Desert Requiem: Part Twelve

      By good fortune, there was an entrance to the Temple of a Thousand Tombs near the vicinity of Tuzra. By an even greater stroke of fortune, the entrance was only a few hours from Ramseth's Vault. They arrived at the chamber well before midnight.

      Setting a light orb to hover above his head, Shasef said, "While we're waiting here, why don't you inform Jazan about our current situation? I know that he must be the party on the other end of those Devices of Communion."

      "I cannot," Khalid replied. "The left bracer was damaged by an Elixir of Negation. The remaining bracer would only allow Jazan to initiate a conversation with me, but not the other way around."

      Shasef sighed. "How unfortunate. Sayidah will just have to tell him the news herself, when she gets back to Qasala." He drew out the Scarab Amulet and placed it carefully on a nearby dais. "Here is the second key. I will teach you the first key that must be uttered to render the second key efficacious. I'm afraid I won't be able to accompany you into Ramseth's Vault; not only because I would be indisposed, but also because my ignorance of what lies inside would render me useless as a guide. I am certain, however, that Ramseth would have installed curses or death traps, or both, within his Vault, and as a imperishable al-mukek, you are the perfect candidate for retrieving the Book. Doubtless, Sayidah must have considered those factors when she chose you for this task."

      After instructing Khalid on the words of the key chant, Shasef said, "I must go now to prepare myself for midnight. See you in the morrow. Unless you take over six hours in the Vault, in which case there is a chance the doors might vanish from both within and without. But even so, they would reappear the next dawn, so there is nothing to fear on your end."

      He bowed and left the chamber, leaving the Nightsteed to brood over his own thoughts.

      Khalid's contemplations were broken some time during early morning, however, when the diamond on his right bracer began to flash.

      As soon as the new day dawned, Khalid stood and walked over to where the Scarab Amulet lay on its dais. Even in the dark, the glint of its gold body could not be concealed. Its rubies were as red as fire. Khalid whispered the key chant to the air above the dais.

      The rubies glowed. A soft golden light emanated from its form, and it rose into the air before zipping off to fit itself perfectly into the groove set for it beside the Vault's doors. The glowing stopped, and the Vault's doors slowly turned inwards.

      Khalid gazed beyond the doors into the innards of Ramseth's Vault. "Sakh-met," he whispered as he crossed the threshold.

      Sayidah would have appreciated the reference.

      Khalid spent only one hour in Ramseth's Vault.

      That one hour would likely have been the death of him were he not already undead.

      Shasef was waiting him for him when he emerged from the Vault. The Draik frowned when he saw that Khalid came back empty-handed &emdash; or empty-mouthed, as it were. "What happened? Did you not find it?"

      In response, Khalid lowered his head and rushed at him. Shasef avoided being speared by mere centimetres. The Draik rolled across the floor of the chamber and righted himself with a gasp. "For the love of Geb, Nightsteed, are you trying to kill me?!"

      "Yes," said Khalid, and streamed a volley of fire at him.

      Shasef countered the flames with a water shield. "Why the sudden hostility?" he demanded. "Have you forgotten that Lady Sayidah awaits our successful return?"

      Khalid stayed his attack long enough to say, "She has already arrived safely in Qasala. Prince Shasef of Symerra."

      Shasef broke out into a sweat, and not just because of the heat. Water spells were difficult to sustain in arid conditions; by contrast, fire magic was easy to fuel in the desert. Khalid was sure to outlast him, even if he weren't an indefatigable zombie. There could be no lingering in battle &emdash; escape was the immediate recourse.

      There was a sudden explosion, and thick white smoke filled the chamber. Both Khalid and Shasef ceased their barrage and immediately lost sight of each other. Shasef felt a familiar scaled claw grab his wrist and instinctively followed its lead.

      Detecting the patter of fleeing feet, Khalid aimed a ribbon of fire in their general direction, but missed his mark. He chased after them, but by the time he emerged from the field of smoke, they had already vanished from view, possibly into one of the numerous side passages. Khalid knew that while he would have outrun them in open space, his long shape put him at a disadvantage within the narrow, twisting confines of the Tombs. Instead, he turned back to the chamber, where the Scarab Amulet still waited to be retrieved. Jazan had already prepared a teleportation circle for him in the palace. It was time for him to come home.

