IMAJIN THIS!
QUALITY FICTION BEYOND YOUR WILDEST DREAMS
First 3 Chapters of 2011 Imajin Books Titles
VARIOUS AUTHORS
IMAJIN THIS!
SMASHWORDS EDITION
Published by Imajin Books at Smashwords
Copyright © 2011 by Imajin Books and various authors. All Rights Reserved.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. And any resemblance to actual persons, living, dead (or in any other form), business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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FIRST EDITION eBOOK
Imajin Books - http://www.imajinbooks.com
ISBN: 978-1-926997-49-0
Cover designed by Cheryl Tardif, Imajin Books
Dedicated to everyone who reads Imajin Books.
Acknowledgements
Special thanks goes to every Imajin Books author, for their wonderful stories and their dedication to promoting their works.
Thank you to Jennifer Johnson, our talented senior book designer, for all the fabulous covers she created in 2011. Jenn also created a couple of our book trailer videos. We look forward to another great year with her!
Thank you to Kelly Komm, who created most of our 2011 book trailer videos. Kelly, we wouldn't have had such a successful first year without you!
Thank you to our editors and proofreaders: Alisa C., Betty G., Chynna L., Kayleigh G., Lisa H., Lisa M. and Patricia L, who have edited, made suggestions and polished our manuscripts. Hopefully we haven't left anyone out.
Thank you to Larry Kaye, our patient and brilliant formatter, who also does a final proof on all our manuscripts. We wish you'd been involved since day one and we look forward to another year, hopefully with no formatting gremlins!
Table of Contents
BLONDE DEMOLITION by Chris Redding
CHASING CLOVERS by Kat Flannery
CHEAT THE HANGMAN by Gloria Ferris
CHILDREN OF THE FOG by Cheryl Kaye Tardif
DIVINE INTERVENTION by Cheryl Kaye Tardif
DIVINE JUSTICE by Cheryl Kaye Tardif
LANCELOT'S LADY by Cherish D'Angelo
REMOTE CONTROL by Cheryl Kaye Tardif
ROWENA THROUGH THE WALL by Melodie Campbell
SHADOW OF INNOCENCE by Ric Wasley
SKELETONS IN THE CLOSET & OTHER CREEPY STORIES by Cheryl Kaye Tardif
SOUL AND SHADOW by Susan J. McLeod
THE BRIDGEMAN by Catherine Astolfo
THE OTHER FACE OF GOD by C. Robert Lee
THE RIVER by Cheryl Kaye Tardif
UNDER A TEXAS STAR by Alison Bruce
WHALE SONG (and WHALE SONG: SCHOOL EDITION) by Cheryl Kaye Tardif
WHAT FEARS BECOME: An Anthology from The Horror Zine by various authors, edited by Jeani Rector
Welcome to Imajin Books, where we promise "quality fiction beyond your wildest dreams." This special chapter book showcases our 2010-2011 releases from a variety of international authors.
Our authors strive to deliver a quality read that will entertain you, maybe make you laugh, possibly raise the 'steam' level, or perhaps make you check your doors and windows. You'll find a wide range of genres, categorized on our website: http://www.imajinbooks.com.
Most of our books are available in ebook and trade paperback editions. For your convenience, we've added quick links to Amazon and Smashwords in this sample chapter book. And we've added links to our authors' websites or blogs.
IMAJIN THIS! features the first 3 chapters (plus prologues where applicable) of each of our books, so use your IMAJINation and enter the minds of our authors...
Asenath by Anna Patricio
ASENATH
by Anna Patricio
Pharaoh...gave him Asenath daughter of Potiphera,
priest of On, to be his wife...
Before the years of famine came, two sons were
born to Joseph by Asenath
daughter of Potiphera, priest of On.
Genesis 41:45-50 (NIV)
CHAPTER ONE
Egypt, 1554 B.C.
The Nile had just flooded, leaving the ground moist, rich and black. The children of our riverside village, I among them, frolicked about in the cool, gooey earth. In the distance, the ancient river circled the land, glittering with a thousand tiny dancing lights from the sun-god's Boat of a Million Years. A breeze blew, rustling the branches of the palm trees that surrounded our home.
"Kiya!"
No sooner had I looked than a mud ball pelted me hard across the stomach.
"I'll get you for that, Menah." I bent down to gather mud in my hands when another ball landed on my back. He was a quick one, my best friend.
I had just formed a mud ball and was about to raise my arm when Menah suddenly charged forward and pounced on me.
"Now you'll get the tickle torture," he said in a mock evil voice.
"No, Menah. Please, no." But I was overcome by uncontrollable laughter.
"Menah! Kiya!" voices called out, interrupting our playful wrestling.
Our mothers approached.
"Come out now," my mother called. "It is time to prepare for the Feast of Hapi."
Covered in mud from head to toe, Menah and I scrambled toward them.
Mama shook her head, smiling. "You're such a mess."
She led me back to our hut.
"What is going to happen tonight, Mama?" I asked. "I mean, after we pray to Hapi? Will there be games?"
Mama's blue eyes twinkled against her brown skin. "I see no reason why there shouldn't be."
"And lots of food?"
"All the food you could ever want."
"May I wear my lotus necklace today?"
Years ago, when I was very young, Mama had given me a beautiful carved lapis lazuli lotus pendant strung on a simple piece of coarse rope. She told me it had been in her family for many generations and that her grandmother had received it from Hapi himself.
She ruffled my hair. "Of course. Today is, after all, a special day."
As we entered our mud hut, which had been my home since birth, I saw my father mending one of his fisherman's nets. When he saw me, he pretended to cower in fear.
"A mud monster has entered our house."
I laughed. "It's just me, Papa."
He leaned forward and squinted, as if trying to get a good look, though the gesture was comically exaggerated. "Is it? Let me see. Ah yes, it's my little Kiya."
