Tiffany had dressed up somewhat today. It was important. Istar had been kind enough to arrange a meeting with a lady who was supposed to be some sort of specialist. She believed she recalled him saying something about Egyptology, and that was not exactly what she needed, but then again, perhaps it was...

On a dig in Rome, at different times and almost the same location, two canopic jars had been located. The amazing thing, other than the impeccably well-preserved state was the fact that, according to all the tests that could be done without actually breaking the seals on the jars, the hearts trapped inside were... alive. Living, almost... They were not beating, but they were, by all appearances, the same as they had been when they were put inside.

Modern medical doctors would probably kill for such a technique, but there was something... not right about it. A few scraps of parchment, a few inscriptions and engravings on the jars themselves, and the walls of the rooms in which they were found left many questions, seriously freaked out locals, and rather discomfitted dig-workers.

It was odd, and there seemed to be some sort of legend attached to it, though all she could gather were scattered pieces from this source and that, some contacts in Rome, some in Egypt, and some here in Demaitre. Demaitre had not been intended as one of the hot spots for study, but it was large enough to suffice while also being out of the public eye, for the most part, and she had gotten a lot accomplished in a relatively short time.

She had also learned of vampires, though she did not know that Istar himself was one. No, she knew that they existed, and with some number inside the city limits, but not much more than that, and her friend, Mitchifer, had explained what she had asked, asking only secrecy in return, which she felt a small price for knowledge. By this time, they were pretty good friends. If she had known that sweet Colton was a vampire... Well, in spite of the great strides that had overcome her scientific rejection of even the idea of vampires, she could not believe such a timid man could possibly be one - not anymore than she would believe it of little Celeste. However, Mitchifer had warned her that they came in as many forms as the Mortals themselves did. It was odd to think of herself as a 'Mortal', but it was fitting.

Anyway, she had been here for a few hours, coming early to prepare for her meeting with the woman who was coming. She was a bit sketchy on the woman's qualifications, but she supposed that that would work itself off during the interview.

She had laid her research out in organized 'stations' of sorts. She had one canopic jar already in Demaitre, and was negotiating for the other one to be sent, also, for safe-keeping while the investigations were being handled. The public eyes was glaring, private collectors were like hawks over the artifacts, and to top it off, the professor over it all, the one under whom Tiffany had worked, had mysteriously died... She was still a bit shaken after that, but the morale seemed to hold dig-side, and she was hoping to visit again soon, if only to check up on the people.

The jar was of what seemed to be ivory, but... Several things did not add up. She knew that at one point, Rome and Egypt had had close alliances, and she knew the details of that part of each place's past, but what she did not understand, was how a woman's heart, and a baby or small child's, that appeared to be of one family, one blood, should appear in Rome, and be so reminescent of Egyptian burial rites... It was... a quandary, to understate.

She had set up all she could, and nibbling at one annoying, uneven cuticle, she studied the room, from aerial photographs, to maps, to inventories... It was all here, all that she had been working on. An expert in Egyptology might help to form some links where the question marks currently resided. Breathing out a deep breath, she crossed her ankles, sitting in a stool and smoothing her dark green A-line skirt over her hips, and adjusting the matching blazer over the creme blouse beneath. A single strand of pearls gave her a more professional look than she had been taking on lately. Then again, there had been far more of the formal gowns and summer dresses than usual in her free time. And a houseguest to take care. She idly wondered if she had given him that spare key, or forgotten and left it on the writing desk in her entryway...

Nafretiri held out her hand to Lucien, her driver for the evening. He took it elegantly, and helped her step from the car, her expensive black pumps making a clack as she stepped from her car. She nodded her thanks to him with a smile, looking stately though she stood at no more than five feet. He smiled and nodded back as he was paid to do, and asked if she needed an escort. Waving her hand in a dismissive sort of gesture, she told him that no, she was quite capable of walking across the small bit of campus and to this meeting alone.

The sounds of her footfalls echoed through the night, and her white jacket that went to her knees danced around her legs as she moved. Her expression betrayed nothing. It was the look that all business people and expert liars had, sometimes both. On hand tucked a flyaway piece of hair behind her ear, but still, the expression remained. She looked more like someone who should have been attending an expensive after party than a woman who had come for a meeting concerning Egyptology.

Nafretiri did not know the meaning of ‘casual’.

A slight frown pulled at the edges of her face, just barely visible. Istar Indora had not told her the exact meaning for this rendezvous. He had gained a teasing edge to his voice and told her that she’d find out when she got there. How infuriating, but she had kept calm, and had agreed. Her curiosity had been piqued. She wished to know what this top secret experiment or what have you, was about, and why they needed her of all people.

Yes, she had been a Goddess in her own right once upon a time. Sekhmet. She had seen more than most people could dream of, and the meeting was in the archaeological section of the University. Perhaps she was supposed to aid in deciphering some hieroglyphics? She did not know. Whatever it was, she would have to be especially careful as to not give anything away. It would not do to squish the theories of others with the truth that she could neither prove, nor of which had any record been found. It was a precaution she often had to make when speaking with those adept at ancient cultures – her cultures.

She pushed the door open, and looked around, her face gaining only a slight puzzlement. She asked an elderly mortal who was mopping the floors if he could be of some assistance. He could, thank heavens. He directed her to a room down the hall. She nodded and thanked him, before setting off, her high heels leaving impressions in the freshly cleaned floor. She felt somewhat guilty, but there was nothing to be done about it.

Knocking once, she did not wait for an answer before entering. “Dr. Cowper?” Her eyes scanned the room, and settled upon a woman that seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite place…

Oh. This was Tristan’s companion’s friend. How… curious.

Tiffany was not dressed shabbily, but when Nafretiri entered, that was certainly what she felt. She could tell instantly that this was the sort of woman who could swim the English Channel, cross the Sahara, and climb Everest in twenty-four hours and still retain perfect hair and clothing. Perhaps not literally, but you know the type. Hm. Interesting.

Stepping forward quickly, she scooched the stool back against the wall and came forward with an extended hand.

"Yes, yes, I am Dr. Cowper. I presume that you are the... erm... Egyptologist? The expert that Mr. Indora directed me to?"

Smiling sincerely, but with a little more gravity due to the nature of the meeting, she gestured to the island-like surface over which everything was spread.

"I do hope I do not sound too curt, but there is a lot to cover, and never enough time in a day. Shall we begin?"

