Shades of Panic

Abby Ebon

Disclaimer: I solemnly swear I do not own Harry Potter or The Mummy/The Mummy Returns rights and when I write, I "borrow" them for "good". Isn't it wonderful that words have so many meanings?

Note: I'm kind of afraid of what to say, or will be said – but this is it, the end.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Sacrifice of Mortal Nature

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Ardeth was dead, but Death walked now in the land of the mortal. Those starry black eyes looked into Mene and saw Harry – then a jackal laughed, and both swung to look at the jackal with deep abysses eyes.

Chaos, too, had reached into the living for a shape to define reality.

"Hello lover." Chaos greeted Death, with a smile that promised coming pain in the morning light.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Mene swung his head away from Death's face, his snort of breath blowing wisps of black hair. Where the black eyes of Death were the never ending starry night sky, Chaos had obsidian black, the sort that led from tunnels into a edge of darkness with no sure end at the drop and no way back – a trap.

"How are you here?" Death demands with a hiss, already crouched in the sand ready to leap up at any unexpected movement.

"Between is lost in everywhere, and the Crossroads touch everywhere. I followed Death to find you, are you not pleased?" The jackal body Chaos wears like a meat suit, gaps open its jaw in a smile, tongue lulling out between wicked teeth.

"No." Death does not look to Mene, the white winged horse which puts itself between two Immortals so fearlessly, what has it to fear? It is Immortal itself – but Harry is not Immortal, and Chaos uses a jackals nose to inhale, sharp and primal – as if in that sniff it knows Harry is near.

"A Keeper, here?" Chaos' eyes rove over the field of blood, from immortal to mortal alike.

"Very near." Death says, mockingly.

Harry within Mene stirs restlessly, knowing he can not stay – and tearing his heart in two to not do so. He must not breach the Gate, Harry tells Mene and the white horse bucks suddenly, forelegs lashing out at the jackal – knocking Chaos out of its chosen body. The jackal falls and dies, as a puppet with its strings cut must.

Wings flared and silver hooves raining down on the sand – where Chaos lay dazed though Mene's eyes – it's a magnificent sight as Chaos flees into Between.

For a moment Mene hesitates.

In that moment Harry turns his attention to Death, with regret – and Death, recognizing Harry within the white Immortal horse – reaches out, fingers beckoning.

Go. Harry tells Mene, feeling as if his heart is being torn in two with duty and regret.

Mene follows Chaos into the Between, silver hooves flashing like lightning, wings like cracking thunder. The oncoming storm.

Where Mene now goes – Harry can not follow in any other body but his own.

Harry finds himself jerked back into his own right body; Anceps curled about his neck and shoulders. He just breaths for a moment, eyes closed: the scent of the jungle is musty heat and moisture and growing things. The scent of sand, burning earth, is like a faint spice.

Harry, the mental voice of Anceps tugs at him gently, what happened? A flick of forked tongue flicks his ear for attention, and Harry gives it, opening his eyes.

Oh. Anceps says, whispers soft. Harry's eyes are filled with green flame. He reaches out his hand and twists shadow into his command, place and time are swayed – displaced, and when Harry lets go, he sits at the feet of Discord and Justice.

Harry sways, but stands – even if it isn't easy.

"Chaos will break past the Crossroads if we do not end this." Harry tells them, and Discord tucks her arm under his elbow – and Justice at his other side mirrors her sister.

"You are Burning – you can not Burn here, you will die." Justice tells him sternly, in a tone that can be called chastising. Discord rolls her eyes skyward, as if Justice should not bother – or should know better.

"Then help me." Harry demands, his frowning lips pulled into a snarl of rage.

"As it pleases you." Discord takes a step forward, and Harry leans on her to follow, their steps look slow and steady but rooms and halls blur past as they walk three steps and the three of them are where Justice left Imhotep, he spins to see who has dared enter here – and Harry must take one more step forward, alone.

Rick looks up from where he was tossed back by Imhotep.

"Harry? I have to say, you're timing isn't bad." Then he catches sight of the two figures standing at the door, one the lover of Imhotep – Justice within her Chosen, and the other – his mouth drops open, eyes wide in disbelief – the figure of his wife is blurred and changed by Discord, but unmistakably her.

