Chapter 31: An Intersection of Futures
Mehlchehsia laid on her side, arms down, legs bent. But for the blood, it was as if she'd simply been kneeling and fell sideways into sleep. Horus gazed at her body, her pale grey cloak, darkened across its front, doing little to hide the sharpness of her bones, her greying brown hair, crimped from what he guessed was her usual braid, outspread around her head, her deeply-lined face strangely peaceful, her grey eyes blank, her slender throat slit.
What had she been like in life? Were her steps hindered by age or firm like Tatuuf's, her voice tremulous or strong and resonant like Maeta's? Was her manner serious or with an element of playfulness like Petraylia's? Did she play an instrument like Ankanya, sing like Taesha-Ia, enjoy honey like him? Would he have found in her a friend?
He'd never know. And Petraylia would never have her longed-for reunion.
"Oh, Mehlchehsia," he said and dropped beside her. "You should have run." He took her vein-corded hand, cold, in his. "How I wish I could have spoken with you, known you."
The healers' and priestesses' laments faded, replaced with birdsong. The sharp-sweet smell of death, the bitter woody smell of incense altered, becoming the savory smells of breakfast breads.
Those who'd come with him to the village and now wandered, stricken, through the destruction suddenly were gone, and Horus was surrounded by painted mud-brick huts with freshly-thatched roofs, clusters of tents, whole and unmarred, the village's early-risers sleepily emerging.
Beside a tent, camouflaged with mud and grass stains, barely large enough to sleep within, four warriors sat talking quietly.
"This sycamore's roots aren't comfortable," the first said. "I don't know how she's sleeping."
"She's sleeping because she's exhausted," the second replied.
"Yeah, but now it's almost dawn," the third retorted. "Shouldn't we wake her?"
"She's had a long journey. Let her rest a while more."
The third shook his head. "No, we wake her. I want to leave as soon as possible. As soon as she arrived, we should have insisted she come with us and caught up with Mesrahan."
"What were we going to do, carry her?" the first asked.
"Yes, we should've," the fourth answered.
The second countered, "She's, well, what she is, Nolin. She made it this far. She'll make it the rest of the way."
Nolin frowned. "I just have a feeling something bad is going to happen."
"Yeah, you and your feelings," the second said and nudged Nolin's ribs. "Anyway, we sure don't want to run into Seht's band again. Let them get farther away."
"How do we know they won't turn back toward here?" Nolin persisted. "I know, it's not likely, they need to regroup, and they don't normally double back, but—oh, I don't know what to do. I just know I don't like this."
"We'll get her there," the second warrior said. "We're not only skilled, we're crafty."
Nolin gave a crooked smile. But in his eyes remained worry. He turned sharply. "She's stirring. Let's—"
Mehlchehsia, her cloak tangling around her, crawled from her tent. "Run," she said, voice strangled.
Nolin leapt up and crouched beside her. "What's happ—"
"Run," Mehlchehsia repeated and grabbed Nolin's arm.
The other three warriors hastening to encircle them, Nolin lifted her to her feet.
"We have to get you away from here. If you know the best path, now's the time to tell us," the first warrior directed.
Ignoring him, Mehlchehsia leaned forward from between them. "Villagers! Run!" She spun to Nolin. "I know what you want, but there's no time. They'll be here any moment. I'm not fast enough. I must concentrate on what I can do. You must defend the villagers and give me time before I die. Form your battle plan. Do it. Now."
Nolin slammed his hand against the sycamore's trunk.
The villagers began rushing chaotically from their homes. From the north came a piercing scream.
Mehlchehsia darted into her tent. A moment later, struggling under the weight of something hidden beneath her tightly closed cloak, she re-emerged. "Stay here, help the villagers, give me cover. Do not follow me. I must have a few moments alone. Do you understand? It's vital."
Jaw clenched, Nolin motioned the first and second warriors a short way ahead, the third to circle behind and hold position farther south of Mehlchehsia. He widened his stance, preparing to defend his position.
Mehlchehsia gave Nolin a small nod, ducked, and hurried into the grasses. She closed her eyes and ran till she tripped. "Here? So be it." Eyes pressed shut, she dug, dropped into the shallow hole what she carried, pushed earth to cover her secret. She stood, hunched, and walked backward, sliding her feet and rustling the grasses in front of her as she went. Finally, she opened her eyes and turned.
The tents and thatched roofs were ablaze. Lifting her chin as if steeling herself, she scurried back toward the fires till finally she reached Nolin. The fighting was drawing closer.
She laid her hand on Nolin's shoulder. "You show great strength, you and your men, holding where you must, when with all your heart you desired to force me to flee, with all your heart you yearn now to help those before you. You have my deepest respect and gratitude. Call Shaso forward to stand with us here. I require a short time more."
Mehlchehsia sat, legs under her. Again, she closed her eyes. "Great King Horus. I know you will come to this village and kneel beside my body. Bending space and time, you must hear me. Great King, hear me."
Should he speak? Horus chewed his lip. "Mehlchehsia."