She had already rounded the central desk, nudging a few glossy photos towards Nafretiri. Moving across the room with black pieces of what looked like overhead transparencies in one hand, she slipped them up into a holder above a whiteboard similar in appearance to those in classrooms, but once all the transparencies were up, she stepped to the side and flipped a switch, revealing X-ray results, of sorts, of the contents of each jar. They were neatly labeled in her small, curved handwriting, almost too scripted to be simple handwriting.

"If you would lend me your attention for the moment, I would direct you attention first to the graphic on your far left. That is the internal view of the first jar that was found, as nearly as we can see it without breaking into the jars, which we are trying to avoid. At the moment there is some speculation that it might be rigged, that something poisonous or toxic is inside. That on top of the normal fears of damaging something had inhibited us from taking those steps. I would reassure you now, though I do not know exactly your affiliations, that this dig, and the members of it, are of scholarly interest, and that any attempts at grave-robbing or personal exploitation of findings is discouraged and severely punished. We are not digging to offend or to destroy, but to gain knowledge."

"That said, I hold you in confidence, and everything that is said here must stay between us, with the exception of Mr. Indora, and any other staff or faculty of Demaitre University or the local Museum and Gallery."

She disliked the paperwork, the dimplomatic parts and the bureaucratic loophole. She envied the far, long ago times when saying 'yes' and 'no' and giving a verbal agreement was all that was needed. Frankly, the mistrust and backbiting of this day and age were a huge pain in the butt. For all people complained, it was their own fault, herself not excluded. Drawing another deep breath, she moved past the little disclaimerish portion of the meeting.

"I am not sure how much Ist- Mr. Indora told you, but you should know that the... details... of this particular study are both shady, difficult to resolve, and very much of interest to the archaeological world. There are rumors," she smiled, knowing now of vampires made this harder to say, yet she must still seem as thought she was an unbeliever. Clearly, she had not noticed Nafretiri at the mock party thrown at Aracind's manor house. "That there are horrid monsters that were defeated. It almost sounds as if the... beings to whom these hearts belonged were evil, and - pardon the pun - heartless. It is, if I am reading these inscriptions right," she tossed a plastic baggy with scrawled notes and photos of both the engravings on the jars and the paintings, et cetera where they were found. "A reference to beings of immense, terrible power. Those who would cause much shedding of blood, perhaps even have some sort of drawing of power from the ingestion of it. They would stalk the people of Rome... Really not the sort of things you would want to meet in the dead of night. Whatever it was, it appears that one is a mother, and one is a child. They were found at different times, and at different places, yet a statue with similar foreboding inscriptions seems to indicate a connection."

"It is... elusive, haunting. There were tests run, and the jars date back, without a doubt, to a certain point in Roman history. Yet... Well, the contents cannot be dated without removing them, but at the moment I am a major proponent for the opinion that we will find the hearts inside are no more decayed than they had been inserted into the canopic jars more than a few hours. They appear," she moved back to the transparencies that showed an eerie blue from the light behind them, "to be perfect, intact."

Her brow furrowed.

"All in all, it is very... mysterious. These myths, legends, what-have-you, tell of 'unspeakable evil', beings so potent and vile, awful and awesome, that the people were in dire dread of them... It almost sounds like an ancient god, if only I believed in such. Perhaps they were something, but I refuse to believe they were diety without irrefutable proof. Really, there is just too much unsure to make any solid hypothesis as to the nature of the beings. Opening the jars would reveal a lot, but..."

"Another thing that is piquing at me is the absence of bodies. There were tombs, thick chains - it was as if someone who had commited wretched, heinous crimes, had been bound so that it took us three weeks just to penetrate to the inner burial place. It was so thick, so layered, and there were gaseous pockets, every Egyptian burial trick, incorporated with some very nasty Roman twists. Forunately, no one was seriously hurt."

There was no need to mention the Professor, since that was not dig-related.

"When we finally managed to open the sarcophagus, the actual coffin... But..."

Her face looked perplexed as she remembered.

"There was... Well, there was simply nothing there. We searched high and low, but that was the only place anything could have been buried... And the burial places were undisturbed - so nothing had gotten in or out. It is... inconceivable. At first I thought it a hoax, but too many things point to other things. How...? The bodies, if they were there, or the mummies, as it may be, were not in the place - in fact, we have no idea where they are. Traces inside the sarcophagus were found, and it is likely that, should we choose to break into the jars, we will find a match. I myself think it likely. So where are our bodies... I cannot imagine."

"I retested the jars as much as I could, and found no more, save a few of the markings that had been overlooked." She could read and translate hieroglyphics with the best in her field, and was rather proud of it, though Nafretiri might have laughed at her pronunciation with all that had been lost since her time as Sekhmet.

"Well, that should be quite enough to digest to begin with. Do you have any questions or... possibly suggestions?"

She also saved mentioning the curses and hexes promisesd the members who invaded the tombs. Those were commonly found, just one of many attempts to prevent robbers and curiosity-seekers to let it go, and not risk the wrath of the dead.

Tiffany had connected no significance to the manner of the Professor's death, and perhaps she should have, but it was the farthest thing from her mind at the moment.

“Yes, I am Nafretiri Afrikaisi, the one who could be called an Egyptologist.”

Nafretiri picked up the photographs, happily surprised that her hands weren’t shaking, though her face remained neutral the entire time. There was something… unnatural in this room. It seeped into her very bones until she felt like shuddering. Her skin crawled, and she had the sudden urge to start scratching, but thankfully, held off. It would not do to do such things in front of Dr. Cowper, distant acquaintance or not. Showing weaknesses in front of anyone – even mortals – was not acceptable to her. One must remain composed at all times in public. Drawing too much attention to oneself simply wasn’t an option.

That said, Dr. Tiffany Cowper didn’t seem to recognize her. Fair enough. It made things a tad more interesting.

Dread filled her as she looked at the photographs, her fingers shaking minutely as she trailed her fingers along them. She put them down, with the backs of the photos facing upwards so that she didn’t have to look at them. She walked with soft, almost fluid steps towards the transparencies.

