Title:  Who We Once Were - Chapter Eleven - Approaching Revelations
Rating:  PG13
Author:  Nine - http://www.oocities.org/ninthsaturn
Summary:  Alternate universe where TMR didn't take place.  Evy's having strange dreams and returns to Egypt and runs into an old friend.

Anyone save that frisbee from a few chapters back? ;-)  I was curious, if I decided to, would a story written around the dream sequences in this one be interesting?  One about the whole Ankhwa/Nef/Im/Ram incident?  hehehe.  Just curious!  Thanks a bunch, reviewers!  You are the lifeblood of this long story....well, long for me.  Hehe.


**

Evelyn sat against the wall, watching as Imhotep tied Rick down to keep him out of trouble.  Her friend didn't take very kindly to the idea but had settled down when Imhotep back handed him a few times.  Rick scowled as the creature stood up and retreated to the other side of the room to pace and brood.  They hadn't found the book and to their fear it appeared Rameses had it.  "He's in a greeaaat mood," Rick commented sourly.

Evy sighed and rubbed her hands together.  "Rameses could make him mortal again.  I'm sure he's worried about that as well as the fact that Rameses is likely to take over great armies of the dead."

Rick frowned.  "Who's to say that Rameses killing off Imhotep is a bad idea?  After we get him out of the way we could find a way to take care of Rameses.  Maybe there's something you could chant that could get him out of Jonathan."

Evy shrugged.  "I hope so, Rick."  She sighed, praying that were the case.  No more Jonathan?  No...no that couldn't be right, could it?  Her heart ached at the thought of her adventuring and light hearted brother being forever gone.  She didn't want to think of that possibility now.

"Hey," Rick said softly as he watched her.  She turned to look at him.  His eyes were concerned and questioning.  "Evy, I gotta know something."

Evy steeled herself.  This was going to have to surface some time she supposed.  Swallowing, she told him, "Go on."

The ex-Legionarre scratched his thigh and looked away, his eyes distant as if he were afraid to mention what was on his mind.  "Did Imhotep...did he and you..."  He met her eyes.  "Did you give yourself to him last night?  If you don't want to talk about it you don't have to.  I would just like to know."

She wrapped her arms around her knees and pondered how to answer him.  "Well," she began.

He didn't give her time to finish.  "I'll kill him.  I'll find some way of making him suffer, Evy."

She pursed her lips.  "Rick, I chose to do it.  I had my reasons for it and I was the one who chose to do what we did.  It's not as bad as it seems."

Rick shook his head firmly.  "No, Evy.  It is as bad as it seems.  You would never have done anything like that without being pressured or threatened in some way, even in some subtle way.  I'll kill that son of a...he'll pay and...and I know Ardeth'll want to have some words with him too!"  He shut his mouth and fumed silently for a moment.

Evy sighed and let it go at that.  She only hoped that he wouldn't go and get himself killed over this.  He and Ardeth.  A part of her was thankful Jonathan was taken by Rameses because it kept him safe, or had until Rameses decided to go against Imhotep.  Now who knew what would happen? There was a whole world out that was oblivious to the danger that was stirring here in Egypt.  She didn't know what powers Rameses might have, but with armies of the dead behind him did it really matter if he could best Imhotep one to one?  She didn't even know how they could stop Rameses.  He wasn't undead as Imhotep was.

Though she'd never dream of admitting it to Rick or even Ardeth, she believed Imhotep to be the lesser of two evils.  At least they knew how to combat him.  Sure, they could kill Rameses assuming that he was mortal, but how could they ever hope to get to him with armies surrounding him? They had to find the Book of Amun Ra and keep him from being able to destroy Imhotep.  She rubbed at her temples and licked her lips, trying to get her mind off of the coming doom for a least a little while.  "My Nefertiri," Imhotep said quietly, moving to stand above her.  He crouched and touched her cheek.  She heard Rick exhale sharply.  "Do not worry over these things.  They are for me to contend with, not you."

She smiled despite the tears welling up.  It was all so simple to him.  He didn't seem to conceive of the many reasons she had to worry or be upset. Nevertheless, she nodded.  "I won't," she lied.

Imhotep sighed and stood, leaving the room and fetching a rope.  When he returned he helped her stand and took her to the column and tied her to it.  "Things will be as they will be, Nefertiri.  I will not let Rameses win.  He will not steal my destiny from me.  In time you will understand and even trust me."  When she was secure he turned away and left the underground city in a swirl of his black robe.

