(This solo takes place after We Want You where Sara receives the commission from Slate.)

Historians are baffles, and so is this bug eyes writer. Ladies and gentleman of the literary public I kid you not when I tell you this. The ancient Egyptians may have been the first people ever to invent the tank top and pants. (See hieroglyphs on page 12.)

My sources, in Egypt, inform me that, Obadiah Eddy, head of archeological nerds digging in the pyramids, has discovered a hidden room with a whole new story of Egyptian history on the walls. Including, but not limited to an image of, what Obadiah Eddy believes, is an image of Bast, Egyptian Cat goddess of protection for lower Egypt, fertility, light and cats, wearing nothing other than, that’s right folks. A tank top and a pair of pants.

It is unknown as to why the tank top and pants combination never really stuck in Egyptian fashions. Scientists have their theories. One being that this image of Bast, displays her shutting herself off by covering those areas that are related to reproduction. Therefore not allowing the pharaoh of that day to have a son. Another theory states that this was a sort of armor. Obadiah continues to make observation about this hieroglyph, of Bast, that makes her different from all other images of gods, in this temple. For instance she has a ---

Sara suddenly dropped the tabloid she’d been reading and made her hand darted to her right, grabbing a hold of the little air sick baggy and pulling it to her face. Her entire body shuttered and lurched and well… you get the rest of the picture. Just when Sara thought it was safe to let her guard down, her stomach discovered more bile to flush out of her body. Her lunch, breakfast, and dinner from the night before had been released hours ago.

The flight attendant was at Sara’s elbow before she finished, with four fingered hand ready to take the air sick bag the moment Sara was finished, and a five fingered hand ready to give Sara a fresh one for the next time her air sickness got the better of her. Sara thought riding in a private plane was supposed to be easier than riding in a commercial air line. Unfortunately, even with the comforts Slate had provided her with, her experience was much the same. When she wasn’t gripping the seat so tight her claws were stabbing it’s upholstery, damage she hoped Slate was not going to take out of her final bill, She was barfing.

Sara officially hated flying.

She swished some water around her mouth, then spat the disgusting taste away before relinquishing her baggy and, grudgingly, accepting the new one. The tabloid was picked back up, and Sara opened it to the page that she had been on before, but she’d given up on trying to read anything else. She only opened it to try to look busy. So that she didn’t have to look the nine fingered flight attendant in the eye, because Sara’s problem with flight was so embarrassing. Hopefully the flights would be the worst part of this mission.

Slate had held his word. As Sara and he had agreed, 5,000 Dollars had been delivered to the Dragon Inn Restaurant the day before, in a non-discrete manila envelope. The cash had been handed off to Sara’s personal go to boy, who worked there, Johnny. He had made a big show of hiding the envelope in with the bill for Sara’s meal, when he handed it off to Sara. The motion had caused Sara to laugh because they were the only two people in the back, but being involved in this secret mission excited Johnny. Sara gave Johnny five twenties for being her go to boy, and Johnny gave her the tabloid, telling her that there was an article she would find interesting. Sara had honestly tried to read it, but the idea of pants being invented by Egyptians did nothing to take her mind off of a sour stomach. She’d just have to read it later.

Slate hired Sara to deliver un-cut Gems to a trader in Egypt, for the trader to inspect, personally. Sara understood that the gems were mutant made and when you ate them, they allowed you to speak and understand any language. Slate used his company to keep the mutant gold mine safe, and Sara did the commissioned mission foot work. She liked that the idea behind Slate’s plan and the intentions that Slate had told her, but things sounded too good to be true. Sara had yet to see what Slate fully had in his hands. Johnny had some of his own ideas and Sara… hold that thought…

With out warning, Sara’s right hand shot to the right arm rest where her claws sunk in the fake leather. The tabloid was dropped on the seat next to her and she snatched for the fresh little airline baggy.

Egypt became a relief. It meant land.

Sara was all too happy to get off of the plane. Slate had arranged for Sara to stay at a hotel room for the two nights. By the hour that she’d landed, it was already 3 hours into the next morning, in Egypt. Sara’s stomach wasn’t ready for solid food, so dinner was the last subject Sara would to take care of before settling in.

The nine fingered flight attendant helped Sara gather her things and ushered her off of the plane. A cab waited for her on the air strip. Sara dropped her single backpack on the seat and the driver asked her a question and it sounded like his words ran together. Sara figured she was more tired than she thought, because she looked back up at the driver, staring at his eyes in his rear view mirror. The man had olive colored skin. Sara believed he’d been told about Sara’s looks because he wasn’t just freaking out, but all that was coming out of his mouth was gibberish.

Sara gave herself a mental head slap as she remembered she hadn’t started using one of the Gem stones yet. She immediately faked a cough. Making like she needed a cough drop before waving her hand, and digging through her backpack till she found the pouch containing the un-cut gems. She dry gultched one just as her driver was repeating his question.

“Where to?”

Wow. The sensation of instantly knowing the language was an odd one. It was as if she was about to talk English, but she was aware of the differences in the dialect the driver spoke. Slate’s paper work, that Sara had memorized, was instantly translated in her head, and she gave the name of the hotel.

The man nodded, staring at her in the rearview mirror. Sara heard the car turn over and they started moving off into the night, away from the plane, away from the little baggies Sara had spent the plane ride, filling, and away from the connections to Slate’s company. Sara was officially on her own, on an adventure that was proving to be boring.

The driver didn’t start a conversation with Sara and Sara welcomed the silence. Most of the time his eyes were on the road, but he repeatedly checked his rearview mirror as if Sara was about to turn purple. The world outside the car turned from the flat landing strip to beaten roads surrounded by sand, and sparse patches of dried grass. Then as if summoned out of no where, there were buildings and tents. Blocking Sara’s line of sight.

When the cab shuttered to a stop, they were in front of Sara’s hotel. Sara took her bag, paid the driver, and ducked inside the hotel where she rummaged through her pockets for the key, as she made her way to her room.

The room was small. The bare essentials. A bed, a night stand, with an English bible showing exactly how Americanized the hotel had become, and a window. The view was decent. At her elevated room, she could make out the buildings that made mazes out of the streets. The structures were an odd mix of ancient looking dwellings, and new-ish buildings with light trim against dark backgrounds. They were clustered together as if the builders had spared no space. Then when you thought the buildings would keep going, they ended, and there was an ocean of sand that glistened like water, in the light of the moon. Sara could just make out the point of a Pyramid, like an island.