"Evelyn?" Rick's voice is shaky and unsure, but she catches his eyes with hers and smiles with a nod. When Rick looks to Harry, to be sure, Harry nods once before Rick heads toward her at a run.

Harry is glad they will live to have a happy ever after.

Imhotep and Harry stand face to face; Imhotep's eyes are wide as they take in his ages-long warden, with a green fire for eyes. They flicker and spark, seeming never ending – but there is an end, for Harry is mortal still though he takes Immortal duty.

"Are you a God?" Imhotep asks, though he does not take a step back and holds his ground boldly before one he perceives to be greater then he is.

"No, I am not – and you will not be, either – if you are found worthy by this." Harry answers, softly – his eyes searching the darkness beyond them for something that the shadows hide. His hand gestures to the room at large, but Imhotep knows the power he means – the power that took from him.

"I do not believe you." Imhotep hisses, fist clenching – though what he does not believe, that his God in the disguise of Chaos would lie and betray him, or that Harry is not a God –Harry does not ask. Instead he says something unexpected; his eyes fixed on what not even shadows can hide.

"Ask him." The shadows give way to a giant, the only human half of him is his face and torso, the rest resembles a scorpion – which sealed a deal millennia old now.

"Scorpion." Imhotep says in awe – the first of Pharaohs, the first son of an Immortal. Imhotep knows his limits with no power of his own, and drops to his knees, his head bowed. Harry does nothing but stand with burning eyes, and Scorpion seems to expect no less or more notice from him then that.

"I am he." Scorpion agrees his words like breaking waves; he nods to Harry – in that gesture is nobility that physical appearance can not sway.

"I serve you." Imhotep vows, eyes not daring to rise above the ground.

"We shall see." Scorpion muses, his taller height giving him an advantage in sight over them all. Harry turns his head too, wondering what has caught his attention – Alex and Jonathon have stridden into the chamber and then falter at the sight of them. It is not they that the Scorpion sees, but the Spear of Osiris.

Harry does not hear what he says or does not say – his horrified attention is drawn to what Imhotep says instead.

"He is your enemy!" Imhotep's pointing finger to Rick damns them one and all.

Harry tries to speak, but finds his mouth and tongue caught and tangled with Imhotep's – the Scorpion's eyes are wide and amused by what Imhotep dares – but it puts Scorpion at ease, that Imhotep is his ally as much as Harry is.

Then the warrior that forged a nation that lasted a million years heads toward Rick O'Connell. That he is a warlord damned by a curse with Chaos is obvious; that he means them harm can not be denied.

"Do you know what you have done?" Harry demands of Imhotep, when he is freed from that forced kiss. There is triumph in Imhotep's deep brown eyes, but no hint to why Harry asks him a question that seems to have an obvious answer.

"I will strike when he is weak. I will rule what is mine by right of Hom-Dai. That I will do it – a High Priest of Osiris with the Spear of Osiris is a proof of my right to rule." Imhotep smiles as he said it, but Harry shakes his head.

"You have no right to the world of the living." Harry states softly, aware that he is giving Rick time to find out the secret of the Spear, for Harry dare not touch it – he does not know what he would do to the world after putting aside the Scorpion King. Would he rule it? Or would he ruin it? Harry can not say, not with his eyes burning green like flame and his thrumming blood feeling powerful and alive while boiling him to death from inside out.

"Death is only the beginning for one who can enter the world of the dead." Imhotep utters, and there is longing in his tone, what he would deny otherwise to those who did not hear it – but Harry does.

"There are other worlds." Harry's lips quirk in amusement at the thought that Imhotep would believe in only two.

"Show me." Imhotep demands, eyes flicking to where Rick – the Spear of Osiris in hand – is prodding the Scorpion King back and away from his child and wife and brother by law and Imhotep's own lover.

