I apologize for the delays,

A week later, only one of the soldiers returned. His dying words were that he brought a message from the bandit king. His death-slackened hands lost hold of his burden, and out of the bloodstained bundle he carried rolled the severed head of the ambassador.

–

Mery stirred, her feet shifting the sand that had drifted into the tiny cave where she’d hidden herself from the sun. She started to sit up, but stopped when she felt something crawling on her arm. What is it? She fought the urge to move, to try and shake the creature out from under the sleeve of her tunara. Mery closed her eyes and took a calming breath. Creature of the shifting sands, return to your home. This traveler walks in peace and harmony.

A heartbeat passed, then two. Mery felt the creature stop. It turned around and it’s legs prickled down her skin as it meandered down her arm and emerged from under her sleeve. Dear Goddess, it’s scortalon. The light of the setting sun bathed the insect’s purple-hued carapace as it skittered along the wall across the cave floor.

It came to a sudden stop and remained motionless, it’s long, wicked stinger held high over its head. A moment later, a small sandmouse scampered out from its tiny hole. The mouse carried a seed of some kind from its burrow and now munched on it.

As Mery watched, the scortalon crept slowly towards the sandmouse, moving just one leg at a time. All the while, the mouse continued to eat, unaware of its impending danger. When the insect was less than an inch away, it struck. Its stinger pierced the side of the mouse once, and then again. The mouse let out a little shriek and tried to run, but it was too late.

It managed to scramble a few steps before it fell to the ground, paralyzed. Mery could see the terror in its eyes, and she looked away. Just like Tenef’s eyes. You passed through the Gate fifteen years ago, and I still miss you. She caught the tears rolling down her cheeks and licked them off her fingers. Forgive me, my friend, but I cannot afford tears this day.

She looked back at where the mouse had fallen, and saw the scortalon was dragging it towards the mouse’s burrow. Mery waited and watched, and the moment the scortalon disappeared from sight, she gathered up her meager belongings and slipped out of the cave.

The sky was streaked with gold, crimson and orange that faded into the deep, dark of night. The brightest of stars twinkled like little diamonds set in Mershema’s shawl. Mery looked up, her eyes seeking out the familiar constellations above. The Myran, guardian of the desert. Beneath your right paw is the Eye of Rahest. It will guide me to the oasis. With Basret’s blessing, I will reach it by morning. She drew her veil across her face, adjusted her bundle, and set out across the desert.

—-

The sun was a hand over the horizon when Mery finally spotted it. The oasis, thank Basret. Soon I’ll be in the shade, and refilling my empty waterskin. But what do I tell them if they ask why I arrive on foot? Despite her worries, and her aching back and legs, her pace quickened.

She spotted a rider leaving the oasis, heading in her direction. Who is that? Did they see me? They have never sent out riders to meet someone approaching the oasis before. Mery continued to walk towards the mass of green in the midst of the sand. When the rider got closer, she realized it was Nadim, and she lowered her veil.

“Sujah Meryetnebi! The gods are surely smiling on us today.” He pulled up his horse and came to a stop next to her. “Please, take my place, and come with me to the camp.” The man slid out of the saddle and onto the sand.

“Thank you,” Mery said, sighing in relief. She handed Nadim her bundle, and mounted the horse.

He tied the bundle to the saddle, and too the reins of the horse. He started to run towards the oasis, leading the horse behind him.

Their arrival in the camp started a flurry of activity such as she’d never seen before. Alim, Nadim’s father and leader of the nomads, rushed to her side and helped her down off the horse. “Welcome, welcome,” he said, and escorted Mery to his tent. One of his wives offered her a cup of water and fresh fruit, but Meryetnebi could sense an underlying anxiousness.

She accepted the cup and drained it slowly. “Thank you,” she said, bowing her head and gesturing her thanks. “Many blessings upon you and your family,” Meryetnebi said, and then looked at Alim. “Are you in need of my help?”

The man nodded vigorously. “Two of the children were playing and they fell from the wall.” He pointed at the ruins of the only permanent building at the oasis, a large, low building made of mud bricks. “We don’t know when it happened, but they were found a few hours ago. One is unconscious; the other drifts in and out, and mutters words we cannot understand.”

