Anubis Nights (6 page)

“We can’t adjust the spell on the amulet, so if Kelly is going to look Egyptian, she has to dress the part.”

“Oh, you have an amulet to make her look different but not one for translation? Wonderful.”

“We were rushed.”

“Really? That guy can freeze time, so how can you be rushed?”

“He can freeze time here but not in the Underworld. And even here it’s a limited thing. We really need to send you back now.”

“Not like this. I don’t look like an Egyptian, I can’t dress like an Egyptian, and without that Bangles song playing, I can’t even
walk
like an Egyptian.”

“You have a better idea?”

“Yes, I do. I’ll wear trousers and a tunic, and Kelly can wear a Chinese dress. We’ll be traveling dignitaries or something. And we’ll both be a lot more comfortable.”

“They may execute you on sight.”

“Then make us materialize in front of them as if we beamed down from the starship
Enterprise,
and they can think we’re gods. I don’t care but I can’t do this kilt thing.”

Chronos nodded. “While it was centuries later, Herodotus traveled through Egypt. If they play it correctly, they can manage. Let’s just allow them to choose their own cover.”

“Very well,” Sharon said.

“But before you go find clothing that will work, we need to give you shots to protect you from infectious diseases of the time.”

“Good idea,” I said. I waddled over to him, aiming for modesty.

Kelly laughed at me, but she kept her breast covered with one hand. Takes one to know one.

Chronos rummaged through the gym bag Sharon had brought in and found a case with several syringes. “Here we are.”

As he gave me the injection, he said, “This shot is good for at least ten years. You will be immune to every infectious disease ever known.”

“Cool.”

“You may feel a bit ill for a day or so.”

“Wonderful.”

While the others got their shots, I went back to the locker room and changed back into my jeans and button-up shirt. When I returned, Kelly was in the ladies’ room.

I looked at Chronos. “How much time do we have before we have to go back?” I asked.

Chronos frowned. “To be safe, we should send you now.”

“Shouldn’t we get different clothes, though? I don’t have a tunic, and Kelly needs a dress. Right?”

Chronos looked at his pocket watch. “There isn’t time.”

“Well, I guess Captain Kirk never changed out of his Starfleet uniform, so blue jeans and tennis shoes will be the garb of the gods. Should we take something back to be more like gods, or will that cause problems in the time stream?”

“Time is like a river the size of an ocean. Small changes will be absorbed. We’re only concerned about large changes.”

“Right. Like in
11/22/63
by Stephen King, saving Kennedy might be a problem. Same with going back to kill Hitler, though I guess it depends on when you kill him.”

“Right,” Brand said. “Kill him too late, and Martin Bormann would just step in. Kill him too early, some other raging psychotic would rise up.”

“I love your faith in humanity,” I said.

Brand shrugged. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

I turned to Chronos. “Is he wrong?” I asked.

Chronos gave me a sad smile. “Let’s just say history has been changed a number of times. But the changes have been either small or ineffective in the long run. If an ancient empire lasts an extra hundred years, that can be absorbed. If someone detonates fifty nuclear bombs, that might make some changes.”

“And what are you worried about with our buddy Winslow?”

“If he gets the Emerald Tablets of Thoth and he learns to use the magic contained therein, he will be essentially immortal, and if he lives those years from the fourteenth century BCE until now, there’s no telling what kind of changes he could make. What if he wipes out every Christian or every Jew or every Muslim before their religions get going? That sort of change will erase all of you.”

“And you think he’d do that?”

“We think he wants to be a god.”

“I get all the fun jobs,” I said. “Be right back.”

I went out to my car and gathered up extra magazines for my Beretta. I grabbed more ammunition for my Glock too.

When I went back inside, Kelly stood beside Brand. She was clad all in black from her boots to her pants to her shirt. She had a sword strapped to her back. She saw me come inside and walked over to meet me. “I’m not wearing a dress. If we’re going to get this guy, I say we go in ready for action.”

“You want a gun?” I asked. She rarely used guns, so I expected her to say no.

“Yes,” she said, taking my Beretta. “If we can get him from a distance, that’s all the better.”