"You will see them without me, that is what you have done with your kiss. You will be their Keeper after me." The words from Harry's lips are blessing and curse both, and Imhotep wide eyed shakes his head in denial. His fingers touch his still tingling lips. Harry for his part is content – he knows that Imhotep will find his place among Immortals – and perhaps peace: power is what drove Imhotep, and now he will have it – and have to protect with it. For what is protection but another from of power and rule? More beneficial then what Imhotep is used to, oh yes – but a power he will not abuse – for there are the Gate-Keepers.

Harry puts his hand to where Anceps rests, silent and still – perhaps grudging a new Keeper, or judging. Anceps slithers onto his hand curling lightly about his wrist and arm; like an offering, Harry stretches out his hand with Anceps upon it to Imhotep. Awed, Imhotep allows the transfer of Anceps from Harry to his own person, Anceps looks back to Harry, flicking his forked tongue and his eyes glistening black as if tears would fall if possible.

"You will die." Anceps says to Harry, not haltingly but full of sorrow. Harry nods acknowledgement, a fact he can't deny while feeling his own Immortal powers burning within his heart.

"No – I will put a stop this. I swear." Imhotep knows what it means to kill, and to die – but to live? Imhotep has only had one life to live, and tried many times to save the life of his beloved, and Harry thinks perhaps the duties of a Keeper –made Immortal by Imhotep's own curse of Hom-Da, will suit the once High Priest better then they had Harry.

Harry watches and burns as he weaves a spell to keep his word – this place is tied to Chaos – and the mummified Pygmy had asked him to save it, their home. Harry would keep his word but such a place as this could not stay within the Mortal Realm, or else Chaos would find again a hold here and now – so Harry would see that it was sent into the Between with the end of the Scorpion King's curse: a curse that would end with the Spear of Osiris.

"Harry!" Rick yells the warning that Harry doesn't see coming.

So occupied with his magic and spells, Harry doesn't pay mind to Rick – who hurls the Spear of Osiris toward the Scorpion King who hovers near Harry. To Rick it must look as if Scorpion means him harm – but the opposite, Harry feels later – is truer.

Scorpion snatches Harry up carefully up in his pincher claws, turning so his armored back will defect the Spear of Osiris.

Harry doesn't see Imhotep snatch the spear from the air, and the grin of triumph he gives Rick – doesn't see Rick scream out a curse that Imhotep doesn't have to understand the language of to know the meaning - and his grin is smug and sure.

Imhotep turns back to where he left Harry standing behind him – sure that Harry will be there – but he is not. Scorpion King turns his head over his shoulder and sneers to see the weapon he is vulnerable to in "allies" hands.

"You have betrayed me?" Scorpion asks his grip about Harry steady and protective. He brings Harry to see what he does, and Imhotep's skin is pale with worry.

"You will let him go – give him to me!" Imhotep demands, and Scorpion lifts Harry onto his shoulders and Harry must either hold on or fall – and the Scorpion King is sitting on the roof above an abyss that opened up in the stone below. Harry would rather not test his life or death in a fall, so he holds on tightly.

Scorpion's answer, when it comes, is simple.

"No." Menacing claws clench and click together like swords, the fury of the Scorpion King overcoming his fear of his own curse coming to an end.

Imhotep throws the Spear of Osiris, sure and true – he trusts Harry to take care of himself.

No one, Harry notes with amusement, was paying attention to who they should have been. Rick leaps with the Spear of Osiris: his grip around it tight, it plows into Scorpion's chest, and dark startled eyes meet Rick's – Rick will fall with the Scorpion King – and Harry.

"Go to Hell and take your Army with you!" Rick declares before it can be asked of him - questioned, and Scorpion nods nobly.

It is then that Rick takes notice of Harry on Scorpion's back – and bellows out a command unthinkingly.

"No! Harry – get off – now!" Harry can't though, and uses his magic one last time – sand is all round them, and sand is what he thinks of as the curse comes to an end: as Harry's own spell takes hold and the Oasis of Ahm Shere is sent Beyond, where Chaos lies.

"Death is not the end." Is what he tells Rick with a smile, which Rick can not return past a horrified awareness of what has happened – what Harry has caused to happen.

Harry knows nothing more of events as they unfold for Rick O'Connell's family, his mortal life burned out.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Death shivers as sand takes the Army of Chaos, and he sees where this sand is going – the golden pyramid of the Scorpion King's dreams is swallowing all that links Chaos here.