It was a pity Sara’s mission wasn’t going to take her there. Actually the mission wasn’t going to allow her to do any sight seeing. She was going to have enough time to rest, do her job, eat, and get back on the plane where she would most likely loose what she’d eaten again. At the age of 24 this was the first time, to Sara’s knowledge that she had been out side of the USA. The fact that this time, resting in the hotel room, was the time she will of spent here, Sara found daunting. Not because she feared the plane ride back that would happen in less than two days, but because she felt like she would be missing something.

Part of her wished she asked Slate for just one more day. Even though she knew as a commissioned employee, it wasn’t her right to ask, and based on Slate’s circumstances he would have most likely said no. Because the plans for this mission were for business and protection. Not so a cat can go see a new world.

She fell asleep leaning against the window sill.

The sun was bright, when it filtered in through the glass of the hotel window. It hit Sara’s fur, and heated her, till her muscles relaxed. Feeling like someone had rubbed a warm towel across her arms, face, shoulders, and back. It was soothing, right up until it got too hot. Sara woke up, and pulled away from the window, rubbing her right shoulder where a patch of fur was missing, and consequently got the most of the heat from the sun.

Sara mentally cursed herself for the place she’d chosen to sleep, but in essence, she also understood why. The bed had no view, the window did. This window was her sight seeing. She might as well take advantage of what she had.

The biggest difference in the city, from what she had seen last night, was the colors. Where, in the night before, the moon cast a silver sort of glow on the roof tops, and a blue shadow on the walls, the sun made every things seem golden. As Golden as Sara’s own amber eyes, with shadows climbing down the buildings in royal purple, red or maroon. Sun blinds and tents had been set up along the sides of the narrow streets by sellers, of what ever, to get buyers to spend that much longer at their booths and their colors reminded Sara of the images she’d seen of circus tents.

Sara stood back, to stretch her back and pop her shoulders, with her arms reaching straight up towards the ceiling. Sara rolled her head around from her right shoulder to the left, then tilted her head enough so she could see the clock at the corner of the room. Next to the head of the bed where Sara had been expected to sleep.

8:46 AM. Sara’s meeting was in the after noon. She’d have enough time to track down the jeweler’s shop, before she was too meet with him.

Sara did not have enough time to track down the jewelers shop. The more Sara looked at her watch, and the more she retraced her steps down the same blocks, the more she understood that she was about to be late. Then about to be late, turned into Fashionably late, and fashionably late turned into just plane late.

Sara thought she had things planned. She thought she knew where everything was, but when she left the hotel room that morning, and started following the directions that she had been given, they didn’t lead Sara to a jewelers shop. They got her lost, and her search for the shop, lead her on a be careful what you wish for trip, through the town, from Hell.

To start with, Sara had to keep herself hidden. This meant she traveled mostly by the roof tops, witch you would think, it would make things easier when she remembered the map Slate had given her. The problem was her positioning on the roofs made it harder for her to read streets. In fact most of the streets weren’t even marked if they had names.

Sara was dressed for the heat. Her tank top was a light orange that matched her fur, with black trim around the neck. The color was close to the color of the buildings she was traveling on, and it reflected the heat from the sun, rather than soaking it in. However, this still left Sara exposed to the heat of the sun, on top of the building. Where there were no shade or corners to hide and Sara had been baking for the better part of the day. If it wasn’t for her healing factor, feeding her excess energy, she would have probably dropped of heat exhaustion.

It was 6 before Sara climbed down from the building top, to rest in one of the rare narrow spaces between the buildings. Slate’s plane had been due to take off an hour ago. Sara was their single passenger, so it wasn’t like they would take off with out her. Being that their mission was delivering her to her mission. To return empty handed would make her look like an idiot, and it would be a waist of Slate’s resources. Sara would have to keep looking.

Sara dropped her bag, off of her shoulder, onto the ground. She was about to plop herself down next to it, when she saw something very strange around the edge of the building. It was long and flicked like the end of a snake’s tail, only it was covered in long blond fur. It was a tail! Someone else here had a tail, and they were walking away!

Sara’s own tail whipped back and forth as she got back up to her feet, and ran down the alley way, after this other mutant. She wasn’t normally a social creature, but this was important. Slate said the Jeweler shop owner had a daughter with a mutation. Maybe this tailed person knew them. Maybe this was the jeweler’s daughter. Slate hadn’t mentioned what her mutation was. “Hey! Wait up.” Sara yelled in English. Then repeated the equivalent of the fraise in the three different languages she’d heard while up above, on the roofs.

Sara skidded around the corner of the building, to find a dead end and no one standing there. She cursed to herself in Swahili, mumbling something about a crocodile’s hemorrhoids. So maybe this mutant went up. Sara sniffed at the air. Trying to pick up a sent but the only one she picked up smelled human. Not like it had fur. No scents lead up the sides of the buildings, and that left Sara by her self. Still lost, and still needing to make a delivery.

Speaking of deliveries, Sara mentally kicked herself for leaving her bag in the narrow space between the buildings around the corner. When she jogged back, she discovered a young boy bent over her open sack, rummaging threw the supplies between the tabloid, Johnny had given her, and the extra underwear, Sara had packed. He was just pulling out an extra set of throwing knifes, when Sara put her hands on her hips standing right behind him. “Finding anything interesting?”

The boy froze and looked over his shoulder, first at Sara’s feet, then slowly up. He couldn’t be older than 12. His skin was dark almond, his hair looked like someone used a bowl to cut it’s length. And his wide eyes were brown. His shirt was big enough that another one of himself could fit in it, and his shorts came down past knobby knees. Flip flop sandals looked like they did more flipping and flopping than protecting his feet from the sand. There was a white, stained candle stick to his right. “Bast!” The boy squeaked as his face turned as white as his candle, and the smudges of dirt became even more apparent.

Sara sighed. “No. Not Bast.” She said with a shake of her head. This made the boy’s body shake even more.

“Sakmet?”

Sara shook her head again. “Not Sakmet either.” She pointed her thumb at her chest. “Were.” She dropped her code name rather than giving her full one. So few people knew that anyways. Fewer connections. “And that bag, you’re running your hands threw, is mine.”

