Legend of the Timekeepers (6 page)

Mica nodded, then handed the linen sack containing Kheti to her. Lilith froze. She stared at the bag, then looked at Mica. “Um, no, you take that thing with you, Mica.”

His fair brows rose. “You sure?”

She nodded vehemently.
Oh, yes, I’m sure.
Lilith pointed toward the hallway past the deep purple curtains. “Father is at the end of the corridor, in the Golden Serpent room.”

“I won’t be long,” Mica said, then winked at her. “And, just so you know, I think my life seal is dead wrong.”

“Mine too!” She-Aba snapped her fingers. “See, Lilith, I told you something’s not right with life seals lately.”

“Well, mine’s fine,” Tau said indignantly, patting his life seal resting on his chest.

Mica smiled one last time before he strode down the hallway lit with crystal clusters.

Lilith watched him leave, twisting at her coiled snake bracelet. Suddenly, she felt a sharp twinge in her belly.

“Stop spraying me, She-Aba,” Tau yelled.

“You want to attract a suitor, don’t you, Tau? You’ll never attract one smelling like that,” she said, stuffing the small vial of perfume back into her bag.

“Smelling like what?” He fanned the air.

She-Aba smirked. “Beetle dung.”

A crystal-shattering scream spiraled down the hallway.

“Father?” Lilith shouted. No response. “Mica?” There was still no response.

Tau darted down the hall first. “Do you two need an invitation?” he yelled over his shoulder.

Lilith followed Tau, her mind going in circles.

“Slow down, I can’t run very well in these shoes,” She-Abe shouted after them.

Skidding to a stop, Lilith almost banged into Tau, now stationed at the threshold of the Golden Serpent room. Her mouth fell open. Mica was gone, disappeared. His cobra, Kheti, was loose. It hovered over her father, who had collapsed on the smooth, shiny floor behind his meditation pillow. She could make out two small red streams running down the back of his hand. The seventh Arch of Atlantis hummed a queasy vibration, as if something had disturbed its frequency.

Lilith glanced up at the arch, and her eyes widened. The crystal trident her father used to activate the link between the Children of the Law of One and himself had vanished from the keystone of the arch. The etched trident outline the length of her hand now lay barren and empty, as if it had lost its soul mate. Streams of golden light haphazardly shot out of the archway, creating a chaotic cosmic light show.

Her stomach twisted as if one hundred baby snakes had hatched inside it. Cobra venom was more powerful than a white crawler’s poison. She knew that, and by the look of Tau’s ashen face, he knew that too. Her father lay dying before her. Mica was nowhere to be seen. And the thing she dreaded the most was only five strides away.

She-Aba shrieked, making Lilith and Tau jump.

The cobra turned and hissed. It made itself taller, flared out its hood, and started to advance on Lilith, Tau, and She-Aba as they stood in the doorway.

5

Time Flows Through Us

“M
ove out of the way, I’ve got this,” She-Aba said, pulling off her satchel. She started swinging it.

“What are you doing, fire-head!” Tau screamed. “That…that’s a cobra!”

“You see a snake. I see a new pair of shoes,” she replied.

The cobra reared then struck, but not before She-Aba whacked it across the head, sending the snake flying across the floor.

Lilith saw her opportunity and sprinted to her father’s side. She kneeled and put her ear to his heart.
Still beating, thank Poseidon.
She grabbed the wide meditation pillow and shoved it under her father’s head. The record keeper lying on the pillow was flung across the floor and landed in front of the glowing archway. Then she looked around for something to wrap around his hand to cut off the poison coursing through his body. She felt his body jerk and, out of the corner of her eye, saw the belt She-Aba had dressed him with being yanked away. Fighting tears, Lilith looked up.

Tau now had the belt in his hands. He wrapped one end around his hand, turned, and whistled at the dazed cobra. “Sorry, Kheti, you leave me no choice.”

Tau stepped forward and cracked the belt like a whip. But instead of hitting the cobra in the head, it returned with a smack to his nose. Blood spurted everywhere. Tau released the belt, took a few strides back until he smacked into the arch, and crumbled to the floor. He cupped his nose.

