Seti's Heart (8 page)

No sooner had the words left Logan’s lips than there was a flurry of activity at the front door of the establishment. Two men hovered near the door, their presence vaguely menacing, obviously looking for someone or something.

For them, Seti realized.

“Oh, shit!” Logan whispered, his face strained and pale. “We’re fucked. There’s no way we can slip out without them seeing us.”

“These men seek to do you harm?”

“They don’t look like cops. They might be private security from the Museum. But either way they’re going to find us, and we’re going to be in for a shitload of trouble. I just know it.”

“I will allow no one to harm you. I already told you this.”

“You can’t stop them, Seti, and there’s no way we can get past them,” Logan replied, shaking his head. “You don’t have a weapon, and I wouldn’t want you to use one if you did. That would only get us into worse trouble.”

“I also told you that I have other resources.”

Seti looked over at the men. One of them was talking with the barkeep, who pointed a finger toward Logan and Seti’s table. Seti narrowed his eyes, then closed them, reaching out, calling to the wind.

Would it remember his voice, even after all these years? Or would his command go unheeded?

He needn’t have worried.

The wind answered in a howl, smashing open the doors of the bar, blowing in the two large pane glass windows at the front. People fell like dominos, toppled by the fury of the gale, scrambling for cover from the shards of window glass. Like a monstrous entity, the wind swept through the room blowing dishes and glasses off the tables, lifting dust, broken glass, peanut shells, and napkins up into the air.

A funnel swirled to life in the center of the bar, standing as an impenetrable barrier between Seti and Logan and the men who sought them. Screams were heard under the roar of the wind as people fought to escape the terrifying maelstrom that undulated and twisted like a wind-demon, sucking everything that wasn’t bolted to the floor into its deadly embrace.
 

Seti grabbed Logan’s wrist, pulling him from his seat and dragging him toward a door at the back of the bar. He could not keep the wind constrained for long. He was still too weak.

A wild-eyed Wendy stood in the doorway, staring at the carnage being created in the bar by the storm. The woman was Logan’s friend, Seti reminded himself, even if she did serve piss-water and call it beer. He grabbed her hand, pulling her along with them. There was a door at the back of the kitchen, and Seti dragged them both through it just as he lost his grip on the storm.

The shriek of the wind grew louder, deafening even in the back alley as the storm within the bar exploded. Seti peered into the kitchen, where he could see flashes of lightning coming from the bar as the tempest grew in power, thunder crashing, shaking the very foundations of the building.

They needed to get away. The storm would blow itself out quickly now, and the Museum’s men would continue their search for Seti and Logan.

“Where is your home, Logan?” Seti asked. He shook Logan lightly, until at last the fear and confusion drained away from Logan’s eyes. “Your home. Where is it?”

“Oh, yeah…we can’t go to my place. They’ll be watching it, I’m sure,” Logan said. “We can go to Jason’s apartment.”

“What was that?” Wendy interjected, tugging on Seti’s arms. Her eyes were still wide with terror and she shook so badly that Seti feared she would collapse.

“Sit down, Wendy. All will be well, now. You are no longer in danger. Listen! The wind dies even as we speak,” Seti said distractedly, helping lower her to the ground. He had more pressing matters to tend to than a frightened woman. Seti turned his dark eyes on Logan. “Who is this Jason?” he asked, feeling an unexpected, piercing shaft of jealously slice through him. He shook it off, telling himself that he only cared because he wished no one else to know of his existence.

“He’s one of my best friends – we can hide out at his place.”

“We must go,” Seti said firmly. He didn’t like the idea of seeking shelter with this friend of Logan’s, but he realized that he had little choice in the matter. He urged Logan into motion, although it was plain that Logan did not want to leave Wendy sitting in the muck of the alleyway. “She will be all right, Logan. We will not be if we do not leave this place.”

Logan nodded, squatting down at Wendy’s side. “You okay?” he asked, putting his hand on her shoulder.

“Leave her!” Seti ordered, towering over them both, glaring at Logan for disobeying him – yet again.

“I’m not leaving until I’m sure she’s okay,” Logan yelled, scowling up at Seti. He turned back to Wendy, whose frightened face was streaked with tears. “Wendy? Are you all right?”

Seti was tempted to pick Logan up and throw him over a shoulder, giving him no choice but to leave, every instinct telling Seti to flee. He wanted – needed - to get Logan to safety, and Logan’s refusal to leave was infuriating him.

“Logan!” he roared. “We need to leave!”

“You’re in trouble, aren’t you, Logan?” Wendy asked, wiping away tears with the back of her hand. “You need to go, kid. I’ll be fine,” she said, giving a small laugh. “I’m a tough old broad. Listen to your friend. Go. And don’t worry…I never saw you today.”

“Are you sure?” Logan asked, giving Wendy a hug.

Seti’s fingers itched to drag Logan up from the ground by the hair. “Logan!” he hissed, “The storm has ceased. They will be coming!”

“Go on. I’m fine,” Wendy said. She looked up at Seti, narrowing her eyes at him. “You take care of this boy, you hear me? Don’t let anybody hurt him, Seti. He’s like my own son.”

“I’m a big boy, Wendy,” Logan said. Seti could tell that Wendy’s declaration had embarrassed Logan by the blush that crept up his neck. “I can take care of myself.”

“Then go, already!” Wendy said, giving Logan a push.

