Natti eyed the syringe, bile crawling up her throat, and shook her head.
“Many are in fact harmless to humans, though the sting is extremely painful. Then again, moderate to more severe poisoning can cause symptoms such as sweating, heart palpitations, vomiting, and even convulsions. And without the administering of the anti-venom, I’ve heard it can be quite a painful death.
“However,” he held up the liquid, “this is a special concoction invented by the ingenious Doctor Chang. Given in small doses, it mimics many of the same symptoms, without causing death of course. After all, we wouldn’t get anywhere if our victims died before we could extract the information we needed. Yet, it is still excruciatingly painful. In all the years I have used it, I’ve seen some very strong-willed men crack under its influence after only two doses, begging for death.” He leaned over her with a sneer. “Now tell me what I want to know.”
“I can’t!” Natti cried. “Please understand, I would tell you if I could, but I honestly don’t know anything about a location of Ra’s secret name. All I had was that letter and—”
Natti screamed when his hand latched onto her, pulling the soft inner flesh of her arm toward him. The tip of the needle pierced her pulsing veins.
“Natti!” Seth bellowed when Natti’s screams echoed through the temple corridors. “Natti!”
He struggled against the steel cuffs that bound his wrists to the wall behind him; his skin bruised and bleeding from the effort. He was locked in a small cell across from the purification rooms. All around him were hieroglyphic writings; depictions of prisoners, their torments and their deaths. He kept staring at one in particular. A woman, a Daughter of Isis, lay on an altar while the hem-netjer conducted the sacrificial ritual. The hieroglyphics explained the last moments of her life in detail. The binding of her elements. The milking of her blood. The carving of her heart out from her chest. In the end, three offerings stood at the feet of Set in the Duat: her blood, her heart, and her soul. The scene brought more than terror when the haunting image of the woman connected with Natti’s screams from the offering chamber.
“NATTI!”
What came next was deathly silence. Natti screams had stopped and the halls only hummed from the pumped-in air from the machinery above and the trickling of water from the lake. A shiver left goose bumps over his exposed skin. He was forced to wear nothing but a traditional shendyt, exposing his upper body to the cold and damp. He knew, however, it was his fear and not the air temperature that froze him to the very core.
He tried to catch his breath, a tear escaping his eye. “Natti.”
Footsteps echoed down the corridors, and the door cracked open. A torch glowed in the dim light, revealing two familiar faces. His rage sparked.
“WHAT HAS HE DONE TO HER?”
Q and Ky were taken aback by the abrupt outburst. They were wearing similar clothing to his, except they had bonze colored belts where Seth’s was pure white; the symbol of a wab priest in training verses a sacrifice. Black kohl masked his old friends’ eyes.
“I warned you not to come back,” Q said as Ky stepped inside. “The subordinate priests have gathered. The ritual is about to begin, and you are the main guest.”
Ky raised the keys to the cuffs and unlocked them. Once Seth’s wrists were free, the beast’s blinding rage and bloodlust toward his friends’ betrayal overwhelmed any logical action. He automatically aimed his fist for Ky’s jaw. Ky responded by ducking first and then quickly nailing Seth in the abdomen. The sharp force left Seth gasping for air and knocked most of the fight out his system.
Ky placed a hand on Seth’s back. “Sorry, man, but you brought this on yourself.”
Seth growled, not bothering to call on his charm. Honestly, what would it help, anyway? His father had Natti, and he wouldn’t force Q and Ky to risk their own souls to go against their hem-netjer. They were still his friends, after all, despite their betrayal.
“You know this isn’t right,” he hissed, hoping there might be a chance to reason with them instead. “She doesn’t deserve this.”