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Escorted to the open doorway of a small, rather innocuous looking hotel room, Jonathan entered nervously. Not at all keen on the idea of being trapped, he spun around as he heard the door close behind him. To his dismay, he found himself staring into the neck of the warrior he'd 'met' at the car. Backing up a few steps, Jonathan studied the imposing Abadi standing, arms folded authoritatively, in front of the only obvious exit.
"It is not our intent to keep you prisoner." Jonathan spun back around to face the woman whose hand remained, firmly but gently, resting on his nephew's head. "You may leave when you wish. Johari will not prevent it."
Jonathan smiled, tightly, more than a little uncomfortable with the situation.
"I take it he's 'Johari'," he replied coolly, thumbing in the direction of the warrior at the door. "And you would be?"
"I am Najat," the woman responded, politely bowing her head. "You are not O'Connell."
Despite his tension, Jonathan chuckled at the matter-of-fact statement. "No. I am not O'Connell; I'm the thorn in his side."
Najat cocked her head to one side, puzzled by the Englishman's reply.
"Jonathan Carnahan, O'Connell's brother-in-law," he clarified. Najat bowed her head to acknowledge the introduction.
"And you are Alex O'Connell," she stated, inclining her head to look at the child.
"Yes, ma'am," Alex tentatively replied, turning his head to look up at her. "What do want from us?"
Again, Najat tilted her head, contemplatively. "Want from you? We want nothing, child. The Abadi did not seek you; you sought the Abadi. What do you want from us?"
"Well, Ardeth, for a start, ma'am."
Despite the burqa, Jonathan could tell from her eyes that she smiled as she lifted her hand off the child's head and made a gesture to her left. Both he and Alex reflexively glanced over, each noticing for the first time a door to an adjoining room.
"A request easily granted, child," Najat quipped.
Alex exchanged glances with his uncle, before bolting toward the door. Throwing it open, he instantly spotted the Medjai.
"Ardeth!" He cried, dashing to the bed on which the warrior rested. Startled, Ardeth wearily opened his eyes. It took a moment for him to focus on Alex and see the worry etched across his little face.
"Do not be concerned, young O'Connell. I am fine," Ardeth croaked, attempting a smile, but not quite succeeding.
Alex grinned, too relieved to be back at the warrior's side to worry about the weakness of Ardeth's voice. Crawling up on the bed, he sighed contentedly as he curled up next to the Medjai.
Instinctively, Ardeth draped his arm comfortingly around Alex, then, closed his eyes again. He was too uncomfortable to fall asleep, but too tired to move, so he simply lay there, trying to will the pain and fever away.
"He is unwell," Najat observed, walking up behind Jonathan, as he stood in the doorway watching his nephew and Ardeth.
"Yes, ma'am." Turning slighting, he cast his eyes downward and explained. "That's the reason we sought the Abadi."
Jonathan expected more questions, but Najat simply bowed slightly and slipped past him. As she moved toward the bed, she made some sort of gesture he only vaguely caught out of the corner of his eye. Registering a sudden burst of activity as the other Abadi rushed to comply with the non-verbal command, Jonathan wished he'd paid more attention. It was obviously a handy little gesture to know when in the company of Abadi.
"With your permission, honored Medjai, we will attend you," Najat requested, her tone soft and soothing. Standing at the bedside, she respectfully waited for a response from Ardeth.
Wearily opening his eyes, the Medjai studied the Abadi for several seconds, before nodding, slightly. Acknowledging the consent, Najat bowed and began gently loosening his sash. Ardeth held up his hand, stopping her, and she quickly backed away. He frowned, sheepishly, realizing he'd likely given her the impression he was displeased, when in truth, he'd only meant to help. Even with the increasing fuzziness of his brain, he grasped that it would be easier to remove the sash if he weren't laying on it.
"Careful!" Alex hissed, as he, Jonathan and Najat rushed to help the Medjai rise.
"Relax. I've got you," Jonathan muttered, feeling the tension in the warrior's body as he held him upright while the sash was speedily removed. Jonathan found it interesting that she didn't also remove the Medjai's robe. Instead, Najat slid it down enough to briefly examine the back of the wounded shoulder, then, pulled it up again, before helping lay Ardeth back down.
Ardeth had to bit his lip to keep from groaning as he sat up, but it slipped out, soft and clipped, as they eased him back onto the mattress. Closing his eyes, he prayed to Allah for strength.
Concerned by the weariness and pain on Ardeth's face, Alex barely noticed as Najat stepped away from the bed. However, he did a double-take when she returned. There was something different; he wasn't sure what exactly, but there was definitely something. He studied her, as she carefully set a basin of water on the nightstand, and it finally clicked. She'd gotten shorter.
"You're not Najat!" Alex declared, accusatorily.
"I am Widad," the Abadi stated, with a slight bow, before backing away and returning to the adjoining room.
Alex refocused on Ardeth, his worry growing as he noticed that the fine beads of sweat on the Medjai's forehead had grown large enough to trickle down. Glancing around, Alex searched for a cloth to wipe them away, but didn't spot anything handy and turned to shout for someone to bring something. An Abadi floated thru the doorway, cloth in hand, before the request could be voiced. As she set some supplies on the stand and soaked the cloth, Alex studied her. He found himself unable to decide if it were Widad or Najat.
"Najat?" He asked, hesitantly, as the woman turned to face him. His brow wrinkled with confusion when she made no move toward Ardeth.
"I am Zaynab," the woman replied, simply, bowing slightly before backing away as Widad had.
Alex huffed in frustration. He'd grown weary of the Abadi and their burqas and their generally lack of communication. Exasperated, he glanced at the doorway, saw one of the women approaching and quickly looked away. He'd lost interest in playing the 'who's under the burqa' game.
"The burqas are not worn to tease you, child," Najat quipped, earning an indignant glare from Alex. He'd also grown weary of being called 'child'.
"Yeah, right. So why are they worn?" he growled, sarcastically. "And the name is Alex!"
"Alex," Jonathan chastised, but the Abadi raised her hand to shush him.
Najat studied Alex for a moment. She'd understood the question was not sincere, but sensed his growing frustration and hoped an answer would make him more comfortable.
"Burqas are worn by different tribes for different reasons. When we are amongst outsiders, the Abadi wear them for protection," she explained, snatching the cloth from the basin and swirling it across Ardeth's feverish skin. The Medjai half-heartedly listened to the conversation, as the soft caress of the cloth and the blissful coolness of the water lulled him toward sleep.
"Protection? What do you mean?" Jonathan questioned, finding the conversation oddly interesting.