***

Ten minutes later, I stood holding Rayna off to the side of the dojo. We shared long, passionate kisses.

“We’ll be together again soon,” I said.

“This could take months, Jonathan. For all we know, it could be years. And we have to admit the possibility that this could be forever.”

“It won’t be forever.”

“I’m worried you’ll forget about me,” she said.

I kissed her and pulled her close. “You’re my reason for living,” I whispered. “You’re the one who saved me. I could never forget you. We’ll always be together.”

“I love you,” she said.

“Ditto,” I said because her favorite movie was Ghost.

“Let’s go,” Chronos said. “We don’t have all day.”

“For a guy who controls time, he’s an impatient bastard. Rush rush rush.”

Rayna placed a hand on my cheek. “He’s trying to save the world. We’d better get going. You do what you have to do. I’m going to miss you.”

“We’ll be together again soon. Nothing to worry about.”

She gave me a sad smile. “Promise?”

“I promise,” I said.

***

Chronos had us all stand in a circle around him. Kelly and I had canvas packs strapped to our backs. Brand had a satchel. Rayna simply held a small purse. Chronos chanted in a foreign tongue, and while I could hear that, I could also hear the English translation on top of it when an English equivalent existed.

Kelly and I held hands because without direct contact, I’d be stuck here in the present. Rayna frowned for a moment, but she knew I had eyes for only her, so she gave me another kiss then faced forward, ready to go to the twenties. Esther stood between Kelly and me. Brand gave Kelly a nod then closed his eyes to prepare for his journey to the 1870s.

Chronos stared into his pocket watch and shook his head. He met our eyes each in turn, holding the gaze for a moment before moving to the next person. “I’m afraid I don’t have any more advice beyond this: kill all three aspects of Henry Winslow so you can come back to the present.”

“Good advice,” I said.

“I’m going to send you as close to where Winslow’s aspects went as I can, but it’s all guesswork. The first person out will be closest. I will do my best for the rest of you, but you may have a short trip to get where you’re going because my real focus is to make sure you don’t appear embedded in a wall or a tree. Are you ready?”

His words didn’t fill me with confidence, but we all nodded.

“In that case, you’re history,” he said.

A flash of light burst from the pocket watch, and everything went blue with white lights swirling around us. I kept hold of Kelly’s hand. The lights spun like a tornado with us standing in the center. I looked over at Rayna and saw her fly into the wall of light and disappear. Shortly after that, the lights engulfed Brand, and he was gone. Esther disappeared a moment later. Kelly and I stood still while the lights circled us faster and faster.

As quickly as they flared out, they disappeared, and we found ourselves standing in the middle of a desert with archers firing arrows in our direction. My guts twisted and I realized it was a good thing I hadn’t had breakfast. Kelly looked nauseated too. Then an arrow plunged into her chest.

“I think things just got interesting,” I said.

CHAPTER FIVE

RAYNA NOBLE

Rayna Noble felt nauseated as the white and blue lights encircled her; then in the space of a breath, she no longer stood within the whirlwind but outside it. The lights flashed brightly then dropped away, and she found herself standing in front of an old-time radio. She felt dizzy but the sensation passed a few moments later. A quick look around told her she stood in the center of a small apartment with old-fashioned furniture. A newspaper lay on the coffee table, so Rayna stepped over to check the date. The headline began:

TUNNEY WINS CHAMPIONSHIP, BEATS DEMPSEY IN 10 ROUNDS
. . . She looked at the date: Friday, September 24, 1926.

“I’m really here,” she said. “I’m in 1926.”

And Jonathan was in ancient Egypt. They’d been together for only two months, but it was hard to imagine life going forward without him. It was as if she’d lived all her years to get to this one relationship and he’d lived all his years to reach her too. Why was she so worried? They were in love, and love couldn’t be bound by the hands of time.