She-Aba clicked her tongue. “If you want a job done right, give it to a girl.”

She lunged for the belt and lashed out at the cobra, using the heavier end as leverage. One of the spiked metal disks struck the snake’s right eye. The serpent hissed before hitting the floor. She-Aba didn’t give it time to recover. She rushed over and, with the heel of her shoe, crushed the cobra’s skull. Its tail gyrated until there was no life left and went limp.

The Arch of Atlantis ceased showering the room with its golden lights and began to draw the light back through the archway. The humming dropped in resonance to a sickly sound, as if something inside of it was preparing to die.

“What has happened?” an old voice wheezed from the doorway.

“Istulo!” Lilith shouted. “Please, come and heal my father! He’s been bitten by Mica’s cobra!”

The high priestess gasped. She ambled over as fast as she could, trying not to get her feet caught up in her white robe, and bent down over Segund. Lilith heard her knees crackle like dry papyrus. Istulo glanced at Tau slouched on the floor coddling his face. “Is he bitten as well?”

“Tau will be fine.” She-Aba crouched next to Lilith. “Unless you think belts are poisonous.”

Istulo frowned, then examined Segund’s hand. She grunted. “I trusted Mica. I see the gods have tested me, and I have failed.”

“Why would Mica do this?” Lilith asked, aware of the sharp pains in her throat.

“He seeks revenge,” Istulo replied. “His heart is still in darkness.”

“Revenge?” Tau said through his hands, sounding muffled. “On whom?”

“On those of his past, and of Atlantis’s past. He hates the Sons of Belial, who killed his parents, and will do whatever it takes to change his future.”

Before Lilith could ask Istulo what she meant, Istulo wheezed and said, “This is bad. She-Aba, go get me a bowl of water, some linens, and the dead cobra.”

She-Aba arched her perfectly plucked red brows. “The dead cobra?”

“I need to mix a potion using the cobra’s sacrifice. Pray Ra has seen to it that I have what I need in my pouch.”

Tears now streamed down Lilith’s face. “I…I will.”

“Me too, we’re in this together.” She-Aba squeezed Lilith’s shoulder before she left to do Istulo’s bidding.

Tau groaned. “I don’t care what She-Aba says, that belt bit me. Hey, what is this?” He pointed at the small book on a tile in front of him.

Lilith took her eyes off her father for a moment. “Father’s record keeper. He uses it to scribe the messages from the Children of the Law of One.”

“Your father is a scribe?” Tau asked, wiping blood from his nose. He reached for the record keeper.

“He’s a lot of things, Tau. Right now, he’s just my father.”

Istulo started to chant. She retrieved a small, crystal mortar from her pouch, opened the dead cobra’s jaws, and squeezed the inside of its mouth near the fangs. Droplets of a yellow liquid dripped into the mortar. Continuing to chant, her gravelly voice grated against Lilith’s ears, and Lilith winced. She didn’t know what was worse—Istulo’s chanting or the Arch of Atlantis’s discordant droning. Loud, scraping footsteps announced She-Aba’s return. Her snakeskin satchel was back over one shoulder while the other shoulder was draped in white linens. In both hands, she carried a large ceramic bowl.

“Here.” She-Aba placed the bowl down by Istulo.

Segund roused. “L-Lilith,” he muttered.

“I’m here, Father. So is Istulo. She’ll heal you. Stay with me.”

His mouth opened like a naked baby bird. “M-Mica w-went th-through arch wh-while it w-was o-opened t-to our p-past. H-He t-took tri-dent. Need…it.”

“Never mind Mica, Father, you need me.”

“N-No. T-T-Time f-flows—” he attempted to point at Lilith, then dropped his hand “—th-through…us. Through…you. K-Keep t-time s-safe. F-Find M-Mica. B-Bring home.”

“What’s your father saying, Lilith?” She-Aba asked, ripping strips of linen for Istulo. She dipped one strip into the water, rolled it up, and placed it on Segund’s beading forehead.

