Desert Stones

There were always those that would never be missed, Mumm-Ra mused. A naked girl floated over his bubbling cauldron, her long red hair lashing her white skin. His terrified sacrifice squirmed under her invisible bonds, her lips moving wordlessly in prayer to any god that might care to listen. What she failed to realize was that no calls for divine help ever escaped his pyramid.

The mummy raised his arms, annoyed that his decrepit form burned with every movement. "Ancient Spirits of Evil accept this offering!" he intoned in a cracking voice still weakened from what he had suffered at the hands of a stranger many months past. Despite his agony he swept his arm across the cauldron. Lightning bounced in wild arcs over four monstrous statues. The girl, now freed of his spell, fell screaming into the roiling water. The echoes of her anguished cries lasted until the steam boiled away her flesh. A bobbing skeleton slowly disappeared under the liquid. A column of scarlet light shot up from the cauldron, then rained upon him. The mummy sighed in relief as the magic dissipated, and his pain lessened. The weak ambient light of the cauldron now alone remained to illuminate the chamber with a poisonous yellow glow. The sacrifice of a virgin always pleased his master, Set, Lord of the Desert and Chaos.

The ground beneath his feet unexpectedly trembled. Limestone rained down, raising a thick cloud of dust. He did not need to summon an image in his cauldron to know who watched his actions, for he had felt the sweep of her presence even within his sarcophagus. "Are you disturbed, Guardian, because my barrier of Evil can block even you, so that you could not save this little life?" he taunted. "Do you see a whisper of the passage of time because of your other efforts, Cenatua? Does it make you afraid?" The air began to hum as if a thousand bees had taken flight. The mummy continued gleefully, "You may have a long life, but you are not an immortal. Using your power to contravene natural law will eventually whiten your hair, and bend your back. If you persist, the day will come when your master, Surya, will choose another to replace you, so that the Circle protecting Third Earth will remain unbroken." The air began to sparkle with light. "You should be like your mother, Ayasha, and let the lesser beings of this world solve their own problems. Why even the Li'am'ra dealt with the shadow I had sent to pester you. Learn from your mother. Be as ineffectual as she was in your guardianship." The chamber reverberated loudly. A great crack appeared in the walls of the pyramid. "You will never last a thousand years!" Mumm-Ra thundered, pleased that the youngest Guardian of Third Earth had responded to his rebuke with such ferocity, but surprised by her display of power. Although a danger clearly existed to himself, the darkness within her could be fertilized with his malice to produce vile fruit. The Circle of Guardians had never prepared for one such as she, arrogant and vengeful. A light desert wind suddenly blew down from the opening in the top of the pyramid. The presence he had felt had departed. Only the popping of vigorously boiling water remained.

The mummy steepled his fingers in contemplation. Should he risk some of his energy on the shadow servant that had failed in his task? An image formed in his cauldron, reflecting his thoughts. Bound without chains between two pillars of malachite, the shade of a great mountain tiger stood quietly, his captured spirit the only feature on a sand dune that stretched to eternity. His long, dark amber eyes darted in a face contorted with rage; his spectral, orange fur bristled with indignation. Sartren, King of the North, although defeated in life and death, had not surrendered.

Silver light suddenly spiraled around the tiger. The giant Thunderan let out a roar that shook the pyramid once again, setting a new cascade of small stones into the great, bubbling vat. Love hurts, does it not, the mummy thought as he watched the writhing figure. I wonder how the Li'am'ra, a symbol of love, defends the torment he casts upon your wretched soul each day. Perhaps he does not know what pain he inflicts. Imagine his horror when he learns.

But hate is the only the way to both our goals, Mumm-Ra decided. You are a prisoner in his crystal, but I have provided the bleak landscape to foster your fury. The mummy chanted in low tones. A twisting sphere of black and gold formed between his fingers. He flung the luminous globe into the water, creating waves that crashed against the side of the cauldron. The water hissed as it poured over the rim, killing the phosphorescent mold that dwelt on the incised inscriptions.

In a place between dimensions, the two lights fought, opposed snakes, whose presence inflicted unrelenting pain upon the tiger. The wails that came from the deposed king caught in their battle crested in the mummy's hardened heart, and filled it with pleasure.

The warring energies exhausted themselves, turned grey, then vanished. "When evil prevails over good, then the crystal will shatter, and you will be free again, my servant," Mumm-Ra said to the gasping phantom. Sartren rewarded him with a glare of withering hate that charged the chamber with enough energy to cause the malformed statues to glow with satisfaction. Love thwarted could grow such enmity, and for a brief moment, Mumm-Ra wondered what longing still took refuge within Sartren's soul despite all reason.

Love restored could heal such hate, came the unbidden thought from the priest of Anubis still locked within the monstrosity he had become so long ago. Only then did Mumm-Ra know fear.