Evy watched him, mouth open, and when he was gone she did what had been a long time in coming, what she'd been trying to stop.  She cried.  "What did that monster say to you?" Rick asked, concern and anger echoing through his voice.

Sniffling, Evy leaned against the column and closed her eyes.  In a quivering voice she answered, "He told me not to worry."

"Not worry?" Rick repeated at an obvious loss as to why that made her so upset.

He didn't know the turmoil inside of her.  The conflicting feelings that churned around within and the looming worry and fear.  Evy swallowed and looked up to the hole in the ceiling, wishing that last night had never happened.  It had given her an insight into Imhotep that she desperately didn't want.  His soft words telling her she'd trust him and not to worry.  Oh how she longed to believe it.  She could easily believe it knowing him as she did now.  And yet she had to remember that there was another side to the priest.  A darkness that had all but destroyed that small light he'd accidentally let bleed through when they were in each other's arms.  She was certain that he hadn't meant to and perhaps fought it even now, but Imhotep had given a part of himself last night as she had.  Understanding that was near impossible and perhaps in the long run it wouldn't matter much.  Maybe he was lonely.  Maybe he'd imagined his Anck-su-namun.  She couldn't say but the few moments he'd allowed himself to forget the world around him had opened her eyes to who he may have been before all the pain had hardened his heart.  "When did things get so complicated?" she whispered.

Evy once against closed her eyes and let her tears stream freely.  She was so tired and before long lost herself to a fitful, dream filled sleep.

**

Evy looked at her reflection in the large mirror.  She looked at the make-up around her eyes, the richly decorated clothes Imhotep had had made for her.  On her hands were gold rings and her wrists and ankles were adorned with gold bracelets, priceless things that the priest gave her. Tucking her wavy hair behind her ears, she looked at the richly decorated room behind her.  Another gift of Imhotep.  This whole palace had been built in under three months by the tireless labor of thousands of undead slaves.  Imhotep's grand home.  Her home now.

Queen Nefertiri, Mother of the World and Beauty of the Night they called her.  Citizens of the countries Imhotep had taken over bowed on their knees when she passed.  Servant girls cowered in fear of displeasing her because that would displease the Great Pharaoh.  She could barely remember things before all this had happened.  And suddenly she wasn't alone.

Imhotep walked silently to her.  She turned and looked at him.  He wore white robes now, oddly reminiscent of his priestly attire yet signifying his almost divine rule.  He dropped to his knees before her and laid his head on her lap.  Evy swallowed and touched his cheek.  "The armies failed to find Rameses," he said quietly.  The two had battled for two years now, each owning half of this torn and shattered world.  "The General believes he has gone to a country across the ocean.  It is no secret he seeks to own the Americas before this year is over."

Two powerful men destroying the world in their fight.  Evy rubbed Imhotep's shoulder.  No one could honestly project who would win this war - if anyone.  Perhaps it would continue forever.  "Have we lost power in Canada?"

The king sighed, touching her leg softly.  "I do not know.  Contact has been lost."  He looked up and smiled at her.  "Nefertiri, I do not wish to think of these things right now.  I think on them day and night."  He rested his hand on her abdomen, something he did often.  She suspected he was remembering their first night together when he gestured so.  Retreating to bed always occurred after he did it.

Nefertiri placed her hand again on his cheek and bent down to kiss him.  She could taste need and desire on his mouth.  They jumped when the door opened.  "My King!" a young human said, one of the young messengers.

Imhotep got to his feet within seconds and gripped the boy's shirt.  "You will never enter a room when the Queen and I are alone!" he hissed angrily.

The young man winced in the angry priest's grip.  "I am truly sorry, my King.  I beg your forgiveness.  Sir, there is a message from Ardeth Bay."

Imhotep sternly gazed at the boy before letting him go and ripping the paper from his hand.  He opened it and read.  Whatever was in that letter, it made Imhotep very angry, Nefertiri could see.  Throwing the paper to the floor, he turned on the boy.  "You will reply to this message.  Tell him he's welcome to try.  Bring the message to me and I'll seal it."

"Yes, Great Pharaoh," the messenger said, bowing and scrambling to leave the room.

Nefertiri stood and leaned into Imhotep's back, resting her head against his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his waist.  "What did it say?"

She could feel him tense.  "He said Canada is now Rameses'.  He said he has found the Book of Ra and plans on using it.  Bay wishes to kill me and O'Connell.  Then he will take you away."