"The Abadi are a matriarchal society," Najat explained.
"A what?" Alex asked, curiosity overcoming his hostility.
"She means the women are in charge," his uncle clarified.
"Oh! So you have a queen, instead of a king?"
"Yes," Najat replied.
"And you wear the burqas so that nobody knows which one of you it is?"
Najat nodded.
"But you don't wear them if just your people are around?" Alex quizzed.
"No," she stated, as she dropped the cloth back into the basin. "Nor is it a law that we must wear them amongst outsiders, it is simply a custom."
Alex nodded and glanced back down at Ardeth. Too his relief, he saw that the Medjai seemed more relaxed, possibly even asleep. When Alex looked up again, Najat was gone.
"Hey! Where'd she go?"
Jonathan thumbed over his shoulder, indicating she'd returned to the other room. Twisting around to glance past his uncle, Alex gaped as he saw a woman approaching them wearing an intricately crocheted, silvery shawl draped around her, in place of a burqa.
Jonathan's jaw also dropped as he admired the woman's high cheekbones and full lips. Her eyes captured his attention most, however. He almost seemed to drown in their depths. Seeing his uncle's reaction, Alex giggled, breaking the spell and sending a chagrined blush across Jonathan's face.
"N...N...Najat?" Jonathan stammered, as she floated up to the side of the bed.
"Yes," she replied, with a slight bow. Glancing at Alex, she smiled, sweetly. "I hoped this might make you more at ease, chi...Alex."
"You didn't have to," Alex responded. Grasping the enormity of the gesture, he returned a sincere smile. "But it does, tha...shukran."
Satisfied that both Alex and Jonathan were sufficiently disarmed, Najat focused on Ardeth. Slipping a finger beneath the edge of his robe, she gingerly pulled it aside to reveal his bandaged shoulder and ribs.
The gentle touch provoked a soft sigh from the Medjai, as it dragged him back to awareness. The few minutes of sleep had cleared some of the fog from his weary brain, but Ardeth knew it wouldn't last. Determined to seek the answers to his questions before the fuzziness returned, he reluctantly opened his eyes. His browed furrowed at the unexpected sight that greeted him.
Becoming aware of Ardeth's scrutiny, Najat reflexively adjusted her shawl, carefully tucking back a few renegade slips of hair.
"Najat?" He croaked. The rarity of an Abadi uncovering amongst outsiders left him a little uncertain if she were real or a dream.
"Yes, it is I," Najat answered softly, before turning toward the nightstand to open up a wrapped bundle Widad had left by the water basin.
"What's that?" Alex asked, curiously. Distractedly rising up to get a better view, he lost his balance.
"Careful!" Jonathan hissed, steadying the youngster before he fell into the Medjai. However, he'd caught him a moment too late to prevent the child's knee from brushing against Ardeth's side.
Ardeth's eyes closed tightly as a wave of pain radiated out from his swollen abdominal wound and tender ribs, provoking a hiss that he wasn't able to stifle. Najat spun around and quickly slipped a hand into his, providing the warrior something to grip besides the bedding as he arch his back against the pain.
"S...s...sorry, Ardeth. I didn't mea...," Alex muttered, tears welling in his eyes. Ardeth cut him off with a weak wave of his hand, but it was another minute before he could catch his breath to speak.
"D..do...not...con..cern...your...self...young...O...Con...nell," Ardeth finally managed to gasp. He wanted to say more to comfort the child, but simply couldn't get it out. Instead, he forced his eyes open enough to glance at Alex and managed a weak, pained smile.
"It was not intended, Alex. Do not trouble yourself," Najat soothed, maternally.
Alex sniffed, but managed a quivering smile. Wiping away his tears, he carefully scooted toward the edge of the bed, unwilling to take a chance he might accidentally hurt Ardeth again. He'd intended to get down, but paused when the Medjai reached out for him.
"Stay," Ardeth whispered, managing to catch the child's hand. It seemed dishonorable to allow Alex to leave so dejectedly after bravely sitting by his side for so many hours.
"But what if..."
Alex's protests faded away as Ardeth tugged weakly on his hand. Fresh tears welled in the child's eyes as he felt the warrior's frailty. For the first time since his father had pulled Ardeth off the sword, Alex seriously considered the possibility Ardeth might actually die, and it banished any desire to leave the Medjai's side. Lying back down on the bed and curling into a fetal position, he clung to the warrior's arm. Closing his eyes, Alex let his tears flowed freely. Exhausted, he quickly fell asleep. Feeling the tears dampen his arm, Ardeth sighed.
"It is good that he sleeps," Najat soothed.
"Yeah, don't worry about Alex. He's a plucky little bugger...be right as rain after some sleep," Jonathan chimed in, taking his cue from the Abadi.
"Yes, he is ...strong...much like...his parents," Ardeth croaked, closing his eyes. Najat smiled, sadly, and turned back toward the nightstand to finish what she'd started.
"You never did say what it was you were up to," Jonathan observed, feeling it his duty to take on the role of Ardeth's protector now that Alex had fallen asleep.
Najat glanced over her shoulder, briefly studying the curious Englishman. "I am mixing herbs, which, I hope, will ease some of the his pain and reduce his fever."
"Oh, well then, carry on," Jonathan mumbled. After a tolerant bow, the Abadi returned to her work. Jonathan continued to watch, curiously, as she blended several herbs into a small cup filled with water. Holding it carefully in one hand, Najat turned towards Ardeth.
"Honored Medjai," she whispered, respectfully, and waited for him to open his eyes.
"Najat, ti'raf 'ismee," he whispered. Reluctantly opening his eyes, Ardeth raised a bemused eyebrow at the formality of his long-time friend. ("Najat, you know my name.")
"Zai ma terid," Najat replied, torn between the urge to frown, disapprovingly, or smile with amusement. Custom dictated that she not use his name amongst outsiders, but then she'd already broken with custom by removing her burqa. ("As you wish.")
"Heeey," Jonathan whined, before either could speak again. "Could we keep it in English?"
"My apologies," Najat replied, bowing politely, before returning her attention to Ardeth. "Will you drink this?"
The Medjai nodded, gratefully, and allowed her to support his head as he drank the concoction. Relief washed through him as he immediately recognized the unpleasant taste of the medicine. Ardeth was certain it would be strong enough to ease his pain. Downing the last swallow, the knowledge made him smile ever so slightly. Throughout the journey from the bed to the airport, he'd clung to the hope the Abadi had brought medicines with them, knowing that the herbal remedies were stronger than Dr. Hamilton's aspirin. Ardeth didn't fault the physician, aware that his attempts to ease the discomfort had been sincere; they'd simply not been particularly effective.
