Part 8
Same day - evening
Cairo, Bijan’s home
1999
Cecelia peered into the small shopping bag the restaurant had given them, and then glanced over at Jamie with a knowing smile on her face. “Are we trying to feed an army or just one handsome warrior?” she teased as they reached the front door of Bijan’s home.
“Make that one stubborn warrior and bingo; you got it,” Jamie laughed as she juggled her own bag while searching for the house key. “I thought to order some extra in case Eric and Zayn would grace us with their presence today. Is it me or do they seem obsessed about reading those manuals you told me about the other day?”
Cecelia pursed her lips as Jamie opened the door. “Obsessed is a good word,” she mused as they walked down the tiled foyer. “How about fixated?”
“Same thing,” Jamie said as they walked into the living room.
“Engrossed,” Cecelia offered with a laugh.
“Same thing,” Jamie turned around and spotted Eric and Zayn on the couch. “Hey guys,” she started to say but stopped when they heard Sharif’s cry.
“Shit,” Eric cursed as he shot off the couch and bolted towards the sliding glass doors. “That sounded bad, real bad.”
“What’s going on? Where is Sharif?” Jamie called out fearfully.
“In the garden,” Zayn replied and ran over, grabbing her hand. “Ija, we need you.”
With Cecelia behind them, all four people raced out into the court yard and frantically began searching for Sharif, unaware of who they were about to discover instead.
~*~
“Yaha,” Makin cursed and unceremoniously shoved Bijan aside. “That was Sharif…”
The warriors, Traveler, and detective ran through the wrought iron gate and flowed out into the garden’s courtyard, stopping in abrupt amazement when they came across the other concerned and frantic occupants of the house.
For a few tense moments each side studied the other, and Cecelia’s face paled when she recognized one of the large warriors standing next to Bijan. “I know him,” she whispered as memories from another time came flooding back.
…Jameel’s eyes widened in surprise at her sudden outburst and he glanced over at a tall, silent warrior who stood watching over them, his arms folded across his huge chest. He shrugged helplessly and the warrior coughed once to hide his laughter. “She is nervous, ya ukh,” he had explained.
“Indeed,” Makin had murmured…
“Where is Sharif?” Bijan snapped impatiently.
“He was resting here a few minutes ago,” Zayn pointed to the bench as his gaze swept over the area looking for any indication where Sharif could have gone.
“Well he’s not resting there now,” Bijan fumed and jabbed a finger at the Traveler in an unexpected display of anger. “You were supposed to watch over him, yet once again he disappears while under your care.”
“Mind your actions, Guardian,” Lahab warned. He could feel the tension emanating from the two men and placed a restraining hand on Zayn’s shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze. “Traveler Zayn is a highly respected Traveler and we should allow him the opportunity to…”
Zayn bristled from Bijan’s accusatory tone of voice and squared his shoulders, his dark eyes blazing as his own temper flared. “I have done everything in my power to return him to his world, going beyond the boundaries of my duty.”
Makin turned away from the disputing combatants and found Cecelia staring up at him in wide eyed wonder. A slight smile curved his lips from her reaction and he gave her a slight bow of respect, knowing that this was the woman who unwittingly held his chieftain’s heart. “Ya sitti,” he murmured. “I wish our reunion had happened under pleasant circumstances.”
“I remember you,” Cecelia whispered and reached out, touching Makin’s large forearm. It felt real and incredibly solid and she almost felt giddy with relief. She glanced over at Jamie, unable to hide the goofy grin on her face. “I know him,” she repeated.
“I would hope so,” Jamie quipped as she stared at both of the massive warriors, wondering if they were all that large in Sharif’s world.
“Ajab…I must ask, do you know where Sharif is?” asked another warrior that Cecelia didn’t recognize. The kindness in his eyes took away the blunt edge to the tone of his voice, and she responded with a negative shake of her head. “Jamie and I were out buying lunch, and had just gotten back when…”
Another cry shattered the awkward gathering and propelled Jamie into a frantic flight. “Over here!” she called out as she ran towards a shady spot located in the south corner of the home. She ignored the warning shouts from Bijan and Zayn and ran down the tiled walkway, determined to save Sharif.
“Cease your quarrelling. Now is not the time to discuss the other’s responsibility,” Emir crisply ordered Bijan and Zayn as they followed the others. “The life of a warrior hangs in the balance, and I refuse to lose Sharif Rafe due to the incompetence of a Guardian and Traveler.”
“But I can save him,” Zayn exclaimed. “I have a theory that may work whereas normal procedure has failed.”
“A theory?” Lahab asked as he trailed behind everyone. “What possible theory could there be that has not already been discussed by the Elders and the council in regards to a degeneration?”
“Now is not the time for theories,” Bijan hissed when they approached Jamie and Cecelia. Eric stood next to Makin and Solman as they crowded around something lying on the ground in front of them. “Sharif does not have time for theories…”
“It would appear that Sharif may not have time for anything,” Eric stated sadly. “Game over, man. Game over.”