He leapt to his feet, picked me up and swung me around, ignoring the mud that soiled his hands. I squealed with delight.
"Nakhti," Mama said. "I have to get her ready."
"Yes." Papa set me down. He gave me a gentle slap across the back, motioning for me to return to Mama.
"I get to wear the lotus today, Papa."
He smiled. "I am sure you will look very pretty."
Later that afternoon, four priests from a nearby town passed by our village. They shouldered on poles our patron god's idol, which nestled upon a bed of water lilies. A ray of sunlight bounced off the golden image and it flashed with brilliance. Behind the god was a small train of dancing priestesses. They rattled sistrums and twirled around, their white dresses billowing out like clouds.
My fellow villagers and I were assembled outside our village, awaiting the god's arrival. When he appeared, we fell to our knees and touched our foreheads to the sandy ground.
"Glorious Hapi," my father intoned. "We thank you for once again allowing your water to flow and give life. We thank you for nourishing our land and our people. We pray your sacred pitchers never cease to flow. We thank you, great god of the Nile."
My heart swelled with pride. Papa was the most renowned fisherman in our village. Though he was quite an old man―many years older than my mother―he possessed skills and strength that surpassed even those of the younger generations. Everyone thus hailed him as the favoured of the river god.
"Praise be to you, Hapi," I echoed along with the rest of my fellow villagers.
As the idol trailed away, we rose to our feet and gathered up the amulets and flowers, which we would be tossing into the Nile as offerings. It was sunset now and sheer red-orange skies cast a fiery glow upon the river's rippling surface. From a distance, we heard the warbling of river fowl and the screeching of monkeys.
We approached the riverbank. It was still soft and muddy from the inundation. We tossed our offerings in. All the while, Papa chanted hymns of praise. Afterward, we returned to the village for what we children had been anticipating the most―the games.
A kind, respectable widow named Mekten, whom everyone called "Village Mother", held a game called the "statue dance." She played a reed flute while we danced and would stop at random moments without warning. We had to freeze as soon as the music stopped. Those who were still dancing were out of the game.
My friends and I loved it so much that Mekten held several rounds of it. Unfortunately, I always lost, as I always got so caught up in the liveliness of the game. However, she awarded me a small spinning top as a prize for being the best dancer.
I danced so much that I could barely keep my eyes open as we later sat down to the feast. Papa picked me up and carried me back to our hut. I was too tired to protest. As soon as he lay me down, I fell into a deep sleep.
That night, I dreamt I was on a great winged barque sailing along the Nile. It was a bright day, with the white-golden Egyptian sun shining gloriously and flocks of ibises and herons gleaming against the clear blue sky. A group of friendly monkeys, like those who usually wandered near my family's hut, kept me company on the deck, entertaining me with their hilarious antics.
Suddenly, the skies darkened and the water began to thrash against the barque. The monkeys leapt up and down, screeching frantically. I grabbed onto the rail.
Thunder rumbled. Fierce white waves threatened to haul us overboard. The barque tipped to a dangerous level and I began to scream.
Waking, I placed my hand over my heart, which was pounding fiercely. I was about to heave a sigh of relief when I heard the rumbling from my dream. I sat up, my chest constricting in fear once more. The noise sounded like it was coming from outside our hut.
The rumbling stopped.
I heard a strange voice shouting in a language I could not understand.
My father appeared beside me. In the dim light, I could see the outline of his bony profile as he knelt by my side.
"What's that noise, Papa?"
He put his arms around me and before he could answer, a chilling scream sliced through the air. Other screams followed. Soon, the air was filled with a frightening cacophony―screams, cries and more shouts in that strange language.
Papa's grip on me tightened. "Come, Kiya. We must hide you."
The door of our hut flew open.
Two enormous, fearsome-looking warriors towered like the tallest trees. Their faces were thickly painted in bright, garish colours. They wore loincloths made of animal skin and peculiar pointed headdresses that emphasised their unusual height. In their hands were spears that glinted threateningly.
Mama screamed.
One of the warriors shouted something, while waving toward us. Another dashed forward and snatched me out of Papa's protective hold.
"Papa!"
The monster hauled me outside.
I kicked and flailed. "Papa!"
"Kiya!" Papa hurried after me.
Alas, though he was strong and agile, he was no match for these giants.
They ran with such enormous strides that in no time he was out of sight.
"Papa?" I writhed about in the warrior's iron grip. "Papa!"
I felt a blow to the back of my head and the world turned black.
Cold water slapped my face. When I opened my eyes, I was staring into the massive painted face of my captor.
"Get up," he snarled. His breath was fouler than rotten fish.
I struggled to my feet. Though I was still in a daze, I dared not disobey.
The warrior grabbed my arm and led me through pitch-black darkness. I was certain he was going to kill me. My chest tightened with fear.
He led me out into a brightly lit clearing. It looked like we were in the midst of a dense jungle. A campfire crackled at the centre where the warrior's comrades sat feasting and talking.
Relief washed over me when I noticed my fellow villagers huddled together at the far end. Menah was with them.
I smiled. "Menah!"
The warrior slapped me hard across the face. "You are not to speak. If you do so again, we will kill you."
I shuddered, though I was less frightened than before now that I knew I was not alone.
The warrior dragged me over to the villagers and shoved me amongst them.
"Stay with them. No talking and no trying to escape." He glared at us, then went to the fire to join the others.
Menah took my hand.
"Where are my parents?" I asked in a bare whisper.
He looked at me sadly and shook his head.
I knew what that meant. They were not there.
I suddenly threw up.
In a flash, the warrior was before us. "What's going on here?"
No one answered.
"She felt sick and vomited," our village mother Mekten said finally.
The warrior turned to his comrades and said something in their language. They laughed boisterously. He shook his head and returned to them.
Tears spilled from my eyes. Menah held me and rocked me, comforting me. I sobbed for a long time, eventually crying myself to sleep.
