Wilde Card: Immortal Vegas, Book 2 (21 page)

I squinted at him, remembering Danae the witch’s words, blaming the dark practitioners for the spread of technoceuticals—but not them alone. Could SANCTUS be involved as well?

Armaeus continued, inexorably. “This new situation is different. Before this past month, I did not know these scroll cases still existed. Before this week, I did not know that hands were moving in the market to force our more immediate action, an action which we have, perhaps, resisted too long. ”

I let him spool on, but I held on to the word that struck me most out of his little speech.

Still
.

He didn’t know that the scroll cases were
still
in existence. Which meant he’d thought they were destroyed. Which further meant, based on his earlier comments about the Temple of Thoth, that he might very well have been the one who’d attempted to destroy them.

“What exactly are in these scroll cases, Armaeus?” I asked. “Why does it matter who has them and where?”

He turned to me. “The scroll cases, in and of themselves, are unimportant. Based on the images that Simon sent me, however, the ancient inscriptions on the side are not warnings not to partake of what is within. On the contrary, they are invitations. Not all gods in the faiths of this world believed that knowledge belonged solely in the realm of the deities. The monarchs and their advisors needed that knowledge as well, to rule their people.” He waved a hand as if to include everyone outside the room. “To rule all people.”

“And…the recipe for that knowledge is what’s left in the scroll cases? Sort of an Evil Empire 101?”

“Not exactly.” Armaeus’s smile was thin. “For explanation, look no further than the ancient texts, starting with the Bible. ‘And God said, let there be light.’ Everyone focuses on the last part, never on the first.”

“’And God said’?”

He nodded. “What resides—potentially—in the scroll cases is the language of the Highest Power ever to affect the world and all who reside in it. It is the language that brought the world into creation. The language that could bring it to its end.” He tapped the table, displaying the ancient city of Hermopolis in high relief. “And the key to that language lies here. Grigori Mantorov is going to my home, Miss Wilde. I grew up amid the ruins of the Temple of Thoth, and I witnessed its final destruction. Whether he knows it or not, he has brought this conflict to my very door. And in such a way that I cannot ignore it.”

“Bring on the cavalry,” Simon said, slapping his hands together.

But Armaeus merely stared at me. “The Council has long allowed the affairs of man to cull the strength of magic. That is how it has been, and that’s how it shall be, once this crisis has passed. For the moment, however, a different course must be taken. We must reclaim the balance between the dark and light, ignorance and knowledge, death and life. And we must do that while preserving the wards that have kept this Earth safe from an even greater threat for millennia.” His gaze intensified. “It appears we’ll be working together on this assignment, Miss Wilde. I trust that won’t be a problem?”

“Oh, geez, not at all.” I spread my hands. “I mean, hey, at least this time if a Connected dies in the line of fire, she’ll have signed up for it, versus having been herded blindly to her doom. That’s progress right there.”

Chapter Nineteen

There’s no easy way to get to El Ashmunein, aka Hermopolis, aka the ancient Egyptian town of Khemenu. We flew into Hurghada Airport, south of Cairo, where we boarded another much smaller plane to avoid the five-plus-hour trip by car. I’d slept for as much as one body could possibly sleep without being in a coma, but though I was completely rested, my head still carried the residue of astral travel pain. I saw no reason to open my eyes while we angled down to the patch of dirt that apparently would serve as our landing strip.

Across the cabin, Armaeus watched me. He knew I was awake, and he knew that I knew that he knew. Things were starting off well for our first joint assignment.

“How long has it been since you’ve traveled to ol’ Hermopolis?” I asked without opening my eyes. I liked talking to Armaeus this way. Much safer.

“I prefer the name Khemenu, named after the eight gods it honored. And not for many years.” Which, with Armaeus, could mean a couple of centuries, but I let that go. “There is nothing left on the ground that will help us, if that’s what you’re asking. What wars have not torn down, the city’s government has. They say it is for building materials or religious reasons or whatever other excuse governments use to destroy the past in order to build up the present.”

That did cause me to open one eye. A smile flickered over Armaeus’s face, quick and hard. “So if there’s nothing left, what are we looking for?” I asked. “I don’t recall there being any tombs opened up in this neck of the woods recently.”