~*~
“No,” Jamie whimpered as she tried to reach for Sharif, but Bijan looped his arm around her waist, holding her back. She fought against him, desperate to reach Sharif before he completely disappeared, but his form was shimmering and fading too rapidly. “Let me go, I have to help him. Please!”
“We must let this take its predetermined course.” Bijan tried to sooth a distraught Jamie as she bucked against him. “Touching him will only make it worse.”
“No!” Jamie shouted as images from her reoccurring dream tormented her. Sharif’s form was growing weaker as the transition continued at an alarming rate, and it broke her heart to see the defeated look in his eyes.“Release her,” Zayn sternly ordered and pulled on Bijan’s arm. “This is part of my theory and it could work; I have done the research.”
“Bijan – let her go, it may help Sharif,” Emir said.
“It may not,” Lahab interjected, still puzzled over Zayn’s reference to a ‘theory’.
“Ya saHib,” Makin whispered sadly as he and Solman edged closer to their warrior brother, their best friend. They knelt down and both warriors tentatively reached for him as Sharif raised his hand…a hand with the fading marks of their tribe.
“Musa’adi…ana,” Sharif begged as the outline of his body grew fainter.
“Someone please help him,” Cecelia urged and turned to Eric. “Do something,” she pleaded with tears in her eyes.
Eric pulled his gaze from the horrific sight of Sharif dissolving to Jamie caught in the power struggle between Bijan, Zayn, and a stranger; each heatedly arguing with the other and oblivious to everything else. He looked at the two large warriors kneeling close to Sharif, and he knew that somehow they were more than just good friends; their grief over losing him was most profound. He heard one of them whisper, “Sharif ya sahib” over and over, and the recent lessons in Arabic provided the necessary translation.
“Eric?” Cecelia asked.
“Aw hell. Ya know everyone may hate me in the morning for this but…” Eric muttered as he hurried over to Jamie. He pulled her from Bijan and Zayn’s grasp, and before they could react, he gently pushed Jamie to Sharif hoping…no praying that his friend’s theory was right.
With a small cry of happiness, Jamie ran to Sharif moments before his body vanished. She ignored Bijan’s angry shout of denial and darted around the two warriors hovering over him, pushing aside any lingering doubts. This was part of her dream, and now it was terribly real. The outcome had to change…it must change! She couldn’t let Sharif die, not before she told him what was in her heart.
As soon as Jamie’s hand touched Sharif’s almost nonexistent body, a bright light flared up and temporarily blinded everyone and they turned away, shielding their faces until the glow disappeared…and all they heard was the frantic sound of Jamie’s voice…
“Breatheforme…breathe…one…two…three…c’mon…breatheforme damn it…oh please…one…two…three…”
~*~
Six days later
25 miles southwest of el-Dakhla Oasis
Ruins of Foreign Legion Fort Reliance near the deserted town of Balad min Amal [Town of Hope]
Dusk
“Toto, I’ve got a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.”
“Why do you keep saying that, Eric?” Zayn asked as he stared out at the rolling landscape situated well beyond the narrow view from his cell window. His arms hung partially through the bars and he could feel the day’s heat dissipate, much like his hopes of being released.
“I dunno,” Eric shrugged. He was sitting a few feet away in one corner on the dirt floor, mindlessly throwing small sticks and pebbles to idle away the time. He was tired, dirty, confused, and he swore something unsavory had crawled into his ‘borrowed’ robes, irritating him right above his navel. “Just seems appropriate considering the circumstances, and somehow I don’t think you wanna hear my rendition of “Swing Low Sweet Chariot” again,”
Zayn smiled faintly as he turned away from the window. “If your previous performances are any indication of your meager talent, loud and off-key, then by all means, please do so. I relish the opportunity to remind our…hosts that we are still here and waiting patiently for a meeting.”
“Explain to me why these Helper Sect guys would step in so aggressively in a matter that doesn’t concern them?” Eric asked as he scratched his itchy skin, instantly regretting that he had naively believed the robes came from a clothes line in a downtown Cairo neighborhood. They needed a thorough cleaning and he grimaced at the thought of what or who may have worn them previously. However, Zayn had stressed the importance of blending in with the culture, and Eric had to agree – no one in this world wore Wrangler jeans or Nike sneakers. He just wished Zayn had warned him about how coarse the fabric truly was, especially where it rubbed against certain ‘parts’ of his body.
Eric would have gladly sold his soul for a container of talcum powder.
“Helper Sects do what the title implies – they assist in whatever is required and whenever the need for them arises, and it is mostly with the Warrior Sect. They are the contacts with the ‘outside’ world and keep the Warrior Sect informed of activities, especially near certain historical cities that have been deemed rich in archeological heritage.”
“Gotcha. And they kidnapped us why?” Eric prompted.
Zayn sighed and turned away from the window as a frown creased his brow. The weight of his responsibilities seemed heavy on his shoulders this night and he wondered if he had made an error in judgment by bringing back those who didn’t belong. “Helper Sects have guidelines or rules if you wish to call them, which date back over three thousand years designed to keep our society out of public interest. If something bad should happen within our civilization that could alert the world to our presence, all of the sects are put on alert and ordered to maintain a code of silence. I believe something has most likely happened since we were apprehended to enforce this silence.”