"Shukran," he whispered, with sincerity. As Najat removed her hand, allowing his head to rest upon the pillow once more, Ardeth closed his eyes. He sighed, contentedly, as the medicine quickly went to work dulling his pain.
Najat placed the cup back on the nightstand and meticulously rebundled the herbs, allowing time for the medicine to spread throughout his body. Turning back after a few minutes, she carefully slid his robe aside to inspect the abdominal wound. The whispery touch of the shifting fabric sent pain screaming out from his over-wrought nerves, forcing a hiss from Ardeth that brought a frown to Najat's face. She was certain that she'd given the medicine enough time to dull his pain; the wound had to be very serious to have still provoked such a response.
Almost fearfully, Najat carefully removed the bandage, refusing to glance at the wound until she could focus on it fully. Ardeth clenched the bed sheet in response to her gentle touch, but she refused to let it distract her. Tossing the bloodied bandage aside, Najat finally looked at the wound and nearly gasped at the severity of the infection. However, the wound was not great in size - at least she didn't think so, with the areas so badly swollen, it was hard to tell. Studying it thoroughly, Najat's frowned deepened as she spotted foreboding signs that the infection had already spread beyond the injury. She turned back toward the nightstand, with a sigh, and prepared a poultice, despite the sinking feeling that it would not be enough.
Jonathan had been determined not to look, but still caught enough of a glimpse to realize that Ardeth was in worse shape than he'd thought. Certain that all the moving around hadn't helped, he sighed, feeling more than a little guilty. Rick and Evy were going to kill him for helping Ardeth leave, especially if the Medjai didn't recover.
"You worry for your friend?" Najat asked, although it was more of a statement.
"I worry about what my sister and her husband are going do to me for not sending him straight back to bed," the Englishman responded, glumly.
"They are good friends?"
Jonathan's brow wrinkled for a moment before grasping the question. "Ah! You mean Rick, Evy and Ardeth?"
Najat nodded.
Jonathan shrugged. "Suppose so. I've never really thought about it."
Although she said nothing, Jonathan frowned, sensing that his answer had somehow displeased the Abadi. It made him wonder if it were important for some reason. Before he could ponder it further, he saw a troubled expression on Najat's face.
"Is there something wrong?"
"If it would not be too much trouble, I need some ice...for the swelling."
Jonathan nodded. "Back in a jiff."
Najat bowed her head, appreciatively, and watched him leave, before grabbing the poultice from the nightstand. An amused smile lit her face as she turned to place it on Ardeth's wound.
Ardeth tried, but failed, to bite back a moan as the poultice pressed against his injured flesh. Cracking his eyes open, his brow wrinkled at the unexpected sight of Najat's grin.
"What is amusing?" he asked. His weariness made him sound a bit peevish, causing Najat to instantly grow serious.
"My apologies," she began, but Ardeth waved away her concern, so she simply answered his question. "The Englishman is fetching ice..."
"Yes, I heard."
Najat frowned. She'd assumed he was dozing when she'd discussed him with Jonathan. Despite the brief duration of the conversation, it made her uncomfortable to realize he had heard.
"Why is this amusing?" Ardeth inquired, sleepily.
"He believes he will return 'in a jiff,' but that is not possibly. There is no place to fetch ice in this hotel, he must seek it elsewhere."
"This will take some time?" Ardeth asked, growing a little more alert.
"Yes," Najat replied, turning slightly to face him. She sensed from his tone that that he was leading somewhere.
"Then you must tell me now how to stop the curse?" Ardeth demanded. Intently gazing at her, he suddenly appeared fully awake. Startled by the abrupt shift, it took Najat a few seconds to grasp the significance of the question.
"The wounds...?"
"Were inflicted with the Devourer's weapons," Ardeth finished for her. Najat closed her eyes and sighed, mournfully.
"I feared as much," she informed him, remorsefully. "The curse cannot be stopped."
The Medjai's brow narrowed, determinedly, his eyes darkening as his gaze grew more intense.
"I do not accept that! There is _always_ a way. You will tell me," Ardeth demanded, his voice low, almost menacing.
"I cannot tell you of what I do not know," Najat insisted, regretfully. "It cannot be stopped."
Unconsciously growling in frustration, instead of pain, Ardeth abruptly pulled himself up. His hand draped reflexively over the poultice, holding it in place over his wound as he rested against the wall, glowering at the resolute Abadi. Najat fidgeted under the intensity of his gaze, but gave no indication of yielding, and, after a minute, Ardeth relented. Letting his head fall back, he closed his eyes and sighed. Another minute passed, before he softly whispered a single word, his voice filled with desperation.
"Please."
He heard Najat sigh and felt a tickle of hope. Lifting his head, he opened his eyes and look at her.
"You must care very deeply for this person," she stated, although it was more of a question. Najat had heard of the O'Connells, but never from Ardeth. He rarely spoke of the outside world when he visited the Abadi.
"Evelyn is a friend," Ardeth replied, as though it explained everything.
Najat studied him, contemplatively, then, raised a perplexed eyebrow. "A friend that appears to have earnestly tried to kill you."
Ardeth said nothing. Not entirely sure of what had happened, he was at a loss to explain it to Najat. The Medjai felt certain, however, that he must've done something to provoke Evelyn's attack. His brain was just too weary to figure out exactly what. Letting his head rest against the wall, Ardeth closed his eyes. Almost immediately, the image of Evelyn's rage-filled expression flashed before him, sending a shudder through him as his eyes flew open again.
"Evelyn would not have intentionally done so without provocation," Ardeth finally whispered, but it lacked conviction. His next statement did not, however. Regardless of the reason for the attack, the blame was his. Evelyn would not be in danger had he retrieved the weapons before they were bloodied. "I cannot, will not, let her suffer when it is I that am at fault."
Najat's brow furrowed. Many emotions had danced across his features during his silence, but too quickly for the Abadi to interpret. There had, however, been one emotion easily recognized. It was doubt - of that Najat had none. However, she knew the Medjai well enough to be certain he would never openly admit it to her.
"Please, my old friend," Ardeth repeated his plea in a soft, desperate whisper.
Najat frowned. She knew what the outcome would be were she to give him the answers he sought, and wasn't certain she could bear it. Still, she could not deny him, either. He had accompanied the Abadi to England as her guest, as so was her responsibility. Whatever the truth of the matter, Ardeth believed himself at fault. Her duty demanded that she provide him the means to make amends, even if it cost him his life.