Nefertiri sighed softly, worried.  It scared her each time threats like this were sent.  Of course they never came to pass, but she couldn't stop herself from being afraid.  She placed a kiss on his shoulder, leaving her lipstick on his white robe and knowing he would try to be angry about it later.  Of course that never came to pass either.  He chuckled and she grinned.  "You did it again, didn't you, Nefertiri."

"You'll never stay angry," she dared him, walking around him and kissing him again...


...Ardeth Bay sat at his desk, rubbing his temples and trying to wish his ever present headache away.  It seemed there was never a moment he wasn't in some sort of pain.  Much of the world suffered the same way he expected.  He could hear cheering outside in the streets of Canada as Rameses made his speech.  It was the same, every country they wrestled from Imhotep.  Words of hatred towards the priest, of how they were no longer under his rule.  Little did they realize that they traded fire for fire.

Not that he hadn't done the same.  Traded his life and his mission to serve under Rameses.  But in return for aiding him in his battle the Med-Jai would be safe and once Evy was rescued from Imhotep she too would be safe.  Safe from the lies and deceit, safe from getting her heart broken by that monster.  Ardeth clenched his fist.

The door to his room opened and Ali came in, his war weary expression so different from the eager face Ardeth had remembered from so long ago.  "General O'Connell sends a message, Ardeth," he said, knowing that the message would only irritate the Chief.

Ardeth laughed much to Ali's alarm.  He sat back and closed his eyes.  "What does he want now?  Read it to me, Ali.  I cannot bear another eloquent message from him."

Ali took a deep breath, the breath that meant he was concerned about his leader, and began.  "Ardeth, you're fighting a losing battle.  You promised me that by the end of the year that the Americas will be yours.  Well, I promise you that before the end of the month you will be dead.  I hope someone mentioned to you that your generals in England have been killed."  Ali paused, no doubt seething inside at that - he had friends there.  "Look, Olld Friend, it's just a matter of time.  Imhotep wants you alive for trial in Egypt, but I will promise you this.  If I have to kill you I will.  I'm sure he won't mind too bad.  Especially after I give him England as a gift.  Be watching for me.  And it's signed, 'General Rick O'Connell.'" Ali crumpled the note and tossed it to the floor.  "Shall I make a response?"

Ardeth stayed quiet a moment, rubbing his brow softly.  "No, Ali," he sighed.  "Leave me."

Ali nodded respectfully and left the Chief alone.  Ardeth leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.  He almost wanted O'Connell to kill him sometimes.  Strange, the changes time had brought upon his life.  Fighting for a man he didn't trust against a man he despised for a woman who didn't love him anymore - if she ever did.  Was he mad?  He could laugh at the irony almost.  But that look in her eyes that night he'd tried to kidnap her.  She had to have some sort of feelings for him...that look haunted him.  Maybe it was wishful thinking.  And then there was Rick.  His friend long ago.  Ardeth had never dreamed Rick would side with Imhotep.  How could that have possibly ever happened?  How could Evy have chosen to be with this priest?  Times changed.  Enemies changed and friends changed.  And this battle would go on and on.

**

Ardeth sat up straight in the bed he'd been placed in and gasped at the contents of his dream, not to mention the pain that shot through his shoulder and the aching in his body.  "Something has changed," he whispered, looking to the man sitting in a chair beside the bed.  His Uncle Elihu.

"What are you speaking of, Ardeth?" he said in a flat tone.  He was a very direct man.

Ardeth laid back down and took a deep breath.  "Something has changed.  I'm not sure what...are the Med-Jai preparing?"

Elihu sat forward.  "I have Med-Jai groups patrolling our lands.  I have sent word to every tribe telling them to be on guard should an attack occur.  Young Ali did not have much information.  Tell me, Nephew, what's happening?  He Who Shall Not Be Named is going to raise our dead?"

"Yes," Ardeth replied, very confused by his dream and disoriented.  "He has the Book of the Dead and is going to use it to raise up our ancestors to battle against us."  He pushed back the blanket and pushed himself up.

"Ardeth?" Elihu eyed his nephew thoughtfully.  "No."

Shaking his head, Ardeth looked around and spotted his scimitar.  It was lucky he'd left one here in case it was needed.  "I've got to get out there."  He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, nearly falling to his knees in weakness.

Elihu got to his feet and helped Ardeth to sit again on the bed.  "Ardeth, you've lost quite a bit of blood, don't you think?  You're not leaving."

Grunting, Ardeth pushed at his uncle and tried to stand up.  "Evelyn needs me.  She's in grave danger."  He managed to get to his feet and started to slowly walk to where his weapon had been laid on a table.  He groaned, his thigh burning, and promptly fell onto the floor with a thud.