“I’m not sure. Time flows through us. Through me. Keep time safe. He wants me to find Mica and bring him home. It doesn’t make any sense.” Lilith stroked her father’s soft beard.

Then, as if given an awakening jolt, the Arch of Atlantis started to hum louder again, outdoing Istulo’s chants. A beam of golden light, appearing in the form of a serpent’s head, shot out of the archway. It surrounded Tau, who was kneeling with his head down, looking into the open record keeper. Stunned, he let out a visceral gasp, like his insides were being torn out. His brown eyes grew big, and as if being commanded by the serpent light, he pulled a long, thin piece of crystal out of the spine of the record keeper and started to scribe inside it.

Istulo continued to chant, choosing to focus on healing Segund. Lilith was torn between the two spectacles manifesting before her—Tau, enwrapped in a golden serpent-like light, and Istulo, still squeezing liquid from the lifeless cobra. Then, as if on cue, Isulo dropped the cobra, added a dash of white powder to the liquid in the mortar, and spooned in a small amount of water from the bowl with her cupped palm.

Suddenly, Tau was released from the serpent light. He fell forward before catching himself. Shaken, he stood up, wobbled, and glanced into the record keeper.

“Tau? Are you hurt?” Lilith asked.

He shook his head. “I’m fine. But it seems I’ve scribed into your father’s record keeper, and I don’t remember doing it.”

“What’s it say, Tau?” She-Aba asked, standing. She moved to peer over his shoulder. “Hmm, looks like a jumble of beetle footprints to me.”

Tau scowled. “That’s because girls don’t know how to scribe properly.”

“Hold your father’s head up for me, Lilith,” Istulo said, her voice sounding hoarse.

Propping up his head, Lilith kept it still while Istulo poured the mixture of cobra’s liquid, white powder, and water down his throat.

“What did you take from the snake’s mouth?” Lilith asked as Istulo wiped a running drop away from his chin.

“Poison,” she replied with no emotion.

Lilith balked. “You…you made him drink the cobra’s poison? But…but that’s already in his body!”

Istulo put her hand up. “In alchemy, you fight fire with fire, Lilith. I know what I am doing. I am trained in the art of potions. You need to learn to trust. All we can do is wait now. Segund is in Ra’s hands.” Then Istulo clapped three times over Lilith’s barely breathing father and went into a trance.

Wiping her eyes, Lilith bent down to kiss her father’s forehead. The heat and stickiness melded with her lips and tasted like melted salt. Lilith fixed his shirt, slowly stood, and walked over to Tau and She-Aba. The Arch of Atlantis steadily hummed, the sound started to make her feel woozy.
Why did Mica do this?
Her fingers curled into her palms, and she sucked in her stomach.

She-Aba reached out to hug her. “It will be all right, Lilith. Istulo will heal your father,” she said in an assuring manner.

Lilith unfurled her fingers and hugged She-Aba back. She squeezed her eyes shut to wring out her tears, then opened them. She wanted to melt into the deep bronze color of the room, find comfort from one of the four huge tapestries hanging against each wall, but Tau obscured her view.

Tau looked up from the record keeper. The sides of his eyes crinkled as he caught Lilith staring at him. “Don’t expect me to give you a hug, Atcha-girl,” he said with a slight grin.

Lilith reached out to snatch the record keeper away from Tau. “Hey, I wasn’t finished reading that!”

“Is that what you were doing?” She-Aba let Lilith go. “It looked more like you were trying to understand what you scribed.”

Tau sighed. “I…I was. I don’t know the meaning of some of the words.”

Lilith looked over the papyrus pages. “Is this a riddle or poem you wrote, Tau?”

“What’s a riddle?” She-Aba asked.

“What’s a poem?” Tau asked.

Lilith rolled her eyes. “Never mind. Just listen, and we’ll try to figure out what this means—
Greedy and wicked these people have become, ignoring to follow the Law of One. Return to the City of the Golden Gates, the One who must banish evil, by the end of the first major quake
.”

