The Passion of Cleopatra (Ramses the Damned 2)

Enamon was keeping notes of the location of each plant, even though they would all be able to recognize them once they blossomed.

And they would blossom in only a few moments' time.

In the crook of Bektaten's arm, Bastet purred. Ah, such sublime contentment.

Once they were finished planting, both men turned and looked up to the window.

With a nod, she gave them permission to continue. Aktamu picked up the cup of elixir she had blended for them, tipped it ever so slightly, and walked down the center of the soil patch, raining drops to his left as he went. Then he made a return trip, and did the same to his left again.

She had taught them long ago that they must never speed through this process. They must never let the ceaseless march of their lives numb their sense of the elixir's magic. And so, as if on cue, the two men stood to the side and watched quietly as the first green shoots emerged from the previously barren dirt. They held their ground as the first leaves unfurled, the first blossoms taking shape amidst these rustling beds of green.

Life, she thought. Within this elixir, life itself. It does not kill us and make us anew. It unleashes us. It makes life itself limitless and unrepentant.

A few minutes later, the men came to her quarters. In one hand, Aktamu held a single flower: five thick orange petals, the ends curling in on themselves, a tangle of yellow stamens. Bektaten settled into the nearest chair, her cat on her lap, as she accepted this gift. She pinched off the end of the stamens and ground them into a fine paste on her fingers.

For this test, she needed only a tiny amount.

At the scent that emerged from the flower, Bastet sat up suddenly, eyes alight, as riveted as she would have been by a freshly caught fish. What did the cat truly feel? Bektaten wished she could know.

Bektaten lifted two pollen-smeared fingers to her face, drew a quick line across her lips and down her chin.

The cat went to work immediately, licking the pollen away from Bektaten's chin and lips as Bektaten smoothed more along its coat.

After several seconds of this ritual, after the pollen had been absorbed by both of their skins, Bektaten was staring at herself through the cat's eyes. This never failed to humble her, and overawe her. The two of them had made this connection many times before, and each time, the purring creature came away more docile and attentive to humans; more bonded with Bektaten's every mood and need. Something close to a loving familiar of pure heart. Indeed, through the miracle of the angel blossom, she had made many fearsome creatures her loving and attentive companions.

Bektaten ordered the cat off her lap with a silent, mental command. It obeyed and she found herself gazing at her feet, Enamon's feet, then Aktamu's feet as he backed slowly out of the dear creature's path. To the window she sent the cat, and up onto the ledge so she might have a view of the fully grown garden below.

What a sight the newly born plants made, even by way of the cat's vision--great stalks and blossoms rustling in the ocean breeze.

Silently, she commanded the cat back to her lap.

Once it returned, once she found herself gazing up at her own ageless face, she reached up and smoothed the pollen from her own lips and cheeks. Odd, a little dizzying, watching herself perform this task. And it would take a bit of time for her system to absorb the blossom's pollen entirely, at which point the connection between her and Bastet would be broken.

For now, she sat cradling the cat on her lap, waiting for the miracle to fade. She told the cat to reposition itself, so Bektaten would not be forced to stare at herself as if through a mirror. The cat obeyed.

"Is she still a clever creature?" Enamon finally asked.

"Yes, Enamon. Very much so. She will have much to tell us in time."

And who knew how much more Bastet could do in time? Who knew what great discoveries awaited Bektaten and Bastet in the future?

*

When they came to her, she had just finished reading her journals from the time when Ramses II ruled Egypt.

It had reawakened her vast store of memories from that period. Her search for Saqnos had taken her far and wide during that time, but rarely into Egypt, for she had heard nothing from Egypt to indicate Saqnos was there. Were there signs she had missed even as she recorded them? Ah, so much to ponder. But not now. Now was the time for the conjugal blessing of this new abode.

When her men appeared, silently, determinedly, she was ready for them.

Hungry for them.

She led them into her bedchamber, where there could be no doubt of her intentions, as her bed had been strewn with flower petals, and incense burned to perfume the air.

Years had passed since the three of them had last lain together, and it seemed a miraculous thing, how effortlessly they came together now.

She allowed them to remove her turban and smooth her dark hair. She allowed them to strip away her robes, and then to remove their own.

Three splendid immortal bodies, embracing one another in the shadowy candlelight, ready to sink down into the bower of flower petals and pillows.