What followed was an arduous journey through the jungle. The scorching sun was merciless and mosquitoes bit my arms, legs and face. The entire time, our captors threatened to murder us and I might have actually died with despair had it not been for the familiar faces around me.
I do not know how far we travelled, but just as I thought we would perish, one of the warriors announced we had reached our destination.
It was early evening. We were led toward a tribal encampment illuminated by a towering bonfire. Drumbeats pounded in my ears as we drew nearer. When we entered the camp, I saw tents made of dyed animal hides, as well as poles topped with the decapitated heads of people and animals. I averted my eyes, trying to erase the horrific images from my head.
The drums were deafening as the tribespeople surrounded us. Like our captors, they were wrapped in animal skins. Their bodies were pierced in just about every part and painted in bright colours. I shuddered when a small child with painted teeth and a pierced nose came over and poked at my face.
My fellow villagers and I were lined up in front of the bonfire. I thought for sure they would murder us. I whimpered as one of the warriors strode up to us. I recognised him. He had entered my family's hut.
The warrior paced the length of our row. "Do you know why you are all here?"
No one answered.
He glared at us. "Many years ago, your Pharaoh murdered our chieftain. I am that chieftain's son and will now avenge my father's death. Until your king makes amends, we will continue to destroy your wretched country. If he does not, we will fight until Egypt is no more."
As he reached me, he stopped pacing and smiled, revealing crooked yellow teeth. "What is your name, little girl?" His voice was gentle.
"K-Kiya," I squeaked.
"What a beautiful girl you are. Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?"
I did not answer.
"How old are you?"
"Nine."
"Ah. Perfect." His hideous grin widened. "You will be my slave, Kiya. And when your red moon comes, you will become my bride."
I stared at him, too horrified to speak.
He stepped forward. "That flower around your neck goes very well with your lovely face." He fingered the lotus pendant and I pulled back.
"Where are my parents?" I blurted.
"We left them behind, little one. We have no use for them." He laughed cruelly.
My fear was replaced by rage. "I want my parents. Bring me back to my parents."
One of the warriors rushed toward me, but the chieftain held up his hand. He stared into space for a moment. "Very well. If you work hard, I will send for your parents by the time you and I are ready to marry."
My anger began to abate. "You mean that?" I looked into his dark eyes, which were surrounded by a strange painted pattern of dots.
"Yes. So what do you say, little Kiya? Are you going to work hard?"
I hated that he called me "little Kiya." It sounded like he was trying to replace Papa. But I knew that if I wanted to see my parents again, I had to be obedient and silent.
I nodded.
"Good," he said, turning away.
"What is a red moon?" I asked.
Some of my fellow villagers stared at me, aghast, while the tribespeople roared with laughter.
The chieftain approached Mekten. "Be Kiya's advisor and explain to her what a red moon is. I am sure you know full well." He winked at her.
I felt sick at that gesture, even though I did not understand what it meant.
Mekten nodded in submission.
The chieftain waved his arm, inviting his people to pick slaves from among us.
A tall, thin woman with large bone earrings and a cold expression led Mekten and I to the chieftain's large tent. When we stepped inside, I nearly screamed. The place was festooned with more disembodied animal heads, as well as enormous wooden masks with frightening expressions. The dim light from torches cast shadows on the eerie things, making them look almost alive.
The tribeswoman pointed to a dirty mat at the far end of the tent. "You will sleep there. Go now." Mekten and I headed for the mat, but the tribeswoman grabbed Mekten's arm. "Not you. You will stay here."
I stared at them, confused, and the woman glared at me. "Go!"
I hurried over to the mat as the tribeswoman extinguished the torch, plunging the tent into complete darkness.
All was silent. Then the tent's flap rose, revealing the bulky profile of the chieftain. He shuffled inside and the flap swung closed.
Not long after, I heard Mekten crying out in fear and pain. Heavy breathing followed. The louder Mekten screamed, the heavier the breathing grew.
Though I had no idea what was happening, I knew I was hearing something bad. I covered my ears, but it was no use. Similar screams rose from the neighbouring tents. I slept amongst nightmares, waking at times to the sound of terrified cries and heartbreaking sobbing.
The following morning, Mekten acted scared of everything and everyone, which wasn't like her. I wanted to make her feel better, but I didn't know how. Even the most trivial things I did frightened her. Throughout the day, I kept a distance from her. But at times, I tried to reach out to her. She was, after all, one of our dearest family friends.
"Mekten," I said in a timid voice. "What is a red moon?"
Mekten looked at me with sad eyes. Finally, she took a deep breath and explained everything in a shaky voice before breaking down.
CHAPTER TWO
For the next months, I woke up each day to a fresh new dread, which remained with me until the time I went to sleep. Even in my dreams, I was given no respite. Sometimes, I woke up in the middle of the night, worrying if we would ever be rescued and if I would ever see my parents again.
Then one morning, at a most unexpected moment, my red moon dawned. Though Mekten had already told me all I needed to know, nothing could have prepared me for a pain so terrible that I could barely stand.
When Mekten saw me hunched on the mat, she immediately flew to my aid. I was more than grateful as I desperately needed help. She gave me soothing herbs, then eased me into a foetal position, which improved my condition remarkably.
As I knelt on the ground, she whispered to me, "Kiya, I'm pregnant."
I gasped. "How?" Though Mekten had already told me the mysteries of womanhood, there was still so much I didn't know.
"Ah...it's a long story."
"Will you be all right?"
"I hope so. I mean...yes, I will." She gave me a clearly forced smile.
"If you need any help, you can always come to me."
"Thank you, Kiya. I'd better go. I'll cover your chores for you."
After she stepped out of the tent, I held the lapis lazuli lotus pendant close to my chest, thinking about Mama and Papa. In the rare, blessed silence of the tent, I tried to send messages to them, telling them that we would all be together again soon.
