Visions of Fire and Ice (The Petiri) (33 page)

He remained quiet for long seconds, and she thought perhaps he wouldn’t answer. “I do not know her name. I just know she is there for me, in the same way you are there for Ramose.”

She nodded, seeing the far away look in his eyes. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was in love. But how could he be in love with someone he saw only in a dream? Oh, for Pete’s sake, she thought, of course, he could. Isn’t that what happened to her?

“I’ll do my best for you, Amunkha.”

“And I thank you, my dear sister. You are the only one who has seen me for what I am in thousands of years. If you cannot save me, Tamara, you must destroy me. Please, I beg of you, don’t let me down. If you do, it will bring Ramose sure death.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

Tamara blinked her eyes, peering around her. She must have dozed off again after Ramose departed, leaving her in the igloo he’d created the night before. The surface above her glittered in the light, its surface a clear glaze where her heat had exploded, polishing the rough snowy surface. Even lying in the bed beneath the cocoon of cold, her body stayed warm.

She snuggled into the covers, a smile on her face. Yes, there were definite benefits to being a pyrotechnic with a soul mate who was cryokinetic. Her body tingled with the memory of his cooling touch. Oh, yes, he could cool her body any time he wanted.

Memories of a garden flitted in her mind. Amunkha! She jerked up, leaping from the bed, exiting through the small doorway Ramose had left in the ice when he’d gotten up. She had to talk to Julie, and to Ramose. There had to be a way to save his brother.

Twenty minutes later, she had finished showering and now knocked on Julie’s door.

“Come in!”

Tamara opened the door, surprised to find Julie alone. “Where’s Jeff?”

Julie dragged herself upright, wincing. “He and Ramose went for a food run, I guess. Selket wasn’t planning on quite so many guests.”

Tamara nodded as she shoved a pillow behind her cousin’s back. “Look, Julie, I need your help.” She sat on the edge of the bed and filled Julie in on her dream. “I need to learn how to do this, and fast.”

There was no time to waste. They came up with a plan, and Tamara slipped a canopic jar Selket handed her, into her trusty waist pack. The thing might be ugly, but it had its uses.

Footsteps sounded in the hall, and she smiled. Ramose was back. She charged into the hallway to meet him. Jeff stepped into the house first, his hands filled with bags and a wary smile on his face, as though he worried Tamara was angry with him. Hell, she couldn’t care in the least. She wanted to feel Ramose’s arms about her again. She blushed, thinking of the night before and the hot, sensual massage he’d given her.

Ramose stepped inside, his hands filled with bags. Selket took them then motioned to Jeff to follow to the kitchen. The two turned, and, just as Tamara moved forward to meet Ramose, a sound echoed through the hall, and a bright light flashed in the foyer.

Tamara froze. She knew that sound, and her heart thumped hard in her chest. Willing her muscles to move, she leapt forward in an attempt to escape the inevitable, but an arm wrapped around her waist and yanked her back. Ramose moved toward her, a snarl on his face, but then she heard the silken, yet evil, voice speak.

“Not so fast, brother dear.” Amunkha pressed a small metal item against her neck. While shaped like a small pen, she had a feeling it held more than just ink. A cold shiver of dread shot through her. “Move, and I’ll kill her. Surely, you recognize this.” He pulled the metal away just enough to wiggle it until Ramose’s eyes turned toward it. “I took it from your stash of weapons at the safe house. It’s from Petiri, and you know all I need do is press this tiny button, and she’s gone.”

Tamara didn’t know what he held, but Ramose did. He froze in his tracks, and it looked as though fear passed behind his eyes.

“Good.” Amunkha sneered. “It’s nice to know you still have somewhat of a brain.

“What do you want, Amunkha?”

The laughter behind her twisted in her mind. Its evil poured from Set’s mind and into her, tickling her skin with its inky blackness. She shuddered, but struggled to hear his words.

“I want to destroy you, Ramose. What do you think I want? And I know just how to do it.”

“Leave her out of this.”

The words barely registered in Tamara’s mind. Her body balked at the syrupy sense of evil so close. She flashed back to the fear from when he’d taken her to a hidden tomb. Set may have control at the moment, but she knew Ramose’s brother was still inside, fighting to regain control. She had to help him.