The boy knelt there, staring up at Sara. His fingers tightened around the handle of one of her throwing knives in her bag, and Sara gave her head a little shake.

He froze completely again, then let go. “I.. I swear I didn’t take anything.” He suddenly blurted out.

Sara knew the instant the words left his mouth, he was lying. “Empty your pockets.” She instructed.

He just sat there for a second or two before he ran hi hands through the pockets of his shorts. Out came a pack of gum. And then a coin purse Sara instantly recognized a her. She snatched it out of his hands, and counted her money. Two thirds of it was missing, so she held out her hand. “And the rest of this is where? Come on.”

“That’s all that was there!”

“Right.” Sara smirked. “Look kid. You’re talking to an expert thief here. I know exactly how much money I carry and about all the tricks and lies in the book.” She brandished the wallet under the child’s nose, Money I can get more of, but if there’s anything else missing, you and I will be taking a little walk.”

Quickly the feline went through her back pack. Checking off a mental list until her mental list came to the most important items of the mission, and no check came. The uncut diamonds, rubies and sapphires were missing… “There’s another pouch, that you need to remove from your pockets and give back.” Sara said simply. She held her hand out and waited.

The boy shook his head so fast his ears might as well of flapped. “No miss were. Miss Daughter of Bast. That was all. I swear.” The boy choked.

“You lied to me once.” Sara warned.

The boy shook his head again. Sara’s ears twitched as she heard his heart beat increase just before he suddenly pushed away from the wall. She reached out to grab him by the shoulder, just when he jumped. Then both of his feet slammed down on the candle stick that had been next to him.

All of a sudden the buildings around Sara spun. It was like someone threw an invisible net with fine mesh around her entire body, and was pulling her with a Semi truck. Her feet flipped out from under her and she was falling to the ground but before she hit, the boy and her were sucked into the wick end of the candle stick. There was a flash of light, and the buildings around them disappeared.

“Ok. So that makes at least three mutants currently in Egypt.” Sara mumbled as she felt her head swirling and she started to come to. It was obvious the boy she had confronted had some type of mutation. A mutation that had messed with Sara’s body. Her stomach was feeling the way it had when she was on the air plane and her eyes were blurry. The sun was beating down on her fur and with the heat that was against her skin, Sara guessed she’d been laying in the sand for a few minutes.

The boy mutant had landed a few feet away from her and as her eyes focused she saw his chest rise and fall indicating he was breathing. His head rolled and his eye lashes fluttered once before he started to blink and rub at his eyes. That meant he was ok and the minute Sara got to her feet she’d have to start dealing with him again, and get back those gems for her mission.

Sara slowly pushed herself up onto her knees and elbows. The toes on her right foot wiggled, then the twos on her left. Her hands tightened and loosened meaning that her body was whole and in working order. Sara stood all the way up, rubbing the last of the sand out of her eyes, and came face to face with a crowd of men and woman. Sara stared at them and they stared back at her.

Every one was dressed so strangely. Men and woman wore robes of warn fabric. Others wore nearly nothing. Just enough to cover their hips and back sides. One man at the front of the group raised his hand to get the attention of the rest. “All bow, for Bast has returned to us.” And simple as that they all knelt down to their knees. What ever they had been carrying from the harvest in the fields, had been placed on the ground, and their foreheads bowed so low to the ground they could have touched. All moving as one.

This was new… what in the world had that boy mutant done to Sara’s head?

Speaking of the boy, Sara saw him getting up out of the corner of her eye. “Halt!” She shouted. She took a step and her head started to spin again. Bringing her hand up to rub one eye. Before she knew it, the men and woman were looking up. Three of the men had rushed the boy. The first knocked him to the ground and the other two helped to pin him down.

“We have him, Bast.” There was that name again. But Sara was too confused to deny it. The first man continued. “What has he done. We’ll take care of him.”

The boy’s head lifted off of the sand, and he twisted so that his pail face could look back at Sara before his head was shoved back down into the sand. “Well he’s a thief, bu-”

“Done.” the man barked out. Two of the men held the boy down, while one grabbed his hand and pulled out a hunting knife.

This got Sara’s full attention. Forget the fact that there was a large crowd of men and woman bowing to her, she had a kid to save from crazy werecat worshiping people. “Stop!” Sara covered the ground between her and the men. She grabbed the wrist of the hand holding the knife and the other two men hopped away, scooting on their rear ends then kneeling to her again. Crazies. “This boy is a thief, but he is my thief.” Sara slipped into her BS frame of mind as she continued. These people found her important for some reason so what she wanted had to carry some leverage. “The boy is no good to me if he is missing a hand. Now give me the knife.”

Instantly the knife was dropped into Sara’s other hand. The man looked confused, glancing between Sara and the boy on the ground who was looking up again, now that no one was holding his head down. “So this is Bast’s slave?”

“.. .. .. Yes.” Sara wasn’t sure what this man was getting at, her instincts told her to go with their beliefs.

“Bast, it has been generations since new stories of your presents have been made. The stories did not mention you using slaves.” The man bowed his head, and knelt as far down as Sara allowed him to since she was still holding his hand. “Forgive us for our ignorance. Even slaves of Bast should eat well tonight. We must start plans for your celebration and make it twice this year.”

“Indeed.” Sara nodded and released the man who staid as knelt as he could as he backed up “Your temple is this way, Bast.”

The boy had started trying to sneak back to where the two of them had woken up in the sand and Sara grabbed him by the shoulder. “Come on now. We’re going to my temple.”

“But Bast, Miss Were, you don’t understand-“

Sara tightened her grip on the boy’s shoulder to cut him off. “I understand that people want to say my name is Bast, I have a temple, and apparently we’re going to it.. .. .. Now.”

Sara had been lead to a large structure in the middle of the sand, next to the Nile river. Some how she had convinced her escorts to let her and the boy mutant be alone at the temple while they left and did what ever they needed to do for this celebration.

The walls were large, and made of sand blocks that fit so close together Sara couldn’t see what held them there, nor could she see light from one side to the other. Huge columns stood on either side with pictures that told stories, decorating them. Then there was the cats. Tamed lions were chained to the front steps. Possibly used as guards for the temple but they were obviously worshiped. Sara could make out their muscle structure under their fur, but their muscles and strength that she could see, left something to be desired as they lay comfortable at the steps that led to the inside. Too spoiled to be a threat that a wild lion could be.