      Shasef,

      I do not know where you are currently in hiding, so I can only place this letter in the care of Mayoress Lemida and hope that it will reach you one day. That it will reach you at all.

      First of all, I forgive you.

      It is incredible that so benign a phrase should fill me with so much guilt to say. I know that rightly, I should hate you, but I can't. You may have committed reprehensible, even repulsive acts, but you are not at heart a bad person.

      You remind me of King Jazan in some respects.

      The Book of Thoki is no more. It lies as a pile of ashes at the bottom of Ramseth's Vault. Khalid destroyed it as a favour to a Faerie, but I imagine that he was only too glad to vent his personal grievances on the subject of immortal existence. The same Faerie appeared at Qasala afterwards to enlighten him as to the true culprit behind his current condition.

      I marvel at your cunning, even if I do not approve of the application. As far back as two hundred years ago, you foresaw an opportunity to mould an undead pawn who you could manipulate into fording the dangers of Ramseth's Vault on your behalf. Khalid chanced upon his candidacy as your pawn because of Razul's obsession with forging a curse powerful enough to defeat his curseward. You lent Razul your strength in this endeavour &emdash; and when his back was turned, you tampered with the parameters of the spell such that Khalid's curse became tied to you, not Razul.

      When Khalid sought to execute you in Ramseth's Chamber, he only meant to seek redress for the wrongs you have committed against us. He never dreamed that had he succeeded back then, all of his misery would have ended the same instant as your life. Paradoxically, now that he knows the truth, he is disinclined to hunt you down, saying that he is patient enough to wait until the impending end of your days. Jazan is in hearty agreement with him. I suspect that both feel you deserve to suffer the pain of your own curse for a while longer.

      I am undecided as to whether you deserve the pain or not. But when I think of Shiki, of Lemida, of the people of Symerra, I realize that I do not want you to die any more than I want Khalid to remain unliving for longer than he has to.

      And so I propose a compromise. I know that the Curse of the Legions Undead can be broken through the cursecaster's death &emdash; or through his will. It has taken extensive persuasion on my part, but Jazan has agreed to remove your curse if you will lift Khalid's. You know as well as I do how highly Jazan values his honour, so you need not worry about him going back on his word once he has given it.

      I hope this offer reaches you in time. Send me your answer through Lemida.

      Your reluctant friend,

      Lady Sayidah of House Imlirin

      The full moon hung bright over the Palace of Qasala, illuminating the ongoing festivities. At the banquet table, King Jazan proved to be in unusually high spirits, laughing and jesting with his guests. Queen Nabile sat to his right, and the guest of honour was Khalid.

      One chair sat empty in the otherwise full table. Shasef had slipped away quietly after the curse-breaking ritual was completed, but since only one person out of all those attendant missed his presence, it was but a small loss.

      "And don't worry if you choke on your kebab, old friend," Jazan was saying in what he considered to be a reassuring tone. "I've taken out an insurance policy against that very eventuality."

      The Blue Uni so addressed gazed impassively at his friend. "Jazan, do you remember the time when you said you deserved to be set on fire?"

      The Kyrii snapped his fingers. "I have a sudden stroke of genius! We should set off fireworks to enhance the celebratory mood! Servants, pass on my command!"

      Snickers erupted from different quarters of the table. Khalid ignored his king and focused on the Spicy Queela Dip that was being served. Nabile cupped her hands around her mouth and whispered, "Watch out! You might have been able to handle that hot stuff two hundred years ago, but your tastebuds are out of practice!"

      Under his companions' wide-eyed gaze, Khalid swallowed a ladleful's worth of Queela Dip. He opened his mouth as if to speak &emdash; and breathed out a tongue of flame that passed centimetres from Jazan's face. To his credit, the King of Qasala did not shriek or fall over in fright, but his slack-jawed expression was enough to trigger another bout of laughter.

      Khalid caught Sayidah's eye as she chuckled on the opposite side of the table. A brief flush crept up her cheek, but she raised her glass of Qando punch and toasted him. The smile she radiated was warm and bright and full of promises for the future ahead.

      The End.