She darted her gaze about her. "Great King? You speak to me? This is more than I'd dared hope."
"I'm...right here." Horus leaned nearer.
Mehlchehsia's gaze moved to him. Her eyes, widened, filled with wonder, reverence, and joy. She bowed her head. "O My King."
Horus blinked hard, and she came more clearly into focus. Gold traced her outline, and what seemed like thousands of twinkling stars surrounded her. Dazzled, he gasped. "Petraylia spoke of your energy, but I couldn't have imagined."
"Thank you. And you are beautiful to me, My King. More beautiful than anything in any of my dreams. To be in your presence is a gift beyond any, and I give thanks."
From behind her came agonized screams, the slaughter beginning.
Horus gripped his sword's hilt. "Tell me how to change this, how to prevent your death and save these people."
"You cannot. It's already happened."
"So has this conversation." He stood and withdrew his weapon.
"Yes, and both are as they are and not to be altered. Great King, I have little time and much I must say. Please, you must keep your full attention on me and hear my message. They are already dead, as am I."
The terrible scene behind her slipped out of focus. How could he fight to save them if he couldn't see them? Throat going dry, Horus squinted. "I need to see. Help me see."
"Yes, that's why I'm here. There's so very much at stake. If you don't this day begin to understand, there may be no one and nothing to save. Recall your vision. Chaos upon chaos, destruction upon destruction. Sit, My King. Do it now."
"You'll tell me how to help them?"
"Them and many more."
Lowering his sword, Horus sank beside her.
"In a vision, I saw Nephthys unwrap the magic Isis laid over Osiris' sword. I saw Seht lift the sword. But I also saw it again in your father's hands."
Horus sat back, relief flooding him. "Father defeats Seht. That's what you're saying?"
"No, but his true sword will best two powerful enemies."
"Two? Seht and Nephthys. So, Father will be restored?"
"Only you have the power to answer that question."
"I don't understand."
"You one day will."
Horus laced his hands atop his head. Taking a breath, he lowered them to his lap. "You said true sword. Is there another?"
&nb
sp; "Yes, and this is the one you must find. I saw you on a battlefield, in a strange place, facing your adversary."
"Do I win? And do I save Teo?"
Mehlchehsia was silent a moment. "He will see you victorious," she said and paused. "And your deepest wish will one day be fulfilled. But in every victory exists tragedy." She leaned forward, her gaze intensifying. "Remember this, Great King, you are both sun and moon. You must harness the power of both."
"What does that mean? And how do I do that?"
"When the time is right, you'll know. Like the Flame that serves you, I have seen you stretching eternity. Indeed, you carry within you the ways of eternity and bring them with you to the twilight of the morning, the time your coming into existence intended, the time your being here creates."
He pressed his upturned hands against his thighs. "But what does that mean?"
"You hold every answer, My King."
"Meaning, you can't tell me? I have to discover for myself?" He shook his head. "What if I can't? If, as you say, so much is at stake, can't you give me more clues?"
"You are a mystery only you can fathom. There remains one thing more for me to relate. When I was a child, I had a dream. In that dream, I was given two pouches and told to guard them until I could present them to the one who would come. The description I was given of this being seemed fantastical. I now realize everything said was truth. You must find what the secret Queen of Truth entrusted to me."
"Secret queen? Who? Mother?"
"One your mother serves in intent. Speaking of intent, you must negate the intent used against you and create your own. In this way, you'll begin to discover hint of your own mysterious majesty."
The haze directly behind her began to dissipate, the struggle drawing closer.
"No, My King, keep focus on me. Great King, find what I've hidden. You have the power to do so. Now, you must return to where and when you're sitting, Teo standing watch beside you. Know I love you. Farewell."
The scene shifted, returning to the present. "No, please," Horus begged. He had to get back and save her, save the villagers. How? Maybe what she'd brought could aid him. Yes, he had to find what she'd buried in the grasses. Feverishly, he leapt up and rushed to the spot where she'd paused and closed her eyes, Teo, Mesrahan, Sarti, and Korris on his heels.
"Horus, what're you doing? Who were you talking—"
"Sh," Horus commanded. "I have to concentrate." If he searched for trace of her energy, could he follow it? Closing his eyes as she'd done, he took a tentative step. In the blackness, he saw sparkling lights around an outline of gold, Mehlchehsia's outline. He followed it forward to where she'd stopped. "Here." He opened his eyes, fell to his knees, and scrabbled at the soil.
His fingertips touched leather. He dug harder, faster, unearthing two pouches. Carefully, he extracted the top pouch, the size of his fist, and laid it on his lap. Releasing a breath, he tugged the pouch open. In it were three cabachons, one of carnelian, one of moonstone, and one of lapis lazuli. His brows knitted. She'd risked her life to bring him stones? No, there must be something more.
Quickly, he lifted the second pouch, oblong, the length of his arm and surprisingly heavy. In it were grains of gold, silver, and copper, not enough to fashion a sword. How were three stones and a bag of metal supposed to help him? He leaned back and shook his head hard.