"As I have stated, the curse cannot be stopped; Al 'Asima will claim Evelyn's soul," she began, after a reluctant sigh. Lifting his head to glare at her, Ardeth opened his mouth to object, but Najat raised her hand, pleading for patience. "However, while you still live, it is possible that her soul may not be destroyed."
Ardeth sighed, relief washing over him. Letting his head fall back again, he closed his eyes and listened.
"Upon death, Al 'Asima's judgment is immediate. But, so long as your soul remains tethered to your body, Evelyn has three days to prove herself deserving of mercy. To do this, she must reach the sacred sarcophagus. Locked within is the Amulet of Souls, which Evelyn must wear in order to submit herself to Al 'Asima for judgment," Najat elaborated.
"The weapons will unlock it?" Ardeth speculated, drowsily.
The Abadi nodded.
Ardeth lifted his head, once more, his forehead wrinkling in consternation. "It is that simple?"
Najat sighed, unhappily, remembering of the doubt she'd seen in his face. "It is simple, but not certain. If, as you believe, the fault is not hers, her soul will be judged innocent and set free. But, I warn you, if Al 'Asima finds the fault does lie with her, her soul will be destroyed."
Closing his eyes, Ardeth inhaled as deeply as his injuries would allow. The memory of Evelyn's rage-filled expression flashed before him, but this time he did not flee from it. Keeping his eyes closed, Ardeth tried, as he had many times, to clearly recall, what had happened, but it was no use. His feverish brain simply refused. Without certainty of the events, Ardeth knew it was too great a risk to allow Evelyn's actions to be judged. Opening his eyes, he sighed his breath out slowly, before focusing again on Najat.
"There must be another way," he insisted, determinedly. "I ask you, what else may be done?"
Najat sighed, dejectedly. She'd prayed he would not ask, but knew he would. "As her victim, you may stand in her place."
"That is what must be done," Ardeth declared, resolutely, his eyes lighting up with hope.
She'd known he would choose it the moment his questions began. However, that did not prevent her from staring at Ardeth, incredulously.
"Ardeth, you must understand, this has never before been done. I do not know by what Al 'Asima will make her judgment."
"It is what must be," Ardeth replied, matter-of-factly, as he closed his eyes.
"You are willing to risk your soul for this person!?" Najat questioned, appalled that he would even consider such a thing. "Surely this is more than friendship, more even than honor, demands!"
Ardeth carefully shook his head. "Were I to allow the destruction of Evelyn's soul when it was within my power to prevent it, my soul would never find peace, even in Paradise."
Dismayed, Najat simply nodded, compliantly. She could tell that he would not be swayed. He was determined to sacrifice himself, and, as she has sent him on the errand that started it, she was honor-bound to help him.
"If this must be done, we should depart at once," Najat muttered, sad resignation coating her voice. "I will arrange it."
"Arrange what?" Jonathan asked, returning to the bedside with a small bucket of ice. "Ardeth, old boy, wasn't expecting to see you sitting up."
Ardeth opened his eyes and nodded, very slightly, to acknowledge the Englishman, before shifting uncomfortably and closing his eyes again.
"Arrangements to leave England," Najat answered Jonathan, taking the filled ice bucket he handed her.
"To go back to Egypt?"
"Yes," Najat confirmed. Quickly bundling some ice into a towel, she gently lifted Ardeth's hand aside to place the ice over the poultice. Ardeth squirmed slightly in response to the added pressure, but draped his hand over the top to secure it.
"Oh, well then, isn't it time we let Rick and Evy in on what's up?" Jonathan inquired.
"No!" Ardeth exclaimed, his eyes flying open and fixing on the Englishman.
"But..," Jonathan began to argue.
"NO!" Ardeth repeated, adamantly. "I have been given the answers I sought and now know what is required to save Evelyn. All that remains it to carry it out."
Jonathan breathed a sigh of relief. Despite Ardeth's determination, he'd worried that there wouldn't be a way to stop the curse.
"That's excellent! But, really, shouldn't we...?"
"There is nothing O'Connell can do," Ardeth interrupted, truthfully, hoping the Englishman would not notice he'd only referred to one O'Connell. Jonathan could not inform them of what he was about to attempt; it would only cause them pain. "As it was my blood that was spilled, it is I that must remedy the situation. Informing the O'Connells will do nothing but increase the risk to Evelyn."
"All right," Jonathan hesitantly agreed, wishing he hadn't missed the conversation the Medjai and the Abadi had apparently had during his absence. Ardeth was obviously leaving something out - something that the sick feeling in Jonathan's stomach hinted was important.
"You must swear you will not speak of it to them," Ardeth insisted. Jonathan looked puzzled for moment - he could hardly mention it to them while he was on his way to Cairo, and they were in London. Then it dawned on him that the Medjai intended to leave him in London, as well.
"Hey! Wait a minute! I am coming with you, you know," he adamantly informed them.
"Jonath..."
It was Jonathan's turn to interrupt Ardeth.
"No! Don't even suggest it. I'm coming with you, and that's all there is to it!"
Ardeth said nothing verbally, but his eyes spoke volumes.
"Please, Ardeth. She's my sister; let me see this through to the end," Jonathan pleaded. He saw the Medjai's eyes soften and breathed an internal sigh of relief. "Besides, you can't send me back now. They'll kill me for helping you leave!"
"It is true, and I do not wish to carry the responsibility of your death," Ardeth jested, a corner his mouth curving up ever so slightly. Convincing Jonathan to stay behind would require more strength than he could spare. The Englishman would travel with them, but he would not be told of what was to come.
"Good. All settled, then?" Jonathan asked, just to be certain, and Ardeth nodded wearily.
"I will make arrangement to have the child taken home," Najat offered, seeing that the two men had settled their disagreement.
"Have the child what? Taken where? Wait a minute! What's going on!" Alex quizzed, groggily, still three-quarters asleep. Ardeth cringed at the sound of his voice. He'd prayed the child would stay asleep until after they left.
"We must return to Egypt; you must return home," Ardeth announced, closing his eyes tightly against the argument he knew would come.
"Uh-uuh! I'm going with you!" Alex shouted, sitting up on his knees to glare obstinately at the Medjai.
"Alex!" Jonathan hissed, but his nephew simply rolled his eyes and returned his attention to Ardeth.
"You cannot travel with us without your parents' knowledge, and we haven't time to inform them," Ardeth wearily attempted to reason.
"We'll ring them," Alex countered.
"Young O'Connell, it simply isn't...,"Ardeth began, but Alex interrupted, recognizing the slightly condescending tone of voice that grown-ups used to refuse him without a giving a good reason.