“I understand,” she said, her voice a little deeper than usual as she tried to keep the tremor out of it. Why these things were affecting her so greatly, she couldn’t be sure. Hesitantly, her finger came up to trace the outline of the heart illuminated before her. “My affiliations are few, though I most often work with the British Museum. I suppose you could call me a sponsor, as I do not often dig myself. I fear the hot Egyptian sun does not take well to me.” And such a statement was true. Were she to go out, she would die within moments. Dr. Cowper, however, did not need to know this, not yet. “I will not leak your story to the general public, and I am glad your intentions are honourable.” She turned those oh so dark eyes towards the Doctor. “If they were not… I believe you may have found an enemy in me.”

Raising an eyebrow, Nafretiri turned away, placing her palms on the tabletop. “Those who would cause much shedding of blood,” she repeated quietly. It sounded far too much like herself in her prime. Her eyelids fluttered closed for a moment, as she thought. When she had been Sekhmet, the streets had been rivers of blood. She had waded through it, her gowns stained, her eyes distant. The mortals had feared her even more than the God Re at that point. They had dubbed her a Goddess, for what else but a Goddess could inflict such pain? What indeed. A single tear rolled down the cheek opposite the doctor, but it was hastily wiped away.

“I suppose mysterious would be one word used to describe it,” said Nafretiri, standing tall again. She cast a glance at the doctor for a moment. “Excuse me for a moment would you?” She walked a few meters away, before pulling out her cell phone – everyone needed one, according to Amandine – and dialled a number. She spoke quietly for a moment, mainly consisting of ‘hello’, ‘yes I’m fine’, ‘later, of course’ and ‘goodbye’. She turned around and walked back.

Folding her arms, she leaned against the wall opposite the doctor. “You know more than you’re telling me. You know of these unspeakable evils that are written about on the jars and in the tombs.” The Egyptian woman paused, silent for a long time, before speaking in a voice barely above a whisper. “Perhaps, Dr. Cowper, it is time that you start believing in ancient gods.” Her eyes flickered to meet the mortal woman’s.

“These… these jars are… There is something that causes a dread in me about them. My intuition says they are not to be trusted, that there is something off about them. I am usually right about most things.” Arrogance? Maybe. The truth? Yes. “There are things in this world that can avoid those traps set out quite easily, beings that could easily have taken your corpses.” A hand stroked her chin thoughtfully. “But… then, you already knew that, did you not?”

She pushed off from the wall, and looked at the jar, her hand a few inches from it, and shaking. “I can read the writing, all of it, as easily as you read English.” She closed her eyes. “But… I already knew about these jars, and their contents, before Istar Indora even contacted me.” There was a pained look on her face. “And your experts were right to think that there was a plague inside. There is.” There was an expression of deep sadness on her face. “Sekhmet’s plague.”

"A pleasure, Ms. Afrikaisi... or is it Dr. Afrikaisi?"

A sublte way of measuring qualifications. She doubted Istar would suggest anyone who would be unable to help, and it was more to see... Well, if she had been one of the doctors from some of the rivalling sites, et cetera, then she would have recognized the name, surely, as she had made it a point to learn them. This was, at least, the question would be inferred as titular clarification, she hoped.

"The British Museum..." Tiffany nodded. On the whole, that was preferable. There were little pockets of inexperienced professors everywhere who wanted to be part of the discoveries, but even among those, the British Museum was one of the more reserved of the museums, which she appreciated. Most museums had already sent curators clamouring, but with one jar here in Demaitre as her ward, of sorts, and the other on the way, attempts at gaining them both overt and underhanded had so far been foiled.

She smiled genuinely through her fair Irish skin. "To some of us the sun is very unkind, and I sympathize." Chuckling, she idly wondered how bad it would be in Demaitre, where the climate was cooler than in her hometown...

Tiffany felt that the woman's eyes bore into her, and she was glad she had nothing to hide, though she felt a bit guilty anyway. Leaking to the general public, or anyone else, would make a very, very unhappy, angry Tiffany. That was hard to do - but not very pleasant. Although, it was doubtful she could have done much by way of punishment where Nafretiri was concerned...

When Ms. Afrikaisi was silent for a rather long moment, Tiffany parted her lips to ask if she was feeling alright. She responded before she could, however.

"Yes, of course."

Her eyes followed Nafretiri, but she turned as she began to speak, busying herself by leafing through the lists of names again. These people were involved in the site, in the original discovery, the research... But something struck her the wrong way... Her professor had been aging, but he was so healthy, always digside, incredibly healthy for his age. He must have been in his early sixties, but it would have been hard to tell if you had not known him. Rugged, and used to the harsh temperatures and weather of the deserts, he looked in his late thirties, or early forties. It was sad that he should go, because not only had he taught her, apprenticed her, but been a sort of father to her in her studies and travels, a mentor that she would never be able to replace. Sighing, she tapped the papers on the table to even the edges and then slapped them onto the surface hard enough to make the papers fan at crazy angles.

Nafretiri was awarded a tight smile for her next line of speech.

"I do not know, though there is that which I suspect, Mr. Afrikaisi. Perhaps, if evidence is provided, I might indeed believe in the gods. Mythology - a point of great interest, and yet, it is something that cultures created to centralize their beliefs, among other things. Something at times used to instill fear by rulers. However, regardless of what I believe in the divine sphere, I do believe that... there..." A shadow passed over her eyes as she weighed her words. "I do not know what you believe, Mr. Afrikaisi, and in most things I am extremely skeptical. These beings sound very much... vampiric. I have no evidence that they were, other than the records which I have found, though I feel certain there was indeed some sort of ingestion of it into the predators. And I believe that somehow, whether in conjunction with other things or not, that was the reason that finally the beings, imbued with such evil, were punished. What I do not understand, is why every trace was not destroyed."

"Judging from past experiences, from old records... Well, even look at modern man. We ignore the things we dislike, and we bury the bad as soon as it can be eradicated. Why not obliterate the beings, and every trace of them? If they were so incredibly evil, then why allow knowledge of them to pass on? Unless, of course, they figured that the place was so sacred, guarded, or something... At the time that the... beings... were entombed - or imprisoned?"

"As far as knowing what could penetrate into the seals..."

She regarded Nafretiri with a blunt frankness that was not within her normal mannerisms, eyes completely open, for as long as it took to speak the sentence.

"There is nothing I know of that, by my estimations, could have absconded with corpses that were sealed inside. Three weeks with an elite team to get into the sarcophagus, and another to complete the job. It was complete sealed off, and had never - never - been broken. Few things are so clear-cut, but I can say with a certainty that they have not been opened. Yet, the traces of life remain, and something or someone must have escaped..."