A week later, I was lost in a dreamless sleep when I heard a faint rumbling, like distant thunder. I paid it no attention, even as the rumbling continued.
Then I opened my eyes to the tent's heavy darkness and realised that the rumbling had become nearly deafening.
I sat up. This was so much like the day we were captured. Whatever it was, whatever would happen, it could only be worse.
Without warning, the tent's entrance flap was ripped apart and the breaking dawn light revealed three tall soldiers dressed in bronze breastplates and leather kilts. I screamed as they brandished their swords. One of the soldiers charged toward Mekten and I, while the other two headed for our masters.
"Don't be afraid," the soldier said. "We're here to save you. We're Pharaoh's army. Come!"
Immediately, Mekten and I leapt to our feet and hurried outside without looking back. I saw that the camp was already in the throes of battle. Cries rang out as the horses and chariots of the Egyptian army swept throughout the camp. Groups of soldiers tore down the tribespeople's tents. Weapons clashed and blood spilled everywhere.
Not far from me, one of Pharaoh's soldiers beheaded a tribal warrior. Blood sprayed all over me and the head rolled at my feet. I stopped in my steps, shocked.
"Come on, little girl!" my rescuer cried. He grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the encampment.
Mekten and I were led to a safe distance, where a makeshift barricade of wagons and chariots had been set up. I saw that a number of our fellow villagers were already gathered there, guarded by more Egyptian soldiers.
"Kiya!" Menah suddenly appeared and darted toward me.
I screamed with joy this time and held out my arms to my beloved best friend. Our masters had kept us apart the entire time. The only one of my people I could speak to was Mekten, as I worked with her.
But now, Menah and I swept each other up in a fierce embrace. Then some of the adults came to us and hugged us both. Soon, we were all embracing each other. Some of us laughed, some cried with relief.
We must have made such a sorry sight, with our ragged clothes, soiled and bruised faces and stringy hair. But we did not care. Even the soldiers at the barricade watched us with smiles.
In no time, Pharaoh's army emerged victorious and we received them with clamorous cheers. Those of the tribespeople who had not been killed were rounded up to be made slaves in Egypt. As for the chieftain, I heard he and his entire family had been murdered. I shed no tears for them.
The much longed-for journey home started out happy, needless to say. The soldiers sang victory songs and invited us to join in.
However, one day Mekten whispered to me to go fetch the doctor. She was bleeding, she said. He came to her at once and our journey was brought to a halt.
I tried to comfort my friend, but my efforts seemed to be in vain. Her face was twisted in pain and she was taking deep, ragged breaths.
"Mekten," I whispered, as she let out a groan that brought tears to my eyes. I took her hand. "Mekten, it's all right."
"Kiya," the physician suddenly said. "She's bleeding very badly. Go get some linen."
I gathered as much as I could. But soon, the pile of bloodied cloths rose high at the side and Mekten's mat had become a deep crimson red.
I took her hand once more and leaned my face close to hers. "Mekten, I am so sorry. I am trying to do everything I can."
"Thank you for your kindness, Kiya." Her voice was hoarse, as she struggled to get the words out. "Thank you."
Then, her hand went limp and her head rolled back, looking up at me with a hollow, vacant expression.
I threw my head back and let out a loud wail. Soon, the rest of my fellow villagers gathered to me, joining me in my mourning.
The soldiers were kind enough to allow us a solid day of grieving. When we were ready to move again, the adults wrapped Mekten's body in linen and placed her aboard one of the wagons. We would be taking her back with us to the village to bury her there. It was the least we could do for our beloved Village Mother, after all she had done for us.
The rest of the journey home was sombre. But when one of the soldiers informed us that we were only a couple of days away from our home, our spirits soared once more.
I began to imagine my reunion with my parents. Would Papa pretend to see a ghost, then gather me up and swing me around? Would Mama hold me close, and in her beautiful soothing voice, tell me how much she had missed me and how much I had grown?
I smiled thinking about it.
Soon, our beloved home appeared as a speck in the distance. The moment my fellow villagers and I saw it, we burst into cheers that could have subdued the storm-god Seth.
Suddenly, some of us began darting ahead. I thought that was a good idea and joined them.
In no time, a crowd came pouring out of the village. Amidst the joyous shrieks, crying and hugging, I looked around for my parents.
They were not there.
I tried to ignore the dread that rose up inside me. Perhaps Papa was still out fishing and Mama was out gathering water and herbs.
I blinked in astonishment. Already, I had readjusted to the old routine. It was as if the entire captivity had just been a horrible nightmare.
I entered the village, the familiar surroundings opening up around me like welcoming arms. Nothing changed, but nothing ever really changed here. Still, the people of our village never had reason to complain, for everything we loved and wanted was here—our families and friends, our comfortable mud huts and the pristine beauty of the Nile.
I arrived in front of my family's hut. I gazed lovingly upon it for a moment, then entered.
The house was extremely filthy. A thick layer of dust covered everything. Cobwebs draped from the ceiling and frogs and rodents scampered about.
A strange squeaking noise sounded from inside one of the water jars. I edged toward it and peered inside. To my horror, I saw a rat had given birth to slimy pink blobs. I screeched and backed away.
I was still looking around in bewilderment, wondering why our house was in such dreadful condition, when I heard a voice outside, "Kiya."
I turned around. Standing at the entrance to our hut was one of my father's closest friends, an elderly fisherman named Sakhbu.
"Welcome home. It's good to see you."
I hurried over to him. "Where are Mama and Papa, Sakhbu?"
Sakhbu paused for a moment. My skin grew cold. There was something about his voice. Something...bad.
Sakhbu took a deep breath. "Kiya. Be brave. Be strong." He placed his hands on my shoulders.
"Where are they?" I stared into his wrinkled face, suddenly too frightened to speak.