"You can have someone take me home, if you want, but I'll just sneak away and follow on my own," Alex challenged, rebelliously. "And we both know I'm a lot more likely to get into trouble on my own, than with you!"
Ardeth and Jonathan sighed simultaneously, while Najat attempted to stifle a chuckle.
"I may assume the child will be traveling with us, as well?" she queried, valiantly attempting to stay composed. Ardeth nodded, grumpily. "Widad and Zaynab shall inform his parents, so that they may follow."
Ardeth frowned. He didn't want them to follow; they would try to prevent him from doing what he must, and Evelyn would be lost.
"Do not be concerned," Najat assured, realizing, after a moment, what had displeased him. "There will be sufficient time to do what must be done, before they arrive."
Ardeth nodded and closed his eyes, as Najat bowed slightly to excuse herself. The plan left him wary, but there seemed little alternative. Nothing short of tying the child up would prevent Alex from following, and it would be unkind to leave the O'Connells without knowledge of their son's whereabouts. Najat seemed confident that it would not cause them difficulty; he would have to trust her.
"What must be done before they arrive?" Alex inquired, but received no response from the dozing Medjai. "Ardeth!"
"Let him sleep, Alex," Jonathan softly hissed, snagging his nephew's hand as it reached over to shake Ardeth's arm. "You can ask him later."
Alex shrugged and shifted to sit on the bed, stretching his legs out in front of him, to relieve the pressure on his scraped-up knees. It seemed strange to him that they would suddenly start bothering him now. After all, he'd been kneeling on them, of and on, for a while. Alex decided he must have been too distracted to notice, with Ardeth and the Abadi and everything. Pulling himself backward to rest against the wall next to Ardeth, his eyes slowly drifted shut as he contemplated the slight stinging.
The early hour caught up to Jonathan as he stood by himself in the silence, watching Ardeth and his nephew dozing. Glancing around, he spotted a chair. It didn't look very comfortable, but he decided it would do. After all, Najat was making arrangement for them to leave, so he wouldn't be sitting on it very long. Wandering over drowsily, Jonathan picked it up and quietly brought it over to the nightstand. Sinking onto it, he rested his arm on the stand and his head on his arm, before closing his eyes - just for a second - while he waited for Najat to come back.
~*~*~*~*~
Evy startled awake. Rolling off Rick’s arm, she carefully sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, before glancing around, in search of what had woken her. She spotted nothing; the room was peacefully still. Relaxing back against the headboard and closing her eyes, Evy decided it must have been a dream. She was just drifting into another one when the hall clock chimed, rousing her.
‘Hmmm…six o’clock,’ Evy thought, lazily. The sun wouldn’t be up for a bit, so she considered curling back up next to Rick. Abruptly remembering Ardeth, Evy’s eyes flew open. ‘I should check on him – no – I’ll only disturb him.’
Dr. Hamilton had promised to leave Ardeth in peace until morning, and she knew she should honor that, despite the difficulty of it. It had been painfully obvious that Ardeth needed sleep. She knew she might as well lie back down, but settled for closing her eyes and trying to relax sitting up. It didn’t take long to realize the pointlessness of the endeavor. Sighing, Evy carefully rose from the bed, pausing for a moment as Rick stirred slightly, before rolling over. Once he’d settled again, she tiptoed toward the door. As she wasn’t likely to get back to sleep, she decided she might as well grab something from the pantry to distract herself from the continued temptation to check on Ardeth.
‘The journal! Where is it?!’ The thought striking her suddenly, Evy halted mid-step halfway out the door. ‘Please, don’t let me have left it sitting next to Ardeth!’
Slipping back into her bedroom, Evy glanced around, desperately praying she’d remembered to grab it. A long, relieved sigh escaped her lips as she spotted it on the nightstand. Tiptoeing over, she snatched it up and made her way out the door.
~*~*~*~*~
Reaching the pantry, Evy grabbed a tin of biscuits and set it, and the journal, on the table, before putting on the teakettle. It was a bit early, but she found the thought of the warm, soothing liquid too tempting to resist. Sitting at the table to wait, Evy flipped the journal open to the dog-eared page, then turned to the next one:
“Allah be praised! Ardeth’s fever has broken at last. It happened very late in the night, just as it seemed death had finally, mercifully, arrived to claim him. He’d struggled for so many hours, there seemed no strength left, of body or will, and then he’d grown so still, even Fathi was certain that Ardeth had passed. He could not bring himself to reach out to him, for fear of confirming it. Neither could I. But dear, steady Badi’a did. I could hardly believe her words when she said he still lived and his fever had relented. Ardeth has not awoken, but it matters not. Once again, we dare hope. It is a great gift from Allah.”
Relief washed over Evy. The journal hadn’t said that Ardeth died; she’d been so certain that it would.
‘Of course it hadn’t,’ Evy thought to herself, ‘he’s upstairs in our guestroom, so obviously, it couldn’t have said that he died. I was just too exhausted to think rationally last night.’
Glancing at the next paragraph, she noticed it was dated several days later, but the kettle’s whistle interrupted before she had a chance to read more. Jumping up, Evy rushed over to silence it before it awoke the entire household. Sliding the kettle off the heat, a little knot of worried tied in her stomach. What if it woke Ardeth? Evy decided, despite her earlier resolve, she better look in on him. Pausing long enough to put away the biscuits and grab the journal, she headed back up the stairs toward the guest room.
~*~*~*~*~
Returning to Ardeth’s bedside, Najat frowned, anxiously. The feverish blush of his skin had grown deeper during her absence, and the sweat, glistening in the low light, coalesced into increasing larger droplets before trickling down. She noticed his expression was peaceful, however. The powerful herbs had at least eased his pain, even if they’d done little, if anything at all, to quell the infection draining the life from him.
It was tempting to not disturb him, but Najat knew she must. Grabbing a fresh bandage, she took a deep breath to steal herself and gingerly lifted his hand from atop the melted ice pack. Ardeth didn’t even stir, but that was not unexpected, and she tried not to let it worry her. The Medjai desperately needed the sleep the medicine had allowed him; it did not seem unreasonable that he would be reluctant to wake again so soon.
Lifting away the melted ice pack and the poultice as gently as she could, Najat frowned. The swelling had decreased enough to see the angry, jagged edges of the wound. It had all the appearance of having been inflicted with deadly intent, despite Ardeth’s determined assurances to the contrary. However, Najat refused to waste precious time speculating on events that could not be altered. It already seemed doubtful the Medjai possessed sufficient strength to accomplish his task. Whatever reserve he drawn from to get as far as he had, the fever was quickly draining away.