Elihu rolled his eyes and stood for a moment, watching.  "Are you ready to be sensible, Nephew?"

Ardeth didn't get up right away.  Instead he laid there on his stomach, contemplating what to do next that wouldn't make him look foolish.  "I don't believe so."

"Always the hero," his uncle lamented in that nearly monotone voice.  "Nothing wrong with being a hero, Ardeth, when you can do it."  He bent down to help Ardeth back up again.  "The Med-Jai out there are more than capable."

Finally Ardeth sat up with aid.  "Get my leg wrapped and put me on a horse.  I'll survive, Uncle."

Elihu shoved his very weak nephew onto the bed.  "I'll do nothing of the sort.  No fool nephew of mine is going to get himself killed by falling off his horse and dying in the desert because he's too weak to crawl back."  He looked at Ardeth's European style clothes.  "And you certainly aren't going to die wearing that."

Ardeth shook his head.  "I left some desert clothes here, Uncle.  Get them and get me to a horse.  I'll be fine.  I must get to Evelyn.  Something has changed."

"How do you know this?  Ardeth, what you are proposing isn't wise."  He stood up and went to a table to get a cloth for Ardeth's leg.

"Wise or not," the younger man said, taking the cloth and wrapping it around his injured thigh, "it is what I must do.  I cannot leave her alone at the mercy of the creature."

Elihu scowled at his nephew, knowing the battle had been lost.  "I don't like this, Ardeth.  You are as weak as a newborn babe.  What do you expect to do?"

"I don't know, Uncle.  Allah be with me, I don't know.  But I must get to her."  He licked his lips and winced as he tightened the cloth and tied it off. Ardeth felt an urgency within him.  If those dreams were any indication of the future, then it must be stopped.  He had seen a world torn in two by two armies of dead, unstoppable and untirable, lead by two ancient mad men who lusted to have the world as their own.  That was nearly more frightening than the first dream.  Ardeth waited as Elihu fetched some desert robes for him.

Elihu returned with black robes in his arms.  "Ardeth," he said, laying the battle clothing out on the bed.  "Please be careful.  Rest as you can.  I think this is unwise of you, my Nephew.  But you are a man now and I cannot stop you."

Ardeth nodded gravely.  "I will be careful."  As Elihu left him to his privacy, Ardeth eased off the bed and started to undress himself.  Unwise?  Perhaps, but he could not leave her to Imhotep.  Of course he had no way of knowing how far ahead in the future those dreams had taken place, but his face was still young in both of them, so the beginnings of both had to be happening now.  What he was grateful for were that these dreams that seemed to help him stay at least part way ahead.  Naturally he had enough sense to keep in mind that these could possibly not be foretellings of the future, but he had to try and prevent against it if it were.

Where was he going to go?  Back to Hamunaptra, he guessed would be the best bet.  But what to do about Imhotep...that question loomed throughout his worried thoughts.  He groaned, pulling his last article of clothing - his dark turban - onto his head, annoyed at the pain in his left shoulder from the slowly healing cut.  With some effort he managed to limp to his scimitar and leaned against the wall, wondering just what he was going to accomplish out there, weak and staggering about.  "Strength," he prayed softly.  "Give me strength for the coming battle."  Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself off the wall and headed towards the door.

The walk outside wasn't bad.  Slow and laborious, yes, but not as difficult as Elihu would have had him believe.  His uncle stood before a stallion, watching as Ardeth made his way and offered no help.  "You are intent on this?" he asked when Ardeth stopped before him.

Ardeth nodded.  "Yes, Uncle."  Elihu sighed and gripped Ardeth by the arms, pulling him to the horse and assisting him in the climb.  "Thank you," he said, giving his uncle the Med-Jai salute.

Elihu returned the gesture.  "Return to us, Ardeth.  If there is a war coming I want you to fight then, not against your own body alone out there."  He nodded towards the vast sands and tied another canteen onto Ardeth's saddle.

"I will return," Ardeth replied, confident in his choice.  His eyes looked over the home of his uncle, then the homes of his people before resting finally on the path that lay ahead.  Wordlessly he urged the horse into the desert and began for Hamunaptra, intent on finding Evy if he could.  Perhaps this was a fools mission, but he was quickly learning just how far those feelings inside would push him, just how deeply they had rooted.

Ardeth gazed out across the night sky and prayed for safety and strength, not only for himself but for her.  I'm coming, Evelyn.