"Kiya." His voice was now soft. "Your parents have gone to the realms of the gods. The warriors murdered them after they took you away. They murdered Menah's parents as well."
All I remember after hearing that is screaming as I collapsed to the ground.
When I regained consciousness, I saw I was back inside my family's hut. Three faces looked down at me. One was Sakhbu, the other was his wife and the third was a portly, middle-aged man I had never seen before. I could tell from his garments that he was a priest. I also knew that he was not from around here, because he carried himself with pride and grandeur, unlike the nearby town priests, who were simple and modest.
"Are you all right, Kiya?" Sakhbu asked.
I stared up at him without answering, not because I did not want to, but because my tongue could not move.
"It has all been too much for her," Sakhbu said quietly to the priest. "And really, Lord Pentephres, who can blame her? First her captivity, and now this."
The priest clucked his tongue. If I had not been numb, I would have been intimidated by his grandeur.
"It is indeed too much for a young child." He looked at me with eyes lengthened by cunning kohl streaks. "Her parents need not worry. They can rest knowing that..."
Then I slipped back into nothingness.
CHAPTER THREE
I was certain I had died. There were no sounds, not even a faint light, nothing. I could not even see the gods who would decree my eternal fate. Perhaps I had been deemed worthless by them and discarded for all eternity.
One day, the darkness lifted.
I opened my eyes and saw I was in a strange room. Rows of reed mats stretched out to either side of me. Torches burned from alcoves in the stone walls. A large window revealed a dark-blue sky.
I looked around blankly, my mind in a fog.
A door at the far end opened to reveal a tall thin woman. She hurried over to me.
"Kiya! Praise Re, you have awakened." She knelt by my side.
"How are you feeling?"
My voice was hoarse. "Uh, all right. Where am I? What is this place? Who are you?"
The woman smiled. "I am Irikara. You are here in the Temple of Atum-Re in Heliopolis. The high priest Lord Pentephres brought you and some of the other village children here."
"What's Heliopolis?"
"The city of the sun-god."
My eyes widened in fear. "You mean this isn't my village?"
"No, Kiya. You are in the city now."
I began to shudder. I knew nothing of the big cities, except what I once heard from a passing trader. He told us that little children there were tied up in sacks and left to die.
I whimpered.
Irikara placed a gentle hand on my arm.
"Don't be afraid, Kiya. We're here to help you. Lord Pentephres has commanded that no harm should come to you or any of the other village children. And some of your friends are here too. Do you know Menah?"
My anxiety immediately vanished. "He is my best friend."
"How about the twins, Lyla and Nyla?"
"Yes."
I didn't know them too well, for they were quiet people who often kept to themselves. But I was more than happy to have familiar people around.
"Menah has been asking about you every day," Irikara said. "And Nyla sleeps on the mat next to you. This is the room for the girls, you see. Menah sleeps in the boys' room."
"Do you sleep here too?"
"Yes, over there by the window." She nodded toward it. "Anyway, we've cleaned you up so that you're now fresh and pretty."
For the first time, I noticed I had on a new and clean white dress.
"I also saved this for when you awoke." She drew something from her pocket.
I gasped.
It was the lapis lazuli lotus necklace. It was then I realised how close I had come to losing it.
Irikara pressed the precious gift onto my palm. My fingers closed tightly over it.
"Thank you!" I said. "Thank you, Irikara."
She smiled. "Why don't you go freshen up for dinner? You'll be able to see Menah and the twins. I'll leave you for awhile. You can wash your face over there."
She motioned to a pitcher and some bowls.
I gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you."
Everything was still so strange to me. But she seemed very nice.
"I shall see you soon." She disappeared out the door.
I strung the lotus around my neck. After splashing my face, I went over to the full-length mirror by the window.
I gazed at myself.
The dress I wore was cut modestly and reached just below my knees. My hair, which had become stringy and smelly during my captivity, now fell to my hips in a glossy black veil. My feet were bare. Though I was dressed very simply, I thought I looked glamorous.
I twirled around, loving how the dress flared out slightly. If only my parents could see me now.
Suddenly, everything came crashing back to me.
The captivity.
The terrible news of Sakhbu.
I woodenly walked back to my mat and sank down. It was not fair. I wanted to break down and cry, but for some reason the tears would not come. In the depths of my heart, I cursed Hapi for allowing this to happen. Never mind that I was in a temple.
I was so lost in these dark thoughts that I did not see Irikara reappearing until I felt a hand on my shoulder.
"Kiya? Are you all right?"
I jolted, then looked up at her. "Yes, I'm fine."
As nice as she was, I did not feel comfortable confiding in her.
"Let's go get something to eat." She nodded.
I rose and followed her outside.
"Great Re, aren't you tall!" she said.
As Irikara led me down a dimly lit corridor, she said, "Before you have dinner, you will be meeting with some of the senior priests and priestesses of the temple. Lord Pentephres is currently away. He is in Thebes, meeting with Pharaoh. He will want to see you when he returns. Be on your best behaviour. Bow when you are introduced. The priests will be asking you several questions. Reply truthfully. If you do not know what to say, I will answer for you."
I nodded blankly. Her words barely registered in my mind.
Outside, the night was cold. I shivered and hugged myself.
Irikara led me through dirt paths lined with squat, mud brick structures, then into an alleyway. At the end, we found ourselves on the threshold of a gleaming courtyard.
My jaw dropped. I had not imagined that the rugged path would lead to such an elegant place. The courtyard's grounds were laid with polished tiles that reflected the torches. Rows of lotus columns lined the sides.
At the centre was a towering pointed pole, an obelisk covered in precious stones. The tip was capped with a solid golden benben pyramid which flashed against the looming night sky.
"Come now, Kiya," Irikara said. "We must not keep the priests waiting."
With great difficulty, I detached my eyes from the magnificent sights. I continued on my way. As I followed her across the courtyard, I smelled the bittersweet scent of incense wafting through the air.
