that I will make the same choice, in lifetime after lifetime.  I choose life, every time.”

 

Evy stood, breathing heavily.  Perhaps, three millennia ago, she had not been brave enough to choose life.  She blinked back tears.   She would never know.  There were no answers.  “I understand.”

 

And Evy turned away.  She walked over to the desk where the book still lay.  But perhaps now it’s gleam was duller, the gold less brilliant.  Was it possible the book’s glory was fading?  But as Evy picked it up, feeling its cold surface, she knew it had not changed.

 

She turned back to Anck-su-namun, who was standing still, watching her silently.  Evy looked into the face of the woman who had been so many things to her: this woman had been her teacher, her step-mother, perhaps at one time even her friend.  She had betrayed her and murdered Nefertiri’s father, imprisoned her and her son.

 

Ah, she had admired and hated this woman, she had despised and pitied her.  That there was something she could say...

 

...and Evy found the words.  They welled up from deep inside her.  “Life here is death for me.  My family was imprisoned.  People I loved were killed.”  Evy took a deep breath, fighting to keep the tears from her eyes.  “It is my turn.  And I, too, choose life.”

 

Anck-su-namun looked back, her face full of sadness and hopelessness...and understanding.  Her arms fell slackly to her sides.  “Sometimes, when I look at you...I see myself.”

 

Evy’s heart twisted.  Somehow, her life and Anck-su-namun’s life had become all entangled, had curled and twined together.  Evy’s eyes fluttered closed and then open again.  Whether they had been slave or queen, in both lives, they had both been trapped.  It was time for freedom.

 

“Imhotep is not the man you loved three millennia ago.  The man you loved has been gone for a long time.  The Imhotep now...he is cursed.  He is a plague upon the earth.”  Evy looked into Anck-su-namun’s eyes.  “You owe him nothing.”

 

Anck-su-namun stood, wracked with uncertainty.  She loved Imhotep...but in her heart she knew that Evy was speaking the truth.  Her voice left her mouth, strained and hoarse, her throat muscles clenched and tight from holding back the fiercest weeping.  “I can’t betray him, Nefertiri.”

 

“This is not a betrayal.  We must end the cycle.  Only by ending the cycle will we find peace.”  Evy hardly knew where her words were coming from, but as they left her mouth she suddenly knew that they were true.  “You will find him again.  But not in this lifetime.”

 

And with her final words, and a last glance back at the woman she had known for three millennia, Evy stepped out of Imhotep’s chambers for the final time, and walked towards her destiny.

 

***

 

 

A/N: The chapters were getting too long (and I felt like building up the suspense a bit more...mwahahaha) so I added another chapter.  There will be four more chapters, not three, so the story should clock in at 34 chaps.  Plus an epilogue.  Maybe.  We’ll see ;-)

 

Oh and yes, The Hours inspired me to write Anck-su-namun’s little speech at the end.  The more I thought about it, the more Anck-su-namun’s predicament seemed similar to Laura Brown’s.  I mean, very generally.  Kind of.  Don’t think about it too much ;-)