There is only one thing that can do this, here, is the death of an Immortal – and only one Immortal can die. Death shivers under a hot sun standing on backing earth that has become sand over ages of time.

Death goes –fleas - as his people, the Ma-jei cry out a cheer he never hears.

Death goes – and follows.

Death always has found what he follows, and what he finds is mortal and frail and small and burnt out of power.

"What now?" Harry asks - a ghost of himself, in the arms of Death, where he belongs. Death breathes in and smells nothing, but does not know he weeps until Harry kisses his tears away, a tingle of sensation, that bare bush of lips.

"Justice comes, and…and the Immortal Keeper…" Death presses his kisses upon a ghost of his lover. He is cold and the only thing giving him form is Death himself, but Death does not care.

To see the bodies of Meela and Imhotep here stirs Harry to look up, Death only cares that Harry still has the will to do something – even if it is to look upon those who were once his tormenters.

"What can be done?" Imhotep demands of the two Immortals, Immortal himself now he kneels beside Harry –reaching out to touch, but dares not when Death sends him a look of loathing that stills his hand as if there is still bone beneath.

"What now?" Harry echoes, the only words he can say – a shadow, a ghost - a mockery and mimic of life.

"They are safe Harry, I saw that Discord left the Mortal Realm – Evelyn has her Rick and Alex and Jonathon. They survived, and we played the parts of a final death. They are safe, I swear." Justice murmurs and Death allows only his sister to touch Harry's cheek and hair: a reassuring gesture lost on this echo of life.

"He will soon be lost." Anceps whispers, Death knows that Harry's final spell tied him to the Beyond, as surely as it tied Ahm Shere.

"Leaving me alone to take his place among you?" Imhotep asks of them, disbelieving that they would allow it.

"As was done before him, and will never be done for you." Justice says with little sympathy, this is an Immortal she loves – and she will never know what it is to hold her dying lover's ghost.

"I will Fade with him." Death murmurs softly into Harry's ear, a promise not to leave him.

Golden fog and silver clouds come from the Crossroads; and two healed gold hounds and two silver winged horses surround them – no, surround Harry, with Anceps and the Keeper Immortal at the middle, eye to eye with Harry's echoing presence.

"That will not be allowed, Death. Harry is to be a Keeper – a Gate-Keeper." Anceps raises his two heads, and one head fights the other until the other head dies; fades until black scaled Anceps is with only one head.

At first this desperate act seems to garner no response.

"What now?" Harry sighs though he does not breathe. Death is still wrapped around him, and feels the warmth spreading though the tingle of sensation at keeping the echo in his arms. Harry blinks and there is green fire flickering to life in his eyes.

"No – no, he's Burning still!" Death kisses still lips, numb but warm now, trying in van to quench the flames of Immortality that will Burn away the frail echo in his arms. The heat is within Harry, so to Death it is only the warmth of a distant fireside, still Death could not save the echo of Harry from this.

The others do not try; they look silently to Anceps, who seems to expect nothing less.

"Let him Burn." Anceps says, and it is cruel to say so– Death thinks, "he must Burn to be Born." Anceps says nothing else to explain, but Death ceases his attempts, knowing them to be useless. Yet Death con not help it, he still does not let Harry go when the green fire from within becomes the fire on his skin.

"No!" Imhotep protests, but Anceps tightens about the wrist he would reach out with to touch Harry – who is quietly consumed by green fire, Death has no tears for the heat of the blaze: and all that was of Harry is ashes like gold.

Death watches it with rapt attention, like a bird of prey awaiting some sign.

From the gold peeks red feathers, and hatched from the ashes of gold is a little phoenix, the youngest and last of the Immortal Gate-Keepers.

"Welcome." Anceps sings out with Mene and Elektor and Auos and Tito. Gem bright green eyes regard them all with solemn serenity. Death reaches out a hand for the little phoenix to touch, and with naked wing, he does so.

The phoenix chick sneezes off gold ash, and Harry leans his body against Death – for a phoenix knows that in death is life.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

The End