The Concubine’s Tale Page 7

Benak-Ra fell to his knees in supplication as a fine mist swirled forth from the open jar. Beside Khanu, Nayari struggled feebly in the arms of her captor as the white vapor settled around her mouth and nose. A moment later she hung limp in the soldier’s arms, her eyes open and lifeless. Khanu screamed, cursing the name of Ammonptah for all eternity. With the last of his strength, he reared back, holding his breath to avoid breathing in the poisonous smoke the magistrate had released.

  Despite his efforts, his lungs seemed to still, and his heart slowed. His vision dimmed, then brightened momentarily, and he felt himself floating toward Ammonptah.

  Something brushed against him, and he sensed Nayari. Her voice, strong now, renewed, reached his thoughts. “I’m here, my husband. I am with you always.”

  He turned, but saw nothing but her lifeless body and then his own. Ammonptah’s soldiers lowered them to the floor, but Khanu felt nothing.

  “It is done,” the wizard said. “Close the jar.”

  Khanu searched for Nayari as darkness closed around him, and once again he heard her voice. “I am with you forever, my warrior.”

  Grant shivered involuntarily. He didn’t want Cait to know how deeply the story of the ill-fated lovers had affected him.

  He stole a glance at her and she looked away, wiping her eyes with a trembling hand.

  “Good story,” he said. “I wonder how much of it is true.”

  “The ancient Egyptians didn’t write much fiction.”

  “No, but Layton obviously did. His wild speculation doesn’t diminish the value of the scroll, though. Tell Mr. Greer I’ll be bidding on it. And I intend to have it.”

  Cait nodded. “I’m sure he already knows.”

  Grant hesitated a moment, drew his fingers over her shoulder and up to the graceful curve of her jaw. “I should be going. We both have to get back to work in a few hours.” He hated to leave her, but he had a lot to do. If even half of what Layton wrote was true, there were far more valuable objects than the scroll that were yet to be found. He kissed her once and found he wasn’t too tired to be turned on by the taste of their lovemaking that still lingered on her lips. He forced himself to ignore the start of an erection and slipped out of bed. “Don’t get up. You sleep. I’ll call you.”

  She blinked up at him, her bottom lip caught between her perfect teeth. He’d seen that look before. She didn’t believe him, and he needed her to. He bent and kissed her again. “I promise. I had a phenomenal time tonight. I don’t care what Greer says. I intend to do this again.”

  Cait sat in her office three days later staring at the phone and hating herself for wishing Grant would call. She’d heard nothing from him, and neither had Mr. Greer, who seemed to be glaring at Cait more than usual. She supposed her boss thought she’d somehow talked Grant out of bidding on the scroll. Maybe she had. Giving him all of Layton ’s wild speculations might have turned him off. Perhaps he’d only said he still wanted the artifact to be polite while he was climbing out of her bed.

  How could she have been so dumb? Grant Pierson, after all, was what he was. Eccentric, arrogant, fantastic in bed-but he’d used her. At least after the auction today, she’d know for sure how royally she’d screwed up.

  “Are you ready?” Jeri asked after a polite knock on Cait’s half-open door. “They’re here.”

  “Who’s here?” Cait’s heart began to thud. Would Grant have the audacity to show up at the auction now? Would he have some half-assed excuse for not calling her? She whipped out a makeup mirror and reapplied her lipstick under Jeri’s scrutiny.

  “There are at least five clients in the auction room. Greer is strutting around like a peacock. You’d better get in there and keep him from losing his feathers.”

  “Right.” Cait smoothed her skirt and scooped up the newly printed auction catalog from her desk. Head high, her shell of professional aloofness intact, she headed for the auction room with Jeri on her heels.

  Grant sat in the chair nearest the display case, his dark head bent, studying his catalog. Cait remained at the back of the room, her eyes boring holes in his skull. The nerve of him to show up without even saying hello!

  Matthew Greer stepped up to the small podium from which he conducted his auctions. He nodded to Cait, who dimmed the lights in the room, and he began his spiel.