She turned her face for a moment, drawing a breath. What she knew now... What she believed, made what she had discovered, what she was studying, even more perplexing - and a lot scarier. She did not understand Nafretiri's trepidation, perhaps, but in small part she was beginning to understand that being a vampire was not purely waiting around for centuries - that there were politics and strifes that spanned centuries... And they would never really be at rest, nor be assured the Mortality that made such harsh bitter aspects of life tolerable.

The woman's sadness was odd to Tiffany, and she saw no reason for the pain in the expression on her face. She stepped once, almost as if she intended to slip an arm about her. Nafretiri really seemed upset. her eyes flickered from her face to the canopic jar resting so peacefully on the desk for their inspection.

"Sekhmet's plague?" Tiffany ran through her memory. "Sekhmet was... the... wife of Ptah, yes? War and destruction... If I recall correctly, her very existence was a punishment to men because of their rebellions against the Egyptian god, Re..."

A slight twist of the lips made a grim smirk.

"Fitting somehow... The ultimate evil guarded by the very goddess intended to plague and destroy mankind. That makes no sense. War and destruction - plague would fit into it well, but why place that sort of thing over something that might harm mankind? Why not simply let the beings roam free... Or... I wonder what the Sekhmet had to do with it."

She smiled, shaking her head ruefully.

"If one was to believe in the gods, it would be very enlightening to be able to simple talk with them."

Stretching nervously, she stared at the jar.

"I suppose I should run a few more tests... Perhaps some toxicology, to ensure that the seal is, and will remain unbroken. Sometimes in climate shifts there are difficulties. I will also organize a sort of containment groups should something happen, but I would like to keep them out of it if possible - things tend to revert to government at that point, which we definitely do not need..."

"Tell me more of this plague? We shall certainly leave it closed for the time being. What are the properties of it? I have never heard mention of it, I think..."

As though a student again, she perched back on her stool and drew a legal pad to her, ready to take notes.

“It is simply Ms. Afrikaisi, but the pleasure is all mine, Dr. Cowper.”

Nafretiri forced a smile, not wanting to seem unfriendly. She could see what this woman before her was doing. It was not all that difficult to tell. Subtle word games in order to glean the truth from someone who did not realize they were revealing any. This Tiffany Cowper was indeed an intelligent woman, showing intelligence in artefacts as well as people.

Holding in a chuckle, Nafretiri raised an eyebrow. “Yes, it can indeed.” Of course, most mortals did not suffer the embarrassment of bursting into flame when going for a short walk into the sunshine. Now, however, was not the time for such things. When Dr. Cowper brought up the subject of her kind, Nafretiri would continue it. Not before. She did not wish to be made out as an eccentric in the circles in which she travelled. If one jumped to the conclusion of vampires in front of a student of history – even one who was as intelligent, and who knew about such things as Tiffany Cowper – it led to only disaster.

Drawing herself up to her full height, she tried to look as stately as possible as they conversed about the gods. Some called her a myth, a legend, but whatever they may say, she was a goddess, considered a divine being made flesh by many, mortal and immortal alike. Never in history had anyone else possessed this plague. What else could it be? Other abilities were beginning to be explained by this modern science, but not her plague. How could one hold such a crippling disease within their body to pass out whenever one felt like it, but not suffer the effects of it? Everyone who was infected died, unless she reversed it. Everyone.

“You would be right in your conclusion that they sound vampiric,” nodded Nafretiri, fiddling with her pendant in the shape of a lion’s head. “Creatures of evil, who drink blood? Yes, it sounds most vampiric.” There was a distant look on her face, complete with a slight frown. “I believe a great many things, Dr. Cowper. I have walked with gods.” That was the end of that. Let the doctor see what she thought of that.

“It was imprisonment,” continued Nafretiri quietly, her gaze focused on the canopic jar. “If not, there would not have been screams, and tears, and the steadfast neutrality of those that put them there. They were not destroyed because no one believed they posed that large a threat. Not yet. The hieroglyphics and writings detailing this were so that those that survived to see this day would know what and who it was.”

She paused. When she spoke again, her voice was distant, as if she’d forgotten that anyone was there. “I had long forgotten this. It was not supposed to be found. It was on property that had been mine until… Damn them…” There was a hint of some kind of sad desperation in her voice. “I never knew what they wanted with it, what they’d done, and none would tell me. I was young then, and they were powerful. I had no choice but to obey. I could have killed them all yes, but it would have brought others down upon me. I had seen enough death, so I did as they asked.” Her hands were balled into tight fists, and tiny rivets of blood dripped onto the floor. “I did not think they would ever be found.”

Turning her intimidating gaze upon the woman, Nafretiri realized that she must have been muttering to herself, but it was too late to do anything about that. “What about air, Dr. Cowper? Mist? If there were a hole in the walls of the tomb, even formed after it was sealed, there is one thing that could have entered it.” Her eyes were cool as she regarded her would be associate. “You apparently have only begun to scratch the surface of the world you have uncovered. There is very little in this world that is impossible if you have the right accomplices, Dr. Cowper. Being a friend of the Lanorus clan, I assume you know as much?” She turned and removed her jacket, revealing a rather expensive looking black velvet cocktail dress.

As she folded and smoothed out her coat, she watched the good doctor from the corner of her eye, trying to gauge her reactions. Would she think that Nafretiri meant her harm? Perhaps, it was possible. Was it likely? Nafretiri didn’t think so. She assumed the doctor would assume that had she been a threat, either Mitchifer or Tristan, or however many more of the same line that were milling about, would have killed her. A part of her brain, the arrogant part perhaps, scoffed. Tristan was the only one among them who had any chance in killing her, and even that was uncertain. If she infected him with the plague, and he killed her, he would slowly wither away.

She was Sekhmet. She would not be bested.

“I thought you would know of her. Yes, she was known as the wife of Ptah in mythology, and was the Eye of Re, sent down to smite the world when they questioned his authority. However, she soon developed a taste for blood, and did not cease her killings, even when Re demanded of her. He had to trick her with beer dyed red to calm her, and convince her to stop.” Nafretiri closed her eyes. When she opened them a few moments later, they appeared to have gone completely neutral, like an animal. If left alone, it would continue peacefully. If not, it would attack.

Here’s hoping Dr. Cowper didn’t try anything.

