The Mummy's Lady

by maryastors

Summary:

Helen Grosvenor looked into the haunting gaze of Ardath Bey and knew she'd never be able to look away; or sometimes you're a modern girl who likes to dance and drink and go to parties and life throws you your very own undead Egyptian. What's a girl to do?

 

Continuation of Hawkscape's wonderful 'The Mummy and His Wife' because I choose to believe that's how the movie actually ended.

Notes:

• Inspired by The Mummy and His Wife by Hawkscape

Here's to the first of many chapters/fics if I can keep my motivation up! Once again so much credit goes to Hawkscape for writing a beautiful piece that I cannot stop revisiting. I just want to believe the movie really ended that way because I love this dusty wife guy and Miss 'do you have to open graves to find girls to fall in love with?' A little angst, a little comedy, and hopefully lots of hints of romance coming your way!

Chapter 1: Sliver of Moonlight

Helen Grosvenor turned with the breeze, her attention drawn back to the atmosphere she had left to chase the tall man beside her, trying to quickly formulate a plan. It was almost midnight now, and the party was breaking up, those in good spirits stumbling out into the street. Too much of a risk, even to go somewhere for a drink. She couldn’t afford to run into anyone who might know her, not when she knew there was a good chance that Ardath Bey was still looking for a chance to escape.

“Say, do you still have that place where I went to meet you before?” Helen asked, slipping her arm through the crook of his elbow. Of course she thought nothing of it, but he could feel his breath catch within him. Wasn’t this the way they all walked down the street, the young couples he pretended to ignore when he saw them, lest his heart shatter into pieces each time?

“I…I…yes, it still stands,” Ardath sputtered, surprised to hear words so unmeasured come out of his mouth. “The servants are gone, but I can get inside.”

Helen let out a sigh of relief she didn’t know she was holding and beamed at him once more. “Oh, I’m so glad. Will you lead the way? We can talk there, and no one will miss me too much. I imagine they’ve all gathered into some little club by now, looking for…pleasures they couldn’t find at the party.”

Although he still wasn’t convinced, Ardath couldn’t help doing as she asked, leading them back onto the beaten path. “And you’re sure you wouldn’t like to be there?” he questioned, ready to give them both an out before they got too far. She could still change her mind, and he was preparing himself for the gentle arm to tear itself from his side.

“Quite sure,” Helen replied, careful with her steps. One injury was enough for the night, rolling her ankle might really make her seem the damsel in distress. “I like the music, but that’s why I have a phonograph,” she teased. “It comes without the crowd of young men trying to pay compliments they don’t quite understand.”

Ardath couldn’t help a smirk, and he was glad it was too dark for her to see the amusement on his face. Her fire and wit hadn’t changed throughout the ages, no matter who they both were now. “I shall keep in mind that it is not wise to cross you, Miss Grovsenor. Anyone who does must be a fool.”

She let out a laugh, the most carefree and joyful of the night. “You’ve got to call me Helen, please. We’re old friends in one way or another, don’t feel that you have to be so formal. I wouldn’t trust just anyone to walk me back in the dark.”

Trust. What a foreign concept. No trance or mesmerization needed, just a woman who had faith in him in spite of, or perhaps because of, what she knew about him.

“Helen…” he tested the name as quietly as he could, and it seemed to satisfy her. The rest of the walk back was silent, as Ardath contemplated exactly what he was supposed to do when they reached their destination, and Helen took the first deep breaths she’d been able to manage in days.

When they approached the large doors of the quiet sanctuary he’d created, Ardath fumbled with the iron lock, as if he’d forgotten that a simple gesture would fling the door open. But he managed, and Helen walked ahead, not taking long to seat herself comfortably by the reflecting pool. How could she be so calm? This wasn’t how it was supposed to go at all, yet Helen seemed to believe that there was no other way. As he approached the great room, a sliver of moonlight came to rest on her face and gold dress, and she was bathed in an ethereal glow. It stopped him in his tracks, but those deep, soulful eyes could not look away from her presence.

Helen seemed to grasp the situation immediately, and it made her smile. “You’re afraid of me, aren’t you?” she asked, a question she knew no man since the dawn of time had ever answered truthfully. “You needn’t be, you know. I’m only just a girl, I won’t hurt you.” The words were said teasingly, but her tone was gentle enough to coax him forward.

She could have done anything to him in that moment. Beaten him down into a pile of dust and ashes and swept him away, he wouldn’t have fought back. She was so real, so…alive. It could have been a dream if he’d still had the capacity to sleep.

Ardath didn’t know he’d crossed the room until he was seated beside her. “You wished to talk?” he asked, willing himself back to the present moment.