Forcing herself to focus, Najat pressed the fresh bandage against the wound, finally provoking a response from the Medjai. Abruptly waking, he hissed and grabbed her hand, pulling it away. The suddenness of his reaction startled Najat, but she quickly regained her composure.
“My apologies for waking you, but we must prepare to leave.”
Ardeth dazedly blinked his eyes several time, before nodding. Responding more reflexively than coherently, he attempted to rise, sending intense flares of pain shooting out from his abdomen. Hissing loudly, the Medjai crumpled weakly back onto the bed, gulping down air in deep gasps that provoked even more pain from his broken ribs. Closing his eyes and focusing, Ardeth managed to even out his breathing, slightly decreasing the pain. However, the effort drained much of the strength that sleep had replenished, and he found himself drifting toward slumber again.
Sighing mournfully, Najat finished securing his bandage and backed away. Studying him, she decided to let him sleep a few more minutes while she woke the others. Tentatively turning away, she faced the Englishman.
“Jonathan.” A soft, sensual voice wove its way into his dream, making Jonathan smile, giddily.
“Mmfflllmmm,” he yawned in his sleep. “Oh yeah! That’s it! Sing to me, my sweet little songbird.”
Reaching out for the luscious beauty in his dream, Jonathan toppled off his precarious perch and landed, solidly, in a heap on the floor. ‘Snort’ “What in the….!”
“Jonathan?!” Najat exclaimed, sheepishly, reaching down to help the Englishman to his feet. “I beg your forgiveness! It was not my intention to startle you so.”
Jonathan looked, blurry eyed, at the burqa-shrouded figure standing over him. “Najat?”
“Yes,” the figure responded. “You are uninjured?”
“Fine. I’m fine,” he hastily answered, his words slightly slurred with last vestiges of sleep. Recollection slowly replacing the haze in his brain, Jonathan shrugged away her concern, and her help - trying salvage a little of his pride as he clumsily rose to his feet. “Did you need something?”
Smirking beneath her burqa, Najat stepped back, giving him more room to maneuver. “It is time to go.”
“Oh, right, of course, time to go,” Jonathan mumbled in response and stumbled toward the door. Colliding solidly with Johari, he tripped over his own feet and, abruptly, found himself sitting on the foot of the bed, provoking a grimace of pain from Ardeth.
“Aren’t you supposed to be holding up the other door?” Jonathan quipped, wary, even in a sleepy daze, of the foreboding Abadi warrior.
“There is no longer a need, as we are all in this room,” Najat distractedly answered for her warrior.
“Huh? Where…?” Jonathan began to ask, trying to rub the stubborn bits of sleep from his eyes. Najat glanced over and sighed, wishing the Englishman would finish waking up.
“Muhannad and Samih escort Zaynab and Widad to the home of the O’Connell’s, so that they may assure them of their son’s safety, ” she explained, waiting, this time, for a reply.
“Oh! Right. Carry on, then. We should get going, too. Don’t you think?” Jonathan stammered. Nearly fully awake, he stood and, self-consciously, shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Yes. That would be wise,” Najat replied, almost patiently, before turning her attention to Alex. She frowned as she noticed the child’s scrapped knees and hand. The injuries weren’t serious, but should have been tended to all the same. Najat sighed softly, aware that there wasn’t time to do so at the moment; it would have to wait until they were on the plane.
“Child...Alex,” she softly intoned.
“Mmfflllummp,” Alex replied, rolling onto his side.
About to try again, Najat hesitated, tempted to let him sleep. She or Jonathan could easily carry the child. However, Najat could see that he’d been disturbed enough by the jostling mattress to teeter on the brink of waking, and suspected that it would only upset him if anyone attempted to pick him up. Gently caressing his cheek, she tried again.
“You must wake, Alex. It is time to leave.”
“Huh?” Alex snorted, startling at her touch and looking up with bleary eyes. After a second, he remembered where he was and sat up. He paused to rub the sleep from his eyes with his fists, then, glanced coherently at Najat. “Time to go, is it?”
“Yes,” Najat replied, pleased the child had come around more quickly than his uncle. Backing away as Alex climbed from the bed, she moved around to the other side to reawaken Ardeth.
“You put your burqa back on,” Alex observed.
“Yes.”
“Why?” he quizzed.
“I removed it because you are my guest. To make you more comfortable, it was proper that I uncover. However, now we are to venture out into the world, so it is proper that I be hidden once more.”
“Oh,” Alex replied, simply. Najat bowed, slightly, and returned her focus to the Medjai.
“Ardeth.” The sound of his name provoked no response from the soundly sleeping Medjai. “Ardeth, you must wake.”
Still managing no response, Najat softly caressed one of his tattoos, hoping to rouse him from his dreams. He woke, very abruptly and with a startled gasp. “My apologies, but it is time to leave.”
Ardeth nodded, drowsily, and shifted to rise. Although only slight, the movement was enough to provoke more pain. Biting back a clipped moan, he closed his eyes to ride out the wave.
“ARDETH!” Alex shouted, rushing to the warrior’s side. Najat grabbed him before he actually reached the bed, but it was close enough for Alex to notice how much weaker the warrior appeared. Ardeth attempted to wave away the concern, but couldn’t quite muster the strength.
“I am all right, Alex. It was simply unexpected,” he whispered, opening his eyes and managing a weak half-smile for the child.
“If you would allow me to assist you, honor….” The Medjai sighed, reminding Najat of his earlier request. “…Ardeth.”
As she spoke, Najat signaled Johari to come closer. As weak as he’d grown, the rather large Medjai would be hardly more than dead weight. She didn’t doubt that she could get him to his feet, but was unsure her strength would be sufficient to support him as they moved.
“There is no need. I can manage,” Ardeth croaked, weakly, but firmly.
Waving away the Abadi’s offer of assistance, he bit his lip and balled his fists, before attempting to move, determined to do a better job of hiding his discomfort this time. With the deepest breath he could manage, Ardeth eased himself over until he sat on the edge of the mattress. He smiled a little as he rested there. With his four of traveling companion hovering around him, it pleased the warrior that he’d made no sound that would betray his weakness. Taking another deep breath, Ardeth attempted to rise, but found, to his chagrin, that his legs were not feeling as cooperative as his voice. As they crumpled beneath his weight, four sets of hands reached out to catch him.
“I am fine,” Ardeth commented, preemptively, before sighing in frustration. His words did little to convince anyone, however, and three of the four sets of hands continued to grip him as Johari shifted to pull the Medjai’s arm over his shoulders.