Once inside, thin cats with thin coats of fur, slender elegant bodies, and big eyes ate off of plates, and rubbed heads with each other as they went on about their feline days. They ignored Sara as she stepped to the back of the temple, looking up at a giant statute of a cat with a thick gold collar. Between it’s large feet lay a single cat, like the others, that watched Sara and her mutant boy with it’s golden lamp like eyes.

“I’ve got a few questions for you and I will know if you lie to me.” Sara told the boy. She sat down on the top step and padded the place next to her for the boy to follow. “Where are my gems?”

The boy stood in front of Sara. Not ready to sit right next to the feline and Sara didn’t push him any further. “I didn’t take your gems. I only took gum and money.”

Sara listened Carefully to his heart beat. She’d heard him lie before and based on the pattern of his heart, his breathing and the rate of his perspiration, he wasn’t lying now. Witch left her with an even bigger problem than what had his mutation done to her. What had happened to her Gems?

“Can,.. .. Can I ask you questions back, Miss Were? Miss Daughter of Bast?” the boy asked. The cat between the statue’s feet suddenly choked and sneezed but Sara could have sworn that the cat was actually laughing at the way the boy addressed her.

“Yes, within reason. And just call me Were.”

“Well Were. Why did you help me back there?” The boy clasped his fingers in front of him as he spoke. Standing straight but his eyes still pointed to the ground. Not right in Sara’s.

Sara sighed and reached out with one hand to lift his chin so his face came even with hers. His eyes flicked up for a second before pointing back down. “I wasn’t going to let you loose a hand for trying to survive. I understand why thieves are thieves, but that doesn’t get you off of the hook either. Now. You know my name. I’d like to know yours.”

“It’s Jack. Jack Squate, Miss Were.”

“Ok Jack Squate. I am aware that you are a mutant as well. I want to know what you did to me, and why people think my name is Bast.”

Jack looked back up into Sara’s eyes for a few seconds as Sara patiently waited for his reply. He sucked in a breath of air to steady himself as if she were about to beat him to a bloody pulp, even though she had just saved his hand. “I’m a time traveler.” Jack suddenly blurted out. When Sara tilted her head then nodded because time traveling made sense, he went on. “I’ve been a time traveler since I was seven but I’m not exactly sure what my age is now. I like skipping back and forth through history and by doing that, it’s sort of a different way of having jet lag because it does mess with your internal clock. When I have passengers they tend to get sea sick. You handled the ride better than others.”

“Really.” Sara mused. To be compared to others and told she’d done better than them on something related to traveling, Sara felt a little proud of herself.

“Before you grabbed me, I was only trying to skip to the day before, but my adrenalin kicked in when I felt your hands on me, and I kicked off of the year 2009 a little too hard, and we landed in Ancient Egypt. They used to,.. .. .. I mean the do worship cats now a days, and that’s what you are. In fact there are many cat gods. You showed up in lower Egypt, the side that has it a bit more rough, and your female, there for, the citizens believe you to be Bast, their goddess of protection and fertility, Miss Were.”

The cat between the large statute’s feet sneezed again and snorted repeatedly. Stopping and sitting straight when Sara glanced over her shoulder at her. “That’s funny.” Sara said, turning back around. “It’s amazing what the people from history will believe. If I told them Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, they’d probably start worshiping eggs.”

Jack shook his head. “No ma’am. Hupty Dumpty wasn’t worth worshiping. I met him in the 800s. Considering he could regenerate his body was really fragile. Falling one too many times really scrambled his brains. That’s what they get for having horses present when they put him back together. Good animals but they like to kick more than help.”

“What?”

“You know. Humpty Dumpty.” Jack said. “Every story has it’s origins in one way or another. Many of them have to do with mutants before man kind really understood what mutants were.”

Sara blinked and her head tilted. “So you’re telling me that there really could have been a Bast?”

“Damn skippy.”

“Watch the swearing.”

“Sorry. Anyways yes. Mutants have been a part of history. It’s just hard to understand exactly how much of history they have been a part of. You see, man kind, especially in the older days, like to blow stories out of proportion, either to stroke their own egos, or to tell better more exciting stories. Think of a projector. You have a slide for a picture that is actually only an inch tall, but when you shine light though it and point it to a wall, the slide’s picture can become huge, though not always in focus. the projection being the myth and the slide being the origins that inspired the myth.”

Jack started to get a little excited as he spoke. His eyes looked as though they glittered and he looked up into Sara’s eyes without her prompting him. “Imagine the mutants, through history, that the Greeks recorded. A Thunder manipulator named Zeus. Hercules’s amazing strength and stamina. Achilles and his weak heal.”

“Ok that’s all good and dandy and fun to know, but since you’re the time traveler why don’t you take us back to 2009?”

Jack’s smile slipped away. “I can’t.”

“What?” Sara’s voice rose and Jack took a step back. “What do you mean you can’t take us back? Being worshiped is fun and dandy and everything but I need to get back to 2009.”

“It’s the candle I had. I have to touch a candle to time skip, and my candle was left in the sand, where we landed. It tends to bury it’s self into the ground when it takes me places. I was going to retrieve it when you grabbed my shoulder and well. You’re scary.”

The commotion in the streets that day caught the attention of many curious eyes. It wasn't often that strangers appeared as if out of thin air, especially not ones as interesting as the these two. Eyes peered out of windows and looked down from roofs. People that had been walking or sitting in the street turned to stare. One pair of clear sky blue eyes peered around the edge of the vendor's tent she had been about to visit when the newcomers had first arrived.

The cobalt eyes watched the tall cat headed woman glance around as if she was confused, watched as she spoke to the temple attendants and others that had approached her, watched as she saved the boy with whom she had arrived from certain disfiguration and as she accepted the praise and the escort to the temple of Bast. One sharp pair of eyes noticed that in all the commotion something got left behind.

The sky colored eyes belonged to a girl named Akana. Her eyes were her favorite part about herself. She had inherited them from her grandfather and to her, they were a symbol that she was special. Amidst all the others with black hair, brown eyes, and tan skin, she was different and was happy to be so. Secretly, she hoped that her eyes were a sign that she had inherited something else from him as well. She wanted so badly to be special like he was.