She tossed her overcoat onto the sofa, moved across the hardwood floor to the window, and peered outside through the glass. The window looked down four stories onto a street with a Schorr Sporting Goods store; a W. Green Electrics place; and a bit farther to the left, a dentist’s office. It was daytime and people moved along the sidewalk. A few crossed the street in front of an old truck that looked brand new. A horse and buggy were parked down the block. The men wore hats, suits, and ties, while the women wore dresses, and it looked warm outside.

“This is incredible,” she said. “I’m in a completely different time.” And Jonathan was in yet another time. He didn’t even exist in the world she inhabited.

But he would soon.

Rayna left the small apartment, surprised that the front door wasn’t even locked. She didn’t know if that was unusual or if it meant the building had a doorman who maintained excellent security. She knew she couldn’t stay there, but she checked the number on the door—4B—in case she needed to know that then took the stairs to the ground level. Sure enough, a uniformed doorman stood at his post. The man was in his late fifties with graying hair visible below the hat he wore. He looked at her as she approached the door and raised an eyebrow.

“Hello,” Rayna said with a slight nod, acknowledging him the way wealthy people do and acting as if she belonged there.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the doorman said. “We haven’t met.”

“Shh,” she said, giving him a wink. “I was supposed to leave last night, but Mr. Jones was a bit energetic.” She handed him a silver dollar, and he gave her a quick nod before opening the door for her.

“Mr. Jones?” he asked.

“A lady never tells,” she said and left the building.

Outside the temperature was in the high eighties. People moved along the sidewalk, and Rayna joined the flow of traffic. She’d visited New York back in 2010, but things were a lot different in 1926. She didn’t know the city well enough to figure out where she was. She also didn’t know where to start looking for Henry Winslow. As Jonathan and Kelly were going to be in Egypt for a time before joining Brand in the 1870s, Rayna knew she’d have to live in the city for a time. How long, she couldn’t say. It could be weeks, months, or even years, depending on how things went in the past.

She had plenty of money, so the first order of business was to find a place to stay for a few days while she got the lay of the land. Cars rolled by on the street, and people brushed past her without meeting her eyes. Most things had changed dramatically in the intervening years, but some things had not changed at all.

Rayna started looking for a hotel.

BRAND EASTON

Brand felt as if he were falling inside himself. His stomach flipped and he fought to keep from throwing up. Then he hit solid ground, dropped to his knees, and waited a moment for the room to stop spinning. The worn stone floor was filthy, and Brand felt his stomach dance again as the pervasive odor of rotting garbage and human waste assaulted him. “Who died in here?” Brand said.

“What the hell?” a voice said. “Where’d you come from?”

Brand looked up and saw a large man in his early forties with long, oily, brown hair streaked with silver. The man wore tattered old clothes stained with sweat. He stared at Brand from a dirty bunk. Bars crisscrossed the window above him. Brand glanced around the small room and saw a cell door also with crisscrossing metal bars. An oil lamp burned in the hallway outside, and the corridor was lined with cell doors.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Brand said. He rose and stared at the man on the bunk. “Where am I?”

“You don’t know where you are? Hell, lad, I’m still trying to figure out where you came from!”

“Denver,” Brand said.

“From the new state of Colorado?”

“New to you,” Brand said. “Now where are we?”

“New York.”

Brand didn’t expect to arrive in New York. He expected to show up in California. He was looking forward to playing cowboy.

“Where in New York?” Brand asked.

“The Tombs.”

Brand shook his head. “Well, that sucks ass through a straw. I’ve gotta get out of here.”

“Me too.”

“I don’t belong in here.”

“Neither do I.”

Brand moved to the door. “Right. You’re a fine, upstanding citizen and all that. What’s your name?”

“Joseph. And you?”

“Brand.” He checked the door. The metal was strong, and the lock was engaged, of course. He shook the door, and it rattled a bit, but it wasn’t going to open. He turned back to Joseph, who still sat on the bunk, watching him with amusement. “Something funny?”

“Just been a while since I had company.”

Brand could have sworn he’d read something about The Tombs and how they were overcrowded. It didn’t make sense that a criminal would get a cell to himself. “Why’s that?”

“Because I like to skin my roommates. Folks in these parts don’t like that, so they keep me here alone.”

“Right. When will they make their rounds?”