Irikara led me inside an enormous limestone building. Once more, I paused in my steps.
The walls were covered in colourful glittering images. I approached a portrait of a hawk spreading out its glorious wings. The picture was made up of tiny precious stones.
"Kiya, come." Irikara tugged my arm and practically dragged me the rest of the way through the corridor.
We entered a vast hall. At a long cedar table, two priests and a priestess sat before a sumptuous feast—roast fowl, lotus bread, cucumbers, onions and honey cakes.
Irikara led me up to them. She bowed.
I awkwardly aped her movements.
"Ankh, weneb, sedjet―life, health and prosperity to you, holy ones," she said. "Please allow me to introduce to you Kiya. She was one of the
village children who came with Lord Pentephres. Alas, she was unconscious upon her arrival."
One of the priests, a short, stout balding man, gave me a friendly smile. "How old are you, Kiya?"
"Ten."
I cast a quick glance up at him before averting my eyes once more. Though I did not know anything about the city, I knew these were important people to be respected and feared. Gleaming in their linen robes and sparkling jewels, they looked like they could command day to be night with a single word.
The priest looked at his colleagues. "She's quite a lovely girl, don't you think?"
The second priest, a thin man with a large nose, frowned. "What trades do you know?"
He looked at me with large painted eyes that seemed to see through me.
I stared at him, not understanding the question.
"Did you do any chores before you came here, little girl?" the friendly priest asked.
"Um, I―"
"Speak up!" the frowning priest said.
"I cleaned tents and washed laundry. Before that, I helped my mother clean our hut. I also gathered water from the river."
"Tents, indeed," he scoffed. "We're not lowly barbarians."
"Neither is she," said his more amiable colleague. "She is Egyptian, just like us."
"She's awfully tall for her age," the priestess said, looking at me as if I was something that had gotten in her way.
The frowning priest waved his hand. "Very well. Irikara, you may take her to be fed."
We bowed and left the room.
Irikara led me outside once more. We entered another building which was unmistakably the kitchen. Delicious cooking smells filled my nostrils.
I realised I was starving.
Irikara seated me at a table. A frowning old serving woman approached and dumped food onto my plate. I was too hungry to feel offended. I gobbled everything up.
After I had satisfied myself, I heard footsteps behind me.
"Kiya?"
I turned. It was Menah and the twins. I let out a whoop of joy and flew over to them.
"It's so good to see you." I embraced them tightly.
"You too." Menah squeezed my arm.
Beside him, the twins were silent, though there were wide smiles on their faces.
"We were so worried about you, Kiya," Menah said. "I asked Irikara―"
"You urchins are too loud," the grouchy old woman screeched. "Lower your voices or I won't give you any more food for the night."
Menah gave me a look. He leaned toward me and mumbled, "Don't mind her. That is just the old kitchen hag. She and her daughter are so mean. But everyone else here is nice."
"Old hag? Menah, you dreadful thing! By the way, what happened to your hair?"
He grinned and ran a hand through his newly bald head. "Shaved it. Makes me look more dashing, don't you think?"
I giggled. "No. You look funny."
"This is how the royal princes look, Kiya." He raised his chin.
"Whatever you say." I rolled my eyes and laughed. I realised I had not laughed in a long time.
After dinner, I returned to the girls' room with the twins. I saw most of the mats were occupied by sleeping females of all ages. Lying beside me was a young woman who I had not met yet. She was already snoring soundly. I wondered if I would be able to get to know her the following day.
Long after the twins had fallen asleep and the last torch had been extinguished, I lay listening to the snores and grunts around me. Though I was very tired, I could not fall asleep.
I felt my grief weighing down upon my chest, nearly suffocating me. In an effort to block out the pain, I squeezed my eyes shut.
My fingers brushed against something tiny and pointed.
The lapis lazuli lotus.
I held it to my chest. I would guard it with my life.
It was all I had left of everything I had ever known and loved.
I awoke the next morning to Nyla's gentle prodding. I opened my eyes. Nearly all the mats in the room were empty.
"Is everyone already up?" I rubbed my eyes.
"Yes. Come Kiya. We'll show you the bath house."
Her voice was barely audible.
I struggled to my feet and followed the twins outside.
Our roommates stood around in groups that looked to have been established long ago. They chatted and gossiped, completely ignoring us.
I envied at how confident they looked. I wondered if I would ever be able to find my place in Heliopolis, or if I even had one at all.
Later after breakfast, Irikara came rushing up to me. "Kiya! Lord Pentephres arrived earlier than expected. He wants to see you now. Come!"
I looked at Menah nervously.
He smiled. "It'll be all right. Go. I'll see you later."
I followed Irikara across the courtyard. I practically jogged to keep up with her.
"Hurry up, Kiya," Irikara said, even though we were already moving quite rapidly. "We don't want to keep the high priest waiting. Hurry!"
Gods. She had too much energy in her.
Midway down a tree-lined path, Irikara suddenly stopped and turned around.
I crashed into her. I braced myself, expecting an angry outburst.
"Now Kiya, Lord Pentephres and his wife, the Lady Satsepdu, are the most important people in Heliopolis. Remember to be on your best behaviour like you were last night. When we greet them, prostrate."
"What do you mean 'prostrate?'"
"Kneel and touch your head to the floor."
She wet her thumb and dabbed at a spot on my cheek. "There. Perfect. Now come on."
We approached a large rectangular pool that reflected the cloudless blue sky above. Ducks and water lilies floated on its surface. Around it were acacias, sycamores, palms and brightly coloured flower beds.
A couple stood by the pool with their backs to us. Irikara cleared her throat. They turned around.
She dropped to her knees. I followed suit.