He shook his head. “Khemenu was not a city of death to the ancient Egyptians. It was one of birth. One of their principal creation myths was centered here. I believe Mantorov is heading here, in part, because of that myth.”

I straightened in my chair, coming more fully back online. At the far end of the cabin, Simon snored lightly in his own chair, cradling his laptop.

“Creation how? What was their take on it?”

“Like many of the first civilizations, Egyptians believed in the concept of a family of gods that existed before the dawn of Earth and man. The Ogdoad was a system of eight deities, dual entities consisting of four pairs of gods and their consorts.”

“Okay, makes sense.” In the Tarot, four was the most stable of the Minor Arcana cards, so it wasn’t surprising that the number showed up in a foundational creation myth. “Male-female aspects of the same element or whatever?”

Armaeus nodded. “Nun and Naunet ruled the element of primeval waters; Heh and Hauhet held sway over eternity; Kuk and Kauket were the deities over darkness; and Amun and Amaunet represented air, or that which is hidden. Of the four sets, Amun alone went on to have a role beyond the original Ogdoad.” He smiled. “According to the myth, these eight deities—water, eternity, darkness, and air—interacted, creating an enormous explosion. That burst of energy was released at a mound in Khemenu, originally called the Isle of Flame, causing it to rise from the water. At that point, the sun was born. There are conflicting stories about how, but one of the most popular was that a cosmic egg was created by the gods of the Ogdoad. When it opened, it revealed the ‘bird of light,’ an aspect of the sun god Re, who went on to create the world and everything in it.”

“Fair enough. But there’s nothing left of the buildings or this mound? No statues or obelisks or anything to point the way?”

He shook his head. “There are statues, of course. The city became an important center of worship of Thoth, and statues in his honor remain.” He twisted his lips. “You can view them easily from the Christian basilica erected near the site of the old temple.”

“Okay…” I thought more about it. “Water, eternity, darkness, air. Which all got together one day and combined to make an enormous explosion, resulting in an island of fire to add to the mix. So, water, fire, air, darkness, and, um…ternity.” I scowled at him. “Do not make me utter the phrase ‘The Fifth Element’ twice. I’m not strong enough.”

“All the elements necessary for a new birth—except one. The words to make it so.”

“‘And God said…’”

He nodded. “But Mantorov has the words now, or thinks he does. He merely has to locate the right place in Khemenu where the energies aligned once before, and say the words.”

“Somewhere on the Nile, has to be.”

“In a manner of speaking.” He tilted his head. “How are you feeling?”

I instantly tensed. Having Simon along for the ride had proven to be the perfect chaperone for this trip, but the moment Armaeus’s attention sharpened on me, my body responded. His touch was truly like a drug. A really good drug, with generally pleasant side effects so far. Except for that unfortunate total mind-numbing dependence part. Other than that, pleasant. “I’m pretty good.”

He sighed. “Why do you resist me? I have been honest with you.”

I almost barked the laugh. “You’ve not been remotely honest, but thanks for playing.” I waved around the cabin. “This little excursion is the closest I’ve seen you get to an honest reaction since we’ve met.”

He lifted his brows. “Do you believe so?”

“Tough to fake being pissed.”

“And because I am not angry with you at this moment, you immediately mistrust what I say or do.”

“I don’t know what you are with me.” I leaned forward in my chair. “You’re my employer. We have a connection which you’re happy to exploit, and I’m happy to let you. But the fact that you’re able to put me back together again doesn’t take away the fact that you’re also able to take me apart. Don’t think I’m not aware of that.” I waved my hand around my head, as if warding off a fly. “And stop with the mental pressure thing, Armaeus. I already have a headache. There’s no room for you in my brain.”

He stared at me, exasperation creeping into his gaze. He leaned forward too, and I shifted back, trying to keep an exactly perfect distance between us.

Simon breathed out a deep, contented sigh. “I so love it when you two fight. It makes it feel like home.”

