CITY OF THE GODS: FORGOTTEN (37 page)

Looking down, Set slowly shook his head from side to side.
 
“I expect better answers than that.” He held out his large hand and placed the palm of it on her torso. Red lightning erupted from his hand and coursed through Aavi’s mid-section. She contracted with pain like she had never felt before. Fire ran through her entire being, burning her from the inside out. When it stopped, she lay panting as the burning feeling faded away.

Set stroked her pained face gently. “Now, let’s try again. Surely you must remember something of how you got here. Just tell me, and I won’t have to hurt you.”
 

“Please, no! I think I remember falling, maybe,” She wasn’t sure if she actually remembered falling or if that was something that D’Molay had suggested.

Set held his open hand out over Aavi’s belly.
 
He could see her stomach muscles tighten up and her hips try to turn away as she looked up at him with horror and fear on her face. Then he smiled. “I’ll accept that for now. But you had better start searching the corners of your mind for better answers.” He put his fingers on her stomach and stroked the spot where everyone else had a navel, but she had none.

Aavi closed her eyes and tensed for the worst, but Set did not shock her this time.
 
“No navel. Isn’t that interesting? Do you know what that means, Aavi?”

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. He was still gently running his smooth, cold fingers against her belly.
 
“It - it means I’m different from everyone else.”

He smiled menacingly at her this time. “Do you think so? Yet you seem to suffer pain just like everyone else. I’ll tell you what I think. It means you were never born, Aavi. Never.” Set looked at her again, knowingly.

She looked at Set with complete confusion. “H-How could I never be born?”

Set backhanded Aavi across the face, causing her head to swing wildly on the stone slab. “Did I give you permission to ask questions? I did not.”
 
Set put his large hands on either side of her face and then turned her head, so she was facing him directly. “I know what you are, and I think deep down you know as well. But before we get to that, I want you to tell me what you think you know. Then we’ll move on to what you don’t think you know. One way or another, I’m going to find out everything there is to learn about you. Then you will serve me. I already own your body, but I need to control all of you.
 
Then, who knows.”

She was shocked by the speed at which his anger rose. The slap had hurt, but Aavi knew Set could do far worse. Her fear was strangely mixed with intense curiosity. Set and Kafele knew what she was. If only they would just tell her! Then she felt his hand on her torso again.

“Let’s try a question I know you can answer. Who has been helping you since you got here?” She felt him press his palm just a little bit firmer against her stomach as he waited for an answer.

“I-I don’t think I should tell you. You might -” Her statement ended in an agonized scream as Set sent the red lightning through her again. She cried and writhed trying to get away from the pain, but chained to the slab she had nowhere to go. Then he stopped and her stiffened body went limp.
 
She moaned in pain as tears began to fall from her eyes.

“Wrong answer. Don’t make the easy ones more difficult my dear. We have much more complicated questions yet to come.” Set wiped a tear from Aavi’s eye as she looked up at him, trying to recover from the burning pain that wracked her body.
 
She was still shaking.

He placed his cool hand on her belly again and she felt the wetness of her single teardrop on his finger.
 
She had to give Set some kind of an answer or he would hurt her again. “K-Kafele helped m-me at first. And D’Molay.”
 

Set pressed on her belly again. “Who else?
 
A pretty thing like you surely has many friends.”

“Well, Mazu took me to Buddha’s Retreat.
 
She was nice to me.”

“Mazu. Very interesting. I’ll have to find out more about her. Who else?” He drew very close to her face, his red eyes narrowing.
 
Some of this had been told to him by Kafele, but now he was really discovering who her true allies might be.
 

“Es-huh, Namtar’s servant at the slave den. She was kind to me too. S-she taught me about being a slave and dressed me in - in this outfit.”
 
Aavi nodded, trying to point with her nose towards the rest of her body.

“Quite fetching,” Set sneered. “What about the goddess Lamasthu? Did you see her?” His eyebrow went up as he asked. Perhaps he could catch his dubious ally in a lie.

“No. I’ve never met anyone with a name like that.” Then she remembered something.
 
“I-I think Es-huh told me she was going to visit them.” She hoped this was the right answer.

Set knew that Lamasthu’s visits to the Slave Den were very rare, so he decided this was probably all Aavi knew on that subject. “All right. Who on the Council is helping you? Tell me.”

“I don’t know what you -” Once again her body was ravaged with the burning pain of the red lightning. Set quickly let up though, as if he changed his mind about hearing the rest of her answer. Aavi’s head and stomach were in agony and the pain was not easing.

“D-D’Molay said he worked for the Council,” she whimpered, “but I don’t know anything about them. I never met them or anything, really.
 
Please, that’s all I know!”
 

“I suppose I can believe you. The Council only thinks it knows what goes on in the City. Now, Kafele told me you were going to Earth. Why were you going there? What was your mission?”
 