"Life, health and prosperity to you, holy ones," Irikara said. "To you, Lord Pentephres, hem-netjer-tepy, Chief Prophet of Heliopolis, Great Seer. And to you, Lady Satsepdu, werest heneret, Chief Concubine of Atum-Re. Greetings in the name of Pharaoh Amenhotep, the living god, may he live forever."
"Arise," the high priest said.
We rose to our feet.
I stood slightly behind Irikara. She gently tugged me forward. I caught her expression and saw a hint of a frown.
"My lord and lady," she said. "Please allow me to introduce Kiya."
I bowed. I was very nervous. When I rose back up, I saw the regal couple staring at me intently.
They were dressed more opulently than the priests and priestess I had seen the previous night. Lord Pentephres donned a fine linen robe embroidered with golden stars. A large glittering pendant of the Eye of Re hung around his neck.
His wife wore a gown of silver folds that draped prettily across her slender frame. Upon her head was an ebony wig dusted with gold.
The couple's gaze was made more intense by the kohl streaks lining their large eyes. Then they broke into warm smiles, as if I was an old friend they had not seen in years.
"How have you been, Kiya?" Lord Pentephres asked.
"Very well, my lord."
"Has everyone been looking after you?"
"Yes." I swallowed. "Y-yes, my lord."
"That is good. We were worried about you."
"You were right, Pentephres," Lady Satsepdu spoke up. "She is quite an extraordinary child. So tall for her age too. My dear, Hathor has blessed you with the finest beauty in the Two Kingdoms."
I blushed and mumbled an incomprehensible thanks.
"She has indeed," Pentephres said. "Well, Kiya, you are going to stay here for a while so that we can look after you. Would you be happy for us to do that?"
"Yes, my lord."
"It is not such a bad place. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to approach us. We would very much like to help you."
"Thank you, my lord." I began to like the couple, even though I barely knew them.
"However," the high priest said. "We will need your help at times as well. Pharaoh will be coming in a couple of weeks for the Feast of Atum-Re. There will be much to do. Do you think you can help us there, Kiya?"
I grew excited. "Of course, my lord."
"I am pleased to hear that. Very well." He flicked his wrist, indicating the meeting was over. "Go now. I shall see you again soon."
As soon as we were out of the priestly couple's hearing range, I squealed, "Irikara, Pharaoh is coming. That is so exciting."
"It is indeed." She smiled. "There will be a lot of work to do though. But it should be fun."
"Have you seen him before?"
"I certainly have."
"What is he like?"
"He is, as we know, the living god."
Then, she lowered her voice. "He is quite elderly now, but rather on the frail side. Not at all like what those statues of him depict."
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Blonde Demolition by Chris Redding
BLONDE DEMOLITION
by Chris Redding
CHAPTER 1
Mallory Sage's heart raced at the sight before her—a bomb.
It had all the parts necessary to blow up the beer trailer and everything nearby—including her fellow firefighters at the Coleville Volunteer Fire Company.
Adrenaline and anger streaked through her.
She called to her chief. "Jesse, get out."
I won't lose you. Not now. Not like this.
Jesse Moran backed away from her, licked his lips, then moved in her direction. "Get out of here, Mal."
Her heart sank. Even in the face of a bomb, her lover was willing to protect her. She clenched and unclenched her fists, her breath coming out in pants. "Not without you, Jesse."
Without taking her eyes off Jesse, she shouted to another firefighter. "Call 911. Tell them we need the bomb squad."
When Jesse reached her, she yanked him out. He had a hundred pounds on her. She had the element of surprise. "Get me wire cutters."
Jesse looked at her as though she had three heads.
"Do it."
He shook his head. "No, you don't know what you're doing."
She made eye contact with one of the bystanders. "Get me wire cutters and clear everyone out of here. Make sure no workers are on the fairgrounds."
The last thing the struggling fire company needed was to lose this fair. It was their sole fund raising effort. These guys missed dinners and family events to put out fires and some jerk with a penchant for bombs couldn't be allowed to do that to them.
What if this is just the beginning?
Part of her knew it was. She'd seen more than enough in her job with Homeland Security to know that this bomb was part of some larger plot.
Just when I was thinking about the future…about moving on, finding my birth parents. Just when I was sure that chapter was over…
Here it was.
The men moved to do her bidding. Except Jesse. He was still standing in the doorway, his gaze piercing her. "Mal, get out. The timer said only ten minutes."
She blinked. Still he'll protect me. Shield me.
Her heart pounded as a thrill danced down her spine. Then the reality of the job at hand crept in and she put on her game face. Her demeanor was slow and steady even though her pulse still raced.
The bomb squad wouldn't get there in time. It was going to blow. She had no choice but to defuse the bomb herself.
She grabbed Jesse by the shoulders. "Look at me."
He did, and his eyes filled with a fear she'd never seen. Even though he could confront a fire, a bomb was out of his league.
But not hers.
"Jesse, do you trust me?"
"Yes."
"Go. I can take care of this."
"No." He ran a hand through his red hair. "This is stupid. I'm not losing you."
The realization cut through her like shards of ice. Oh, God.
In that moment, she knew she'd never been his to lose. Maybe I've always known the past would resurface. Maybe I've only been on hiatus from that life.
The dream had come out of the blue for firefighter Cal Stedman. He didn't put much stock in the everyday dreams people had, but he knew this one meant something. He'd been tired. More tired than he should have been and came home early from setting up the fair at his firehouse.
Maybe that was why he'd dreamed.
Having lost his wife five years ago, he now lay alone in bed. His bones ached from the physical labor of moving cinderblocks and putting up snow fencing around his beloved beer tent.
The dream rolled around in his mind. The woman in it...
I thought I'd put her out of my mind a long time ago. I did worship her. Too bad she left me when I went into the military.
He shifted onto his side, noting that darkness had fallen while he'd been asleep. He saw midnight on his clock.
"You have a child," the dream woman had said.
But he didn't. He and his wife had tried for years with no heirs.