  “Normally I would leave the most exotic object on the roster for last, but since several of you have other pressing engagements, I’ve decided to begin the bidding with our newest and most interesting item.” While he went into a brief but detailed description of the scroll, Cait zoned out, her mind on the evening she’d spent with Grant. He hadn’t even turned his head in her direction.

  A tap on her shoulder startled her when the bidding began, and she turned to see Mack, one of the gallery’s independent auditors, standing at her side.

  Tall and rugged, he resembled a blond Indiana Jones more than a buttoned-up bean counter. Cait liked him, especially his crisp Australian accent.

  “G’day, love. You’re looking pensive this morning,” Mack said, his slate blue eyes sparkling.

  “This is a big sale for the gallery. If it doesn’t go well, I’m sure I’ll get some flack for it.”

  “No worries, love. You’ve got some players out there.” Mack leaned casually against the wall, taking in each of the clients that had begun bidding on the scroll. Cait noticed Grant seemed to be holding back. He hadn’t made a bid yet.

  “Players is an interesting choice of word,” Cait mumbled. Fortunately Mack didn’t seem to have heard her. His attention seemed to be on a dark-haired woman in the front row who had jumped into the bidding with a vengeance. Cait tuned into the price war, scanning back and forth as different clients raised their hands or nodded to Mr. Greer. The bidding had reached several hundred thousand dollars when Grant finally raised his hand. The other clients seemed shocked that he’d joined in, and Mr. Greer seemed pleased that someone was going to jack up the price even further. In the end, to Cait’s dismay, it was the dark-haired woman who won the bidding after pledging an exorbitant sum. Mack nodded his approval and left Cait at the back of the room. She watched him congratulate the beautiful young woman, holding her hand just an instant too long. Grant smiled ruefully as he shook hands with Mr. Greer, and the two men exchanged a few words while Mack led the new owner of the scroll to the back where she could pick up her purchase.

  Grant still didn’t look in Cait’s direction, and finally she left the auction room, annoyed at herself for caring what Grant Pierson did or didn’t do.

  Jeri appeared at her office door again half an hour later. “That was the fastest auction ever. They’re all gone.”

  “All of them?” Cait tried to sound casual.

  Jeri nodded. “We must have made a mint, because Mr. Greer is ordering lunch for everyone. Do you want Thai chicken or Tandoori beef?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  The soft knock on her door at half-past seven that night startled Cait out of a deep reverie. She’d been half asleep, her arms around a fat pillow, the television blaring an old romantic comedy she’d seen half a dozen times. Her mind had been in Egypt, with the souls of two tragic lovers who dared to break the rules of their complicated society.

  She yawned and unfolded herself from the couch, brushing cookie crumbs from her blue sweatpants. Panic swept over her when she saw Grant’s dark eyes peering back at her through the security lens in her door.

  “What are you doing here?” She hadn’t wanted to sound angry, but the words slipped out, loud and sharp.

  “I’m here to apologize. I had to leave town for a few days before the auction, and I didn’t have a chance to call you.”

  Yeah. There was the lame excuse she’d been expecting. “Ever hear of a cell phone?”

  “Please let me in, and I’ll explain.”

  She sighed. Her body told her to let him in, invite him back into her bed which seemed cold and lonely without him these past three nights. Her head told her to open the door just enou
gh to slam it closed on his toes. Besides, she looked like hell. How could she let him in when she was wearing laundry-day clothes? Her T-shirt bore a drop of pizza grease, and her underwear-not that she’d let him see it, of course-consisted of a pair of holey white briefs and her most comfortable sports bra. Her hair hung in braids, and she wasn’t wearing a scrap of makeup. He’d be shocked to discover she didn’t always wear satin and lace.

  Reluctantly, she opened the security chain and flipped the lock below it. She opened the door a crack, and he held up a bottle of wine and pointed to the cork. “Not screw top,” he said.

  “That’s not much of an explanation.”

  “I’ve got something else for you. Something you’ll find amazing. If you let me in.”

  Oh, please. Spare me. “All right.” She stood back, and he slipped through the narrow opening.

  “God, you look great,” he said handing her the wine.

  “I’m not in the mood for flattery.”