“Uh-huh,” Jonathan quipped, as he and Najat let go. “Of course you are. Just peachy.”
Ardeth ignored the Englishman, choosing, instead, to focus on the child anxiously slipping a hand into his.
“All will be well, young O’Connell. Do not worry,” he whispered. Glancing up, Alex attempted a reassuring smile, not wanting Ardeth to waste any energy worrying about him. Ardeth smiled, weakly, in return, but it turned into a grimace as the group began to move.
~*~*~*~*~
“RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICK!”
O’Connell bolted upright as the panicked scream ripped him from a very pleasant dream. He was alert, on his feet, and halfway to the door by the time Evy flew through it.
“THEY’RE GONE!” She shouted, as Rick’s mouth opened to ask her what was wrong.
“Who?” Was what he ended up uttering.
“WHO?!” his wife responded, looking at him as though he were the village idiot. “ALEX AND ARDETH!”
“Please, stop shouting, Evy,” Rick pleaded, firmly of the opinion that it was way too early for that sort of volume. “You’re gonna wake the dead.”
“CALM DOWN?!” Evy responded, earning a disapproving glare from her husband. Throwing her hands up in exasperation, she earnestly tried to speak more softly. “How can I calm down? Didn’t you hear what I just said?”
Rick frowned, shaking his head as he replied, calmly. “The whole house heard what you just said.”
“How can you be so calm about this!?”
Rick sighed; it was also way too early for hysterics. “All right, Alex and Ardeth aren’t in their room, right?”
“EXACTLY!” Evy responded, relieved that he was finally starting to grasp the alarming development. However, she found it more than a little disconcerting that he still appeared calm. ‘He’s in shock,’ she finally decided.
“Well, let’s think about this for a second. Alex is eight – a handful, yeah, but, still, just a kid. And Ardeth, well, Ardeth can barely even sit up. How far away could they be?”
Evy’s brow wrinkled as she considered Rick’s annoyingly rational argument. She realized he was right, of course. They couldn’t have gone far. Still, that didn’t mean there wasn’t a problem. Ardeth had no business being up and around. Anything could happen! He could pass out, injuring himself further as he fell, or even just trip and reopen his wounds. Evy gasped as another possibility crossed her mind - the stairs. He’d never make to the bottom on his feet in the condition he was in, and another fall down them might just kill him. Turning abruptly, Evy fled from the room, without explanation, and raced toward the stairs.
“ALEX! ARDETH! WHERE ARE YOU! ANSWER ME!”
Pausing just long enough to throw on some pants, Rick flew out the door after his wife. He slammed, painfully, into Dr. Hamilton, who looked a little bleary-eyed, but alarmed.
“We seemed to have lost your patient,” Rick informed the physician, before he could ask.
Dr. Hamilton’s eyebrow rose. “Lost?”
Rick shrugged. “Apparently they aren’t where she left them.”
The physician’s brow wrinkled with concern and disapproval. Between the blood loss and fever, it seemed doubtful Ardeth could stay on his feet more than a few minutes, if that, before collapsing. When that happened, he would certainly rip out some of his stitches, at the very least. Dr. Hamilton had no particular desire to re-stitch the wounds again. Nor did he relish the idea of having to tend to any new injuries his patient might incur. Swearing softly under his breath, he wondered where an eight-year old and a gravely-injured Arab might go in the middle of the night.
“Did she check the washroom?” He inquired of his host. Rick smirked, doubtful that anything that simple had crossed Evy’s mind. Both men immediately headed towards Ardeth’s room to check for themselves.
“RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICK!”
O’Connell darted out of the washroom and into the hallway. Not expecting him to emerge from Ardeth’s room, Evy slid to a halt so abruptly that she lost her balance. Latching on to Rick to steady herself, she glanced up, questioningly.
“We were checking the washroom,” he admitted. Evy stared at him for moment, and Rick worried she might yell at him. When she frowned sheepishly, instead, he realized his suspicion had been correct. She hadn’t checked the washroom yet.
“You found them?” Evy looked up at him, a spark of hope lighting her eyes. Rick shook his head.
“Rick! Where could they be?! I’ve searched everywhere – upstairs and down. They’re simple NOT HERE!” She cried, growing desperate.
“They couldn’t have gone far,” Dr. Hamilton muttered, distractedly, wandering out of the guest room in search of Rick. “ ‘He’ certainly couldn’t have gone far on his own, and Alex is much too small to have supported him.”
As Rick listened to the physician’s reasoning, a sudden thought struck him, and his stomach dropped. Glancing at Evy, he could tell by the look on her face the same thing had occurred to her.
“JONATHAN!!” They shouted, simultaneously. Rick held onto Evy’s arm as they dashed towards her brother’s apartment. Throwing open the door, the couple split up to search. It didn’t take long to confirm their suspicions.
“I’m gonna wring his neck,” Rick grumbled, as he joined his wife back out in the hallway.
“What on earth would have possessed him to…?” Dr. Hamilton mumbled, disbelievingly shaking his head as he joined the couple. Rick just shook his head, disapprovingly.
Evy sighed, glancing speculatively at her husband. Guessing what she was thinking, he frowned and shook his head with even more disapproval.
“What?!” Dr. Hamilton demanded, feeling acutely like he’d missed something along the way.
“He better not have taken my car,” Rick grumbled, racing toward the stairs.
“Rick, Evelyn…?” The physician persisted, following the couple downstairs.
“Ardeth just showed out of the blue,” Evy explained, cryptically.
“Right. And….,” the physician prompted.
“He wouldn’t have done that unless he were here for a reason,” Rick explained, taking over for Evy.
“All right, he has business here in England. Surely, it could be postponed.” Still not grasping the significance, the physician began to feel a bit thick.
“Likely, it couldn’t be,” Evy began to explain, but was distracted. “Rick!”
Both Rick and Dr. Hamilton followed her gaze to the front door.
“Friends of yours, I hope,” the physician muttered, slightly awestruck at the sight of the two silver-clad, Arabic-looking warriors and two burqa-shrouded, presumably, Arabic women standing just inside the entryway.
“Only one way to find out,” Rick quipped, before turning toward his wife and growing very serious. “Perhaps you and the Doc should wait here.”
“Richard O’Connell, if you think you’re leaving me here while you go…..”
Rick threw a hand up, pleadingly. “All right, all right. At least let me go first?”
Evy nodded and watched her husband warily approach the strangers.
“Um, hello, name’s O’Connell. Please, don’t hesitate to invite yourselves into my house,” Rick quipped, sarcastically. “Now, who are you and what do you want?”