Logan stood up, much to Seti’s relief. He grabbed Logan’s arm, pulling him bodily down the alley toward the street.

There was a huge crowd gathered outside the bar, voices chattering excitedly about the damage, survivors, bruised and bloody, wandering in shock along the sidewalk. Logan and Seti took advantage of the chaos, melting into the crowd and disappearing.

 
Chapter Six

“We have a problem,” Perry whispered angrily into his old, black rotary phone. His fingers drummed nervously on the desktop as he waiting for a reaction from the other end.

His declaration was met by silence. Then a voice answered him in a clipped, cultured monotone. “You had better have a vital reason for calling me at this number. Any news less than catastrophic will prove detrimental to your health.”

“It’s gone. Is that cataclysmic enough for you?”

“Gone?” There was a hint of unease in the cultivated voice, a slight wavering of control. “What do you mean, it’s gone?”

“Just what I said. The sarcophagus has been destroyed, and the mummy is missing.”

“That’s ridiculous.” The voice dripped with derision. “The curse will not allow anyone to break the seals on the sarcophagus until the very last day of Seti’s sentence ends.”

“I know the fundamentals of the curse as well as you do, Ethan. Still, the mummy is gone. What does that tell you?”

Silence returned, thick and heavy with unspoken disbelief. “Surely you jest. Must I remind you of how little patience I have? Levity will get you killed, Perry.”

“Do I sound as if I’m joking? Your threats mean nothing to me at this point, Ethan,” Perry hissed, spittle coating the telephone receiver. “You were wrong! I’ve asked you repeatedly over the years to let me verify your research-”

“My data was sound, Perry, and my translation was accurate. The curse will be broken in exactly one month from today. You tire me with your incessant worrying.”

Perry snorted, a dry, humorless sound. “It appears that your translation is flawed, Ethan. Your dates are off by thirty days. That sarcophagus was broken out of, not into. He’s come back, and now he’s loose in New York.”

“That’s impossible!”

“Evidently not. This is what comes of your pretentious, arrogant, supercilious attitude, Ethan. You never trusted any of us with the translations. You had to prove that you were the most brilliant, the most crucial to our cause. You were so afraid that one of us might find an error in your work that-”

“Enough! I didn’t waste my time and fortune only to have victory snatched from my hands by a few days! If it’s true that Seti has returned, then he couldn’t have gotten far. He would have no idea of where he is, of what the world had become in his absence. He’d stick out like a naked thumb on the street. Find him.”

“I’m certain that he’s with my assistant, Logan-”

“Your assistant? Do you have any idea of what might happen if he talks to anyone about who and what Seti is?” Perry could hear the fury fueled by fear rising in Ethan’s voice. His carefully cultured voice became strained and strident. It was almost worth losing Seti just to hear Ethan Wilder lose his composure.

“I’ve already sent security to find them-”

“Kindly tell me you weren’t stupid enough to tell your rent-a-cops anything!”

“Of course not. I may not be the exalted Ethan Wilder, but I’m not an idiot. I told them that my new assistant had stolen a valuable gold torc – the one Seti should be wearing. When they find Logan and Seti, they’re to bring them both back to me.”

“Everything we’ve worked for these last fifty years hinges on finding him, Perry. He’s an Immortal. The secret to everlasting life runs through his veins. I want that secret, Perry.”

“So do I, Ethan.”

“Then find him!”

“I will. But I need you to tap into your vast resources. Find out all you can about Logan Ashton, my assistant. Who are his friends? Where is his family? If security comes back without Seti, I need to know where to send them next. I need to know where Logan would go for help.”

“I’ll get back to you as soon as I get the information. And, Perry? Do not fuck this up. Seti was your responsibility, and I will not let such failure go unpunished.”

The phone went dead as the connection was broken, leaving Perry listening to dead air.

Dead, just like Perry himself would be soon enough, if they didn’t find Seti. He’d been battling liver disease for years, hoping and praying that it didn’t kill him before Seti’s awakening.

Fifty years ago, five scientists working on a dig in Egypt had discovered a tomb buried in the sand. No pyramid marked the grave, and yet the sarcophagus had clearly been that of someone of high status. The tomb chamber was an anomaly – its seals had been completely intact with no signs of pilfering by thieves, and yet no artifacts aside from the sarcophagus had been found within it. No utensils or pottery, no riches that normally littered such a site were in evidence. Whoever the mummy had been in life, he had been buried without any of the luxuries he’d left behind.

Strange hieroglyphics had been carved into the base of the sarcophagus, markings that were not easily translated, even with the help of the Rosetta Stone. But Ethan had worked on the translations day and night, and when the meaning had finally become clear it had rocked the team to their cores.

Every one of them was aware of the legend of Seti, the king who had been cursed by his namesake god. No corroborating evidence had ever been found that indicated that Seti ever really existed, and yet the myth persisted, references found in papyri scattered throughout the region. It was said that, cursed and entombed in his sarcophagus as punishment for his transgressions, Seti would walk the earth again after five thousand years, doomed to an eternity of wandering.

But gleaming in the lantern light of the dig was what the team was certain was the final resting place of Seti. The facts were irrefutable. The figure sculpted onto the sarcophagus wore a torc that not only signified the mummy within to have been a king, but the style of the torc dated the sarcophagus to a time before the Sphinx had been built. The hieroglyphics proclaimed him to be Seti, the one who had defied the god Setekh, just as the legend had claimed, and spoke of the curse in great detail.