Armaeus didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge Simon. “I won’t assault you, Miss Wilde. That would void our arrangement, and I have no interest in doing that. However, I need you to be at your sharpest for what is to come.” He grimaced. “To achieve that, I need more cooperation than you have been willing to give.”

“Yeah, no.” Still, there was no denying the pain rocketing through my brain. “I’ll settle for slightly less agony, and slightly more sharpness, if you can do that while keeping your shorts on.”

He didn’t give me a chance to change my mind.

Moving quickly, he closed the last bit of space between us and reached his hand to my face, cupping my cheek and jaw. When I naturally shifted my head away out of some innate sense of self-preservation, his other hand came up, trapping me.

Light exploded inside my skull. My gaze was transfixed by the golden intensity of his eyes and my ears registered that he was speaking words, words I should follow, words I should track. But all I could see was the burst of light that seared through my brain and lifted me off my chair on a wave of electrical jolts that seemed likely to catch my hair on fire. Something caught my attention, and I dropped my gaze to his lips, lips that were still moving. Soft, sensual, incredible lips. They had roamed my mouth, my face, my body before, drawing a line of fire over and around and through me. And now they were whispering to parts of my inner self that typically didn’t get a chance to chat back. Even my ankles practically vibrated with sensual promise, my entire body jacked up on a live wire of energy and want and—

He pulled his hands away.

I slumped in my chair, gasping. The Fool did too.

“Please tell me you’re going to do that to me next,” Simon breathed.

Armaeus ignored him, straightening. “The trip to the temple will be a short one. It’s currently a barren wasteland, but beneath it—deep beneath it—flow the waters we seek.”

“What, the Nile?” My voice wasn’t working quite perfectly, and I tried again. “That seems a fair distance away from the temple ruins, based on the map I saw.”

“The isle of fire erupted out of the water, but water was essential to the creation of it. The Nile is not a river that prefers to stay in its banks, and that was yet truer in the time of Ancient Egypt.”

“Meaning?”

But Armaeus didn’t seem to be listening to me. “Water is the source of all life in Egypt. It is the source of creation. It moves, and creation moves. It is not a fixed point. Regardless of where the river now flows, what we are more interested in is where it flowed during the time of the Old Kingdom and what aquifers it fed. ”

I couldn’t shake the idea that Armaeus was talking in a deeper, more resonant tone the closer we got to Khemenu, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. Bad, I suspected.

I drew in an experimental breath. There was no pain anymore, anywhere in my body. It had been replaced with an almost maddening electrical hum.

My gaze found Armaeus’s again. “You did something to me that went beyond Excedrin Migraine, didn’t you?”

“Do you feel better?”

Panic fluttered. How much had he seen? How deep had his touch gone? “I don’t know how I feel.”

“Are you in pain?”

“No.”

“Then that’s better, wouldn’t you say?”

“I’m still waiting for my blast of mojo over here.” Simon’s voice was petulant, but it served to pierce the tension building between Armaeus and me.

The Magician regarded the Fool with amusement. “Simon’s powers extend well beyond what he would have you believe. And,” he said meaningfully, “he is not in any pain.”

The Fool groaned. “So you all keep telling me. But so far all I can incarnate is mad code and naked teleporting.” He sighed. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” He stood and stretched, then ambled off, muttering about the unfairness of it all.

“
Can
you do that to him too? That energy jolt?”

“I could, but it would not be necessary.” Armaeus shook his head. “He doesn’t need more electricity flowing through his veins. When he took on his role of Fool, he became pure energy. He recognizes the exchange in others, desires it the way that like appeals to like, but he doesn’t need to expand his own current.”

“So he’s a mini Electro?” I let my gaze wander to where Simon had left his laptop. “No wonder he goes through so many computers.”

“Where he fails is in recognizing the most profound of his gifts,” Armaeus continued. “The Fool whispers in the ear of others, suggests the unthinkable, prompts the unexpected leap of faith. He is not meant to
do
, he is meant to compel others to do.”

“Yeah, well maybe he enjoys being more hands-on.”

“Like this?” He reached out and drifted a hand over my shoulder. Every nerve in my body leapt, as if aligning to a lightning rod. I was drawn instantly alert, short of breath, my heart pounding, my brain fully engaged.