One of the warriors tossed something that Rick reflexively caught. Looking down at what he held, his face reddened.
“My keys?!” He bellowed. “When I get my hands on that little….”
“I am sorry. We assumed you would be pleased to have your vehicle returned,” one of the women explained.
“He is,” Evy clarified, stepping in front of her husband. “He just has a funny way of showing it.”
The woman nodded, politely.
“I’m Evelyn O’Connell. And you are?” She prompted, hoping for better results than her husband.
“I am Zaynab. We are of the Abadi.”
“Assalamu ‘alaykum,” Evy greeted, respectfully.
“Wa ‘alaykum assalam,” Zaynab replied, with a slight bow.
“Niceties out of the way, how ‘bout you explain what you’re doing here, besides returning my car,” Rick demanded, stepping to the side of his wife.
“Rick,” Evy hissed, glaring at him out of the corner of her eye.
“We bring word of your son,” Zaynab announced, ignoring Rick’s impudence.
“Alex! Where is he?” Evy overenthusiastically lunged forward, startling one of the warriors, who protectively stepped in front of Zaynab.
‘Whoa there, big guy!” Rick defensively stepped in front of Evy.
Zaynab moved from behind the warrior, waving away his concern as he warily glanced at her.
“Please, we do not wish trouble between us,” she pleaded.
Chagrined, Evy pulled her husband back. “’Asfa. I didn’t mean to startle, uh, him.”
“He is Muhannad,” Zaynab informed them.
Evy smiled, appreciatively. “I didn’t mean to startle Muhannad.”
Zaynab bowed, slightly. “Of course not. You are worried for your son, but you need not. He is safe and well.”
Evy breathed a sigh of relief. Feeling Rick squeeze her arm slightly, she glanced over and, unexpectedly, found worry still clouding his eyes. It took a moment for her to realize why.
“He’s safe and well, but not with you, is he?” Rick questioned, drawing Evy closer to him, as she began to tremble.
Zaynab ducked her head, confirming his suspicion.
“Where is he, then?!” Evy wailed. “Why are you keeping him from us?!”
Rick tensed as Muhannad flinch in reaction to Evy’s tone. However, Zaynab placed a gentle hand on the warrior’s arm, stilling him.
“You misunderstand,” she explained, calmly. “We do not ‘keep’ him; he refused to return.”
Rick raised an eyebrow, as Evy frowned.
“What do you mean ‘he refused to return’?” She asked, warily.
“Ardeth Bey insisted the child return home, but the child threatened to follow on his own if not allowed to stay by his side,” Zaynab explained, patiently.
“Alex…,” Evy hissed under her breath.
Rick shook his head, smirking. “Yeah, that sounds like our son.”
“You’re certain he’s safe?” Evy questioned, anxiously.
“My people will watch him closely. I assure you no harm will befall him,” Zaynab soothed.
“Keeping an eye on Alex isn’t as easy as it sounds,” Rick muttered, peevishly. “So, how ‘bout you tell us exactly where Ardeth is taking our son, and, I assume, Jonathan?”
“You assume correctly. The Englishman also travels with our honored Medjai guest.”
“To…,” he prompted.
“Patience, Rick,” Evy softly chastised, afraid he’d offend the Abadi before they found out where Alex was.
“Do not worry, Evelyn O’Connell. We take no offense,” Zaynab assured, realizing the Englishwoman’s concern. “My people escort Ardeth Bey and his guests to Cairo. From there, they will travel to our village, where it is hoped you may be reunited.”
“Wouldn’t it have been simpler to travel together?” Evy asked.
“Yes, that would have been preferable, but our guest could not be delayed any longer,” Zaynab explained. “Even now, it is feared there is not sufficient time to complete the journey.”
“What do you mean?” Evy responded, her wariness increasing.
Zaynab didn’t immediately answer, taking a moment to study the O’Connells.
“Please, if Alex is heading into trouble, you must tell us,” Evy pleaded, an uneasy feeling settling in her stomach.
Zaynab held up a hand, gesturing for calm. “I assure you, your son is in no danger.”
“So why the hurry,” Rick quizzed, reflexively tightening his hold on Evy.
“As you are surely aware, Ardeth Bey is…unwell.” Evy winced, guiltily, but Zaynab choose to ignore it.
“Yes, quite,” Dr. Hamilton affirmed, abruptly jumping into the conversation. “Much too unwell to travel. Oh, my apologies, Dr. Ian Hamilton.”
‘”Doctor,” Zaynab greeted, with a small bow. “Yes, our own healer is of the same opinion. However, it could not be avoided.”
“But surely, a few days wouldn’t…,” the physician began protest, but Zaynab interrupted.
“The journey could not be delayed.”
“Yes, you mentioned that,” Evy commented, impatiently. “But why can’t it be? What’s going to happen?”
Zaynab took a deep breath, before reluctantly answering. “It cannot be delayed because Ardeth Bey is too weak to battle the fever that plagues him.”
“Exactly why it should be delayed,” Dr. Hamilton insisted.
Zaynab sighed. “You do not understand.”
“Well you’re dead on there,” the physician grumbled.
“Perhaps you can help us to understand,” Evy mediated, clinging to Rick, as a queasy feeling tickled her stomach.
“It is not difficult to understand,” Zaynab replied. “Only to accept.”
“Wait just a minute!” Rick suddenly understood. “You’re saying he couldn’t wait for us because he’s dying.”
Zaynab responded with a clipped nod. “Indeed, it is feared that, before many days have passed, his soul will free itself from his body. His task must be completed before this happens.”
“Oh…,” Evy gasped, tearfully, tightening her grip on her husband.
“What is this task, exactly?” Rick demanded, more harshly than intended.
“I am forbidden to say,” the Abadi replied, softly.
“By whom?” Came a cool response.
“By Ardeth Bey,” she answered, provoking a long string of profanity from the American.
“Ardeth, what are you up to?” Evy muttered under her breath, as her husband vented.
“It will all be made clear in time,” Zaynab soothed. “Now, if you would gather your luggage. We must arrange transportation.”
“Sounds like my cue to go,” Dr. Hamilton commented, with resignation, feeling summarily dismissed as Evy and Rick scrambled to pack.
“You are welcome to journey with us, Doctor,” Zaynab stated, seeing a frown on the physician’s face.
“No, thank you…um…Zaynab.” She bowed to acknowledge his sincere attempt at her name. “As sorely tempting as it is, I doubt it would make my wife very happy. Um…ma a sally ma.”
“Ma’assalema, tabeeb,” Zaynab replied, grinning beneath her burqa.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~