“Oh, I think not. I think she makes the perfect pigeon for me to play with. You see, dear brother, I once told you she was far more than you tried to pretend. She will be the reason for your downfall.”

“Amunkha,” growled Ramose.

“No,” said Tamara, forcing the sharp word from her throat. “Not Amunkha. Set.”

Amunkha/Set laughed again. “I see our little lady has been doing her homework. She must make you so proud, brother. But don’t worry. I’ll take very good care of her until you arrive. Come alone, Ramose, and, remember, I’ll kill her the instant I sense anyone with you.”

“If it’s me you want, just take me. Leave her here.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want her, brother. I said she will be the reason for your downfall. Come quickly. I think you’ll know where I’ll be.”

Pressure built, and the room began to spin. Tamara fought the urge to vomit as evil and magick encircled her in its maleficent grip. Her fire burned outward, shoving toward the hands holding her. It wasn’t enough. He was doing it again, transporting her, somehow. Pain ripped through her body. She screamed. Dizziness washed over her, and then she welcomed the blessed darkness.

Chapter Thirty-Four

The first sense to return after transport was pain. Like glass shattering and ripping apart her brain, the pain slashed her mind. Tamara winced and rolled to her side. She was on hard, cold cement. Only this time, he hadn’t tied her. Her hands jerked to her waist. Her muscles relaxed. The waist pack was still there.

Tamara pushed herself up to a sit in the dimly lit cavern. The flashes of lit torches were like daggers to her eyes. She shook her head and opened her eyes again. There were many torches, but only a few bore flames.

The sound of someone crying broke through the pain in Tamara’s head. She struggled to focus on it. Using a tall, stone slab, she pulled herself upward, only to jerk back when she realized it was occupied.

A woman lay upon the stone. About her wrists and ankles were heavy iron manacles attached to what appeared to be copper chains.
Odd. Why copper?
The metal links pulled through large holes in the otherwise solid stone table. Whatever this stone slab had been designed for, it certainly wasn’t for play.

She wore a white-pleated gown reminiscent of the ancient priestesses from a time long past. Heavy rouge colored her face, and her wide eyes were painted with thick black lines, marred by the watery streaks of her tears pouring from the corners of her eyes. The cloth gag twisted in her mouth muffled the sounds of her sobs, yet Tamara heard them all the same.

Pulling herself the last few inches upright, she loosened the gag on the woman’s mouth and pulled it away.

“Oh, God,” the woman said. Her body arched with the force of the cough as she cleared her lungs. “Please, you have to get me out of here.”

“Who did this to you?”

“Who isn’t important,” she said, yanking hard at the links holding her prisoner. “What he plans to do is what’s important.”

“What do you remember?” asked Tamara as she slid her hands along the copper chains in hopes to find a way to open them. Nothing.

The woman struggled with the chains, trying to free herself. “Not much. I was at a wedding reception. The next thing I knew, two men stood over me, asking me what I had done.” She sniffed, fighting tears. “Another man was with him, and he was naked. They looked at me like…like I did something to him.” The woman choked back a sob. “They took me home, but, a few minutes later, someone knocked at the door. I recognized the man on the other side, but for some reason I couldn’t quite place him, so I opened the door. He said he was Set, God of Chaos, and I would pay for failing him.”

Tamara let the heat melt into the chains. This must be the woman Ramose had told her about. The one who’d attacked Darius. Even so, she didn’t deserve what Set wanted to do. It didn’t take a genius to see this was a sacrifice in the making.

She would have to use her talents to melt the chains. Thank heaven they were made of copper. Unlike other metals, copper had a much lower melting point.

“Did he say what he was going to do?”

She shook her head. “No. But he had this evil look, and he kept laughing at me, as if my being here was funny for some reason.”

Tamara glanced around the room as the heat coursed from her fingers into the metal. “Yeah, that sounds like our guy, Set. I’m Tamara. What’s your name?”

“Brianna Tegan.”

Tamara nodded. “Well, Brianna, it looks like you got too close to some really nasty evil.”

The woman jerked about as Tamara worked, as though trying to free herself.

“Be still. I’ll have you out of these in just a few minutes. How long ago did I get here?” She needed to know how long it would be before Ramose arrived. There was no way she would let him die today. She glanced around the room, scanning the velvet-covered altar. A statue stood in the shadows across the room. Apophis.

