I Need You
By
Kamala
Chapter 8
Temple of Isis- Two Weeks Later
Two weeks had passed and Devi still felt the sharp pains of his death. There were no more dreams nor
would there be. In his time, he was dead and cursed by man and his gods.
‘The cycle moves on.’
All she had were her memories and a serious crisis in faith.
‘How could our gods cause them to meet in dreams, fall in love then deny them a happy ending. Our love
was strong but the time between us was… No sense dwelling on the what could have been.’
She had sequestered herself in her chambers in the Temple, refusing to speak to anyone. She knew her
parents had to be worrying about her. The Med-jai had questions. She did not want to speak to anyone.
Her feelings too raw to even think about what happened. She performed her duties as High Priestess with
a heavy heart and not with the absolute faith, she once had.
She had spent the last few days reading his scrolls and held what she found in them close to her heart at
night. He loved her but his loneliness drove him into Anck-su-namun’s arms hoping for solace.
She had the charm she always wore and the memories of the love they had shared.
‘Eternity will not make a difference. We can never be together. He is cursed to be one of the living dead,
while I am Immortal. So much for the promise of a good afterlife.’
Worse yet, should he rise again the curse would cause the cycle to begin anew. And she had her duty to
her people and to her world.
She sat on the balcony staring at the jungle that hid the Temple, and the Blue Nile moving silently through
it. Her mind wandering trying to think of anything but him.
The door to her chamber opened and Marga entered, “Sorry to bother you. High Priestess.”
“Yes?” Devi asked looking at her through the opening that separated the balcony from the room.
“Your family is here to see you,” Marga stated.
“How?”
“We were worried about you.”
Devi had no answer to that. “Show them in.”
Devi did not move to straighten her appearance. She was still dressed in her Temple robes for the
Celebration of Horus.
Her parents entered followed by her brothers and sisters and their spouses.
‘Wonderful.’
She looked at Marga, who just shrugged.
“Leave us,” Devi ordered, her voice that of High Priestess, as she rose from her chair. She was clad in a
long skirt of off white and a breastplate with the symbols of Horus on it, and a robe over it.
“Yes, High Priestess,” Marga said stressing her title and shut the door.
She looked at her family. “Mother, Father.”
She nodded to her brothers and sisters. She gestured for them to make themselves comfortable.
“We have been worried about you,” her mother said.
“I am fine, just needed some time alone.”
“Why did that woman call you High Priestess?” her second sister, Yasmin asked.
“That is what I am, High Priestess of the Temple of Isis.”
There was shock running through everyone but her father.
Her eldest brother, Omar spoke out in anger. “So, not only have you shamed us, in the eyes of the
others, you are also a heretic.”
“No, your God is not mine,” Devi stated, using what others called her Temple voice, “You chose a path
different than mine.”
“Your brother is right,” his wife, Shayla, said. “In the eyes of the others, we are an embarrassment. All
heard your statement of Beloved to that Creature.”
Devi held her thoughts to herself; there was nothing she could say to them that would change their mind
about Imhotep.
The others started to shout at her, about what she had done and how she should make up for her
transgressions.
“Quiet,” her father yelled over the others, “I want to speak to her alone. Everyone out.”
“You heard your father, all of you out,” her mother started.
“You too, Jasmine,” her father ordered.
“Ardeth.”
“Alone.”
The room cleared rather quickly, her father was a powerful man and his children learned to respect his
wishes no matter their age.
Devi got up and walked out onto the balcony her father following.
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