The Valley of Death's Shadows
QUAINT FOLLOWED ALEXANDRIA to the cliff edge, peering cautiously over the side. The desert wasteland stretched as far as the eye could see. A barren, grey-brown wilderness populated by nothing except hills, rocks, dust and sand.
'Down there?' he asked.
Alexandria nodded. 'If you wish to get answers about this plot of yours, yes,' she said, pointing to the inhospitable landscape below. 'Down into the valley of death's shadows, to the place where the souls of the dead roam, and their ghosts walk freely in daylight.'
'Ghosts?' laughed Quaint. 'Don't tell me you think this place is haunted!'
'Pay heed, Cornelius, for as you will soon discover, evil has made its home here. The valley is haunted by something far, far worse than the ghosts of the dead,' said Alexandria.
Unconvinced, Quaint scanned the valley in closer detail, when he noticed something almost shrouded from view. Nestled in between two gigantic, red mountains was an encampment. It was shadowed in a dark swathe of night, despite it being just past two o'clock in the afternoon. Not one ray from the sun penetrated the valley, as if the encampment did not merit its light.
'Where is this place?' Quaint asked. 'It's not on any maps I've seen.'
'It is a settlement from the old days named Bara Mephista,' replied Alexandria, as she watched the flicker of interest in Quaint's dark eyes. 'It was once home to a group of Nubian settlers who called themselves "The Fleeing Free".'
Quaint rubbed his jaw. 'A literal moniker, I take it?'
Alexandria nodded. 'They were a tribe of nomads that originally fled here from the city of Khartoum…and they are a legacy from my country's past that we do not celebrate. The Fleeing Free worshipped gods of death, and practised their dark rituals right there in the place you see before you. To look across these plains now, save for the remains of their old settlement, you would never know they even existed. They were purged by the pharaoh of that time, their name was struck from all historical records, wiping them from the face of Egypt. That is why you will not find this settlement on any map.'
'When your lot hold a grudge, you don't muck about, do you? I don't suppose one of your ancestors was in charge back then?' joked Quaint.
'Bara Mephista has been tainted by that dark reputation ever since,' Alexandria continued, unperturbed by the conjuror's sarcasm. 'Nubian history was my father's life, and he surely taught you that the ancient Egyptians worshipped Amun-Ra, the Sun God. As the sun was born each day, the eastern sky signified the birth of life, yes? Similarly, as the sun set in the west at the end of each day, it became synonymous with death.' She caught Quaint's sceptical eyes. 'The Fleeing Free built their temple facing west in veneration to the underworld…in service to death itself, hence the superstitions.'
Quaint looked down at the settlement dubiously. For all the beliefs he held, the supernatural was not one of them. 'But how can a long extinct bunch of nomads possibly help me?' he asked.
'They cannot,' replied Alexandria. 'But those who now reside here might.'
Something made Quaint shiver, and he turned around to Alexandria.
'Did you say this place is called "Bara Mephista"?' he asked.
Alexandria smiled. 'It took you long enough to work it out.'
'But, Alex…Bara Mephista is old Nubian for-'
'Land of the Devil, yes. And it is very aptly named,' said Alexandria. 'Bara Mephista is home to the largest criminal infection that Egypt has ever witnessed…a disease that has spread throughout this country for decades, polluting anything and everything in its path. Like packs of wild dogs they roam, foraging and scavenging the land.'
'They?' asked Quaint.
'The Clan Scarabs. Murderers and thieves, every one of them. Ruthless and cunning, they would slit your throat without giving it a second thought.'
'Unreceptive to visitors, I should imagine,' gulped Quaint.
'You will soon find out,' said Alexandria. 'If anyone knows anything about this plot of yours – it is the Scarabs. If you are not to be swayed, then down you must go, willingly into their nest. But if you take but one wrong step in that place, it may well turn out to be your last. You must be cautious.'
'My dear, I'm the living embodiment of cautious,' replied Quaint.
'Cornelius, have you heard nothing of what I just said?' Alexandria snapped. 'These men are murderers! You will be lucky if you live long enough to introduce yourself, let alone ask them any questions!' She turned from the cliff's edge and began gathering up their things, stowing them into the pack on her saddle. 'If you really are going down there then you will not find me by your side.'
'Where are you going?' asked Quaint.
'Where do you think? I am going back home. Back to Hosni,' replied Alexandria. 'I have done my part and led you here. How you decide to kill yourself is your business.'
'Just like that? Alex, you can't just leave!'
'On the contrary, Cornelius…I can.' Alexandria grabbed hold of her saddle and hoisted herself upon the horse's back.
'I'm miles away from anywhere! What if they refuse to help?' asked Quaint.
'Then a long walk back to your ship will be the least of your troubles,' Alexandria said. 'Unlike you, I have much to lose. I must do what you should have done from the start…I will leave the heroics to someone else.' With that, she steered her horse towards the track. 'If you somehow end up walking out of this valley alive, Cornelius – make sure you say goodbye this time.'
Quaint tried his best to smile, and just about managed to, but it was a fleeting one. 'Alex, wait! Before you go…take a look in your pocket.'
Alexandria halted her horse with a gentle tug on the reins. She reached into her waistcoat, and her expression flitted between aggravation, surprise and then utter confusion.
It was the seven of diamonds.
Quaint grinned up at her. 'Your card I believe?'
Alexandria chewed at the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling. She cast the playing card into the dust. 'I take it all back…you are a good magician, Cornelius. But know this: if you wish to walk back out of this place with your life, you will need to be better than just good… you will need to be absolutely spectacular!'
Quaint watched her fade into the distance, claimed by a cloud of dust. He slowly walked towards the card, picked it up, and slipped it into his trouser pocket. Glancing into the valley to his destination, he smiled at Alexandria's words.
Thankfully, being absolutely spectacular was well within his means…