  “Seriously. You look adorable. I thought you only wore those uptight business suits.” He grinned at her, and she noticed he wore jeans and a T-shirt too. He had a book and a file folder under his arm and a corkscrew in his pocket. Or maybe it wasn’t a corkscrew.

  “What’s up, Grant? Why did you ignore me at the auction?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to get you in trouble with your boss.”

  “You could have said hello.” Her tart reply seemed to affect him. He looked contrite, staring at her with those bottomless brown eyes.

  “You’re right. I could have. I should have. If it means anything, you were on my mind. I didn’t like that Mack the auditor was chatting you up.”

  “He wasn’t. Were you jealous?” Cait stifled a satisfied grin.

  “Extremely. I couldn’t wait to get you alone. I have something to show you, and a question to ask you.”

  Cait set the wine down on the kitchen counter and crossed her arms over her chest. This better be good, she thought. She didn’t like the way her resolve to stay mad at Grant seemed to disintegrate so quickly.

  He opened the book he’d brought to a page marked with a bright yellow sticky note. “Here it is. This is the only reference I’ve found to the Soul Jar.” He pointed to a small footnote at the bottom of a page of nearly microscopic text. “The author mentions a rumor about a jar fitting Layton ’s description having been found in the ruins of a small, obscure temple in Coptos. The jar disappeared shortly after it was uncovered.”

  A shiver of anticipation ran down Cait’s spine. Could the jar really exist? “Do you think the jar can be found?”

  “Apparently it’s already been found. After losing the auction, I decided to contact the woman who outbid me for the scroll. I wanted to make sure she had plans to display the item publicly, and I managed to find out a little more about the Soul Jar and the fate of Nayari and Khanu.”

  Cait’s breath caught. Could it be that the lovers had somehow managed to survive after all? She nodded to the wine bottle in Grant’s other hand. “Open this while I put on something a little less comfortable. This, I have to hear.” She handed him the wine and a glass, and he popped the cork.

  On the way to her bedroom, Cait silently berated herself for letting Grant in so easily. She should have made him suffer a bit in exchange for leaving her hanging for so long, but the prospect of finding out what had actually happened to Nayari and Khanu overshadowed her annoyance.

  She shed her sweatpants and T-shirt and unbraided her hair while rummaging through what little was left in her underwear drawer. She slipped on a lace bra and panties and shrugged into a wrap shirt and a pair of sexy jeans. Let him drool, she thought as she breezed back out into the living room.

  Grant sat on the chair across from the couch. He’d opened the file on the coffee table and was sifting through papers. The corners of his mouth lifted in a sly smile when he looked up.

  “You didn’t have to change for me.”

  “I didn’t…” Lie. Lie. Lie. “I changed because…never mind. Tell me what you found out. Who was that woman who bought the scroll?”

  “Her name is Bree Sennett. She’s a collector of Egyptian antiquities, and apparently she’s seen the Soul Jar, even held it in her hands. These pages are notes I made of the conversation I had with her today.”

  A tingle of anticipation feathered up Cait’s spine. Whether it was caused by Grant himself or his story, she couldn’t tell.

  “So what happened to the jar and to Nayari and Khanu?”

  Grant handed her a wine glass. “Take a drink first. You’re going to need it.”

  Time had ceased to exist for Nayari and her warrior. For eons, it seemed, they knew nothing but an endless void, a darkness through which only their thoughts reached each other across a deep, terrifying chasm.

  This was not the coveted afterlife of which they’d been taught. Of that much, Nayari was certain. The priests and acolytes, and even Baakah and the servants in Ammonptah’s household, had spoken of a glorious heaven where the gods bestowed blessings and generous gifts on the souls of the departed. She’d long imagined that when her time on earth ended, she would be reunited with her mother and father and the siblings she’d left behind in her native land.

  Perhaps somewhere that heaven did exist, but now Nayari despaired of ever reaching it.

  Little held meaning in their isolated netherworld until the light came to them. Nayari could not have said if a year or a thousand had passed while she waited, longing for nothing but the occasional brush of Khanu’s mind against hers and his gentle reassurances that one day they would be free.