Mery set the cup down and stood. “Take me to them.”

Alim led her to a tent on the other side of the camp, stopping only to retrieve her belongings from Nadim. There was a woman walking out of it, and when she saw Mery, she raced over and flung herself at Mery’s feet.

“Please, Sujah, save my children,” the woman sobbed. “I’ll do anything. Pay anything.” It took a moment for Mery to recognize the woman.

“Adarah,” Mery said, taking the woman’s hands and urging her to her feet. “I am here and I will do what I can.” Mery walked past Adarah and into the tent. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she saw two small forms lying on the rope-slung bed.

She knelt down next to the children and touched their faces with a gentle hand. I am here now, little ones. Keelah and Mareen, you are both known to Basret. If your path does not lie through the Gate, then with Basret’s blessing, I will bring you back to your mother.

Mery stroked Keelah’s forehead, smoothing the girl’s dark hair back. She gently ran her fingers lightly over the girl’s head, feeling for bumps, being careful not to move Keelah’s. Mery found one at the back of the girl’s skull. A bad blow to the head, probably from when she fell. Now to check how much damage has been done. “Baset, Meryetnebi sujahet seneb saht,” she whispered, her eyes closed. Basret, grant me the knowledge to heal this child.

An image slowly formed in Mery’s mind of her standing on a vast white plain, marred by a series of fire-lined cracks. Sweet smelling, pale green liquid flowed from her hands, turning into a paste that covered and seeped and into the cracks, putting out the fire. Slowly, the damage disappeared, becoming an unmarked white expanse once more. A broken skull, and an infection? The liquid. It looked and smelled like suncatcher flower tea and… dedaemah root? Yes, that must be it. Suncatcher flowers help with infection, and dedaemah root helps heal bones.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, changing the focus from her vision back to the world around her. Mery opened her eyes to see Adarah kneeling, her face a mask of anxiety. “Keelah will be fine. She needs time to heal, and I will make a poultice to apply to the injury, and show you how to apply it.”

Adarah’s face brightened, and Mery could see the hope returning to her eyes. “Mareen? Can you help Mareen?”

“I will try.” Mery moved around to the other side of the bed. Mareen’s face was covered with a light sheen of sweat, and her skin was hot. At Mery’s touch, the girl’s head turned and she started to murmur in a low, breathy voice. Mery leaned in closer to try and hear what the girl was saying.

“…green…sound…ruined path…” Mareen sighed, and fell silent once more.

Mery sat back on her heels and folded her hands in front of her. What does that mean? A ruined path? There is nothing like that around the oasis. She shrugged, and knelt next to the bed. Basret, Mery prayed, what ails this child?

Her mind’s eye was assaulted by the devastation in the scene before her. The landscape of Mareen’s mind was rent and sundered, with a thick, glistening black slime coated most of the ground. In the middle of it all, Mery could see a child-like form, trapped beneath the slime, struggling to get free.

Mery’s mental self took a step forward, reaching out a hand to try and help. The slime reared up and struck at her, trying to pull her down and draw her under. She struck back, calling upon the cleansing flame of Basret’s warrior guise and sent it at the viscous black slime. It recoiled, and ear shattering shriek filled Mery’s mind as the vision abruptly ended.

“Sujah, what happened?”

Mery forced her eyes open to see Alim and Adarah kneeling over her. Alim helped her sit up. “Are you alright, Sujah?” he asked.

She nodded. “I’ll be alright.” Mery reached for Adarah’s hand. “I know what is plaguing Mareen. Before I can help her, I will tell you how to make the poultice for Keelah. Take enough suncatcher flower petals to make two pots of tea and put them in a grinding bowl. Get a piece of dedaema root the thickness and length of your thumb. Peel it, then chop it fine and put it in the grinding bowl with the petals. Grind the two things together until you create a thick paste. Add enough warm water to make the paste the consistency of three day old yula bean soup. Put half of the mixture into a fine cloth bag, and apply it to the bump on the back of Keelah’s head.

“You will need to cut Keelah’s hair down to her scalp around the bump, to make a bare spot this big,” Mery said, making a circle with her thumb and index finger. “It must be applied directly to the skin for it to work properly.”

