Night At The Park (Ahkmenrah X Tim Murphy)

Chapter Three - A Priest, a Pharaoh, and an Archaeologist Walk Into Temple

A man greeted Tim and Ahura in the courtyard. His head was adorned with a short, black wig, and he was strongly built. His skin tone was also considerably lighter than the others Tim had seen around the square, however nowhere near as light as his own. Yet while he could be wrong about the color of Ahura's clothes, there was no mistaking the pure, brilliant white of a priest's garments. Because of his extensive knowledge of Egyptology, Tim could tell that the man was a high priest judging by the sash he wore, undoubtedly made from golden fabric.

When he saw them, he let out a low sigh. If Tim's senses weren't on hyper-alert, he would have missed the slight eye roll he gave the sky. Still, the man offered them both a friendly wave of greeting.

"Ahura, my dear, daughter of Ahmose and Henuttawy. How can I help you on this fine evening?" His voice was dull and toneless, as if he knew exactly what they were there for.

"Jim! Oh, Jim! I found another!" Ahura shoved him forward but didn't let go of his wrist, making him trip and fall, only to be yanked back. His arm seared in pain and he barely managed to catch himself, straightening up only a few feet away from the burly man.

Jim pinched the bridge of his nose. "Did you now?"

Ahura grimaced. "Yes, truly. I swear this time. His mind has been taken by Apep. He needs our help! Oh, the poor dear must be struggling to be free in there . . ."

The man turned to Tim with a compassionate glance. "I am sorry about this. I wish I could say this was the first time."

"I don't care! Just make her get her fucking hands off of me!"

He didn't know where the sudden rush of anger came from. All he knew was that he had finally crumpled under the stress. He had been ripped from his own time, traveled back to Ancient Egypt, of all places, and now he was possibly about to be exorcised. He was shaky, panicking, and cold, and all he wanted was to go home.

Jim gave Ahura a stern look and crossed his arms. "Release him."

She did no such thing. "Promise you will expel Apep from him. Promise!"

He regarded her with cool eyes. "I promise I will do everything in my power to help this boy."

Ahura hesitated. Tim could almost see the gears whirring in her head. At last, she nodded. "All right."

At last, she released him. The second his hand was free, he stepped away and rubbed his bruised wrist, scowling darkly. For a moment, he considered making a dash for it. But where would he go? He had traveled back in time. There was nowhere for him to run.

Perhaps if he went back to the future excavation site . . . but would there even be a tomb? Ahura had said that it had been the pharaoh's eighteenth birthday. Ahkmenrah's eighteenth birthday. The same name that had been on the sarcophagus.

It couldn't be a coincidence. There was no doubt: Ahkmenrah was still alive. And if he was alive, no tomb. And if there was no tomb . . . what then?

Dread pooled in Tim's gut. What was he going to do? He didn't know how he had traveled back in time, and he certainly didn't know how to get back. His only connection to the future hadn't even been built yet. How could he possibly hope to return home?

He was snapped from his reverie by the sound of Jim's deep voice.

"–apologize for Ahura's behavior," he was saying. Then, speaking only slightly above a whisper, he warned, "But please watch your tone and language. We are in the house of our gods."

"Your gods," Tim corrected harshly without thinking. Mentally, he cursed himself. Ancient Egypt, or any of the ancient civilizations, for that matter, weren't really well versed in religious diversity. Tim thought of himself as a steadfast atheist, but that definitely wouldn't fly in this time, especially when he was talking to the high priest of one of the most famous Egyptian temples in the world.