“Not long. Maybe an hour or so. But I could be wrong. I don’t even know how long I’ve been here.”

Tamara wondered if she should tell the woman Ramose had left her chained, believing her to be one of Set’s minions.

At last, the first of the chains broke, dropping to the floor with a crash. A heavy ringing filled the air.

The woman’s eyes widened as she looked at the separated links.

“What? Don’t tell me you’re surprised? Surely after last night and after meeting the God of Chaos, you have to know there’s more to life than you were taught?” She glanced down at the woman’s garb. “In fact, if he made you
Hemet Neter
, his priestess, you must have talents of your own.”

The woman swallowed and raised up on her stone prison, one arm still bent at an awkward angle as Tamara worked on the chain holding her in place. “Yes. Some. I can call the four winds. But I don’t remember much of anything. Why would he take me?”

Tamara shrugged. “Because he could control you.

You had no defenses against him, and he used that to his advantage.”

The second chain collapsed with a clunk. Tamara moved to Brianna’s feet and turned the heat onto the remaining two chains. Her palms spread out over the heavy links, forcing the heat from her body into the metal. The copper glowed red, and at long last they bubbled beneath her palms, the links falling away to the floor.

“There. It’s not as great as getting those manacles off, but at least you can move around. I’d probably leave serious burns on you if I tried to remove them from your wrists.”

“I understand.” Brianna slid her legs over the side and stood, but the tired woman’s knees buckled.

Tamara grabbed hold of her arm to support her until she got her legs under her better. “Easy. I can’t have you getting hurt. It won’t be long before Ramose gets here, and all hell is going to break loose.”

Fear flashed in the woman’s eyes. “Who’s Ramose?”

Tamara smiled. “He is the one who stepped in last night, but don’t worry, he won’t hurt you.”

The woman’s eyes widened even further, but she nodded. Amunkha may have set her up as a priestess of old, and she definitely looked the part. Dressed in the white sheath and the heavy makeup. And her long black hair held the fine ancient cut so often associated with the women she saw in her dreams of Ramose. Ramose.
Damn
. He should be here soon. Scanning the chamber, she searched for the statue from the vision, spotting it in the far corner. Above its head, two curved swords crossed as though resting from a long battle.

“Wait here,” she murmured, touching the woman’s shoulder for reassurance as she passed. She unzipped the waist pack she wore and took out the canopic jar Selket had given her. She sat it on the small offering table.

Tamara moved across the floor, her eyes never leaving the stone creation she now approached. But the statue before her did not stand the same as the one in her vision. It was the same statue, but rather than holding his spear poised to throw, it held it in his hand up right, the point reaching toward the ceiling. She touched the wooden staff. It was the same thing all right, but there were other differences here as well. The woman. She hadn’t been in the vision. Something had changed. Maybe Set had changed his mind on how to kill Ramose. Or, perhaps the conversation with Amunkha had already begun to change the future.

* * * *

Set watched from his place behind the false wall as the women conversed. The
Hemet Neter
trembled violently, her eye makeup streaked with her tears of terror. Perfection. Set inhaled, his eyes fluttering closed. Ah, the sweetest scent of fear. The
Other
stirred inside him, angered. Soon, he wouldn’t have to worry about the
Other
. The time had come for his partner in crime to die. A disobliging partner, but partner all the same. A chuckle escaped their shared throat. After today, there would be no sharing. Even as he worked to bring all the pieces together, he could sense the
Other’s
weakness.

It was almost time. Unlike Horus, he would be patient. No need to rush. He would relish this night, the night he would ascend to his rightful place.

The throne of Osiris.

The women on the other side of the wall spoke in soft whispers. It was a shame to lose such a beautiful priestess. She hadn’t been with him long, but, as long as he’d controlled her, she’d done everything he asked. He’d especially enjoyed forcing her to complete the vilest of ceremonies. Her corruption had been almost complete. Such a shame her spell with Darius wasn’t completed. Returning to his throne and having his manhood healed would have been a boon few could surpass. Alas, there were others who could take her place. Darius had something he didn’t, and, until he knew what it was, he would not rest. The man was insatiable.