“Yes, Sujah, it will be done as you command.” Adarah ducked her head and scurried out of the tent.

“What is wrong with Mareen?” Alim asked. In the shaft of light from the tent entrance, Mery could see the deep, dark circles under his eyes, and the pronounced worry lines.

“Something has taken her mind.” As Mery said the words, she heard Nefermewet’s voice, chiding her for telling him, for sharing the “secrets” of their visions. But now, as then, she ignored it. “I will do my best to free her, but it will take time.”

“Of course, Sujah.” Alim stood. “Word of your presence here will be all over the camp by now. I will have Nadim stand outside, and let only Adarah into the tent, until you say otherwise.”

“Thank you.” Mery lifted her hand and sketched out a blessing upon him before he left the tent. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I do not know who did this to you, Mareen, but I will fight it and drive it from your mind. She scooped a small amount of water out of the bowl next to the bed and patted her face with her damp hands.

Mery stood and moved around to the head of the bed and placed a hand on either side of Mareen’s head. She took another deep breath, and as she released it, closed her eyes and opened her mind.

Once again she stood in the ravaged wasteland that was Mareen’s mind, but this time, she was clad in brilliant bronze armor, a leather shield on her left arm. In her right hand was a scetar with a blade of flames. The black slime recoiled and folded into itself, growing bigger with each wave, until a man-sized figure stood before her.

“You are too late. The girl is mine.”

“Release her, and return from whence you came, or I shall destroy you.” Mery stood tall, her chin raised in defiance.

Its laugh clung to Mery’s ears like pitch. “You cannot defeat me. I shall claim you as I have the girl, and you will taste so sweet…”

“I don’t think so!” Mery lifted her sword and charged. It moved out of the way of her scetar with fluid ease, and slashed at her. She hissed as she felt the sting of its claws along her forearm. She attacked again, and it caught her down-swinging arm.

“You cannot defeat me,” it said, and started to twist her arm until she cried out in pain and dropped the sword.

“I already have,” she ground out through clenched teeth. A moment later, Mery heard a whoosh and a pop, and flames exploded around her.

The creature screamed and backed away. Tongues of fire licked their way up its legs and fanned out from the flame-kissed sword until the entire landscape was burning. “This is not the end, Meryetnebi! You cannot win!” it yelled before it was consumed by the inferno.

Flames washed over Mery, and with a jolt, she found herself back in her own body. Her face and hands stung and her forearm throbbed. She opened her eyes and all she saw was darkness. What? Why can’t I see?

Mery tried to stand, but her legs suddenly were afire and could not support her. “What…?”

“Sujah! You have returned to us!” Alim’s voice was heavy with concern, and a light flared into being.

“How long?” Mery asked, her mouth so dry it was hard to talk.

“Long past sunset, Sujah,” he said as Adarah rushed past him to her daughter’s side. “The krenna bird has long gone to nest to sleep.”

“Mareen!” Adarah cried out in joy. “Alim! Her fever has broken, and she sleeps peacefully.” She threw herself to the ground before Mery, prostrating herself in deep obeisance. “Sujah, you have saved my daughter. I do not have much, but it is all yours. My life is yours for saving my children.”

“No, Adarah,” Mery said, shaking her head. “Your children need you. All I ask of you is a place to sleep before I move on.”

“Of course, Sujah. I will go prepare it immediately.” Adarah pressed her forehead to the ground, then stood. She gave both Keela and Mareen quick kisses on the head, then fled the tent.

Alim watched her go with a smile of relief on his face. “Please,” he said, extending his hand to Mery. “Accompany me to my tent. There is food and drink waiting for you there.”

“Thank you.” Mery took his hand and stood, wincing as the circulation returned to her legs. He looked at her arm and his eyes widened.

“Your arm? How did that happen?” he asked.

Mery frowned, and looked at her arm to see claw marks on her arm. “Injuries taken when the mind fights are reflected in the body left behind. A simple cleaning of the scratches and I will be fine.”

Alim opened his mouth as if to protest, but nodded instead. “Yes, Sujah.”

Nadim still stood guard outside the tent, and the two men helped Mery walk across the camp back to his tent. He was opening the tent flap for her when the sentries called out that a rider approached.