Akana waited until the crowd had cleared, then scooted out into the street to retrieve something that no one else had noticed, placing it in her bag with her other things: essentials she had picked up while shopping that day. Then she hurried home. She knew her grandfather would be waiting nervously for her. He was overprotective and didn't like when she went out shopping alone. She had tried to tell him that at ten she was plenty old enough to take care of herself while shopping, but it didn't stop him from needlessly worrying.

Possibly her grandfather worried about her because she was the only family he had. Her mother had died giving her life, and her father had died shortly afterwards, killed by a hippopotamus while hunting on the Nile. Akana didn't even remember them. The only family she had ever known was her grandfather, Sebhihotep. Some people also jokingly called him Khaldun because he was so old. Akana just called him grandfather.

If Akana's eyes made her special for being different, her grandfather was very special. Rather than tan skin and dark hair, he had pure white skin and hair as well as the same blue eyes he had passed down to his daughter and granddaughter. He also had the longest beard Akana had ever seen on anyone. It grew from his chin almost all the way down to his waist. Her favorite part about him was his pure white twisted horn that grew from his forehead and his long white tail that swished behind him. Her grandfather always told her that looking different didn't make a person special, rather it was how they lived that made them special. Akana wasn't so sure. If that was the case, why did all the gods and goddesses look so unique and interesting? They certainly never looked like boring Egyptians.

“Grandfather,” Akana called as she entered the small dwelling where they both lived. “I'm home!” She knew he already knew that. Her sharp blue eyes had seen him watching from the window, though he was now pretending he had been busy mending his sandel.

“Grandfather, you will never guess what happened in the market today!”

Jack be nimble Jack be quick, but apparently Jack didn’t jump over the candle stick. He jumped on it to time skip and that’s why Sara was currently elbow deep in hot sand. Because when Jack Jumped, he time skipped. Who’d a thunk?

Sara and Jack had made it back to the clearing where the two of them had first poofed in out of no where. No one had seen them, and if they had, no one was stopping the great an powerful WereBast from the mission she had obviously taken so seriously. Apparently Goddesses don’t get questioned. Even when their digging elbow deep in dry, hot, sand, right next to their slave.

Sara was on her knees. She’d use her claws and paw like hands to pull sand away to the sides of a hole, sifting it through her fingers, while Jack mirrored her on the other side. Sara’s tail twitched impatiently behind her. “Are you sure this is the exact spot we landed?”

Jack had beads of sweat on his forehead and when he went to wipe them away with the back of his hand, Sand had stuck to his face in an arch. “I’m sure. I can feel the spots where I time jump as much as I can feel something on my skin.”

“Really?”

Jack’s head tilted up from the hole and he stared at Sara with raised eye brows. “No not really. Wow you’ll believe about anything, Were.”

Sara’s nose wrinkled and her ears flattened. “Great. We’re probably not even digging in the right spot.” Sara pulled away from the hole they’d been sifting in and dusted her hands off on her pants.

Jack shook his head as he practically dove back into the hole. “Not true.”

“Yeah right.”

“No really. This is the spot where we landed from my time skip. There’s the pyramids, and there’s the dwellings.” He pointed first at the edge of the sandy landscape where Sara could make out the temples, the pyramids, and then the houses on the there side of them.

“Then where’s the candle stick?” Sara was getting annoyed.

“It’s in the sand. It’s got to be in the sand.” Jack repeated. His hands still desperately digging through sand that he had already sifted through.

Sebhihotep frowned when he first noticed Sakmet enter the market. The lion faced woman built her power by tearing others down. Out of the countless Children of the Blood Sebhi had encountered, it was not uncommon for those with special abilities to set themselves up as gods or goddesses. Sakmet, though, was unrivaled in his long memory for her mean spiritedness. Even Hera's infamous jealousy paled in comparison to the malicious temper of the Egyptian cat woman. Sebhi pulled the big brim of his hat down, carefully to account for the horn hole, to more completely block the sun and his view of the queen cat. Maybe she wouldn't bother him today.

No such luck. Within minutes the feline goddess had sauntered her way over to harass him. Not that her barbarbaring really bothered him, but it scared off all the rest of the potential customers.

“So, Khaldun,” she spat his nickname as if the meaning were closer to 'old fart head' than it was to 'immortal one', “How goes life as a beggar? Are you tired yet of the human life? Are you ready to take your rightful place as one of the blessed?” She didn't really want him to claim godhood as she would regret the loss of even a single one of her own worshipers. She just wanted to torment him. “How about your granddaughter? Akana, wasn't it? Wouldn't you rather see her living in a palace attended by a thousand slaves rather than picking up trash from the streets to trade for loaves of bread?”

“Not especially,” he countered smoothly, “I wouldn't want her to turn out like a spoiled rotten brat.” Before she could work out if that was an insult or not, he continued, “Now, are you going to purchase that chalice, or are you just going to wring its neck like a chicken until the top comes off? If you break it, you buy it. Even a cup damaged by the hands of a goddess is worth no more than a functional vessel when you want a drink.”

She glowered at him and set the cup back on the table, none to gently. “I wouldn't want that piece of crap anyway. You probably just picked it up off the ground.”

“Some of the best treasures are found on the ground. That candle for instance,” Sebhi gestured toward the twisted stump of wax, “not that you'd be at all interested in who dropped that. Never mind, sorry for taking up your time Miu,” he used his own annoying nickname for her referring to her as a cat rather than a lioness she resembled, “you must have other shopping to do today. Certainly nothing at my humble cart would interest you.”

She growled in the back of her throat, annoyed by the familiar name so unworthy of a goddess. Nevertheless, he curiosity had been piqued. She was related to cats, after all. “Now wait just a minute, whitebeard. Why would I care who dropped this piece of garbage on the ground? Even if a goddess threw it away, why should I want someone's old garbage?”

Sebhi smiled mysteriously, “I didn't say she threw it away, I said she dropped it. But you are right, you wouldn't want it.” He waved his hand dismissively and shrugged his shoulders, “its much too expensive for someone with such tight purse strings anyway. Just forget I said anything.”

Sakmet glared at him menacingly, and yanked out her purse. “Tell me who dropped it,” she snarled as she slammed a fistful of coins down on the table.

Sebhi laughed lightly, but didn't move to take the money. “That might cover the cost of the name or the candle, but not both.” An extra handful of coins would be nice. It would buy that weeks' bread and leave a little extra left over to help send Akana to school in Alexandria to become a womens' doctor.