“The one known as Sekhmet was only used because she was handy. Those that were her superiors found that if they put her plague upon these things. People feared her. They would not touch things that had caused so much devastation.” She gave a small smirk. “But now it is the age of science, not mythology, as it were. No one here believes in gods anymore, and so the simple use of her name means nothing. She is simply the silly superstition of the ancients, nothing more.”

She gave a bitter laugh, “But apparently her plague lives on. I know this better than anyone. There is nothing that can destroy the contained plague. Open it, and you die.” She took a deep shuddering breath. “You have not heard of it as it has not surfaced in over three millennia. The properties… Well, they say you can only gain such a disease from the touch of the goddess herself. They start out feeling fine, but then it presents itself like influenza, until they begin to cough up blood and tissue. For mortals, their skin dries, becomes hard, and cracks, secreting pus and blood. Then they are confined to bed, as they cannot walk. They cannot eat nor drink, because their bodies reject it. They then come to have severe headaches, and intestinal pain. Do you know why Dr. Cowper?” It was a rhetorical question, made all the more eerie by those dead eyes. “Because they are literally being cooked from the inside. Their insides boil and liquefy and run from the body. There is no stopping it. There is no treatment, and there is no cure, save if Sekhmet wishes to remove it.”

Nafretiri loosened her grip, revealing bloody palms. She retrieved a handkerchief from her pocket, quiet aware that there was blood on her coat. She’d have to have it cleaned. She wiped her hands, as the spoke to the doctor, though she did not look at her. “If one was to believe in gods, one would say you were already speaking with one.” It was said simply, like one talking about the weather, but the implication hung in the air.

They were not on ill terms, but something in the look they exchanged as 'Ms. Afrikaisi' was established allowed Tiffany a glimpse of how this was going to go. The woman was wise, probably wiser than she, but with a little caution it was not unthinkable that she might benefit from this meeting. She had no desire to back anyone into a corner, but she could be tenacious, though she hoped that she did not get the better of herself, and let tact lead the way.

Dr. Cowper well understood the need to be careful in even suggesting vampiricy... She had thus far avoided anything beyond a vague reference to it in her original study notes, explaining that some of the inscriptions seemed to indicate a similar type of 'feeding', or ingestion as was brought to mind by modern vampire myths. Or the realities that she had come to know them for...

Walked with the gods. Vampires she would give, but gods? Tiffany held no particular belief, but while she would not claim any sort of religion, she believed that there was common sense in many religious teachings, and that some sort of Divine Being or Beings had a hand in the matters of men. But walking with them? It was then that the face began to take on a vaguely familiar aspect, and Tiffany became less comfortable being alone in the room with this woman.

Her eyelids lowered slightly, and she flowed a few notes onto the page, recording what the woman said. She was suspicious now, for the way the woman was speaking sounded too familiar with the subject matter, as though reverting into personal memories. Either that or she had studied this long and hard, and... Well, Tiffany had her doubts on that. Even pure study would have too many gaps to make universal statements as Nafretiri was, unless she was the sort of person to make idle claims - and Tiffany was dubious on that score.

For a moment, she hesitated, not responding, but considering that possibility... Imprisonment... For three millenia she was willing to bet that the places where the sarcophagi had lain were untampered with, but in there sometime something must have occured... Something was missing still, and it was something important. Part of the problem was the caution in each woman present - both were covering themselves, both unsure of the other, but this slow feeling out was taking too long, and wasting time better spent otherwise. It was her project, so why not... The lady was dropping hints left and right, and though there was still that possibility that she was barking up the wrong tree, so to say, it was worth the risk, in her estimation. After all, no one ever got anywhere worth being without a little risk.

"And a select few know what it is. I will be perfectly honest and admit that even being quite adept by todays standards, I have not completed the correct etemological translation of all the wording left for us. Because it was left for us, was it not? If what you say is true, then we already know what. At least, you and I... have a hypothesis, and educated assumption which may yet be proven. But..." Her eyes were a little catty, attempting to stab right back, though her posture was relaxed and non-aggressive. "If anyone present knows who was entombed, it is not I. And though I have a relative idea of how, the why and the by whom elude me still."

Her body tensed a little, not to attack, but to defend herself if this retrospect proved unfavorable... She was trusting Mr. Indora for far more than... Wait a minute...

Her eyes narrowed farther as Nafretiri continued.

Risks. She had promised to tell no one of her knowledge of Mitchifer.

"Lanorus... Tristan... Vampires. As are you, I presume? You know too much. I am also to assume then, I suppose, that Mr. Indora is the same. I suppose it is possible he is a Mortal who simply knows as much as I, but then again, I have never seen him by the light of day, so that in and of itself is enough to make me wonder, these days..."

She took a deep breath. There were pitfalls in this conversation. Ms. Afrikaisi would not have mentioned it at all, nor the gods, if she did not intend to discuss it, but there was also something there that appeared something of a raw nerve, and both for profession's sake, and for her personal health, she did not want to aggravate it... too much.

"Perhaps if we allow ourselves to desist from the riddled speech and speak plainly then we would accomplish more, and avoid these teasing comments. I deal in facts, Ms Afrikaisi, and while there are some things I am willing to take on faith, I greatly prefer to stay on firm ground."

"You know more than you are saying. To whom did you yield your property? And who were they? Who was imprisoned and who did the imprisoning? If they were indeed vampires, then why were they taken, why was it allowed, and how is it that some escaped while they were caught? How was it known? It was a mother and a child, by all indications. What threat could a child pose?"

She let down her hair, combing a hand through it, and laughin ironically.

"I mean, the age... It was little more than a baby by all means, as far as we could tell. What harm in a baby?"

She scrawled quickly, taking notes, writing down questions to wich she required answers, at the same time fidgeting distractedly.

"This plague sounds much like... Ebola. The bleeding, the fever - both symptoms of that illness, which until recent times has had no cure."

She regarded the other woman curiously, knowing there was a breach of faith between them. It was not mistrust of each other, but the simple fact that while Nafretiri, Sekhmet, whatever her name was, believed in the gods of which she spoke, while to Tiffany they were representations of what men felt they deserved, or what should rule over them. They were man-made, held the characteristics of men, and were susceptible to the same plagues, both physical and mental, emotional as well, as were Mortal men. No, there were too many fallacies for the Doctor to believe. But she would lend a suspension of disbelief until she had need to prove otherwise. Indulgence might be the way to learn, and she was more than willing to indulge at the moment.

