Dancer of the Nile (Gods of Egypt) (16 page)

Moving with practiced skill and speed, he nocked another arrow, aimed and shot while the hyena shrieked defiance and crumpled in midair. The animal landed hard on the incline below him, red, rage-filled eyes locked onto his, front paws scrabbling at the dirt as if to pull itself toward its prey. Kamin shot again, hitting the center of the throat. The hyena fell on its side, sliding into the stream, where it twitched once before dying.

Black ooze foamed from the animal’s wounds, eating into the ground, and where it had fallen into the stream, the water boiled away, noxious steam rising to the sky. Keeping his eyes on the second hyena while he climbed the hill in a sideways motion, like a crab, Kamin made his retreat, bow at the ready.

Nima caught his arm when he reached the top. “Did you see what happened when it died?”

He nodded, moving her behind him. Lifting its head, the other hyena howled, a long mournful cry, then loped away, back across the dunes.

“Killing its pack mate must have scared the creature off,” Nima said.

“Not likely.” Kamin checked the carcass in the stream, which continued to deteriorate, becoming mangy fragments of skin and gray bones. “At least they
can
be killed.”

Renewed howling from more than one throat sounded in the distance.

“Oh, goddess, there must be a whole pack of them,” Nima moaned.

“We need to run
.
” Kamin suited action to the words, pushing her ahead of him. “We’ve got to find somewhere defensible. If they catch us on the open plain, we’re done for.”

Nima risked one quick, sidelong glance at him as she ran. “How many arrows do you have left?”

 
“Not enough. It took three to bring the first one down.”

Nima sprinted, Kamin falling slightly behind to play rearguard. The howling sounded closer, an excited, frenzied tone to the call. Tapping her shoulder to gain her attention, Kamin pointed. “Head for the small rock formation to the left. It’s the only thing of any significance anywhere. We can fight them off from there.”

He slowed, falling behind, taking his archer’s stance and letting an arrow fly. Stumbling dangerously, Nima risked a glance behind her, then tried to run even faster toward the jutting rocks.

 
The pack caught up to them snapping at their heels, flanking them as they ran. Kamin shot to cripple, trying to reduce the numbers and prevent the animals from getting in front and blocking their escape route. The pack stopped in yelping confusion, milling around their injured mates, while Kamin and Nima sprinted the last few yards to the rock formation. First one, then another hyena trotted after them, lengthening their strides to catch up.

Slinging the bow over his shoulder, Kamin threw his packs onto the rocks and gave Nima a boost to the potential safety of the boulders. Bolder and faster than the rest, one hyena darted forward and jumped, catching her by the ankle and dragging her screaming to the dirt. She landed hard, flat on her back. Kamin’s dagger was in his hand in the blink of an eye, and he plunged it deep into the animal’s side, through the heart. Taking a deep breath, hooking his hands under the beast’s chest, he threw the carcass away from Nima, using the dead beast as a weapon to topple another oncoming hyena as it tried to spring at him.

Bending, he jerked her up from the ground, maneuvering her onto the first level of the rock formation, where she landed on all fours with a grunt. Kamin clawed his way up to stand beside her.

“Come on, we must get higher. We’ve seen how they can jump.” He got his hand under her elbow and brought her to her feet.

Screaming in pain, Nima collapsed. Kamin lifted her in his arms and precariously climbed further onto the rock formation. A moment after he left the first plateau, the hyenas were making unsuccessful attempts to leap onto the surface. The howling and barking were deafening.

Kamin got to the next nearly flat area of the rocks and set Nima by the wall, where he could defend her. Taking a quick glance to make sure the hyenas were still stymied by the rocks, he knelt beside her. “What’s wrong? How badly did the creature hurt you?”

“My foot, my ankle,” she gasped through streams of tears.

“Let me see, move your hands.” Kamin whistled as he scrutinized her injuries more closely, heart sinking.
 

Black streaks ran from the bleeding gashes up her leg under the skin, toward her knee.
Some kind of poison in their bite? How are we going to counteract such vileness?
White-faced, Nima appeared on the verge of throwing up or passing out or both. Quickly, he tore a piece from his cloak and poured water on the cloth, gently cleansing the wounds. “Apparently, the beast didn’t clamp down at full strength.”