“Yes…I…well it’s just that there’s so much…I don’t know where to begin.” Perhaps starting with what he knew of reincarnation would be best, maybe he could fill in the gaps of things she felt. The loneliness, why she always felt like an outsider, even among good friends. The desperate need she’d felt to stay in Egypt, even though she couldn’t have been more than five or six the last time she’d visited. Did the feelings belong to her? Or were they those of another woman who had lived long ago?

But when she looked back in those eyes, so beautiful and haunting, she knew it wasn’t herself she wanted to talk about.

“You must have loved her terribly. At…at least from what I understand. I’ve never loved anyone that much.” Helen questioned the words as soon as they came out of her mouth. Since when did you start any conversation like that, even in these circumstances?

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, speaking quickly before he could open his mouth. “That wasn’t how I meant to start this. There’s just something about you, Ardath Bey. I find it easy to speak even more freely than I usually would.”

The apology wasn’t necessary, but he nodded his head in recognition, knowing it would make the situation less awkward. “Yes, yes…I loved her very much. I do still. It is a long and complicated story, it couldn’t possibly be told in one night,”

Helen smiled again, deciding to use that as an invitation. “Then I’ll just have to keep coming back, won’t I?”

It was nearing daylight when she gathered her wrap and stood with him beside the front door. “Now please don’t run out on me,” Helen pleaded. “Or leave a note saying you’ve gone away to attend to business. I’ll know it’s just an excuse, and I’ll be awfully crushed.”

“You should go,” Ardath encouraged her, hearing the first signs of morning life on the street outside the door. “They’ll be looking for you.”

“No one will be looking for me at this hour, they’re still fast asleep,” she assured him. “I’ll come back in the late afternoon. I’ll walk, I’m certain I know the way now.”

“What will you tell them this time?” he asked, not wanting her to get in trouble, and not wanting to renew interest in himself.”

“I’ll tell them that I’m having tea with a gentleman,” Helen assured him, reaching out to squeeze his hand one last time. “It’s not exactly a lie, you know.”

And with that she was off, a radiant sunbeam before the stars had even gone to bed.

Chapter 2: Grove of Flowers

Notes:

He's a simp. He's such a simp. He is THE simp. That's my warning for this chapter, enjoy!

It hadn’t been hard to convince the hotel kitchen to put together a little picnic basket that afternoon. It had occurred to Helen that she couldn’t even begin to imagine what a being like Ardath might enjoy, so instead she’d asked for her own favorites, hoping he’d find something he liked in the box of sandwiches and little cakes. It was meant to be a gesture of goodwill, her unspoken plea asking him once more not to disappear, not to condemn her to a life of questioning but never understanding.

Basket in hand and sunhat pinned in place, she’d made it to the front of her suite and was starting the walk towards the door when she heard footsteps behind her. “Going out?” the sweet voice of Mrs. Muller called, still of the mind that Helen shouldn’t be going out alone after her recent and strange behavior.

Helen bit down on her tongue, repressing a sigh before she turned to answer the question. “Oh…yes. I told a friend that I’d bring out tea. It’s a little bit of a walk, so I really should get going,”

Mrs. Muller smiled. Helen couldn’t fool her, she had her own memories of being young and rushing off to a rendezvous. “I hope you’ll give Frank our regards,” she replied lightly, as if she’d just uncovered a secret.

Helen furrowed her brow, trying to make sense of that remark before it hit her. “Frank? Oh, no, no I’m afraid you’re mistaken.”

“He’s terribly in love with you, you know…”

She knew she couldn’t roll her eyes in front of the older woman, at least not without being the topic of whispered conversation for days to come, so Helen gave a gentle shrug instead. “I can’t help that. There are other men in Cairo, you know.”

Mrs. Muller was at a loss for words, standing with her mouth open in surprise, and Helen used it as her opportunity to make a quick escape into the hallway. She’d just have to move to a different hotel, unless she wanted them to keep approaching her as a child. It was lucky that she had her own allowance, and even luckier that no one had informed her father of what had transpired for sure. He’d send for her in a moment, and Helen was more determined than ever to stay in the country.

She took the stairs down to the lobby two at a time, looking back occasionally as if she was being chased. A bellhop stared at her in amazement as she pushed through the revolving door and ran several blocks down the sidewalk before stopping. Helen set the basket down for a moment before resuming her journey at a much slower pace. At least now she could enjoy the walk, and not worry that anyone knew where she was going.

As she approached the great wooden door, Helen decided to try the handle before she knocked, and much to her surprise it creaked open the moment her finger touched the brass. It hadn’t been like that before, had it? She stepped inside and looked behind the door, expecting to see that Ardath had been right there to open it.