Why would I dream about a child at this late date in life?
He groaned at his ailing muscles, feeling his own mortality in their hum. Maybe it was that very sense of his growing old and closer to death that led him to think about a child. One he hadn't had with his wife.
The whole time I was a cop, I never felt this vulnerable, this...mortal.
His eyes drifted closed as his mind returned to dreamland.
What if I do have a child?
Booth leaned against the wall in the firehouse, his gaze glued to the beer trailer. When the contract had come down, he hadn't believed whom he would have to kill. She couldn't look any more harmless.
She did know how to defuse bombs.
Go figure.
The kill would be easy. Still, he hadn't been given the go-ahead yet. He'd practice his shot until it was time.
Even if that weren't how he'd kill her.
For a moment, his heart wasn't in it. He tamped that down. It was unprofessional. Exactly what they'd feared would happen.
He shook his head. No. He'd do the kill.
Shifting his shoulders to ease the tension, he wondered if he was getting too old for this life. He longed for a beach somewhere. The millions he'd stashed away would work for many years to come.
Just one more, he kept silently repeating. One more dead body, then he was free.
He could feel the sun on his face already. There'd be beautiful women to attend to him. There were no virgins waiting in heaven for him and he was fine with that. He wanted his reward in this life.
He rubbed a hand down his face. The door to the beer trailer opened.
His mark stepped out.
Time to put on his concerned face.
Sweat poured out of every part of Mallory's body. Each drop amplified the adrenaline racing through her system.
Two wires down. Two more to go...but which two?
She thought back to all the bombs she'd defused. This is no different. You're in the zone, Mallory. No questions. Just...do it.
With a held breath, she snipped the last wire. The timer stopped.
Nothing exploded.
She dropped most of her tools and released her breath. The bomb wouldn't blow.
Opening the door to the cooler, the humid New Jersey air hit her in the face. She smelled herself and she was sure she must have warmed all the beer with her body heat.
She gave a small smile and a wave to the crowd peering out the bay doors. This must be how astronauts feel after they splash down in the ocean. Ragged but relieved.
The bomb wouldn't blow.
Her rubbery legs complained at the task of carrying her across the parking lot, away from what weighed on her mind. I've been sucked back into my former life.
She walked past the bomb squad. "All clear."
"You don't mind if I check, do you?" a man dressed in a bomb suit asked.
She shrugged. "Not at all." She handed him her cutters and trudged to the firehouse. The door to the bay opened as she approached.
Jesse's gaze met hers and his eyes held many questions.
None she could answer. "Not tonight. I'll talk tomorrow."
His expression softened and her heart broke. I'm not the person you think you know. I'm not at all who I said I was.
Her arms didn't move. She stood gasping humid July air.
"Can I at least drive you home?"
Some part of her wanted that, to pass on some of the responsibility, to just lie in someone's arms for a few hours and pretend.
The person she used to be wouldn't let her rely on anyone. "No," came out of her mouth before she could decide. She smiled at him. "I'll be fine, Jesse. I just want to be alone."
"Wait."
He pulled her into his arms and whispered in her ear. "Thanks."
At that, she turned away from him. The bay door closed behind her. The hum of it sounded like a school bell to change classes. I'm not changing classes though...I'm changing lives.
It seemed the parking lot had lengthened since she arrived that morning. Each step took herculean effort and for a moment, her vision closed to a pinpoint as if someone had turned off an old television.
One thing she knew was life is short. Her search for her birth parents couldn't wait until after the fair.
Her body dropped into the car seat as she caught her breath. She closed the door a moment later.
Before she could start her car, a hand covered her mouth.
CHAPTER 2
Mallory bit down, then yanked at the arm. Her meager strength came from another rush of adrenaline.
"Whoa, Mallory. It's just me."
The familiar voice froze her before she could do any damage. Oh, crap. As if my day hadn't tanked already.
One by one, she uncurled her fingers from around his wrist. Her shaking hands grasped the steering wheel, knuckles white.
If she had a list of people she never wanted to see again, his name would be at the top. Why here? Why now? This is the last thing I need.
She steadied her breath and scanned the parking lot. No one stirred or walked to their car. I can't be seen with him.
"Don't turn around. Just drive. I'll be hunkered down in the back."
She started the car and drove home. Her knuckles remained white. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"I think you know."
Of course. "The bomb in our trailer?"
Emotions roiled her stomach. She'd have to stock up on antacids if Trey was back in her life. And she had just been thinking how nutty this week of fair preparations had been. Now it all looked so easy.
Her thoughts shifted to the events of the evening. Who could have the bomb? It wasn't a prank if this guy's here. This was bigger than all of Coleville, Centre County.
She pulled in front of her house, a two-story Cape Cod set down a long driveway.
"We're here and no one can see you from the road," she said.
She got out of the car, leaving her guest to follow.
She had a date with a shower and her bed.
Alone.
Whatever he had to say could wait until she wasn't in an adrenaline hangover.
Maybe the earth would swallow him before he entered her house. She snorted, her gaze searching the sky for flying pigs.
As she unlocked the door she felt, more than heard him, behind her. A whole host of emotions flooded her, robbed her of breath.
"There's some microwave popcorn in the cabinet. I'm taking a shower."
"Ah, you remembered," he said, his voice gravelly.
She whirled to look at him for the first time. He leaned on the door, his look as wild and dangerous as always. Worn black jeans hugged all the right parts and his black T-shirt did the same. His craggy face sported his usual five o'clock shadow. No matter when he'd shaved, that beard always showed.
She hated herself for remembering that detail…and how that beard felt against her most sensitive parts.
His dark gaze held hers like a vise.
"I eat it too." The sentence sounded lame. She shrugged. "I'm taking a shower."
Booth stood outside Mallory's house and just inside the shadows. If she'd looked out, she wouldn't have seen him. No streetlights in this part of town.
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