“Hard enough.” Biting her lip, Nima swayed.

“You still have a foot,” Kamin pointed out in grim tones as he tore another strip to bandage her wound and stop the bleeding. “The pack’s behavior has been odd, as if they aren’t trying to kill us. Once the beast had you, neither it nor its companions moved in for the death blow.”

“Thank the gods.” Brushing her hand across her forehead, Nima pushed loose strands of hair aside.

He craned his head and listened for a moment. “It’s too quiet. Can you finish tying this bandage? I need to see what they’re up to.”

“I’m fine, go.” Nima knotted the cloth at her ankle above the bone.

When he walked cautiously to the edge of the small plateau, Kamin was greeted by a renewed chorus of unearthly howls. The twelve remaining animals paced and circled at the foot of the rock formation. The corpses of the ones he’d shot or stabbed were bleeding out the black ooze and decomposing. Returning to Nima’s side, he knelt, pulling her into a slightly off-balance embrace.
 

She leaned into him for a moment before kissing his cheek. “What do we do now? How do we escape?”

Good news first. She’s pretty fragile right now
. “The pack has been whittled to twelve,” he said.

“Formidable odds, even if they aren’t trying to kill us. Maiming is apparently within their purview.” She grimaced.

He considered what he’d seen of the pack, restlessly pacing and howling on the ground below them. “These aren’t normal desert hyenas. Such creatures are smaller, not as aggressive.”

“And don’t bleed black ooze,” Nima added. “So, where did these come from?”

“I’m thinking black magic, called up by Qemtusheb’s priest, the one Thala warned us about at the caravan encampment this morning.” Kamin eyed the bandage.
Had her wounds stopped bleeding yet?

Nima averted her eyes with a shudder as he lifted the edge of the cloth. “Black magic. Are you serious?”

He nodded. “I’ve seen manifestations before, when the Usurper Pharaoh ruled. “

She wrinkled her forehead in puzzlement. “But why did the priest send these creatures after us?”

“To track us, pen us somewhere until the Hyksos can follow his magic to our location.” Kamin shrugged. “Amarkash must be getting desperate to catch us since we’ve managed to keep one step ahead of him all this time.”

Rubbing her arms, Nima shivered. “We can’t stay here, then.”

“No.” He stood, going to where he’d tossed his quiver. It took a depressingly short time to tally his resources. Showing her the quiver, he said, “Five arrows left. And twelve hyenas. Even if I cripple one with every shot, I can’t hope to defeat the final seven in hand-to-hand combat.”

***

Picking up one of the arrows, Nima ran the stiff, brindled feathers through her fingers. “How long do you think we have till the Hyksos arrive?”

He took the arrow back, placing it with the other four. “Probably not too long, since they have chariots.”

A familiar keening sounded overhead. Checking the sky, Kamin watched a falcon drifting on the thermals.

Following the direction of the bird’s cry, she asked, “Do you think Horus will help us?”
 

Shading his eyes, Kamin regarded the bird. “He’s certainly come to our aid before.” The hyenas set up a renewed chorus of angry howls below, apparently stirred to a frenzy by the appearance of the falcon.

“I wish I had a patron goddess to call upon,” Nima fretted, fingering the clay bead on her amulet. “Divine assistance would be helpful right now.”

Reaching to lay his hand over hers on the bead, Kamin had a question. “Didn’t you say your mother beseeched her goddess for one future intervention on your behalf?”

“Yes, but I don’t believe her plea was granted.” She frowned, withdrawing her hand and smoothing her hair with a nervous gesture. “I
 
told you, I screamed my throat raw, appealing for help the night I was captured in Hebenar, and received no divine aid.”

He captured her hand again, lacing his fingers with hers. “These things have to be asked for in the right way, sweetheart. Great Ones can be inaccessible unless approached carefully. I swore an oath to Pharaoh and to Horus, and the god and I have a long history, which is probably why he’s been so willing to assist to a degree.”