"I will tell you what I know about the dig, and I will do one better still. If you agree, I would be happy to have you escort me digside in Rome, where I will show you the places where these were found. A long-waived homecoming for you, perhaps, if what you say is indeed valid."

"I give implicit trust to the student who oversaw the opening. Not a professor, nor a doctor, but she was the foremost on the techiniques being employed, so under the supervision and with the blessing and support of her mentor, she planned and oversaw the excavation of the two tombs, we shall call them. At the time that they were found, they were completely cleaned up, before penetration inward. As far as can be acruately told, there was nothing. Not a crack, not an air hole. Nothing. There were tests run all around the structures, around the rooms, the doorways, to see if there was gaseous material inside. They were sealed tight - the test all came back negative, and that is almost impossible as it is, very rare. Most digs show at least a little leakage, and only the most time-consuming, well-built structures and tombs, even of the intrepid Egyptians are so well fitted as to prevent such. But there was nothing, and despite numerous testing, the opening spewed salt-infused, acidic gases - and old trick, but unexpected in Rome, you see. At the time, up until then, everything had followed Roman and Hellenistic patterns, and there was no reason to suspect Egyptian culture or technique to be employed. A near-fatal mistake. Two undergrad.s involved in the excavation were seriously burned, though treatments proved successful, and one if fully recovered with the other rapidly following."

She breathed in, pinching the bridge of her nose for a moment, and sliding her hand to press her cheek palm-in.

"The dig was resumed after a twenty-four hour delay, and it was readily apparent that the antechamber was only the beginning. The excavation was slow, and difficult, and the perfectionist tendencies of the overseer tended to clash with the goading curators, and rival professors on the sight. But the Dig Master was on the student's side, and promised that if all went well, her doctorate would be a breeze, since this was the last summer of her coursework - the archeological equivalent of internship, you see."

"After three weeks of testing, digging, testing, digging, documenting each step to preseve any knowledge, method, or structure specification for later, the team arrived in the innermost sanctuary, and began clearing the sarcophagus. You see, it was buried solidly in stone. Almost as though it were cast in stone. If I did not know better, I would say that the coffins had been petrified, or embedded in the stone long ago, and moved into the chambers."

"I was there when the sarcophagus was finally opened. Every shell, layer was written down, detailed, photographed, sketched, chemically and biologically tested."

She reached over and tossed a thick cheaf of papers and pictures to plop heavily in front of Nafretiri, a tired look about her eyes and mouth now, causing one of the rare times when she seemed more her age than a junior high student.

"Those tombs were air-tight, sealed, chained, locked in stone, wood, guarded by the skeletons found about it, barred, sealed, booby-trapped, and buried so deeply that it has taken two years of one dig, and six of another to lay hold of them, unaware that they even existed."

"I know about vampires, yes, and even if Deities existed, they would have to be capable of defying multiple laws of science to displace matter, walk through walls, and bring something that, by all appearances, was a physical object back with them. There are remnants of organic matter in each sarcophagus."

She looked about and massaged her shoulder just short of her neck.

"Not even a vampire. I have no answer, and even with the little I know of your world, there is nothing I can see capable of that sort of feat. Regardless of the plague. I do not deny that it sounds terrifying, and I cannot imagine living it out, but that... There is something more, something missing. The puzzle is there, but we miss a part of the picture, I can tell, and it irks me, but frustrating as it is, I cannot see what I am missing. And it has to be here."

Towards the end her voice sounded a little desperate. She had worked so hard. She knew she could break it open, knew that she was close. She just had to find the key. To return to Rome would be beneficial, and perhaps it would prove similarly so for Nafretiri. Swallowing, she knew that it would also be a time to get some closure seeing the others again, to pay her respects to her serrogate father.

It was obvious to Nafretiri that the woman before her did not entirely believe that she was a goddess. The small, arrogant part of her being was tempted to show her just how much of a goddess she was, but the calm business woman side of her knew that that was not in her best interests at the moment, however much her pride may be wounded. She leaned against a counter and folded her hands in front of her. Her face was a blank mask, displaying none of what she was feeling inside, and she assumed that this was good. The last thing she wanted was to frighten Dr. Tiffany Cowper off. No, that would not do at all.

And in truth, she couldn’t blame this young woman before her for not believing in goddesses or gods or deities of any kind. Nafretiri had long since resigned herself to the fact that this was an act of science. Even the Catholic church, a church that had murdered hundreds of thousands of ‘heathens’ in the name of their God held little sway in the world any longer. This age was about technology, and proof that something was right. Faith was almost unanimously dead. Religion had no place in the preconceptions or judgements of people or the places they lived in. It had no place in the education that children – or even adults – received. It was all but dead, taken over by electronics and molecular biology.

Nafretiri had been left behind, almost like the mummies that Dr. Cowper was fascinated with. In truth, that should’ve been her. She should’ve lived a full life with her sons, her despised husband, and the duty to Hathor that she’d been born into. She should’ve seen grandchildren, and died, and been mummified in the ways of her people, to ascend to a new life among her ancestors. Instead, she’d been given something she’d asked for, immortality, for the love of a man who didn’t even exist any longer. Not even the wind called his name any longer. He was not ash, or bones, or flesh. He was gone, and all that remained of him were Nafretiri’s memories of him, looking so much like blurry photographs.

Her eyes watered.

Pursing her lips into a thin line, she looked at the ceiling for a moment and all but ordered herself to get a hold on her emotions. This was no way to behave in front of an audience. The past was the past. There should be no regrets. There should be no guilt for those actions which had already been done, especially not in front of a mere acquaintance. Gods, what would Benipé think, looking at her now?

When she felt confident enough to speak, she said, “I can not assume to speak for Master Indora. If he is like I am, it is for him to tell, and not for me to describe.” The Egyptian woman gave a small, almost amused laugh. “Vampire. That word is so gaudy. I have seen the films mortals create about vampires.” She pushed off from the counter and seemed to strike a little pose. She was smiling now, her eyes twinkling. “Do I look like a mindless demonic blood-sucking fiend, Doctor?” She waved her hand in dismissal. “Don’t answer that. I don’t think I’d like to know. I prefer to think of myself as… I’m not even sure what.” There was a small, but plainly sad smile on her face.