“It is Bedir!” cried out one of the sentries. Groggy nomads stumbled out of their tents.

“Is he alone?” Alim asked.

“I cannot see… Yes, he is alone,” came the reply.

Alim frowned. “Where are the others?”

“He’s injured!”

“Go help him!” Alim yelled. “Bring him to me!”

Two of the sentries, dressed in dark, flowing tunaras, walked alongside the horse. Bedir was slumped forward in the saddle. “Alim, we were…” He collapsed, but one of the sentries caught him before he hit the ground. The dark stained bundle he carried in his lap fell to the ground and spilled open.

They never returned.

–

Khalid Bey was dying.

As his blood slowly seeped into the sand, the weak wind brought the sound of his men’s slaughter to his ears. The black and green robed strangers they had tracked to Hamarna were far greater in number, and far better armed, than the Nekhew were prepared for. They were ambushed at the base of the cliffs near the City of the Dead.

He had failed. The strangers would get the artifact that could open a path to the Underworld and allow those sent there to return to the land of the living. He would die with his men. If the wound in his side did not kill him, the poison coursing in his veins surely would.

There was a growl, and Khalid forced himself to turn his head. A myran, twice as large as any he’d seen before, stalked up the dune towards him. “I am finished,” he thought, and began the prayer for the dying.

The myran crept to where Khalid lay and dragged him away….

–

“Where on earth has he been all this time?” The woman’s voice was nearby, and as he came to awareness, Khalid realized he recognized it.

“I don’t know, but someone took good care of him. I’ve never seen wounds dressed wounds this well.”

Khalid cracked his eyes open to see his cousin Marrec squatting next to him. “Where am I?”

“You’re awake!” Ynare’s face was an image of relief. “You’re at the Oasis of Miradjer. One of the shepherds found you just outside our camp at sunrise this morning.”

“But how…” Khalid tried to remember what had happened, but his last memory was the giant myran’s fangs biting into the tangle of his clothes and dragging him across the sand.

“We don’t know,” Marrec said. “There were no tracks in the sand to or from where you were found. It’s like you just appeared out of thin air.”

“Khalid, you’ve been missing for almost two weeks.” Ynare picked up a cup filled with water from the low table and brought it over to the injured man. “What happened? Where have you been?”

“I’m afraid I don’t remember what happened,” Khalid said as he took a sip of water. “The last thing I remember was the battle.” His face darkened as he remembered his failure.

“Nothing at all?” Marrec asked.

Khalid shook his head. There were things teasing at the edge of his memory, but whenever he tried to focus on them, they’d fade. “I must return to my people,” he said and struggled to sit up.

“Stay where you are,” Ynare said with a frown. “Until you’re strong enough to travel, you’re staying here with us.” She held up a warning finger. “No arguments.”

Khalid knew how stubborn Ynare could be, and one look at Marrec told him his friend agreed with her. “Very well.” He lowered himself back onto the bed, but suppressed a sigh of relief. Moving, he decided, wasn’t the best thing to do right now.

“How are you doing?” Marrec asked.

“Surprisingly well.” Khalid looked down at his torso. “And I wonder if I should be worried. It was a serious wound to my side, and it was poisoned.” He touched the bandages. “I feel no pain. No pain at all.”

“I think we should take a look at it, just to be sure there’s nothing wrong.” Ynare retrieved the first aid kit. Marrec helped Khalid into a sitting position.

She slowly began to unwrap the bandages, and two layers in she stopped in surprise as something small fell into Khalid’s lap. “What’s it?”

He picked it up and looked at it closely. “It is a tiny amulet,” he said. “Do you see here? It is an incantation in hieroglyphics to ward off infection.” He handed it to Ynare.

“Goodness,” she said, showing it to Marrec. “Look at the workmanship. It’s exquisite.”

“Didn’t the Ancients put amulets in the wrappings of mummies?” Marrec asked.

“Yes,” Ynare said, “but there’s never been any evidence of them using amulets when binding wounds.”

They continued to remove the bandages and found thirteen more amulets, in shapes and inscribed with symbols to promote healing. When the last of the bandages were off, and Ynare took off the poultice covering the wound, all the trio could do was stare.