Once again she felt him place his hand on her belly.

“Because the Oracle told me to. I-I don’t have a mission.” she answered simply.

“There’s more to it than that!” Set shouted, loosing more of the painful red lightning into Aavi.
 
She screamed as her entire body shook and the fire burned deep into her bones. Even when he withdrew his hand she still felt the burning and stinging inside. It was like there were giant ants inside her, crawling around and biting her. She couldn’t stop herself from shaking as she tried to breathe, which was getting harder to do after each punishment. Set grabbed her hair and turned her face towards his. “What was your mission?”

Her eyes filled with tears as she had no answer to give him. She didn’t know anything about Earth or a mission.
 
“I - I don’t k-know.” she sobbed.

“You do know! You must!”
 

As Kafele hurried back to the prison with his healing kit, he could hear Aavi’s screams. A steady red glow was visible where the bottom of her cell door gapped above the stone. He rapped on the door.

“Milord, it is Kafele. I have returned as you ordered.”

“Enter.” Set’s voice was slightly muffled behind the closed door, but there was no mistaking the impatience in its tone. Kafele took a deep breath and went into the cell. Set waved a hand toward Aavi. “As you can see, I have started. Check her. I have many more questions to ask.”

Kafele nodded silently and moved toward Aavi. Her body was visibly perfect as always, but she was now unconscious.

Sitting on the edge of the stone slab, Kafele put his bag down and put his hand on Aavi’s chest. “She still lives,” he told Set. “She has fainted from the pain. Without rest she will be unable to speak again.”

Set’s arms crossed in irritation as he leaned back against the wall. “Awaken her. This is a prison, not a rest home. If I get a few more answers, I will heed your advice. I don’t want her dead, at least not yet.”

Kafele took a small green bottle from his bag, opened it, and waved it under Aavi’s nose. For a second, nothing happened, then she started to cough and a gush of blood poured from her mouth. Kafele feared that she had suffered more internal damage from the energy blasts then Set had planned.

“Kafele?” she said weakly after he wiped the blood away, noting that the residual smudge seemed to immediately disappear. No wonder Set was being more ignorantly brutal than usual. His strikes weren’t leaving evidence of their harm.

“I’m here. Can you move?” He took her chained hand in his and squeezed it to see what her reaction might be.

Her brow furrowed. “It hurts, but . . . yes.” Her eyes seemed to be unable to focus, but then she looked at Kafele and smiled a little. A pang of guilt ran through him like a hot knife had been stabbed in his heart. He dropped Aavi’s hand and stood up.
 

“Just answer Set’s questions, you silly girl, and there will be no more pain.”

As she followed him with her gaze, Aavi could see Kafele’s aura glowing. It was a swirl of red and yellow. She could see that he still cared for her, but the red in his aura overpowered the yellow. “I’m trying to answer right,” she said meekly.

“She is ready, my lord, but I cannot guarantee she won’t faint again. She bleeds inside. You need to be careful my Lord, too much might kill her.”
 

“Do not dare to tell me what I should do. Wait outside and close the door.”

D‘Molay found his way to Set’s temple and even reached an inner entrance, but his good fortune ended at the large, well-guarded door.

“I don’t care who you are, or what pass you have. There are no exceptions,” the zealous guard said sternly.

D’Molay realized he wasn’t going to sway the man by logic or guile. Once a deity had commanded a loyal servant to a task, that minion would rather die than fail his or her god.
 
He should have known he would need a more ambitious plan. “I see. Well, you have your orders.
 
I understand.” He counted four guards at this post, armed with pikes, daggers and swords. He only had his knife. That and his skill might be enough to beat them, but a fight would raise enough noise to bring even more of guards. Attacking would be a stupid and deadly move that wouldn’t help find Aavi. He stepped back. “Sorry to bother you.”
 
D’Molay went back the way he’d come, already formulating his next move.

He quickly made his way back to the upper floor hallway where he had met with Sekhmet just a few days ago. The goddess had promised him a favor, and it looked like he was going to need it. Nearing her chambers, he passed a priest and three guards, but they paid him little heed. He arrived without incident in front of the unattended door.
 
It was large, golden, and embossed with the image of Sekhmet's cat-like face. D’Molay wondered if he should knock or just go in. Taking the dagger from his scabbard, he tapped loudly on the door with the rounded metal end of its hilt.
 

He cringed as an unexpectedly loud ‘bong’ from the strike echoed through the passage. D’Molay looked nervously in both directions up and down the hall, expecting the arrival of angry guards, but none appeared. Nor did anyone come to answer the door. “Maybe cat gods don’t answer doors.” D’Molay grabbed the handle and pulled. The door opened easily and D’Molay stepped into the familiar darkness of Sekhmet’s antechamber.

“Hello. Is anyone home?” D’Molay called as he walked into the torch-lit room.

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