  She’d felt nothing for so long that the sensation of being torn away from the darkness frightened her. She cried out to Khanu, and his voice reached her through a swirling mist that replaced the endless blackness.

  “Stay with me, my love.”

  “What’s happening? Are we finally free?”

  There was no answer at first, and then the world began to form around her. For the first time in longer than she could dare remember, Nayari saw. She saw the rough walls of the temple room and smelled the heady aroma of incense and the dry, stale scent of old stone.

  In a frenzy, she whirled around, searching for her warrior, calling to him. When she turned, what she saw made her long for the safety of her dark prison. Ammonptah stood behind a narrow altar, his dark-skinned hands wrapped around an alabaster jar.

  Free of her confines, unchained and unencumbered by the strong arms of the ruthless guards, she had one chance to seek her revenge against her former master. Nayari flew at him and reached out her hand to touch the fine linen that lay above his black heart.

  Terror blanched Ammonptah’s skin. His eyes bulged, and his breath rattled in his lungs. Behind him hovered the faint outline of a broad-shouldered warrior-Khanu! He placed his hands on Ammonptah’s throat as if to squeeze the life from him, but almost instantly, the magistrate slumped forward. His hands fell limp, and the alabaster jar rolled away from him, nearly to the edge of the altar.

  “The spell has failed.” Khanu’s voice rang in Nayari’s ears, and her heart soared. “We’re free.”

  “But what have they done with us?” Nayari felt the warmth of the flickering torches on the wall and tasted the incense smoke on her tongue…yet she couldn’t see her own hands or her body. She remembered lying on the floor of the temple, too weak to move, wishing only that the end of her suffering would be swift.

  “There.” Khanu’s vaporous hand gestured to a dark-haired body reclining on the floor. A woman. Above her stood a man, tall and slim, with hair the color of spun gold. Both were dressed strangely and speaking words in a language Nayari had never heard before.

  The man reached down and pulled the woman up from the floor. Their hands were clasped tightly together, and that gesture arrowed to Nayari’s core. These were lovers, seeking escape from Ammonptah just as she and Khanu had.

  Without exchanging another word, she and her warrior moved toward the couple. It seeme
d natural somehow, to settle within these foreign bodies and take temporary residence there.

  Nayari felt Khanu’s hand in hers, and she nearly wept at the sensation. When she looked up into the eyes of the golden-haired man, they were no longer foreign. The eyes of her husband stared back at her, and Khanu’s lips curved in a smile.

  He pulled her to him and kissed her until the chill of their long incarceration faded to nothing. She sank into the strong arms of her warrior, reveling in the touch that had been denied them for so long.

  Suspended time came rushing back at them all too soon, though, and Nayari was the first to see the brilliant light of the nether world beckoning them. She dragged her needy lips away from Khanu’s and pointed over his shoulder.

  “We need to go now. We’ve been trapped here long enough,” she said.

  He squeezed her hand once, then together they stepped away from the borrowed bodies and moved into the light where the gods waited to welcome them into life everlasting.

  Cait wiped at the corners of her eyes when Grant finished his story. Part of her wanted desperately to believe that the ancient lovers had finally found peace, but part of her remained skeptical.

  “How does this woman know this? None of this was part of the narrative on the scroll.”

  Grant’s eyes sparkled, and Cait wondered if he were playing her. This couldn’t be true, no matter how satisfying it was to know that Nayari and Khanu found peace together at the end of their long imprisonment.

  “She was the woman in the temple.”

  Cait took a deep sip of wine. “Seriously?”

  “She claims she found the Soul Jar, though she wouldn’t tell me where. When it was opened, the souls of the lovers escaped, and finally, after three thousand years, they passed into the afterlife.”

  “Do you believe that’s what happened?” Cait asked. Even though the events he’d described seemed too fantastic to be real, they felt right somehow.

  “Yes, I do.” Grant set his wine glass down. He collected the papers and slid them back into the file folder. “I offered her double what she paid for the scroll, but she turned me down. At least she promised it would be put on public display along with the Soul Jar, which has been given back to the Egyptian government. The bad news is, we’ll have to go to Cairo to see it.”