“I knew it was you,” a low voice behind her explained, and Helen nearly jumped out of her skin before she turned to see him. Really, he could have done a better job at announcing himself. “The door was meant to open only at your touch.”

“Oh…” Helen trailed off, getting a bit closer before she remembered what she’d brought with her. “I know you were rather occupied last night, and I realized that you probably didn’t have anything to eat. So I brought tea,” she explained, holding up the basket. “Nothing terribly exciting, really I just asked for my own favorites.”

“The offer is a kind gesture indeed,” Ardath replied, nodding his head in acknowledgement. “I am glad you chose things you liked, for you will have to enjoy them. I cannot eat or drink, just as I cannot sleep.”

The last words sent a shiver down Helen’s spine, and she tried to keep a look of shock off her face as they walked into the main room. How long had he been alive again? Ten? Eleven years? Eleven years with your own thoughts at every moment, the reprieve of slumber not available to quell a tired mind. Her heart went out to him in that moment, and she absentmindedly grabbed for his sleeve as they took their seats before the pool.

“I’m…I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have brought this if I had known. It feels awfully rude of me to have tea without you.” Her mouth went dry, thinking about the thirst of 3,700 years. No water to ease the torture of the hot sun on your back, to never again taste fresh fruit, or to enjoy the tingle of champagne lingering in your throat. It seemed maddening.

“No,” Ardath Bey shook his head. “You are mortal yet, you must keep your strength up.” He was so far removed from those sensations that he couldn’t remember what food tasted like, or what he had favored in his past life. The feeling of Ankh-es-en-amun’s kiss would never leave him, nor would the sensation of being bound and buried alive. But other experiences, the activities of daily life, they were slipping from his memory. It was hard to miss something you couldn’t recall.

“I am to assume that you made it safely back to your accommodations?” he asked, as if he hadn’t been watching every step she’d made from the moment she’d rounded the corner the night before, refusing to let so much as a stray pebble get in her way.

Helen nodded, giving a small smile of triumph. “I made it back before anyone woke up, just like I said I would. It felt like being in school again, trying not to get caught if you broke curfew. But this afternoon…some people are so nosy.”

Ardath frowned, noticing the change in her voice. “You encountered trouble? I knew this wasn’t wise, I am not trying to further complicate your life.”

“Oh! Oh no, you mustn’t feel that it’s your fault,” Helen replied, shaking her head. “I haven’t let anyone know that I ran after you, I wouldn’t dare. Mrs. Muller thought I was taking this basket to Frank. I haven’t seen him since before…everything happened, but she wouldn’t believe me.”

Ardath drew his lips back in a snarl, not pleased to hear that name. Even before Helen had entered the picture, the contemptuous attitude of Frank Whemple had angered him to no end. To work with a man so disinterested in anything except the value of his findings might have driven Ardath mad if he hadn’t been so caught up in his own plans. And now? The urge to snap the mortal man’s neck was stronger than ever.

Helen felt a shiver of excitement at his expression, and looked away to regain her composure. What was wrong with her? Perhaps it hadn’t been the right thing to say, and she resolved not to bring the subject up again. Instead she reached for the basket as he’d encouraged her to and pulled out a cucumber sandwich wrapped in wax paper.

“I do think I’ll check into a new hotel however,” Helen went on, trying to fill the void of his silence. “My father sends me an allowance every month, and I’d rather spend it on some privacy instead of a new gown. I’ve appreciated the Mullers, but I think they still see me as a sixteen year old child.”

You’ve known them a long time?” Ardath asked, trying to guess just how old she might be. Terribly young, but not a child, she was right in that regard.

Helen nodded, coming to the realization that she might have to end that old friendship if she wanted to persist in seeing Ardath Bey. “I went away to school when I was thirteen, and I would often go to them on holiday. My father has always been very busy with his work, and he trusted Dr. Muller to be my guardian.”

She smiled, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. “Twenty five is a bit old for a guardian, don’t you think?”

Twenty five. What had twenty five been like? Of course it was different in this age, but hadn’t it always been a time to find your way in the world? No, he certainly couldn’t fault her for wanting some freedom, but perhaps a different type of protectiveness was needed. “I...I wouldn’t know. I can’t say it’s my area of expertise.”

Helen laughed, wondering if he’d meant to tease her. She’d been speaking to him like she might have to an old classmate, not a mysterious man she had endless questions about. “Well, I hope they’ll go back to London soon enough, but I don’t plan on being with them.”

“You don’t?” he asked, not aware that she was so set in her decision.

“I don’t think I’ll go back to London for a long time. My father is going to insist I visit with him, but afterwards I think Cairo still holds plenty for me. I was born here, you know. We left when I was five, and I don’t have the slightest memories of the place at all. It’s like seeing it for the very first time.”