An extra handful of coins followed, and an extra growl.

“The candle is yours, as is the name 'Bast'. May Osiris look down on you, Sakmet.” The blessing fell on ears that were already walking away, though her tail swished in annoyance that any god could look down at her. Sebhi smiled at her retreating back and waved. He'd keep his shop open a bit longer. He didn't need any more money for the day, but there were a couple of curious customers that may want to take a peek at his wares now that the she-devil had vacated the premises.

The hot sun had drifted across the rest of the sky. Disappearing completely with the distant cry of a falcon, as if the bird had ordered the banishment of the light.

As nimble and as quick as Jack was, Jack never found the candle stick. Neither did Sara, because if they had, they wouldn’t of been there when the boats came down the river. Sara wouldn’t of had a bright red nose, from blushing, when the light of the torches first found her digging through the sand, and the people holding the torch lights wouldn’t of been looking at her with the most bewildered expressions, because apparently digging through the sand with your slave wasn’t something most goddesses did. The celebration had completely stopped. Where there had been music, dancing and general rowdy carrying on, as the boat made it’s way down the river, There were just the sounds of the water splashing against the sand and the sides of the boat.

The sea of people surprised Sara as much as she surprised them. They each were dressed in different types of robes. Some had come straight from the work in the fields, or what ever job they were doing leaving men of various sizes and ages bare chested. Some wore older garments, that showed the worn areas from having worked all day in various jobs, while others had, had time to change into newer, more impressive robes. Or at least they had the cloths that looked less worn. Then there were those who managed to adorn themselves with tiny bits of gems and gold

Offerings were carried in clay pots and baskets. Everything from simple food items, copper and brass blades, to head dresses and gem stone laid in settings so ornate, Sara had only seen similar, if not the same ones, in national geographic, when there was an article of a tom discovery.

Speaking of magazine articles, Sara still had that article to read that Johnny had given her…. .. Maybe later. Sara reminded herself. For now, she still had to get back to the present, err, ah.. .. Future, to even pick the magazine up.

Fortunately for Sara, a few quick words she couldn’t even remember Jack Saying, smoothed over the surprised looks of the crowd and got the celebration running again. If Sara didn’t know any better, she’d think the Jack had a public speaking mutation as well. Second thought, ask Jack about that later.

Back at the temple, everything had been rearranged. The steps leading up to the walk way had mounds of sand in the corners, when Sara and Jack had first arrived. Now, someone had swept those off an dusted the paintings on the huge Columbus. The cats were all lazily stretched out around the giant cat statue. Each of them had been adorned with jewelry, and all looked rather regal with their heads elegantly dipped and their lamp like eyes reflecting the torch light as they watched the party. Only a couple of spoiled kittens tarnished the over all elegance and dignity as a child teased them with a long piece of dried grass that the kittens stalked, wrestled with, and tumbled down the steps after when it was just out of reach. Really the only cat that seemed like she wasn’t enjoying herself was the old one, that Sara had noticed sitting between the statue’s legs earlier. The cat was still there, looking as if she hadn’t moved, even when she had been dressed in her gold, as if this party was an everyday event. She chose to pretend to be sleeping with her head resting on her crossed paws, as her eyes squinted and followed Sara around. Creepy.

The crowd kept growing as well. More boats arrived at the temple of Bast and the people spilled out of them, no longer able to even make it up the steps, because of the group that had already gathered. So they held their own private celebrations on the flats of the sand. Waiting the many hours, and the way the crowd was looking, maybe even days, as if this were the ticket line for Sci-Fi convention where rumors said those attending would have a chance to shake hands with Spock or Luke Skywalker.

Sara was lost in the center of everything. She really wasn’t sure what to make out of this celebration that was for her honor. She’d never had the chance to be treated like this, and all sorts of mixed feelings were swirling around inside her head. Sara found herself draped comfortably, in a chair, sitting sideways with her legs dangling over one arm, looking predatory and relaxed. Jack was seated next to her in a lower chair. The straps to his flip flops had come off one side of the sandal and he was currently working on shoving the plastic strap back through the rubber sole.

This was a completely new experience that Sara had never even dreamed of exploring. For her entire life, She had either been forced to fight or forced to run and hide. Everything about the last few hours of her life, went against all of her instincts. She was in the middle of a large crowd, and she wasn’t trying to hunch to make herself look shorter, or pull a hood so far over her face, that she could only see the feet of the people directly in front of her. She wanted to enjoy herself, so much that she ached.

This was a honor. Even Sara could understand a party and understand that it was being held just for her. However exactly why the party was being held for her, she didn’t exactly get. To be honest, Sara had never heard the name of Bast before. She understood that she was some sort of Goddess, based on the information Jack had said earlier. Sara should have asked Jack about the goddesses history, and personality, when they were digging in the sand, alone. With all of the norms around, asking exactly what this goddess stood for and did would be stupid. Why would the great Bast have to ask about herself?

However, as the night wore on and faded into what would soon be the next day, Sara was starting to get an idea as men, woman, and children lay the offerings that they could afford at her feet and asked her for favors. Kneeling and speaking with their noses nearly to the dirt at Sara’s, err…. At Bast’s feet. Their voices muffled into the sandy floor so much Sara doubted she’d be able to hear them if she hadn’t been granted such extravagant hearing. Many of the requests would be simple to grant.

“Bast. Daughter of Raw. Snakes have taken refuge in our grain storage. This morning my husband came close to being bitten. Can you rid us of them?”

Snake weren’t a problem. Why couldn’t Sara say yes?

“Bast. Daughter of Raw. My son is moving tomorrow. Will you protect him on his travels?”

Exactly how far was that one moving? Because Sara already promised safe refuge for another. Then there were the requests that were a little more odd.

“Bast. Daughter of Raw. I want a baby. Will you grant me fertility?”

Err. Ah… Bast can do that?

The sun was just breaking into dawn, by the time that a second predatory feline stalked her way onto the scene. Surrounded by a crowd of her own faithful followers. Men decorated in gold an brass swords at their hips.