“But yes, I am among those that… the vampires,” she conceded. Her eyes got a tad distant, and though she was still smiling, it was obvious she was quite cheerless. “I have been one for almost as long as my memory can stretch. I forget most of what’s in the middle of my history I’m afraid. I remember the beginning, and the present, but not much after that.” There was a sound from her that could have been a breathy laugh, or a breathy sob. “I don’t even really know how old I am. I lost track a long time ago, however, I can tell you that I was born when Egypt was still beautiful, in the reign of Pharaoh Tao II.” This time, the smile was larger. “I was built into this body by the gods before even Rameses II built the lovely Abu Simbel for his wife Nefertiri.”

Part of her was telling her to stop. The other wanted to prove something to this woman. “My childhood name was Banafrit. My adult name was Ia. My father was Mhotep, High Priest of Hathor. My mother, Meskenit, was one of the priestess. They were distant cousins, married together. I had five older brothers, and one younger sister. I married one of my brothers, to the distaste of many. His name was Menetnashté. Together, I bore him three sons: Wati, Akhom and Kashta.” She stopped there, and regarded the woman in front of her carefully. “I have seen much, Tiffany Cowper. You may not believe me a goddess, and I suppose I can understand this, but I want you to know this: I am the closest thing this world has. If I so felt like it, I could destroy the entire world.” Her eyes seemed to flash almost catlike at this.

There was a pause, and Nafretiri sighed. Hugging herself, she seemed to walk almost in a circle, debating within herself what to do. She sighed again, before turning back to the young (oh so young) woman in front of her. “The men that took my land from me? Vampires, ancients ones. At this time, I was young by our standards. I was merely half a millennia old. Who was I to deny those three thousand years my elder? I gave them my land, and the plague that this body of mine contains, but I knew nothing. I was not privy to that information, and I don’t pretend I was. I don’t pretend to know why they would kill a mother or child.”

She met Tiffany’s eyes head on. “As a mother, I cannot imagine. You ask what one child could do, and in truth, as a child, he or she could do nothing. However, it has happened in the past that children have been used as leverage. They have been legitimate sons cast out as bastards who seek revenge on their crippled fathers later in life. Yes, that has happened many times.”

Walking forward, she touched the projection on the screen. “I do not think that’s what it was, however. If these two were the two that threatened those men and women who buried them, they would not have marked their tomb. They would have cut out their hearts and burned them, until not even ashes remained.” Her voice was different, mysterious, and one could even go so far as to say mystical. “No, that’s not what these hearts are telling me. That’s not what they’re saying at all. They belonged to someone far different. Who? I am not sure, but… it was they who threatened the ones I encountered. It was they that were sought to be destroyed… but they couldn’t be, not fully.” Nafretiri’s eyes were now a tad glazed over. “What secrets do you keep, giants of the past?”

Balling her hand into a fist, she turned around and smiled at the Doctor. “Were that those I encountered so long ago still alive. Alas, they have all undoubtedly walked into the sunlight by now.” She gave another longsuffering smile. “The years weigh heavily upon the mind, until one takes no joy in simple pleasures.”

Internally, she was considering the offer that had been given to her to journey with this woman to Rome. It had been a very long time since she’d been to Rome… The old district, her rejuvenated villa. Funny, she had not even known that there was an excavation going on a mere mile from her villa, on land she had owned three thousand years prior. It would be an ideal location for Dr. Cowper and herself – and whoever else the doctor felt they needed – to stay while there. It would also give her a chance to review the accounts and view the vineyards to see if they were sufficiently flourishing.

“I will go with you to Rome,” she said, finally. Her entire body depicted determination. “We will stay my villa. If the secrets we wish to uncover are as dark as I suspect they may be, we should not endanger the general public. I cannot speak for you, but I do not fancy handing my head over to the Amman for a breach in secrecy concerning the living shadows of the night.” She gave a wan smile.

“As for laws Doctor, I have found that even the strictest law can be broken. Look at the curse I carry. Should it not be scientifically impossible to give and take plague at will? It is not Ebola; I can assure you of that. Ebola does not make men akin to the mummies you dig up in the deserts, and Ebola does not stump the doctors who now have access to so much technology. I wish to Re, and my entire pantheon that I didn’t have this curse, and it is a curse. It may come in handy when fearing for my life, but I will never forget those screams. Can you imagine it doctor? People by the thousands, screaming and weeping for their loved ones, and for themselves. Not even half of them got to the afterlife. The embalmers were dead.”

She took a shaky breath. “I do not regret it, for it taught me to value life and it taught me the vast destruction I could reap when anger consumes me. I have a terrible penchant for vengeance should someone push me to my boundaries, doctor. Thankfully, it has not happened in three thousand years. However, they did not institute me into the Egyptian pantheon for no reason. I am retribution personified, and as long as you are with me, on this quest as it were,” Here her mouth quirked, “You have my protection.”

And Re help her, Nafretiri would protect her from whatever ghosts of the past they might encounter.

There was something, for all her businesslike ways, about Nafretiri that allowed Tiffany to see a person in her. Not a Human, exactly, though she supposed the woman was in a way... But something that Tiffany could sympathize with, someone she could relate to...

Nonetheless, it was clear that that was not something the other woman wished to be seen... And now was not the time to press the matter, so Tiffany smiled vaguely, and let it pass by her.

Her smile grew into something like a smirk as Nafretiri gave her an exceedingly diplomatic answer concerning Mr. Indora... Tiffany was of the opinion that silence often meant consent - and where Nafretiri was silent on a matter, Tiffany believed, at least in this case, that she had the right measure of things... It was curious to her that she had met so great a number, or knew of enough of the vampire population in Demaitre, and had had only minimal problems with them... She had met a younger-looking vampire named Mathius who had helped her deliver a flower arrangement to a wedding on time, then saved her from an unexpected, overt kidnapping attempt... That event had been quite odd, but she had enjoyed conversing with the vampire... She wondered where he had gotten off to, but that was a stray thought, and she reigned her mind in.

"Abu Simbel..." Tiffany smiled. The Taj Mahal, the Abu Simbel... lovely places for some of the loveliest figures in history, in her opinion... Quite different, but with quite the same intents... well... again, in her opinion. A romantic mind could construct many precious scenarios from such things. The cheerless note struck her, and she managed a small smile.

"I suppose to know where you began, and know where you are, it is enough to know that you managed to get to the present at all, yes?"

