20
Mahu
“You mean if I were to change you?” asked Temaj.
Mahu shook his head, but before he could answer, his muscles seized. He would have collapsed completely if Daka and Temaj hadn’t been holding him. His knees buckled, and together, the three of them sank to the dusty street in the middle of the town square.
“Mahu,” cried Daka, wrapping his arms around his chest from behind to keep him upright.
Mahu clutched his throat, his mouth moving, but he was unable to make a sound. He gasped for air only to be refused by his traitorous lungs. In his chest, panic blazed. Something was terribly wrong. He felt as if he were drowning.
“Breathe, Mahu,” Daka begged, holding him.
Temaj knelt in front of them, looking just as terrified as Mahu felt. “Oh no.”
Hot liquid dribbled from Mahu’s nose. He shook in Daka’s arms, trying his best to cough, but air refused to budge. More wet heat gurgled from his mouth. Blood.
Around them, a crowd began to gather.
“We need to get him out of here,” said Temaj.
“He’s dying. Do it, Temaj, please!” Poor Daka. His fear matched Mahu’s. Maybe it was worse.
Temaj shook his head. “Not without his consent.”
Mahu’s vision began to blur, the edges turning black. He wasn’t ready. He hadn’t said goodbye. Daka still needed him. White pinpricks of light danced between him and Temaj.
“More blood, then, something.” Daka again. His voice echoed as if he were far away and not just behind him.
“Hide us,” Temaj ordered.
Daka leaned over them, shielding their bodies from onlookers as Temaj bit into his own wrist and forced the blood to Mahu’s mouth. Mahu’s lips were parted, but he only wanted air. He desperately, frantically needed air!
“Swallow, Mahu,” said Temaj. “Stop trying to breathe and swallow. You must focus.”
Delirious, Mahu tried to obey, but he was so starved for air, swallowing seemed impossible.
Temaj’s blood mixed with his own in his mouth. Mahu shut his eyes and forced himself to swallow. His body protested, thrashing in Daka’s firm grip, urgently seeking to breathe.
This was it. Mahu would pass out, and he would die.
His heart skipped then hurtled, pounding against his ribcage.
Just when the world began to blacken, Temaj’s blood slid down his throat and worked its magic. Mahu’s airway opened enough for him to gasp, a sputtering inhalation of life that only served to prolong the agony.
Not enough. Not nearly enough.
“Careful Mahu, in and out, gently,” said Temaj. “I need to know what you want.”
“The river.” Those two words were all Mahu could manage. He didn’t want to die in the middle of the town square, but if he could only breathe long enough to get to the river, he could let go in peace. He could die in the Nile’s embrace.
Strong arms swept him up. Cradled against Temaj’s chest, Mahu focused only on breathing. A little air in, a little air out. The world around him faded to a jostling whirl, gray and black.
It wouldn’t be long now. He’d hold Ahset in his arms. Tell Kasmut and Beni he loved them. How he’d missed them.
* * *
Daka