Sakmet was dressed to impress as well. Her gold was the most elaborate and colorful as gem stones sparkled and reflected the light of the torches and fires. She walked like her men weren’t even there for in her mind, even though she ordered them to follow her, she didn’t need them, Not to put this, Bast in her place. (Of course if they left hell would hath no furry like an abandoned Sakmet.) Sakmet had statuesque posture. Her head was held high as she expected all subjects to bow below her line of sight. The very fact that she kept her line of sight so high for them, should be considered a gift. Yet, here the ungrateful wretches were, honoring the return of Bast. That was no matter. Sakmet had enough men to deal with every single one of the ungrateful ones.

As Sakmet made her way though the crowd, she didn’t raise her voice. She wouldn’t raise her voice to them. Yet her presence demanded all the attention she needed as she slowly began to have heads turn in her direction and men, woman and children fell away, out of her path, falling to their knees to bow to her as Sakmet’s smooth flowing movement carried her closer and closer to the guest of honor. “Sister o fthe blood, Bast.” Sakmet’s voice was at a low timbre, however how ever powerful enough to travel around the gathered crowd. “It’s been a long time.”

It took a moment for Sara to realize that the crowd, that had come out to welcome her, was now splitting apart like the Red Sea. Sakmet had people moving and pulling others out of her way, then bowing to her with the power of just her presence.

Jack leaned towards Sara to whisper in her ear. "That's Sakmet."

"Great." Sara mumbled. hopefully only Jack heard her. It was bad enough trying to pretend that she was Bast around people who didn't know Bast. Now she had to play the part around someone who apparently did. The good news was this one also thought that she was Bast so Sara had to be doing something right.... Right?

Sara stood from her seat as Jack backed away. He joined the crowd leaving Sara to address Sakmet in return. "Sister of the Blood Sakmet. I expect that you have been doing well." Sara did her best to imitate the other feline goddess, but in the end it looked a little like she might have been mocking her. The corner of Sakmet's mouth twitched down with her ears as a first response.

Sakmet reached the alter where Sara's chair had been lifted above the crowd. The other cat goddesses movement became more like a stalk as her path turned and she began to circle Sara the way a shark would it's prey in the sea. "There is one thing that I don't understand, sister." Sakmet's voice raised as she walked. she may have spoken softly before but this, she wanted everyone in the crowd to hear and think about. "You abandoned your people years ago. Everything of yours, but your cats left your temples, then when you return, your people flock to you. Yet I've been here this entire. Faithful. Steady. and I've kept all of my promises. Why is it that they so readily return to you?" She crooned at the crowd. The last words sounding dark and cold. A few of the crowd members cared to peek up at her and Sara thought that she saw one of two of them shutter.

Sara's eyes lingered for a moment on the crowd and then darted back to Sakmet. "I can not answer that question, but have you ever thought about asking your subjects?" Sara motioned to the crowd. Those who had chose to peek up from bowing, snapped their heads back down. Apparently her subjects wished to stay invisible as much as Sakmet wished to believe that they had no voices of their own.

Sakmet laughed. "The job of a God isn't to listen to what their people want." Sakmet reached out and grabbed Sara's cheek, pinching her between padded, clawed hands, that were like Sara''s own hands. "Lets at least keep one thing straight. I only took over these.... people..... because you left." Sakmet pulled Sara forward, and after a moment, the skin below her fingertips burned past Sara's fur, leaving two oval shaped marks on her face when Sakmet let go. Leaving Sara to rub her cheek as it healed.

"Well maybe that's why I'm back then." Sara grumbled before she really thought about what she was saying.

Sakmet's eyes narrowed on Sara., They looked cold, meanwhile the air around the two of them began to heat. "This isn't about me, this is about you, sister." a smile twisted across Sakmet's face. "and as long as we are on the subject of you, I heard that you lost something." Sara tilted her head, as Sakmet fittled with a long pouch. Sakmet looked triumphant as she casually pulled out the candle.

"That's mine!" Jack blurted out. Sakmet has stopped circling Sara so that her back was facing Jack, but when he yelled out about the candle stick, she was ready for him when he stood up and tried to grab it away from her. She moved the candle stick at the last second, letting Jack's hands close around air, then she snatched his wrist, yanking him onto the platform with her.

"Actually this is mine. I purchased it yesterday afternoon." Sakmet informed Jack now happy to make an example of him in front of all of her subjects. Waves of heat began to rise from Sakmet's skin, and Jack cried out, squirming in her grip. The skin where she held him turned red, then dried. Sara smelled it start to burn and if Sakmet didn't stop, Jack would have more than a bad sunburn on his wrist. If Sakmet vurned long enough, she could take his hand.

"Let him go." Sara told Sakmet. The crowd had stopped facing the ground and had started peeking up. Sakmet's men shifted between the feline goddess platform and the audience. Sakmet tightened her grip around Jack's wrist, and more heat waves rose up. There was a delay and Jack cried out again.

Sara snapped and jumped at Sakmet. There was a brief struggle between the two of them. jack was tossed sideways in the process where he landed hard on his knees. Somewhere in the process, Sara landed on top of Sakmet but that was only for a moment when she was tossed to the side near Jack.

"Thieves must be punished. Sister. Even you agreed about that at one time." Sakmet got up before Sara and in a heart beat, was across the platform. Her hand gripped the nape of Sara's neck, and Sara found herself pressed against a temple support. "Take my advise, and either remember what you are, or leave again." The last part of what Sakmet had to say was laced with a growl and a threat.

The confrontation between Sara and Sakmet had ended in the awkward way of them letting go of each other. Sakmet's skin and breath had left burns on both Sara and Jack, but Sara healed. Jack didn't. As a result, Jack had been lead off to visit a healer. His wrist wrapped in damp cloth and some sort of jell. Like Sara, Jack was still dressed in twenty first century cloths, and he made an odd site in his shorts, grey t-shirt, and flip flops walking next to robed men and woman in bare feet and dark eyes.

When Sakmet left, many of the people whom had come to welcome back the great and wonderful Bast, left with her. Those that staid fell silent and the cheerful mood had been sucked out of the atmosphere. Sakmet's men returned later in the evening, and by only their presence, they made the crowd's stragglers slink away one by one. Soon, Sara was alone in the temple, with the cats of Bast and the entire time, she couldn't shake the creepy feeling that she was getting from one cat, who wouldn't stop staring at her. Glaring at her like this entire situation was her fault.