The sandwich finished, she rested her elbow against a pillow and stifled a yawn. Two hours of sleep this morning suddenly wasn’t feeling like enough. “I’ve only spoken of myself, won’t you tell me something about you?”

Ardath noticed her eyes starting to droop, but he knew not to insist that she leave and get some rest. It would only cause her to fight it more. Revealing any information about himself seemed unwise, the less anyone knew the better. “I…I don’t know Cairo as well as you think I would either. I have found it wise to keep to myself and complete the necessary research that I knew would interest the expedition.”

“Did you ever get bored?” Helen asked, laying her arm flat on the pillow so she could rest against it.

“No,” he answered, shaking his head. “Perhaps your words about loneliness last night held some truth, but it is hard to find anything dull when you can only focus on the task at hand.”

He looked back over, expecting a response. But there was Helen, one half of her face buried against the pillow. His eyes darting around the room, Ardath spotted one of his robes on a hook by the hallway. Not daring to take a step and wake her, he beckoned it towards him, taking the garment in both hands and draping it over Helen’s sleeping form as it reached him. He would sit for as long as she needed to rest, keeping a silent vigil.

It was the next morning when Helen awoke, her drowsy eyes trying to make sense of where she was before she remembered. “Have I been asleep very long?” she asked, surprised to see Ardath Bey seated in the exact spot he had been in before.

“Yes. The sun went down and rose again before you opened your eyes. The events of late have exhausted you, you needed your rest,” he explained.

“I wasn’t so careful this time, they’re really going to wonder where I’ve been,” she sighed, pushing herself to sit up. “Were you right there all night?”

“I made certain that nothing disrupted your slumber.”

Helen ran a hand through her messy curls and shook her head. “Oh, nothing could have disrupted me here. It’s as quiet as a tom…” she trailed off in embarrassment, noticing the stains she’d left on the pillow. “Your lovely pillow, I’m afraid I must have ruined it.”

Ardath reached out to take the pillow, careful not to smudge the makeup any further. “I will take care of it. You should go, really.”

“Yes, you’re right I guess,” Helen sighed. She wanted to linger, and the thought of walking into the hotel with her mussed hair and wrinkled dress was not an appealing one. She could fix the makeup at least, and she pulled a tube of lipstick out of her purse to reapply it. “But please don’t worry about me. I’ll come back as soon as I can.” Picking up her hat, she smiled at him once more before hurrying to the door.

As he heard it close, Ardath brought the pillow close to his face, studying the marks left by her eyeliner and pink lipstick. She’d brought it out of a cylinder, not painting her lips with a brush as he imagined everyone still did. The lipstick had its own scent, and it mingled with the floral perfume that radiated off the pillow. It was sweet, like the breeze flowing through a grove of flowers.

Taking a deep breath, he moved the pillow to his chest, holding it where he could remember once feeling a heartbeat. No, he would keep it just as it was, proof that such loveliness had been in his presence.

Chapter 3: Vultures Everywhere

Notes:

I've got to be honest with you, this was the hardest chapter to write so far, so apologies if it isn't as good or is shorter than the others. Very minimal Ardath Bey and having to write Frank Whemple instead does not make me a happy camper. Alas, Frank is a necessary evil. Favorite chapter name however, because once that iconic line popped into my head, it wouldn't leave me alone.

Helen Grosvenor sat in the dining room of her newly acquired hotel with a cup of tea that she’d been slowly nursing over the past half an hour. Her attention kept being diverted to a book that she held in one hand, a volume of history that wouldn’t have caught her eye only a month ago. But if he had taken the time to learn so much over the past decade, the least she could do was try.

“Helen!”

The familiar voice caused her to pause mid sentence, and she debated trying to ignore it before slowly raising her head up. Frank Whemple in the flesh, and clearly overjoyed to see her. Helen hid the book underneath the table, not wanting additional questions.

“The Mullers told me that you’d checked out, so I’ve been to every hotel in town asking for you! I was beginning to think you’d disappeared!” he laughed.

Helen managed the smallest smile, feeling like an animal frozen in fear. Every hotel in town? What if he’d seen her somewhere else? What if he’d followed her?
“My father sent me an advance on my allowance, so I thought I’d take it as a chance to move into a nicer hotel,” she explained. At least that wasn’t a lie, although perhaps a bit more vague than he would have liked.

“Oh, well that’s…that’s splendid,” Frank replied, as it suddenly dawned on him that she was staying alone. It was certainly easier for a chap to score an invitation that way. He took the seat across from her, reaching for her hand before she’d had a chance to pull it away.

“I’ve thought about you constantly,” he continued. “I was afraid that you might have been avoiding me, I’m so glad that’s not the case.”

