Nezzar

Part Two: The Breaking Point

Ziba could feel them, tiny cracks in the barrier. The luck she had been running with was finally coming to an end. Apophis. His rage was a wild thing, pressing in, scratching at the walls. It was useless to pay him a visit, doing so would only fuel his determination to escape.

"You need to hurry." Ziba snapped.

Sweat dripped down Usman's brow as he increased his speed. At least his hands had stopped shaking. Approaching Usman in the first place had been a calculated move. He was a man of many talents including accurate topography.

So far, every direction and prediction Algodon gave when he freed her from the clutches of Apophis and Marduk had been spot on. But unease was a mighty wave rushing at her. The pressure on her mind was getting worse. Things were beginning to not appear as clear as they once were. Time was running out; she could feel it.

And this body. Ziba placed a hand over her weakly beating heart. This child was innocent, a pawn Apophis was determined to destroy on his way out and the more Ziba strove to save her, the weaker she got. Apophis, that snake.

Ziba had visited Usman two days after they witnessed the ritual, and as she had advised, he left everything and followed her when she showed up. Now they were in the rooms of the priest. It was critical that they take the information needed without raising suspicion.

Within the period they had arrived, Ziba had exerted even more energy to keep their presence tightly concealed and to fool any eye that looked their way. She left nothing to chance. If they were caught, all their effort so far would be for nothing.

So far, Usman had made a fast copy of the spread of land the Babylonian forces were likely to pass through in the course of battle. Now what remained was copying smaller sections of where the priest intended to set their diabolical traps. But Usman was slow. Out of ten spots, he had only copied five. And it was sad, truly sad because there was no way Ziba would be able to maintain the shield for a longer period and still ensure their safe escape.

That infuriating human urge to cry pressed in. She was no stranger to feeling helpless now. All the human emotions and tastes she had longed for had been experienced and she was not impressed, if anything, she was confronted by the foolishness of her longing.

Ah, Abaddon. I'm sorry for being a fool and making our assignment harder.

Usman was about the put the finishing touches on the seventh spot when Ziba felt it. A presence. Not of Seth or any other god of Egypt. This was far worse. And it was fast, too fast to let her calmly think and make intelligent decisions.

"Stop and stuff all you've copied into your satchel!"

Ziba scarcely waited for Usman to set everything as they once were before she drew him from the rooms and catapulted them to the opposite end of where the approaching force was coming.

Panting, Ziba braced her hands on her knees as she bent forward. Cold sweat dotted her brow as a sick feeling spread from her gut to her throat. The pounding ache in her head. Even blinking caused agony. This child's body was suffering. She clenched her fist, feeling useless.

But the distance was not enough. Ziba could still feel what sought her out spreading its essence and searching for what was amiss. Whatever happens, they must not be discovered. A depressing reality came to mind—they must move once more.

Desperate, Ziba pressed at her mind as she sought out a solution. Awake humans, she had to find a gathering of at least five humans who were awake in order to throw off what was seeking her out. But it was the dead of night, way past midnight. Where else could she find them?

Ziba groaned within herself when the answer came. Guards.

Mind working fast, Ziba resolved to take a risk. Her spiritual energy was drained to the dregs and she had nothing left to use to get them farther away from what was seeking them out. But if she took a little from her power that fed the barrier separating her from Apophis, there was a chance for escape.