Feeling ill tempered and stupid, Sara had long since stepped off of the plat form so that she could sit next to it, rather than on it. While the people had left, their offerings remained, and Sara found herself trying to find a distraction within them. Slowly, Sara untangled a set of gold bracelets and started slipping them onto her wrist. Then admiring them in the light. She didn't notice that the creepy cat had moved from it's perch at the foot of the large monument, dedicated to the real Bast, and sat next to her.

"All that you are going to do is hurt them."

Sara jumped and looked around. She'd expected to see a person whom had snuck up on her, or even another animal faced deity ready to tell her about godlyness.

"and those bracelets are mine for my people. Not yours."

Sara's eyes snapped down following the sound of the voice but it took a moment for realization to hit her that the creepy cat was talking. Lamp like eyes continued to stare at Sara and with little warning they grew. The house cat that Sara had been staring at, became another cat human hybrid like Sara. "I suppose you're the goddess Bob Dole." Sara said with sarcasm laced in her voice. She had a feeling that she'd solved the mystery of the missing Bast but sarcasm felt needed.

"Bob Dole?" The other cat woman tilted her head. Sara's eyes dropped from hers from a moment, just before she realized that she was sitting next to a naked mutant version who closely resembled herself. Sara's nose darkened into a blush and she let her eyes travel back up into the other feline's again as she shook her head. The other feline indicated herself with her hand. "I am Bast." The words weren't said with anger but authority. Eyes dilating as she said her next words. "And you are an impostor in my land. Sakmet is bad enough. If you hurt my people again, I will have your heart fed to Ammut."

Sara glared at Bast. Her already sour mood for being so close to Jack's candle had not been helped by the fellow feline stalking her. "Well apparently you're not paying attention to current events, because I'm not the one you're people fear nor am I the one who is hurting them." Sara removed the gold bracelets. Their temptation no longer appealed to her, and she crossed her arms as she got to her feet. Sitting within arms reach of some glaring, accusing, cat goddess wasn't a good idea. "Oh wait. They are now Saaaakmet's people. That's right. Right? You abandoned them? I get the blame? Oh nice move there."

"I did not abandon them." Bast answered Sara. Her words and voice were calm but when Sara looked back into her eyes, they were as wild as Sara had ever seen on another cat. Mutant, animal, or in the mirror. "I have been here this entire time."

"Hiding." Sara interrupted and scoffed.

The real Bast shook her head. "Not if people really wanted to look."

Sara snapped. "Apparently they did look, and Saaaaakmet's people found me. So now I have your job. What ever it was."

"Protection and guidance."

"And Fertility?"

"Sometimes but things get a little complicated there."

"Greaaat." Bast grinned at Sara and Sara felt the heat behind her cheeks again as she began to blush.

"You made a lot of promises today. Do you have the power to keep all of them?" Bast's grin melted away and she tilted her head at Sara as she spoke.

"I can keep some of them. Yes." Sara replied. She was only one person after all.

"But you can't keep all of them. No child of the blood, no god, can keep all of their promises unless they limit themselves."

"Or if you disappear and leave them to be burned by another." Sara continued what she felt Bast should say next. After all, if Bast hadn't disappeared, Sara wouldn't have been mistaken for her.

In a flash, Bast was at her feet and in front of Sara. Sara had height on her but she pegged Bast for having more tricks up her sleeves.... if she was wearing sleaves. eyes up eyes up eyes up. "I disappeared to help my people." Bast's voice rose with every stacato note she could get out of the words.

"How!" Sara demanded to know.

"Because I laid the damage down on them already and your presence is going to continue to hurt them." There was nothing like getting blamed for something that you had no control over. "By making promises to them, you are causing them to stop doing things for themselves. Your empty promises cause them to love you and because of the potential to gain something from you, they will continue to love you. You will let them down, and when you do, they won't know what to do on their own."

Sara and Bast fell silent for a moment. Sara fuming and Bast choosing to stare off at the river. It was Sara who broke the silence. "So what would you want done about Sakmet. She hurts your people too."

"Nothing right now. She has done less harm than you."

Bast had changed back into a small cat again. She'd blend in with the other cats of the temple if it wasn't for the fact that Sara had decided to keep her under close surveillance. There would be no more being surprised by naked feline goddesses. No more reminding herself eyes up eye up.

It hadn't taken Jack long to return. It seemed that the healer he had been taken to also was a 'child of the blood.' Even after meeting the other two female feline mutants, and being chucked back into the past, this still surprised Sara.

Outside the temple, the people of Bast were slowly returning. They quietly protesting the guards of Sakmet with their eyes lowered to the sand at their feet, but not listening when they were told to leave. It didn't take long before before emotions ran so high that Sara's attention was drawn to it. The small feline that was Bast sat on her temple's steps staring at the scene when Sara came up behind her.

There at the foot of the temple were her people. One young man stood before the soldiers of Sakmet. His defiant chin raised high even though his eyes still wouldn't meet theres'. One of Sakmet's men raised his weapon at the man'd neck.

Adrenalin pumped through Sara's body. She was positive she could take Sakmet's men and so she moved to dive down the steps onto him only to hit an invisible wall that knocked her to the ground. Sakmet's men were screaming orders and so was Sara but her words echoed right back into her face off of the invisible force field. Again she tried to break it but it walloped her back to the temple platform. Mean while the cat that was Bast just sat there on the top step of her temple with her tail twitching.

"What is this?" Sara yelled at the cat. Mean while Sakmet's men collected two more of Bast's followers. Spears and longs sword like blades raised to them as well. "Stop them!" Sara demanded again. Her words reverberating off of the wall and assaulting her ears again. Mean while Bast acted as though she couldn't hear Sara. Just like the rest of Bast's followers couldn't seem to hear her either.

Sara could take them. She could save them just like she saved Jack if she could just get through. Jack was at her back. Watching as she beat her fists against what seemed like echoing air. The soldiers pulled back their weapons and Sara doubled her efforts to get through the front entry way of the temple. all this time, not even the followers of Bast looked her way and her efforts were unnoticed and to top it all off Bast was still there. Sitting there. Doing nothing. NOTHING.

Sara didn't understand the situation as Bast's people wouldn't fight back either. Sakmet's men were out numbered. There was no fight like Sara so desperately wanted to see. either from Bast's other followers for from herself. There was just a slaughter. Bast's people fell dead before the rest.