Helen bit down on her lip, wondering just how dense the man could be. “I’ve been busy,” she responded, trying not to show any emotion. Once again, there was no lie. She had been spending each moment with Ardath Bey that she could, and there had been no time for further socializing in between.

“Let’s go out tonight,” Frank beseeched her, a wide smile on his face. “We’ll go dancing, hit any number of little clubs you’d like. There has to be at least five orchestras playing in town, we could dance until morning.”

“I’m afraid I have other plans tonight,” Helen explained. Plans that had included going to see Ardath, but perhaps would now just consist of sitting in her room with her book. It would do no good to accidentally lead Frank to the meeting place she had come to love.

“Oh...well tomorrow night then!” Frank exclaimed, feeling a sudden need to tug at his collar. Was it just him, or was it getting awfully tight?

Across town, the wrinkled fist of Ardath Bey clenched tightly, before releasing it just as quickly. He’d only meant to look in on Helen for a moment, to make certain that nothing was disrupting her day. Instead he’d caught a scene he hadn’t been expecting. The hands across the table, the grotesque look of happiness on Whemple’s face…it would make things easier if this was what she wanted. He waved his hand across the pool and the image disappeared.

Helen squirmed in her chair, managing to free her hand from the grasp. She’d taken her cigarettes out of her purse and left them in the room, damn it all. It had been to remind herself not to take them with her when she’d gone to see Ardath. Would he go up in flames if caught too close to a match? She didn’t know, and she really didn’t want to find out. In the absence of the ability to smoke, she folded her hands in her lap, where Frank couldn’t get at them.

“I have plans tomorrow night, and the night after that,” Helen finally responded, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

“Are you seeing someone?” Frank asked, unable to keep the hurt out of his voice. Hadn’t he just been professing his love for her? He knew it had only been a short time, but he’d been looking at rings and imagining what kind of home they might have in London.

“Well…yes,” Helen replied, before deciding she’d better add to her answer before the inevitable next question. “I mean…several men have asked me out. We’re young, Frank. I don’t really plan to be exclusive with anyone.” Another pack of lies, but maybe they would keep him off her trail. “You ought to go out and have your fun as well, I’m not the only girl in Cairo.”

At this point the anger and embarrassment on his face were apparent. The kiss, her smiles, had they all meant nothing? He hadn’t taken Helen for that kind of girl, she seemed so serious. She’d been leading him on this whole time just to humiliate him.

 

“I suppose that’s my invitation to leave. It was only going to be dancing, Helen. You might have penciled me in between some of your conquests.” Not the most gracious parting words to a lady, but he at least nodded his head in farewell as he stood up and left the table.

Fine. Let these men have their fun. He’d be back to woo her again. It was obvious that she didn’t know what she wanted, and a love like theirs didn’t falter so easily.

As soon as he had turned the corner, Helen grabbed her things and hurriedly took the elevator up to her floor. She unlocked the door to her room and locked it swiftly once she was inside. Angry tears pricked at her eyes. No visit tonight, no time to ask questions, not until she felt confident that Frank had left. Throwing the book down on her bed, she picked up the pack of cigarettes and lit one as she walked towards the balcony. The view was like that of a postcard, but Helen felt as if she was looking straight through it. What would he think? She tried to picture the expression Ardath Bey might have when he realized she wasn’t coming, but couldn’t make sense of what he might think. Perhaps he’d even be relieved.

Helen’s eyes stung more, and she choked back a sob. Rotten. It was all rotten, and once again she was stuck in a room, unable to do anything about it.

By morning, there were no cigarettes left in the package.

Chapter 4: Cautious Fire

Notes:

My boy is BACK and he's finally starting to open up and show her that he does in fact have a personality, and I love that for him. Also I'm officially diagnosing Helen with anxiety but can you blame her?

The sun had recently risen on the streets of Cairo as Helen walked along them, her dejected steps not matching the need she felt to get to her destination. She’d slept for what…forty five minutes? An hour? The rest of the night had been spent tossing and turning, filled with the feelings of anger and disappointment and…guilt? Mainly guilt, as if she had committed some great slight against Ardath Bey in her inability to tell whether Frank had believed her lies or not.

When she stood in front of the doors she reached out slowly, not expecting them to open as they had before. He’d surely fled, or locked her out to make things simpler for himself, no matter how well they’d been getting along. But the door creaked open at the touch of one fingertip, and Helen felt her breath catch in her chest. It shut behind her, and he wasn’t there to silently greet her as he had been the other day. Her heart sank, but she proceeded into the great room.

Ardath Bey stood in front of the fireplace, the marble cold and the hearth dark. He had sensed the quiet footsteps, but he gave no indication that he knew he was no longer alone. She stopped before she’d reached the reflecting pool, awkwardly awaiting some instruction.

