Chapter One

She had not made a good slave, having been raised in luxury and comfort by the temple priests. Nor had she mourned the Master's death, vile conqueror that he was. It had taken her months to gather the right seeds, and months more to painstakingly inscribe his name on each one, all the while holding fast to her hatred. Finding the perfect opportunity to crush them into his spiced wine had been another obstacle, but she had waited with the patience of a spider. Months of preparation, and it had taken him only days to die, too soft a fate for the defiler of children. It was bitter fruit she had sown with those seeds though. Her treachery had not bought her freedom, merely ensured a lingering death.

Staring blindly into the inky blackness of the crypt, she doggedly held on. Her tongue was dry and swollen, glued tightly to the roof of her mouth. Her breathing had become slow and labored, her pulse weak and irregular. At last, she was forced to admit she was lost. Summoning every ounce of strength, she called out almost without volition "Anubis!" With her last breath she cried out for the father she had long denied. She never felt him answer. Spent, she lapsed finally into a void of reason, a grey and formless limbo, her final conscious thought the knowledge that her plea gone unanswered. She felt a vague sense of surprise at the pain this brought, and the shadows closed in around her.

A lifetime passed in the world of shadows. Ardith was aware of little but the passing of time. There was no pain, just eternal boredom. Old thoughts and bitter memories resurfaced, prodding half-healed wounds. Orphaned, marked irrevocably as the spawn of Anubis, her life had by no means been sweetness and light. Oh, the priests had been kind enough, but Ardith had longed for acceptance and love. The longing was never fulfilled. Always it had been the same. Always… until the Master and his army came. Even then, only the location changed. She was still the oddling, orphan, the one left out. The memories circled endlessly… abandoned by her mother… forgotten by her father… unwanted… unneeded… Over and over again. The very sameness of it ate at her, plaguing her mind until she longed to die.

It was a source of great wonder to her then, when sound suddenly began to weave its way into her grey and silent realm. She rolled the precious sound over in her mind; feeling it, tasting it, holding it close, cherishing its novelty. So long had it been since she had heard speech, it took here several minutes to realize the blessed sound was a human voice. Intrigued, she began at last to listen.

"Where are you little one? I feel you in the shadows there. Can you hear me? I have come for you. Meryah?"

It was a woman's voice, soft and beguiling. A smooth and sensuous sound, low toned and beckoning. Ardith felt a faint stirring of both desire and something she couldn't quite name. Perhaps a sense of recognition? Recognition? How? The name it called was not hers, and yet she was certain it sought her. Bemused, she struggled to move, to answer, to call back somehow. There was something in her that could not bear to lose the voice now that she had found its mellow warmth. She could not face the enforced solitude again.

Unheralded, sight joined with sound as an odd blue light suffused the grey roiling of the clouds around her. Beyond the light, as if at a great distance, a slim figure stood in shadow. The figure turned slowly, seemingly seeking direction. As it turned to face her, it began to move slowly closer.

Small details became clear as it neared. Slim, supple, undeniably feminine, she moved with unearthly grace. Clad in a gown of diaphanous black, she looked as if she had been plucked straight from the night sky. Her unruly mass of ebony hair was caught in a net of glittering gems. White diamonds they were, shining like distant stars. She was decidedly not human. Eyes like deep amber pools dominated a face of ethereal beauty.

It was those eyes that caught at Ardith, holding her in thrall. Her world narrowed until there was nothing left but amber cat's eyes, soft words, and the sound of her own breathing. There was no animosity in those eyes, no hint of malice, yet they chilled Ardith to the depths of her soul. Their steady regard made her gravely uneasy, as if she had been tested and found wanting.

She knew she must look like some pale wraith next to this dark inhuman beauty. Her blonde hair, bleached white by the desert sun, and her fair skin, along with her slender height, had been a legacy from her father. She had always been an anomaly in the desert kingdoms, a distinction she abhorred. Now, after her long sojourn in darkness, she thought bitterly, she must look like death incarnate. Self-consciously she leaned forward, cloaking her face in a cloud of hair.

"So, little one," the voice was a soft caress, a silken kiss. "Here you are at last, hidden in shadow. I have sought you among the thousand planes for an age. Won't you at least look at me? Meryah? Please?"

"Who…who are you?" Ardith despised the timorous quaver in her voice. Steeling herself, she looked up once more into those still, golden eyes.

The inhuman face looked taken aback momentarily. "Your father didn't even tell you about me?"

"Anubis? Ha! Great gods have no time for half-mortal scum." Ardith spat out, years of bitterness spilling over into her voice. " Why would he bother? Who are you?"

The glowing eyes closed briefly, freeing Ardith from their hypnotic spell. Studying the face before her, she realized that the odd pull of recognition, perhaps even kinship, was growing steadily stronger. Oddly enough, Ardith found this comforting. When the woman, if that's what she was, finally spoke Ardith found herself more confused than ever.

"Have you ever heard of the Anakarre?" When Ardith shook her head, the woman sighed heavily before continuing. "They are a race of near-immortals, older by far than your gods.

Ardith stirred uncomfortably, her temple upbringing making her ill at ease with the turn this was taking.

Seeing the look on her fact, the woman smiled, showing the tips of slim white fangs. "It is not blasphemy child. They may even be among the night demons that frightened you as a child. Nightstalkers, devourers, drinkers of blood…" Hearing Ardith's sharp intake of breath, her smile became more feral, her fangs more evident. "They are, all of them, female. They mate outside themselves to procreate, but their daughters are always Anakarre. They are not truly demons, merely different. The mother of this race is called the Analith." Pausing, she looked straight at Ardith as if gauging her reaction. "I am Analith."

"You are?" Ardith was appalled by the inanity of her question, yet at the same time amazed at how calm she sounded. Her thoughts were a chaotic jumble, nothing but turmoil and confusion. After all, how could this be? She could sense no evil, no stench of death about this woman. There was no taint of blood about her. Ardith had always been extremely sensitive to the smell of blood. This couldn't be true, but why would she lie? What could she hope to gain? Shaking her head, Ardith voiced the question foremost in her mind, "What has this to do with me?"

Eyes hooded once more by thickly lashed lids, Analith appeared to be studying her long red nails. She spoke softly, without looking up. "My children have always been strong, survivors… My youngest, Meryah, was no exception. Born of love, she should have had twice the strength of the others, but…" Her voice trailed off, nearly breaking.

Startled by Analith's use of the name she had called Ardith by earlier, Ardith merely stared, waiting for her to continue. Long moments passed in complete silence while she waited. It seemed an eternity before the woman spoke once more.

"Always had I kept my daughters close to me, raising them to know all their strengths and limitations. Always had I kept them safe until…" Analith at last met Ardith's eyes squarely, "Until you were born, Meryah."

M.C. Sak (c) 1999