If he found the way to return to her, would she explain her strange offering? He jumped up and ran back, skidding to a halt beside her corpse.
How had he gone back in time? He'd wished it. Could it be that simple? She's spoken of intent. Could that have something to do with it? He tied the pouches around his sword's belt and closed his eyes, seeing her as she'd been, alive and speaking to him. "Mehlchehsia? Can you hear me?"
There was no reply, and he felt no shift in the scene around him.
Desperation growing, he cried, "Mehlchehsia."
Each time before he transformed into falcon his mind stilled, his body relaxed. He had to make that happen now. He shook the tension from his muscles and imagined floating on a cool stream. What was his intent? To discover the means to help her and everyone there.
The people and remnants of the village around him went hazy and then disappeared into blackness. "To help," he repeated silently. The blackness shifted, becoming smoke-tainted sunlight.
Her hands, arms, and head in exactly the same position, her hair's strands lifted in precisely the same way by the wind, Mehlchehsia knelt before him, staring at the spot where he'd been sitting in the past.
She lifted her gaze to meet his then smiled. "This is a blessing I wasn't expecting. How wonderful to have such a joyous surprise in these last moments." She glanced at the pouches. "You've found them. How good to know. Thank you. Truly, I'm now at peace."
"But what do they do, Mehlchehsia, the stones, the metals? Will they help me find my father's sword?"
"Yes, but not in the way you think."
The fighting, fierce, drew closer, Mesrahan's warriors fending off twelve attackers.
"I can't stop Seht from getting it?"
The two warriors fighting beside Nolin fell, leaving only him and one other to defend her.
"Great King, do you not see? You have no need of the Sword of Osiris, for you possess the Sword of Horus."
The third warrior fell.
"A moment, O My King. Nolin. Shortly, I will die. And you must run. Promise me."
Nolin, blood trailing down his arm and across his abdomen, shook his head. "I won't let you—"
"No, Nolin. You can't prevent my death. Promise me you'll grant this last request and run."
Tears streaking the blood and mud over his face, he gave a curt nod and deflected an attack.
"Mehlchehsia," Horus said, "you must let me help you."
"You already have, My King. To do more would destroy all you've come to save."
"But I can't just—"
"You must."
Standing back, catching his breath while five more men circled Nolin and Mehlchehsia, one of Seht's warriors asked, sneering, "Who's she talking to? I heard seers were crazy. Make you feel better, Seer, talking to the air? Think someone can hear you? There's nobody there." Seeing his opening, two more warriors joining the fray, Nolin knocked back and pinned, he jumped forward, knife at the ready.
"Great King," Mehlchehsia tenderly said. "Remember me. Remember my words. All you need is within you. And now, let me gaze one more time into your eyes, full of love and the promise of all that is. Let me see the light that illuminates all I know and wish to follow."
Biting hard his lip, Horus sat and, muscles straining, held his gaze to hers.
Mehlchehsia lifted her chin, exposing her throat, and Seht's warrior sliced his blade across it. She fell sideways to the ground.
"No!" Horus rushed to catch her, but his arms closed only around air.
Teo grabbed Horus' arm. "Hey. What's happened?"
"I couldn't save her. Oh, Teo, I couldn't save her." Horus wrenched upright. No, he'd gone back in time to her twice, he could do it a third. He could still save her, the villagers. There was something he'd traveled on, not a current but perhaps something like it in principle. He had to force his way back onto it.
Again, the scene around him disappeared into blackness. From seemingly far away, he heard Petraylia, voice strained with fright, calling for him to stop. But he couldn't. He had to find a way to change what had happened.
An enormous rectangle of golden light appeared just in front of him. Yes, the light had come to help him.
He hit hard, bouncing back, falling into the blackness. He veered left.
The rectangle followed, countering.
Why was the light fighting him? Who'd sent it? He extended his senses but felt only his own energy.
"Please, I have to help them," he called soundlessly, veering right.
The golden barrier swept sideway
s, again blocking him. The rectangle expanded, speeding forward toward him, and encased him, pushing him backward.
"I can't...breathe."
On he was powered, through spinning colors and blackness. His teeth buzzed, his consciousness slipping.
Finally, the rectangle gave a quick thrust and he was released, his being slamming back into his body, Nalia and Teo frantic beside him.
Horus sucked a breath, covered his face, and wept.
His friends hovered protectively around him.
Finally spent, Horus lowered his hands and nodded.
Teo touched Horus' shoulder. Gently, he said, "Time to get back to those still alive."
"Yes." Horus bent and kissed Mehlchehsia's cheek. He whispered, "I'll remember all you've told me, and I'll never forget you." Squaring his shoulders, he stood. "Mesrahan."
"O King," Mesrahan promptly answered.
"You should know your men fought valiantly. They did all they could. It would have been an honor to have them fight beside me."
Tears sprang to Mesrahan's eyes. He bowed his head. "Thank you, O King. I'll share that with their families."
Horus gave the signal, and his company marched, silent, back to the encampment.
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