“I did not expect to see you so early…or perhaps at all.” He still wouldn’t look at her, waiting to hear the goodbye he knew was coming. No, he couldn’t say he wished her well on the journey she was undertaking, so brief words would have to do.

That did it. The sound Helen emitted sounded unhuman even by his standards, and the great wracking sobs that followed echoed off the high ceiling, filling every part of the room. Ardath finally turned to face her and took a deep breath as he realized he would have to be the one to step forward. She held both hands up in front of her face, crying into the gloved hands and unable to move.

Helen finally looked up when he reached her, bloodshot eyes now with mascara dashing off in every direction. “You can’t be cross with me!” she sobbed. “I’ve had the most wretched night, I must have cried until I could see the stars fading.”

The picture of the previous afternoon flashed through Ardath’s mind, and his hand clenched into a fist so tightly that particles of dust came to rest on the floor underneath it.

“What did he do?”

“He?” Helen stopped crying as she realized why Ardath would have that information. “You were spying on me!”

“It is not spying,” Ardath corrected her. “I was making certain you were alright, and I happened to look in on an inopportune moment.”

“I…I…” Helen stammered as he stood in silent agony, expecting her next words to confirm the scene he had peered into yesterday. “I think I’m going to fall over if I don’t sit down.” She gripped his sleeve, willing her knees not to give way before she had a seat on the soft pillows.

Helen lowered herself onto the cushions, practically pulling Ardath down beside her as she’d refused to let go of his velvet sleeve. It felt awful to be upset like this, and even stranger in front of him, when she was so used to keeping everything to herself.

“Frank found my hotel,” she started to explain. “He’d been asking at every hotel in Cairo, and I suddenly felt very frightened when he told me that. He kept asking me to go on a date, so I lied and told him I had dates lined up for the whole week. And then when he left I went straight to my room, because I was so afraid that he’d follow me here. I wanted to come, but I won’t tell your secrets to anyone.” And selfishly, she had been afraid that the tranquil spell of this room might be broken by an outsider.

Ardath was silent, as if unable to believe what he’d just heard. What did he fear anymore? Muller? Some hot tempered idiot like Frank Whemple? He had the scroll. They didn’t. Any attempt to come after him could be ended in a matter of seconds. He imagined they knew that. If not? Well, at least death would be swift. But Helen…Helen had cared enough to lie for him. Cared enough not to betray a word because she was afraid of what they’d do to him, and not the other way around. He thought about the last person who had cared for him, and gently handed Helen a handkerchief so she could dab at her eyes.

“Please don’t cry.” His words were soft, and not said with any confidence. He had once wept with Ankh-esen-amun, and then again after the funerary proceedings were over. But there were no more tears, only dirt and dust, no matter how much Helen’s current whimpers made him feel as if he could join her. “I am not angry with you…I regret my earlier remark. You deserve respect, even if I…” Ardath paused. The feeling he was about to describe was jealousy, and he couldn’t admit that to her. “You deserve respect.”

The reassurance seemed to make her feel better, and she dabbed at each eye as much as she could. I must look a fright, I’m sorry. In between crying I slept for an hour and smoked an entire pack of cigarettes.”

“Do you smoke?” he asked. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Yes, I just felt it was safer not to bring them here. I didn’t want to…” Helen trailed off, finding it such an odd thing to say.

“You didn’t want to light me on fire?” Ardath guessed, the beginnings of a smile starting on his face. To see him so at ease made her relax, and she couldn’t help but giggle at the whole situation.

“Can you blame me?” Helen asked, blushing a bit.

“I would not let you set me on fire,” Ardath promised her. “Just to burn incense I am exceedingly careful.” He reached into the pocket of his long robes, pulling out a small golden lighter. “I like these very much. Not once have I lit myself on fire.”

Helen smiled at the sight of him with the lighter, perhaps he was more in step with the times than she’d thought. Her sense of relief was great, and she wanted to listen to him talk about his favorite things for hours. “I still won’t take my chances.”

Ardath had been watching her intently, noticing as she shivered softly and reached her arm up to rub the other one. The fear and lack of sleep had taken its toll, and he worried that she might get sick if she kept up this way.

“May I make a suggestion?” he asked gently, glad to see her silent nod.

“I can see the exhaustion in your eyes, and I know you haven’t slept in some time,” he began. “Let me put you to sleep for a few hours. I won’t bother you, and you can get some much needed rest without fear of Mr. Whemple lurking around the corner. Bast will strike him down if he touches the front door.

Helen still looked uneasy. She trusted Ardath, but no magic had been performed on her since that odd, jumbled up night inside the museum. What had happened wasn’t completely clear still, but she knew he was capable of very powerful things.