**

The breeze that traveled across the sand dunes was chilled and soft.  A whirlwind made it's way through the darkness to the Valley of the Kings and abruptly dissipated upon a ridge that overlooked the site.  Imhotep materialized and walked forth slowly, careful to conceal himself within the shadows.  His dark eyes looked over the Valley and watched as restless soldiers of long dead Med-Jai gathered themselves together, putting limbs together, searching for weapons.

So, Rameses had done it.  He'd managed to steal the army from Imhotep before he could even raise them for his own use.  Two could play at that game.  Imhotep walked around the ridge, searching for Rameses.  Did he not realize Imhotep's power?  Rameses was dealing with an undead foe and the only thing that could stop him was the Book of Amun Ra.

And of course that was the only danger here.  Imhotep could stroll down there and take the Book of the Dead away from Rameses, but if he had the Gold Book on him then Imhotep would be risking his life.  The priest hissed in contempt when his eyes found Rameses on a smaller ridge, climbing down into the masses of his troops.  Rameses began speaking with some of the dead, no doubt about the coming battle.  He didn't hold the Black Book with him, Imhotep noted.  He crouched down and looked around the ridge Rameses had been standing on.  Sure enough the Black Book rested there.  There was no sign of the Book of Amun Ra.

Imhotep decided to play it safe.  Until he was positive that Rameses didn't have the Gold Book, then it was logical to act as if he did.  Besides, barging into the middle of that army and starting the war now was the last thing Imhotep wanted.  He needed time to prepare his own army.  While he could likely end up winning a hand to hand battle against these dead Med-Jai, it would take too much time...time Rameses could use to raise another army elsewhere or find the book if he indeed didn't have it.

So he decided to enter quietly.  Imhotep concentrated and began to lose his form, his body from toes to head slowly turning into sand.  Winds of Imhotep's power pushed the grains down the ridge and into the sand at the floor of the Valley.  The creature sunk beneath the sand and traveled beneath the army and to the place Rameses had left the book.  In a funnel of sand he materialized and took the book into his hands.

Imhotep then disappeared again, traveling in a breeze, unseen or at least unstopped.  He carried the book away from the Valley of the Kings and back towards Hamunaptra, intent that tonight he and Nefertiri would leave the City of the Dead.

**

Ardeth laid in the sand by the fire, grateful to be off his horse.  About an hour into his journey Ardeth had made the decision that he wasn't going to be fit to travel into the night and so went about another hour before making camp.  Now he lay by the fire, gazing at the stars and wondering if this was the last night he'd be able to do so before Imhotep and Rameses began to fight.  Ardeth tiredly sat up and took a hold of a canteen, raising it to his lips and drinking.  He was going to need all the nutrition he could get to strengthen if he were going to do Evy any good.  He whipped his head around at the sound of footsteps.  "Hello.  Fancy meeting you here," Rameses said, approaching slowly.

Ardeth grabbed his scimitar and held it up.  "What do you want?"

Rameses laughed and sat down not far.  "You could barely take me on when you were fit.  Now look at you, weak and tired, trying to defend against me.  Trust me, if I had wanted to kill you then you would already be dead."

He couldn't argue with that unfortunately.  Ardeth lowered his weapon and took another drink.  "So, what do you come for then?  My guess is you and Imhotep have had a disagreement?"

Betrayer looked decidedly peevish.  "That bloody priest stole the Book of the Dead right behind my back."

Ardeth grunted.  "Not surprising.

"Yes," Rameses agreed testily.  "Anyway, how did you know things weren't exactly happy between me and Imhotep?"  He eyed Ardeth quizzically.

The Med-Jai shrugged.  "I had a dream last night of you and Imhotep fighting in a great war.  A world war."

This surprised Rameses and he raised his eyebrows.  "Interesting.  Visions of the future.  I could use someone with that talent."  The Betrayer grabbed a nearby stick and started stirring the fire absently.  "Well, yes.  You were correct.  Imhotep left me to watch Rick and the Book and I decided that I didn't really want to settle for second best.  So I took the Black Book and left for the Valley of the Kings."  He smirked at Ardeth's wide eyes.  "Yes, my friend.  I have raised the dead Med-Jai and all the dead kings of the past.  My army prepares to march on Hamunaptra soon, but as I said, Imhotep has the Black Book now.  I'm not sure when he stole it.  Sometime within the last two hours, but I'm certain it was him.  Only he could have slipped past my army."