“What on earth?” Ynare looked more closely at the injury. It had been neatly closed with tiny stitches, so small there would be hardly any scar. “Are you sure this wound is only two weeks old? It’s almost completely healed.”

“I can’t explain it.” Khalid shook his head. “I don’t remember anything of when I was missing.”

“Give it time,” Marrec said, putting a hand on Khalid’s shoulder. “It’ll come back.”

Khalid chafed at the forced inactivity during the day. His strength had returned over the past two days, and he was eager to return to his people. But, he had promised Marrec and Ynare he would wait one more day before leaving.

While his days were long and restless, his nights were turbulent. His friends asked him what was wrong, but he denied there were any problems. What should I say to them? That my dreams are haunted by a warm body holding me as I shook with fever, by strange and exotic scents, a woman singing, and a pair of blue eyes rimmed with dark kohl? No, they will think I am insane.

Khalid was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of screams and fighting.

Meryetnebi looked at the three elders sitting in judgment upon the dais high above her. She was not surprised they had taken this opportunity to remind her she was there only on their sufferance. She was an orphan, given to the temple, with no blood family here. Meryetnebi was alone. “Are we not bound to help those we see in our goddess-sent visions? The Laws are to protect the Gate and this temple, not to prevent us from doing our duty.”

“Yes, your alleged visions.” Nefermewet sat stiffly, holding the High Priestess’ scepter as if she wanted to strike out with it. “At best, they were a misinterpretation. At worst, they were a complete fabrication.”

“Meryetnebi is one of our most gifted Seers.” A man’s voice filled the room. “I doubt she would lie about any vision Basret sent her.”

Mery was surprised Pamose had stood and spoken for her. He had been kind to her in the past, but she had never considered him a friend or ally.

“She may have been blessed by our goddess,” Nefermewet said, “but the visions she claimed to have had about the outsider were incomplete, to say the least. Nor could any of what she said she saw could be confirmed.”

“I did not lie.” Meryetnebi fought to control her temper and remain calm.

“Then explain it.” The High Priestess’ voice was cold and demanding. “Interpret it.”

“You know I have tried,” Meryetnebi said. “The images were jumbled, their meaning unclear. But there was something important about the man in my vision, and he needed help.”

“The Council of Elders did not agree. He was an outsider, a stranger. The Laws of Djeser are clear on this point. He is not one of us. He is of no importance to us.”

“We don’t know that!” Meryetnebi had long disagreed with the temple’s practice of isolation, but denying aid to the man who had been so prominent in her vision was not something she could do. Basret would never have sent her the vision if she were not meant to help him.

“So you do not deny you disobeyed the decree of your elders?”

Meryetnebi saw the look of triumph in Nefermewet’s eyes. You have been jealous of me for years, Meryetnebi thought. My visions have been stronger and clearer than yours since I was no more than a child. My teachers say I mastered the ancient texts faster than any other priestess in the history of the temple. You fear that were it not for the fact I have no blood ties to anyone here, it would be me holding the scepter of High Priestess. “Not only do I do not deny it, I am proud of it. He was an important man. A leader of his people. The vision showed that clearly. If I had to make the same decision again, I would do it without hesitation.” Even as she said the words, Meryetnebi know she had walked straight into the High Priestess’ trap.
Nefermewet stood. “This temple took you, an orphan, in when you were no more than a few days old. We raised you as one of our own, and now you have finally shown your true nature, something I have suspected for years.

“Meryetnebi, it is the order of this tribunal that you be cast out. You will be excised from our scrolls, and your name will no longer be spoken.”

Gasps filled the air, and Meryetnebi stood in stunned silence. She had expected punishment, but not this. I will not break. The visions were true. If Basret had not meant for me to act upon them, she would not have sent them to me.

“Take her.” Nefermewet stepped forward. “Make sure she does not steal anything else before the doors of the temple are closed behind her.

Things were a blur to Meryetnebi as the temple guardians escorted to her chambers and stripped her of everything of her life there, including the amulet given to her when she became a priestess. They gave her a single set of clothes, like those worn by the desert people nearby, a small waterskin and a single loaf of bread.

Before she knew what was happened, she stood before the doors to the outside world, and the population of the temple gathered behind her to watch her expulsion.