“I don’t even know which goddess to appeal to,” Nima answered crossly.
Is my lack of knowledge fated to doom us? Why didn’t I ever press the issue with her?
Because she’d been a child and her mother had had a tenuous hold on life, so fragile that even a child knew not to raise certain topics. Tears blurred her vision. “My mother never uttered the Great One’s name, much less explained how to invoke her.”

He hugged her. “Are you willing to try an appeal now?”

How can I refuse, when not only my life but his depends on this chance?
Resting her head against his chest, Nima nodded once. “I’ll do anything you ask of me.”

“I was an observer at a ceremony for Renenutet, the snake goddess, once,” Kamin said. “And clearly your amulet relates to one of her aspects.”

Shutting her eyes for a moment, Nima shuddered. “Yes, but I’m terrified of snakes.”

“If the goddess is attuned to you and if she sends her serpents to aid us, they won’t turn on you, I swear. What do we have to lose?” He held her away from him, gazing into her face.

I must look at death’s door, his face is so worried.
“Magic for magic.” Nima smiled weakly, hoping to reassure him. “What do we do?”

“I’ll have to cut the amulet off.” Reaching for his knife, Kamin raised one eyebrow, waiting for her permission.

    
Extending her arm, Nima swallowed hard. “If this doesn’t work, I can restring the bead later.”
Assuming there is a later for us.
 

    
Carefully, he inserted the tip of the blade under the knotted black leather cords and slashed the bracelet free, catching the clay bead as it fell. “Do we have any bread left?”

“You’re hungry at a time like this?” Reaching for the packs, she rummaged through the contents, snatching a piece of the caravan cook’s flat bread to offer him.

“Renenutet is a goddess of grain and harvests. Bread is the closest to a proper offering we can get on this rock.” Holding the bead carefully, Kamin rose and walked to the edge of the rock shelf, checking on the hyenas. A chorus of shrieking sounds rose as he peered over the precipice. “Still prowling. I have no real hope of their giving up and slinking away.”

“Sounds like they’re laughing at us,” Nima said, rubbing her bare wrist. “Like demons, enjoying our predicament. What do we do now?”

Setting the bread in the sunniest spot on the rock, Kamin laid the bead in the center, pushing it into the soft bread and coiling the broken ends of the black thong in a circle. “I need one drop of your blood, sweetheart, so the Great One hears the call through your bond with her—”

“I keep telling you there’s no bond, no link, nothing.” Nima held out her hand, closing her eyes. She gritted her teeth. “Go ahead, prick my finger.”

Nothing happened. Puzzled, braced for the pinprick, she opened her eyes to find Kamin oddly hesitant. Bewildered, she studied his face for a moment. “What?”

Pointing the knife at her ankle, he explained his insight. “I’m thinking a drop of your blood from where the hyena bit you might be better. Then the goddess would be aware of the black magic as well.”

Nima picked at the edge of the bandages he’d just applied. “You have a certain grim logic to this insane idea, soldier. Should I be concerned how much you know about black magic?” Removing the makeshift bandage, she gazed at him with a furrowed brow and wrinkled nose.

Wincing in obvious sympathy, he studied her foot as the bandages fell away. ”I’ll try not to hurt you.”

“The whole foot hurts and throbs, so don’t worry about one more prick.” She shut her eyes tight as he gently touched the tip of the knife to one of the angry, long, red slashes left by the hyena’s fangs and got a few drops of her blood on the blade. The black lines had not progressed much further up her leg, for which she was grateful, but they were a jarring, disquieting occurrence nonetheless.

Sharp pain for a brief moment, then Kamin stood. “I’m done. Cover the wound up again.”

Hastily, she wrapped the cloth over the gashes and bruises, tying a neat little knot.

As Kamin moved the knife slowly over the bead, Nima watched first one then two drops of the ruby blood fall onto the raised snake on the bead’s surface. The red ran to cover the entire bead without dripping off the edges. Kamin laid the knife aside and spread his hands out, palms up. “Great One Renenutet, we pray most earnestly for you to send us thy servants, the black cobras of the rocks, to kill the hyenas waiting below. The beasts were released to hunt us by priests of Qemtusheb, ruler of demons and enemy of Egypt. We ask for the one intervention Nima’s mother begged for, when she left your service so many years ago. Our need is dire, and Egypt’s fate may rest on our shoulders.”