“And I’ll wake up…just the same?” she asked. “Everything will be just the same?”

“You’ll wake up in the exact spot you lay down, in exactly this room on exactly the same pillow. No change at all except for the time. It’s still early, you could probably make up for most of last night,” he nodded.

“It’s like when you have surgery,” she surmised. “They tell you to count backwards from ten, and by the time you’ve made it to eight you’re awake again and it’s all over. Alright. I’ll just lay down right here, and when I wake up I can forget yesterday ever happened.”

Ardath reached for the same robe he’d placed over her the other day, and she spread the soft material out before laying her head down on the pillow. He was about to make the gesture over her face when she reached one hand out. “I know you said you weren’t going to bother me, but please don’t go too far.”

He hesitated, and then his hand shakily reached out to rest on hers. “You will sleep now, and you will not awaken until I say.” One gesture over her face and she was sound asleep, all traces of worry erased from her face.

When he woke her later, she immediately laughed as she realized she’d gone through the whole day with her makeup smeared all over her face. She freshened herself up, and was surprised to see Ardath picking up his cane from its spot by the front door. He was going out, something she hadn’t seen him do since she’d started to visit.

“Are you ready?” he asked, and Helen looked at him in confusion. “Given the circumstances, I thought it might be best if you did not walk back to your hotel alone.”

“But what if someone sees you?” Helen asked. “What if Frank is still there?”

“If Mr. Whemple is still skulking about the grounds of that property, he is going to wish he were on the other side of the world. He won’t follow me back, and as a citizen of this city I do not think it will seem too odd for me to walk along the streets.” Ardath remembered what she had done that first night, and this time he offered an arm, secretly pleased by her surprised smile as she took it.

Helen had never walked with him in the daytime before, and she watched his slow footsteps, making sure hers were equally measured. The pace gave her time to take in the streets around her, and every once in awhile she would glance at the cane in his hand, wondering if it hid some great pain.

When they reached the front steps of the hotel she made him stop, moving to stand in front of him. “I can’t thank you enough, I suppose I would have been nervous to walk by myself. But I can manage from here. I won’t have you come any further, not until I know that he isn’t still around. I’ll come visit again as soon as I can, and I’ll try not to fall asleep next time.”

“The doors will continue to open for you. It has been a pleasure,” he nodded. Helen gave his hand a squeeze and was gone, lost in the groups of people coming in and out of the building.

Chapter 5: Death Takes a Holiday

It had done Helen a world of good to be walked home by Ardath Bey the previous afternoon, and she kept replaying the scene over and over again in his head. He had been right. Walking the streets he was just another resident of Cairo, an ordinary person in the crowd that no one thought to single out. Since he had been so thoughtful to her the day before, she decided that she would return the kindness. After all, when was the last time he had done anything for fun?

Sunhat pinned jauntily on her head, Helen walked towards her destination with a purpose, each step betraying her excitement. Upon reaching the door, she touched it with confidence, as if she’d grown up with magic all her life. Ardath was not right there to greet her, but she noticed several canes in a stand, a sure sign that he was home. She looked them over and picked up the one with gold inlay, deciding that she would bring it to him to convey her intentions.

He was standing with that little gold lighter, just turning around to meet her gaze as he finished with the incense he was tending to. Obviously a bit wary of why she was holding his cane, but not totally devoid of manners as to bring it up before greeting her. “Good afternoon,” Ardath Bey spoke with a nod.

“Good afternoon,” came the cheerful reply, and Helen smiled as she made her way towards him. As she closed the gap between them she put the cane in his hands, hoping he would drop the look of concern. “We’re going out this afternoon.”

“We are?” he asked, still unable to drop the suspicious note in his voice. She was planning something, and he didn’t like the thought of being caught off guard…even if it was with the only person he had started to trust in eleven years. “May I ask what this afternoon consists of?”

It wasn’t a refusal, and if that was the most enthusiastic response Helen could get, she would take it. “I’ll bet you’ve never been to the cinema before,” she guessed, a giddy smile breaking out across her face once more. She had put quite a bit of thought into this, trying to imagine what activities had filled his hours during these long years. It didn’t seem like a luxury he would treat himself to, not when he had had those obsessive plans of his. A quick glance at his puzzled face as he tried to piece together her words confirmed her suspicion.

“Imagine that! Pictures were silent when you came back…woke up…” Oh dear, would there ever be a good way to phrase that? “But now they talk! I used to skip class all the time to go see them. My one and only little act of rebellion.” Helen laughed, but perhaps it wasn’t as funny as she thought.