The guardians opened the doors, and Nefermewet’s voice rang out. “You are cast out, Meryetnebi. You are no longer a priestess of Basret. Only the wind shall know your name as you are consigned to dust.”

Someone shoved her from behind, and Meryetnebi stumbled forward. You want me to turn and beg for mercy, Nefermewet. I will not. I can feel Basret’s touch in my mind. She has not forsaken me.

Her head held high, she walked down the narrow path in the shade of the high gorge walls. If I am careful, this food and water will be enough to get me to the oasis.

“Meryetnebi.”

The whisper startled her and she whirled around. “Who’s there?” Automatically, she reached for her knife, but its customary spot was empty.

Pamose stepped out from around the curve ahead of her, carrying a large bundle.

“What are you doing, Pamose?” Meryetnebi asked. “If you are discovered talking to me….”

“Let me worry about that,” he said. “Not everyone agrees with what they did, and I don’t want to see you punished for their shortsightedness.” Pamose extended the bundle. “Here. There are some more clothes, food, and some money and other things you can trade with the nomads.” He held out his other hand, this one holding a long, slender bundle, wrapped in black silk. “And I managed to get your sword before Nefermewet took it for her own.”

“Thank you, Pamose.” Meryetnebi gratefully accepted the gifts.

“Make your way to the oasis as quickly as you can,” Pamose said. “I’m sure they’ll take you in for a few days, while you figure out what you’re going to do next.”

Meryetnebi nodded as she unwrapped her sword and tied it around her waist, its familiar weight a comfort.

“Be wary of who you trust.” Pamose glanced up the path toward the temple. “I fear there may be a traitor in the temple.”

Mery’s eyes widened. “A traitor?”

Pamose nodded. “The elders have been keeping it a secret from the rest of the temple. Things have been disappearing for weeks. Food, medicines, and some of the sacred scrolls have gone missing.”

“But who… No, the elders are going to blame me, aren’t they?”

“It seems likely. It would be easy enough for them to say it was you, with you not there to defend yourself.” He sighed. “This should never have happened to you. I wish there was something I could have done….”

“You did all you could, Pamose.” Mery reached up and stroked the side of his face with her knuckles.

“One more thing, Meryetnebi.” Pamose extended his hand again. Nestled in his palm was her amulet. He stepped forward and fastened the chain around her neck. “We wouldn’t want you to be without that.”

“Thank you,” she said, and blessed him for his thoughtfulness before she realized what she was doing. For a moment, she thought Pamose was going to object, but he just smiled.

“Now go,” he said. “The sun will soon be rising, and you need to make as much ground as you can before it gets too hot.”

“May your oasis be ever pure, Pamose.” Meryetnebi turned and continued down the narrow mountain path, away from the only home she’d ever known, and toward the desert of the Kishar.

But then the Green Lord came. He turned the water to dust, and what he could not destroy, he poisoned. His armies slaughtered our people, destroyed our homes, and cut down the forests. He turned our world into a wasteland.

Basret, the goddess of dreams, awoke for the very first time. She walked out of her palace in the stars, carrying her silver chalice in her hands. When she saw what the Green Lord had done, she fell to her knees and wept. Where her tears fell, they pooled and became the oceans. She dropped her chalice and it spilled. Where drops of the clear, cool water fell, they became springs and oasis in the ruined landscape.

The Green Lord and his armies sought to taint these too. Basret took her scetar, slashed her left hand, and scattered her blood over the landscape. Where her vitae mixed with the sand, prides of myran appeared and attacked the Green Lord’s men. Where it splashed onto bare rock, it turned into syserin, spitting poison and driving the Green Lord’s men out of the mountains. Where it mixed with water, mokaren erupted, dragging the Green Lord’s men under to their deaths.

Her creatures cut huge swaths through the Green Lord’s armies, staining the land with their blood, until all that remained was the Green Lord himself. In the city of Hamarna, he called out, blaspheming and daring Basret to show her face.

She appeared before him in all Her splendor, Her left hand still bloodied. The Green Lord lashed out at Her with his sword, but when it struck her, it shattered. Unharmed, Basret struck him down with her scetar. When his soul flew out of his body, She captured it in a jar, then threw it through the Gates of Amduat, banishing him into the realms of the cursed dead.