Tiffany's mind was calculating, through dynasties and kingdoms and eras, trying to map out a possible chart for the woman's life... She really was old... With a nod to herself, an impressed expression crept on to her face in spite of herself. It meant she was having a conversation with living history... (Run, Nafretiri, run! You have caught an inquisitive person's interest!)

The family life was not surprising. It was typical of the time period in which Nafretiri claimed to live, and 'incest' was not uncommon amon Mortals or Gods in that society... However, knowing this, Tiffany could have fabricated such a family history without too much trouble. It was just detailed enough to make it sound real, though, without being too suspiciously clear... Either Ms. Nafretiri was telling the truth, or she was a skilled deceiver...

Destroy the world... She could think of a few Mortals who could boast the same... The President for instance, or the Premier, Prime Minister of several countries possessed at least the ability to severely cripple the world, perhaps to the point of it's full demise. For one woman, however old, that was a bold claim, though not totally unbelievable. She highly doubted Nafretiri's deity, still, but it was not unthinkable that she was of some eminence. If she was as old as she claimed, then the knowledge of the times she possessed would be sufficient to make her a formidable opponent... Tiffany would not have liked to be against her. And if she was indeed a carrier for a plague such as she described, then she was a deadly opponent, as well... Eyes roaming back to the canopic jar still resting so innocently on the countertop, she was tempted to try a safe-room environment with critical levels of precaution to unseal it anyway... Her curiosity was a powerful drive... And as long as they were exceedingly careful... Perhaps... But she would consider it now and later, and wait before she made a final decision... And Nafretiri would not need to know until after the decision was made, whether she opened the jar or not...

Though the woman seemed wise, if she had forgotten much of her past from birth to present day, then that in and of itself might be an asset. Not that Tiffany had any intention of placing herself in opposition to Nafretiri, but she always looked for loopholes, was cautious in her dealings. She had lived in some rough cities, and her short residence in Demaitre had been pleasant and eventful... And she wished it to stay that way.

Tiffany sighed. The mystery of why was still gone, though the lead on those who might have imprisoned the mother and child excited her, and revived patience that had been rapidly becoming frustrated.

"Three thousand years your elder? That would make them... They would have lived... How... Ahem. Goodness."

Head bent a bit, she doodled on the edge of the pad on which she was taking notes, cartouches with hieroglyphics appearing as she played with the characters of the pictoral language. They were insanely old, to put it very mildly. These would be people who would remember the beginnings of life, or the first records of history, when word of mouth, storytelling, was the main mode of transmitting legend, knowledge... A slightly dreamy look entered her eyes. These, some of them, might still be walking about, even as Nafretiri was, if she was sincere... She bit her tongue, and knew the action was something that represented what was necessary. No matter how much she learned, how amazing the things she discovered, she would have to tread carefully, and separate her discoveries, sorting what she could say and what she could not, be very very discreet. And she had a feeling that the woman before her would be more than... willing, to help with that.

"Well..." She slipped from her stool and went to trace a nail along the etchings in the glazed earthen jar. "I think a more imminent question is what mysteries these jars keep. Burn until there was not ash.. The hearts removed, that part was done. WHy encase them in a plague? If it was to save people, why put a potential world-wide epidimic in a bottle for the populace to find? Or... You said it was not supposed to be found, but still I wonder why such a thing was sealed with the heart... And why did it not destroy the organs? As I said, they seem in perfect health, so it would seem, unless you have another explanation, better knowing of 'Sekhmet's Plague' than I, that they are resilient or immune to the disease?"

Turning around to watch Nafretiri's profile against the blue-white light of the viewscreen, she noted the set of shoulders and the line of her jaw, carefully looking for any sort of reaction. Those might be important in such a reserved person...

"And yet, Ms. Nafretiri, it would seem that you yourself are of considerable years, and have not taken such a stroll into the daylight... It is possible, even if not likely, that some of these people may yet live?"

It was not so much a question, because it would be impossible, she thought, for Nafretiri to universally deny such a thing. Nafretiri's existance was considered an impossibility by most, until recently including Dr. Cowper's own cynicism...

"What could a mother and child have done or possessed that would have threatened those who were at what some would consider the beginning of time... At least, the beginning of time as far as Man is concerned. The origins of life are in them in a very real way, if what you say is true... It is true that with time comes advancements, but some elder things can never be outdone or replicated, which would rather tend to balance than make it less... I don't know, perhaps even make it better. Man has learned a lot, but there are also some great things he has forgotten... Even some things now known are fading because now there is little attention on the past, and history is neglected because many of us cannot see the use in it."

There wasa grieved note in her voice. It was true, as more than one man had said, beginning, as far as she believed with Confucious...

"Those who ignore the past are doomed to repeat it..." Such a wise voices in the past. Why modern men refused to listen killed her... But, sighing, she knew that all she could do was keep up what she was doing, to ensure that at least one person was still listening to the voices of the past...

"At will... A carrier I can see, but to give the plague, or take it at will... no, I cannot imagine. The Black Plague, the Scarlet Plague... Ebola, too - there have been such things many times, the inability to perform burial rites breaking hearts and people as much as the many deaths themselves. Only a paler reflection of these things touch me, what I've studied and learned, the descriptions, but to face such horror... No, I cannot imagine."

She nodded slowly.

"To Rome, then. There is one other who has family lands there, and has offered me a place to stay. He may call at the villa, if you have no objection then, and perhaps I shall visit his home, for there are some things there that I believe would make interesting studies..."

Breathing out, her mind revamped to include travel plans, as well... It would be interesting... This was a lot to take in, but unlike Nafretiri and Mitchifer, this pace was what she intended to keep until she dropped dead. Because she had one life, and she was going to use it as long and hard as she could...

Her eyes were wide and the determination in them answered Nafretiri's aristocratic, determined pose. She phrased her next words carefully, trying to tactfully gain a little more insite into this woman.

"I will consider such protection a very valuable asset. I must ask, however, though you said that for three thousand years, this plague has lain dormant... Well, if it is as you say, then it would seem paramount that it does not overwhelm you. If indeed such people still existed, and through our searching one of those who ousted you from your lands appear... Would the businesswoman still control your actions, or the 'goddess'?"

Waiting, she twisted the pen cap and clicked it onto the pen, resting it neatly on the legal pad she had been jotting notes upon.