Tau shrugged. “Where’s the City of the Golden Gates?”

“Yeah, and who are the greedy and wicked people?” She-Aba asked.

The Arch of Atlantis’s humming instantly changed from a low drone into a high piercing pitch. Three golden beams of light snaked out of the archway, and instead of transforming into serpents, the tri-lights burst into a vibrant spiraling rainbow and pulled Lilith, She-Aba, and Tau into the archway.

Lilith clasped the record keeper close to her heart, fearing if she didn’t, she may lose it forever. They were falling, whirling around in mid-air like drops of rain in the wind. A sense of calm, of peace, entered her mind, extinguishing her fear in that moment. This whirling rainbow was pulling her, She-Aba, and Tau somewhere, and it was ensuring her in its own way that all was well. A feeling of floating, of being light as a feather, brushed her insides, making her skin ripple. Curious, Lilith held one arm out, keeping her other hand securely over the record keeper. She tried to catch the air, slow herself down, as the spiral drew them deeper and deeper inside, as if they were being swallowed by a huge serpent.

She-Aba clenched her knees together while trying to hold her sheath and satchel down. “My clothes will be ruined if we don’t slow down!” she shrieked.

“It’s always about you, isn’t it, fire-head,” Tau said. Then he spread out his arms and legs. “Ohhh, this is how a hawk must feel when it soars!”

She-Aba grabbed Tau’s ankle with her free hand and gave him a spin. “And this…is what a flailing scarab feels like, bug-boy!”

“That’s not funny, fire-head!” Tau yelled, wobbling around.

“It is from this angle,” She-Aba replied, giggling.

Lilith’s stomach felt as if it were almost stuck in her throat. Shifting her body in flight, she maneuvered over to She-Aba and Tau. “Did the golden serpent light say anything to you while it was wrapped around you, Tau?”

Before Tau had a chance to answer, Lilith felt her body slow down, as if a sudden wind had pushed her back up, then gently lowered her down. Gaining her balance, Lilith felt the spongy ground underneath her bare feet. She-Aba’s landing was not so graceful, as she stumbled on her high heels and fell into a wide-leafed plant with pink flowers. Tau never made it to the ground. Caught in between two thick branches of a tree that looked as if it had been planted upside-down, he hung, chasing the air with his legs and going nowhere. As their surroundings became clearer, Lilith noticed that they had been dumped in the middle of what looked like a tropical forest. It was a refreshing change from the Black Land’s barren landscape.

“W-Where are we?” She-Aba asked, crawling out of the plant.

“I-I’m not sure,” Lilith replied. Her nose flared. The air smelled fresh, almost pure to her.

“Well, we’re not in the desert anymore,” Tau said, wiggling and huffing. “Could you two get me down?”

She-Aba smirked. “What’s the magic word?”

Tau stopped squirming between the branches. “Huh? Magic word? How would I know, I’m not a magus!”

“You’re not very bright, either,” She-Aba replied. “What word do you use when you want something?”

Tau snorted. “Now!”

Lilith rolled her eyes. She passed the record keeper to She-Aba, then stuck her foot into the closest, deepest crevice in the tree. She pulled herself up, found another crevice, and pulled herself up again. She looked down at She-Aba. “Go cut a vine for Tau to use to climb down.”

“What’s a vine?” She-Aba asked, frowning.

Lilith sighed. “Over there, hanging from that tree. It looks like a rope. Haven’t you ever seen one?”

“No. I live in the desert. In fact, I find it quite warm and damp here. Not the best place for my hair.”

“There is no place for your hair, fire-head,” Tau said indignantly.

She-Aba grunted. She opened her satchel, slid the record keeper in, and pulled out the metal clipper she used to cut and style hair. Lilith hid an emerging smile as she observed her friend. Walking proved to be anything but easy for She-Aba, as the forest floor appeared to want to swallow her shoes. Reaching for a long strong vine that crept around the base of a tree as if it were a snake, She-Aba sliced through it with ease, untangled it, and hobbled back to Lilith and Tau.