Eric leaned his head back and hooted with laughter, earning a look of concern from Zayn. He wiped a tear from one eye and finally elaborated moments later. “It just struck me as kind of funny – ‘something must have happened.’ Gee, do ya think? That’s like when you told me not to wear underwear under these robes, which by the way I’m commando here and I’m telling ya it ain’t liberating. And don’t say it’s because cotton wasn’t invented yet because I’m not buying into that, okay?”
“You are digressing, ya saHib,” Zayn said softly as he walked over and sat down next to his friend.
“Damn right I’m digressing, all this waiting around is driving me friggin’ nuts,” Eric grumbled and flung a handful of dirt against the far wall in frustration. He remained silent for a few moments, and then finally turned to Zayn, his green eyes troubled. “Dude, they herded us through that market like we were camels, and never gave us a chance to explain. They took Cecelia and Jamie in another car and God knows where they are right now…” his voice trailed off since he was unwilling to voice his fears over the women’s safety.
Zayn sighed and placed a hand on Eric’s shoulder, wishing that he could impart more than just comfort; he wanted some answers as well. “Never before have I seen the city in such a state of organized chaos,” he mused softly, easing back against the stone wall. “My people seem afraid to travel the streets, and I cannot contact the one Helper who was assigned to help with this transition. It is as if he has disappeared.”
“That’s not very comforting to know, Zayn,” Eric muttered.
Zayn nodded as his mind drifted back over the past several days, trying to mentally pinpoint or discover a glaring indication that all was not right in his world. The journey through the desert, which could have been a difficult trek, had been made much easier thanks to Emir’s generous donation of supplies and his new found confidence. The departure from the other world had effectively silenced any further criticism from Bijan and Zayn had felt redeemed in his role as a Traveler. With Lahab’s blessing, he had easily guided the small party out of one world, and into the next, believing that he was fulfilling his role and sacred duty to his king and to his people.
Problems arose even before the sand had settled, and before anyone could object, Commander Jericho ibn Sakhr appeared like a mirage to whisk away his warriors, including a weary and still recovering Sharif. Despite Jamie’s tearful protests or Zayn’s claim to have the authority to take the missing warrior back to the Citadel, Jericho reluctantly ordered his warriors to leave. To his credit, he tried to soften his immediate departure with a few words of reassurance, but they lacked the substance needed and only served to unnerve the small party of time travelers.
“If you’ll pardon the expression, it seems the proverbial shit has hit the fan in your hometown, my man,” Eric said. “Here I am promising Cecelia and Jamie that I would take care of them, and that I wouldn’t let anything happen to them. Some protector I turned out to be.”
“You are a good friend, Eric,” Zayn firmly stated. “Do not let this temporary setback disillusion you.”
Eric snorted. “Temporary setback? If you call us being stuck in this stockade a temporary setback, then I can’t wait to see how you’ll react if and when our good hosts ever decide to talk to us.”
Zayn frowned at Eric, and chose to ignore his comments. “In reference to your colorful metaphor regarding the current situation at hand, I can only assume that this is the beginning of the trouble. The Helper Sects are acting according to ‘Ramiq Waqa, il Dau nur ikhtafa’ or roughly translated, ‘Darkness has fallen, for our light has vanished or disappeared.’ It is a code phrase used among the sects when a tragedy has occurred,” Zayn stated. “If the portal between the worlds now stands unguarded since Jericho and Emir’s warriors were pulled from duty this means the enemy has been able to explore the rift in preparation for future use. Without knowing for certain what has transpired during my absence, all I can offer is that my chieftain must be in grave danger for the warrior sect to no longer have any authority.”
“I really hate this; I just want to know what’s going on,” Eric stated very softly after a few tense moments of silence. His shoulders had slumped slightly and he was unable to meet Zayn’s gaze. “You get us dumped into your world, promising that there would be people here to greet us and help us get situated and so far, it’s been a rollercoaster ride of sleepless nights, hot days, and…” Eric paused and jabbed a finger at the cell’s door and the guard that waited a few feet beyond. “Unfriendly locals.”
Zayn shifted on the hard ground as he settled in for another long cold night spent in the cell, folding his arms across his chest. “Have faith, ya sahib. The Helper Sects would never harm a Traveler or those in a Traveler’s care, no matter the danger.”
“Yeah but this ‘grave danger’ is something no one wants to elaborate on, but instead would rather remain delightfully ambiguous about it,” Eric retorted.
The two men lapsed into silence for a few moments, one filled with a multitude of doubts and concerns for himself and his friends, the other wondering if the life he had previously known, the friends and comrades he had come to care for were gone forever…
“So Zayn, my man,” Eric said a few minutes later, his gaze skimming around the dusty cell as he attempted to lighten the mood; he had to for it was in his nature. “Any possibility of getting room service in a joint like this?”
~*~
A/N - sorry for the lapse in updates. Upon returning from vacation, real life has gotten more complicated, if possible, but happily I’ve been able to get some key scenes squared away in the past few weeks. Oh, and if you think the ride has been bumpy now, you ain’t seen nothing yet. [evil grin}
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The Other Side – Part 9