The Rift Walker (18 page)

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Authors: Clay Griffith,Susan Griffith

BOOK: The Rift Walker
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A
S THE WEEK
passed sailing up the Nile, Gareth was forced to retreat to the hold of the boat. The air was livid with heat that sapped his vigor and his wits daily, leaving him panting and weak. When he was able, he read from the book that Adele had bought. During the worst baking midday heat, he used the blanket from the market in Cairo. It was an invention used primarily by the army; its chemical coating gave off cooling vapors, but it only lasted so long and this one was already fading.

When Gareth opened his eyes, he saw the wooden beams of the ship's hold above him. His shirt was open and damp, a wet rag pressed on his forehead. He tried to rise but only managed to make it to one elbow, cursing the weakness that seeped through his frame. He couldn't remember ever feeling so helpless and sick. He fell back, breathing roughly, sweat dotting his skin, the back of his dry throat convulsing as his nausea flared. He lay motionless, trying to think of what needed to be done, but his brain was consumed with fatigue. Footsteps sounded on the ladder, and Adele came down with a bucket dripping with water.

She knelt beside him. “You're awake! I've been frantic.” Her cold hands touched his fevered face and offered a respite. She sank the cloth in the water and then pressed it against his skin.

“How long?” he muttered.

“Almost a full day. It's evening now. I've put to shore.”

“It's still hot,” he panted.

“I know. It was blazing today. It will cool off soon.”

He nodded, willing himself to stay awake. Despair ate at him. He had hoped to leave the boat to try to find food. He must feed soon or he would be unable to move. And then he would die and Adele would be alone.

“There's a town ahead,” Adele said. “It's not very big, but I'm sure we can find you someplace better than this stifling hold.”

“It's too dangerous. We were lucky in Cairo, only a hairbreadth from discovery.”

“I'm willing to take the risk!”

“I'm not. I won't be of any help to you if we're discovered. There are airships everywhere. And we've seen the river patrols every night. It's only luck that has prevented us from being boarded. And I'm certain I've seen a boat following us.”

“You're exhausted. I haven't seen anyone following us. Every boat on the river looks alike to you.” Still, Adele knew that Gareth was extraordinarily observant. If they were being trailed, pulling ashore for the night could be disastrous. Better to continue through the night.

She would have to stay awake. Gareth was too weak to sail. His skin was sallow and his eyes glassy, as if he were running a fever. His cheeks were peppered with a raw rash from the heat. Even the water of the Nile was slowly becoming ineffectual at keeping him cool. It terrified her.

“I'm not going to die from the heat,” he assured her. “It won't be much longer.”

“It's been three days since you last fed from me, and I'm fully recovered.” Adele rolled up her sleeve on the arm that was unmarked by his teeth. At his hesitation, her hand stroked his cheek, gazing into his light eyes. “You worry too much about me. But can't you see that I'm fine with this? I'm offering and I gladly give it. I'm frightened of losing you. You can't even stand. Please. For me.” She kissed him. It was a gentle caress to him, though she pressed her lips hard against his.

“You can never lose me,” he said softly as she pulled slowly away. He felt her hand against the back of his searing neck.

“Then show me.” She again offered her wrist to him, her olive skin even darker in the filtered moonlight while he appeared a pale wraith. His exhale shook with longing as he lifted her arm and quickly sank his fangs just deep enough to catch the shallowest of veins. Adele stiffened for a moment and then relaxed as she grew accustomed to the rhythm of the feeding.

Gareth lay on the deck losing himself to the intensity of her life-giving blood. The spice of her anxiety for him spoke clearly, as did her robust devotion. He could feel his awareness becoming sharper, his body stronger. The blood sang with power and filled him with sensations both bad and good. As it seeped through him, his own blood caught the awareness of what she was in body and spirit, and the dreadful strength of which she was capable. No human's blood had ever told such a story of marvelous life and complete death.

Gareth listened carefully to Adele's pounding heart. It didn't take long for it to start laboring. She was exhausted too. The feedings, combined with working in the unforgiving heat, were draining her. Afraid he would hurt her, he let go and sank back. He needed more blood, but he refused to place her in harm's way. The fitful feeding would have to be enough.

“Thank you.” His eyes closed as the call of misery-free oblivion beckoned and he willingly gave in to lethargic slumber, conserving what strength her blood provided. He would rise when the desert air had released its taxing heat and allowed the land to cool once more.

Adele watched him slip away from her into what she hoped was just sleep. She tied a quick bandage over the small wound on her wrist. Usually, Gareth was the one to do that for her, always thinking of her first. The fact that he was barely aware enough to feed, much less worry about her, was frightening. She soaked the rag again before placing it on his forehead, hoping it still offered him some relief.

There was still much to do tonight. Adele was almost too tired to eat, but she knew she had to keep up her strength if she was to continue her vigil. Wearily she shoved herself to her knees, but not before she kissed his damp forehead.

 

As days passed, Adele became even more worried for Gareth. There were times he lay as if dead down in the hold, motionless, his chest barely rising and falling. It was difficult to rouse him. She now knew how those legends had started about vampires lying dead in tombs until the fall of night, when they rose from the grave. His pale skin was much too warm and positively brittle, and his cheekbones more prominent.

