Page 25 of Feline Good

Not too long after getting back to work on her project, she fell into a smooth pattern of repetitive work. It was relaxing watching the piece come together one line of thread at a time. She’d gone through the motions often enough, she barely had to think about what she was doing. Seeing the black color morph thread by thread into a cute cat brought a smile to her face.

Maya had only been weaving for a half hour before she fell into a vision.

It was an odd sensation-- almost like dreaming, but she was still aware of her surroundings. The warm wood of the carved boat still fit smooth against her palm as she threw it through the shed, the reed still made the slightest creaking sound when she cranked it forward to compact the threads together.

But in her head, she saw something totally different, like a movie playing just for her. And just like in a theater, she could do nothing to stop the characters from making a mistake, nor could they see her. She just was.

Believe her when she said she'd tried. When she watched her parents killed all over again, she'd tried to tackle the bad guys in her older, more experienced form rather than hide in the pantry, but she just fell right through them, like a ghost. So, she learned her lesson. Instead, Maya now sat and watched a story unfold.

She was in ancient Egypt, but the opulent surroundings seemed to fade away as she stared at the woman before her. Long, dark hair framed a gorgeous face, eyes outlined in kohl. The woman paced as angry, snarled words fell from her lips. Even though the woman spoke in ancient Egyptian, Maya understood every word.

Her lilting accent was beautiful, the cadence similar to that of Amir, Asher, and August. She paced the room, all while raging, cursing and plotting. Maya gulped as she realized why: she was pissed at the humans. They were disobeying the Gods and Goddesses and refusing to take them seriously, indifferent to their existence.

“After all we've done for them. They go and ignore us like this? Ungrateful…” cue more cursing, and Maya winced at her vicious tone. This lady was not playing around.

A man entered the room where the woman raged, and her tirade on worthless creatures paused as they greeted each other.

“Ra.”

“Sekhmet.”

The names were familiar to Maya, and not only because of the recent research she'd been exploring with the guys. Ra was the sun god, the most important of the ancient Egyptians, though it seemed Sekhmet was pretty full of herself too.

Observations.

She chuckled when Ra spouted off a rather sassy line. “Sekhmet, calm down! You're just mad because for some time now libations have been tapering off for you. Your followers grow lazy, those lushes.”

Of course, that sent her over the edge, and even Maya rolled her eyes. Every man should know, one never told a woman to calm down. It was like throwing a lit match on kerosene soaked kindling.

Ra crossed his arms and patiently waited until Sekhmet was done raging, and she ended her one sided discussion with a flip of her shiny black hair.

“Well, if you're so pissed off, why don't you do something about it?” He sarcastically bowed. “I give you my blessing.”

Sekhmet narrowed her eyes and seemed to think on his words. Maya saw his instant regret at the flippant words.

“You know what, Ra? That's a damned good idea. I might just do that.”

Ra held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Now, hold on a second, Sekhmet, we need to talk this out. You can't just go off half-cocked and start killing people. Let me get you a drink.”

Sekhmet brushed his hands away in a flurry of movement, her blood-red dress sleeves flapping with her motions. “Oh, I can't, hmm? Watch me.”

Storming from the room, she waved pettily over her shoulder. “Good talk, Ra.”

From there, the vision shifted, and like one of those View Master toys from her childhood, the scenery changed to one of an ancient city. Bodies lay strewn upon the ground, sand congealing in crimson rivers of a graphic nightmare.

This was Sekhmet’s handiwork, releasing her violence and rage upon the humans for dismissing the Gods like they had been.

Another flash— an image of Ra, pure regret stamped in every feature and line on his face. He devised a plan to trick Sekhmet, to punish her for her unacceptable actions. This had gotten out of hand; Ra never intended for it to go this far. The blame for all these deaths lay in his hands, but he intended to get even.

She was too powerful to stop head on, so to appeal to Sekhmet's blood thirst, he colored beer the perfect shade of crimson to match the blood flowing. Pouring it out, he waited until Sekhmet drank her fill. When she was drunk off the heket, he swooped in.

The scene flashed, and Maya saw Ra standing with another woman as they spoke. Sekhmet was nowhere to be found.

“You did what?” The beautiful woman whisper yelled, as if their conversation was private.

“You heard me, Bast. I stuck her in a secret little pocket of time. No one will find her there, and she can’t cause anymore harm.” Ra beamed at a job well done, his confidence radiating like the sunlight.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Ra? Leave her all alone?” Pity burned in the gaze of the benevolent woman, Bast, who Maya deduced to be Bastet, the goddess responsible for her men's powers.