Ardeth rubbed at his right shoulder and exhaled.  "And what does this have to do with me, Betrayer?  What do you seek from me?" he asked, already suspecting the answer.

Rameses eyes glinted as he smiled.  Ardeth pulled back when Rameses started moving towards him, but couldn't get away fast enough.  Gripping his wrists, Rameses began chanting and Ardeth felt his body begin to tingle and itch.  What frightened him was the possibility that this was it, that he would die here and not be able to help Evelyn.  Suddenly a wave of exhaustion worse than the tiredness of before swept across him and all he could do was sit there and let whatever Rameses was doing to happen.  He could feel the wounds in his shoulder and leg begin to burn and he grit his teeth against the pain.  Countless minutes later Rameses let him slump to the earth below as he caught his own breath.  "Consider it a gift," the Betrayed wheezed, running an arm over his brow.

Ardeth lay there a moment, trying to assimilate everything that had just occurred.  Groaning, he pushed himself up and the first thing he noted was the tiredness.  He could sleep for days it felt like.  He ran his hand over his leg, puzzling at the burning sensation he'd felt and was surprised when it didn't sting or ache when touched.  "You healed me?" he asked, looking up.

Rameses nodded.  "Like I said, Ardeth.  Consider it a gift.  The only gift you'll ever receive from me if you decide to go against me."   He looked pale and just as tired as Ardeth felt.  "I've come to make you an offer, Old Boy."

So this was it.  This was the moment of decision that could lead his people into serving Rameses.  Still, he would listen.  "Go on."

Rameses was pleased with Ardeth's willingness to at least hear him out.  "I'm going against Imhotep, as you know, and naturally this fight is going to go beyond the dead fighting the dead.  I imagine at some point as you said in your dream, that this is going to involve the world and eventually this world is going to have to choose sides.  I want you to make that choice a little bit earlier than the world, Ardeth."  He sighed and looked up at the sky.  "You don't want to side with Imhotep, my friend.  He's ruthless and evil."

Ardeth had to laugh at that.  "Ruthless and evil?  Is that not what you pride your own self on?  Just a day ago you told of how Imhotep had a heart and held back even when he did not wish to and yet now he's worse than you?"

Betrayed grinned.  "Of course I'm ruthless and evil.  But the difference is I'm not blinded by revenge.  This world is going to fall under the power of either I or Imhotep.  Would you rather fight on the side of a man who has reason to hate you or..."

Ardeth didn't give him a chance to finish.  "Or a man that kills without reason other than the pleasure it brings?"

Nodding his head thoughtfully, Rameses watched Ardeth.  "I wouldn't kill my allies," he said finally.  "My pleasure comes from killing those that mean nothing to me...or those that are against me."  He stood up.  "So you would fight for Imhotep, huh?  It will come to a point where you will have to choose a loyalty, Ardeth.  Make no mistake about that.  You just remember what Imhotep has done when that time arrives.  You would run off and rescue that sister of mine, that woman who last night bedded Imhotep and likely sleeps with him now."  Rameses paused then, waiting for a reaction.  Ardeth gave none save to look down at the sands below.  "Yes, Ardeth Bay.  She gave herself to him.  Willingly.  It seems betrayal runs in the family."

The Med-Jai Chief's eyes flashed.  "She would not have done so if she were given any kind of choice.  What did she buy with her innocence, Rameses?  O'Connell's freedom?"

Rameses shook his head.  "O'Connell was sound asleep and safe when she came and told Imhotep not to raise the Med-Jai that night."

Ardeth nodded.  "So time was what she bought."  He clenched his fist and glared at Rameses, fighting the rage that stirred within.

"Yes, that's what she was buying," Betrayer confessed, frowning.  "Imhotep explained to her that one night would mean nothing and asked her if she still wanted him to stay and she agreed."  He shrugged.  "I don't know what happened later.  That's when I took the opportunity to leave.  So, will you still fight for Imhotep when the time comes?  Don't answer right now, Ardeth.  I want you to think long and hard on this.  If you decide to join me bring to me the Book of the Dead.  Until then think about what I've said."  Rameses turned and left, soon disappearing into the darkness to where Ardeth couldn't fathom.

He frowned, looking into the fire.  So many emotions and thoughts were swirling around in him right now that he barely knew what to do with himself.  Laying back, Ardeth closed his eyes and tried to push his thoughts at bay for a while.  He needed to rest his weary body and his weary mind.  But he simply couldn't forget what Rameses had told him.  Oh, Evelyn, he thought sadly as he opened his eyes once more to gaze at the stars.  What am I going to do?