However, at long last, the huge statues of Abu Simbel rose on the west bank with the sun glaring behind them. They were deep in the south now. The air patrols had thinned in the last few days, and the River Guard were much less apparent. The maw of the temple's entrance promised a dark interior. It would be stale, but cooler than the boat. Gareth desperately needed a chance to rest and regain his strength.

Adele was shaking with relief that help was so close as she veered the dahabiya for shore. Thanks to the old Aswan Dam, the water of the Nile almost lapped the very face of the huge temple. She didn't see any sign of occupation, and her heart sank. Colonel Anhalt wasn't here waiting, as he had promised. Disastrous scenarios ran through her head—perhaps the colonel had been discovered aiding her escape and had been arrested; or he had failed to convince his men to accompany him; or he had failed to arrange transport; or the worst possibility, that he had decided not to help her, that he could not abandon his oath to king and country.

She took a deep breath to calm useless fears. One step at a time. She would get Gareth into the temple first. Then, they would wait. She had to assume Colonel Anhalt would come. If he didn't arrive in a few days, she would form another plan. He had chosen Abu Simbel because it was an excellent place to hide. Up until a decade ago, it had been an extensive military compound, but when that base was moved to Wadi Halfa, it left the temple precinct isolated.

Adele didn't dare bring Gareth out in the heat until she knew this place was unoccupied by anyone, or anything. If the temple was cool enough to succor Gareth, it could very well be cool enough for other vampires. She knew the creatures lurked everywhere. She hastily anchored the boat, shoved her Fahrenheit dagger and one of Gareth's pistols into her belt, grabbed a lantern, and went ashore. She dipped her head in gratitude as she approached the four colossal seated figures towering a hundred feet over her. She could only hope that their old friend from the British Museum, Ramses, looked down kindly on them. She passed between the immense thrones, while far above, the Watchers of the Dawn, a row of stone baboons, raised their hands to the sun. They worshipped the rising sun, as it was believed that they had a hand in helping the sun god Ra defeat the darkness of night.

After a cursory exploration, Adele was satisfied the rooms were free of unwanted visitors, and so she returned to the boat. The sun had set finally, and just now the first bright stars began to appear in the pink sky. She slipped belowdecks and knelt beside Gareth, pressing her hand on his chest as much to rouse him as to once again reassure herself that he was still breathing.

“Gareth,” she called softly.

His breath deepened as if trying to wake. It took another minute before she could get him to open his eyes to look at her.

“It's dark,” he muttered. It wasn't a question, but a whisper of relief. His body trembled and his skin burned.

“We've reached Abu Simbel. It's nice and cool. You'll like it. It's a ruin.”

Gareth managed to sit up dizzily as Adele tried to get a shoulder under him. Together they stumbled up to the deck. The heat was still oppressive enough to make Gareth shudder and pull back.

“It's not far,” she urged him. “It will be better once we get inside.”

His head nodded as he slumped against her. Gareth let her guide him to the side of the boat. He collapsed to the deck, but managed to swing his long legs over the side. Adele jumped into the calf-deep water and helped him over. He didn't even notice the water as he sank to his knees before Adele grabbed him. Struggling up the sandy bank took energy, but soon they reached the temple. The moment they staggered inside, he immediately noticed the difference. He drew in a great lungful of the slightly cooler air and sagged against a column.

“It's even cooler farther in,” Adele urged him.

That was all he needed to hear. Gareth stumbled after her, keeping a hand on her shoulder at all times to steady himself. They shuffled down a long, sand-dusted passageway, and Adele could tell he was getting stronger. She sighed gratefully.

She turned to the left, toward one of the wings out of the path of the sun, which would shine all the way to the back during a sunrise. They went as far back as they could, and Gareth sank to the floor with his hands pressed against the hard earth as if he could siphon cold up from the very ground. His loud gasps of relief were a welcome sound to Adele. She knelt beside him, holding him tight.

“Thank you,” he gasped out weakly. “This is good.”

“I'll be right back. I'm going to bring in some supplies.” She rose, but he gripped her hand tightly for a second. She leaned over him, her lips brushing against his hair. He slowly released her hand.

Adele retrieved her lantern, and a half hour later they had what they needed. She left the small stove in the main chamber near the door to vent the smoke, and because there was no reason to heat up Gareth's room any more than necessary. Finished with the small chores, she hurried back to him. To her surprise, he was standing near a far wall. His body was not plagued by the weakness of before. She couldn't help but marvel as he began to revert to the man she knew. As soon as she stepped inside, he turned toward her and reached out. She gladly went into his arms.

“Thank God,” she whispered.

“How cool is it outside?” Gareth took deep breaths just because he could. With it came the scent of Adele, robust and earthy. He hoped, if the night was cool enough, to go out to feed. With any luck, he could happen upon another wanderer or farmer.

“We have another couple of hours till the heat dissipates. I'm afraid you're stuck here with me for a bit.”

Adele continued to talk to him, but it was hard to hear over the rush of her blood coursing just inches away. He was stronger now and it was hard to deny his drive to feed. Still, he had to try. It was only a few more hours. He turned away abruptly, stalking to the far wall to distance himself from the temptation.

“Gareth?”

“I want to walk around a bit. Stretch my legs.” Again he lied. The sensations flooding him were surreal and frantic, and he worried that he didn't have the strength to keep away from Adele. A wave of repulsion pushed the hunger down. He pressed against the wall, letting the chill in the stones distract him.

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