The wave of girlish excitement was threatening to knock him down, and when she finished he let a moment of silence pass before adding to the conversation. “I will be honest with you, I do not think I was able to comprehend one word of what you just said. Would you explain this…activity, perhaps a bit more slowly?”

“Well it’s…” Helen paused, trying to put it into words that would resonate with him. “You go and sit in this dark, cool room, and there’s a large screen at the front of the room. And when the film starts you can see moving pictures on the screen, and hear sound. Just like your reflecting pool!” There it was, now it would make sense!

“Then why don’t we stay here, and look in the reflecting pool?” The idea sounded a bit redundant to him, despite Helen’s obvious enthusiasm. It was suddenly clear that she was not going to accept that suggestion happily, and he wondered what was so important about this cinema.

“Just give it a try,” Helen coaxed him. “If you don’t like it we can always leave.” She wouldn’t dare admit what her brain was trying to tell her, that this is what couples did when they made a date. But at the same time she couldn’t help wishing the same thought would pop into his own dusty head and make him more willing to understand.

“Alright,” Ardath Bey finally agreed, placing his cane in its usual position. “We will go to your cinema. Will you lead the way?”

Helen was too excited to remember how they’d walked the day before, and instead she grabbed at his free hand, tugging a bit as if she still didn’t believe that he would follow. Surely she wouldn’t do this the entire way. His knees threatened to give way at the very thought, and no cane would hold him upright if he buckled under the warmth of her touch.

It was a small theater, not flashy like one of the big palaces downtown with their neon lights flashing at all hours of the day. Only one screen, and a tiny box office which Helen released his hand to walk towards. Ardath stood under the awning of the building, just out of sight of the afternoon sun. He studied the illustrations hastily tacked to the walls, most of them with a corner drooping towards the ground. Not too terribly impressive, but he’d been in worse places.

Helen came back to where she’d left him, smiling as she linked arms to lead him into the building. “It’s a drama today, hopefully not something too weepy,” she laughed. “Not that they normally make me cry, of course!” Into the room they went, sweeping past the board that held details of the day’s feature. Today’s? Helen hadn’t looked too closely, so eager to enter that she’d missed the title: Death Takes a Holiday.

He wasn’t very eager to step towards the front of the theater, so Helen pulled him into the back row, placing his cane between them once he was seated. “All you have to do is sit here,” she whispered to Ardath. “Won’t you try and enjoy yourself for once?”

 

Silence. There was total silence during the film that continued as they got up to leave. The silence followed them on the walk back. Helen couldn’t even take his arm, as she was so conscious of the pounding of her heart and trying to remember to take a deep breath.

Standing in front of the door, they turned to face each other, unable to look away like the first time they’d met. No longer with the aid of hypnosis, but still a burning intensity that threatened to envelop them both.

Those eyes, those fascinating deep eyes with their endless talent to captivate. They were mostly black, but Helen could see flecks of brown, and she wondered if there had been a time when they were the same shade of that color as her own. How could anyone call a man with eyes like that dead?

As the gaze continued, Ardath Bey felt a realization forming in the back of his mind, and a prick of guilt to go with it. How had he ever thought her eyes were the same as Ankh-esen-amun’s? Or hadn’t he stopped to think at all? He could still see those eyes, eyes that had been endowed since birth with the dignity and grandeur of her position. They were quick to question, quick to flirt, and could certainly hold malice for anyone who dared cross her. But Helen…Helen’s eyes were full of life. Round and bright and excited, as if someone had drawn them by hand like one of those strange little cartoons that had played before the movie. And at that moment he felt he would be content if they were the only sight he ever saw again.

Helen was the first to break the stare, her eyes traveling to his chest and back up again as she reached for his cheek with her hand, gently caressing it with the back of her hand. Ardath thought about raising his own hand to cover hers, keeping the touch in place for as long as he wanted. But as soon as his hand started to move he put it back down. Wasn’t it enough to be touched at all?

Helen traced a path to his chin, those bright eyes of hers so filled to the brim with emotion that he thought it looked like she might faint or burst into tears. Instead she removed her hand and smiled, leaning in close to press an unexpected kiss to his cheek.

“Let’s not go too long without seeing each other,” she finally spoke, perhaps feeling confident for the first time that he wasn’t going to run away. “I’ll come back around noon tomorrow, and it will be your turn to show me what you like to do in the city.”

Her eyes were smirking as she turned away, dodging a few people here and there as she walked down the street, leaving him in shock at his doorstep.

Ardath lifted his hand to his cheek, wondering if he’d made it all up. As the door opened for him he stumbled inside, leaning between the wall and his cane. No, some things were so perfect that no dream could compare.

Notes:

I took some liberties here because technically that film did not come out until 1934, but when a friend of mine suggested it I knew it just HAD to be!