“She’s not yours to take!” Seth spat.
Before his father could react, Seth dashed into a sprint with Natti stumbling beside him. They had made it to the grand hypostyle hall when Natti collapsed. He rushed back to her and pulled her up.
“Natti, you have to keep moving. You have to keep running.”
Natti nodded, but her breathing was shallow. She looked worse than she did before, and her eyes, though not completely dilated, couldn’t focus, not even on his face. He wasn’t sure what his father’s charm had done to her, though it had clearly drained her of whatever energy she had left. His heart sank into his stomach.
Seth raised his head when he heard his father’s screams turn into a call to the subordinate priests. “The traitor escaped and has taken the girl with him! Kill him! Kill him and bring her back to me! I want that girl! I want her heart!”
A thunder of sandals responded, echoing through the halls.
“Natti, move!” Seth shouted.
She automatically obeyed. Seth pulled her along, moving through the rows of large painted columns. They passed the temple courtyard, through the gateway, and started to ascend the stairs. Natti kept tripping and falling over her bare feet. Her muscles twitched and jerked, refusing to cooperate. Seth forced her back up and continued on until she once again stumbled to her knees.
“Just go! I’m slowing you down.”
Seth’s heart raced at her sudden cry, his hope rekindling.
“I’m not leaving you,” he panted and picked her up. The clapping footfalls of the Sons’ sandals were getting closer and closer. “We’re almost there. You just need to keep up with me, okay?”
Seth wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her with him, keeping her steady each time she stumbled. Their pace slowed a bit, and Seth’s body was growing weary. Each landing they reached caused his muscles to beg for him to pause.
They finally reached the door leading into town hall; the Sons of Set just coming up behind them. Seth slammed the door closed, leaned Natti against the wall, and dragged the heavy stainless steel trash bin forward to block the exit.
Seth then carefully scooped Natti into his arms. She moaned, leaned her head onto his chest, and closed her eyes. He carried her down the empty hall and kicked the main entrance door open. The sun light blinded him. He blinked, trying to adjust his eyesight while the slamming of fists into metal echoed behind him. The Sons would be on him any minute.
Seth rushed into the parking lot, finding his Jaguar parked in the second row. He lowered Natti gently into the passenger seat, and then jumped into the driver’s side. The key sat ready in the ignition. Without a moment’s hesitation, he turned the engine over just when the priests burst through the main entrance of the building. They shouted for him stop. Ignoring them, Seth engaged the clutch, threw the car into gear, and skidded onto Amon Street. Another car honked and swerved, just missing them.
“What about my father?” Natti asked, hysterically. “Where’s my father?”
“He’ll be fine, Natti. We, on the other hand, have to get out of here.”
“But where will we go?” Her blurry eyes turned to him.
Seth thought, unsure himself. He brushed his fingers over her forehead, which burned with fever. His panic started to build inside, yet he suppressed it. He had to stay focused.
“Rest,” he told her, adding some charm to his voice. “You’re tired and need to sleep.”
Under the enslavement spell, Natti couldn’t refuse his command. Her eyes slowly drifted, and she fell into a peaceful slumber. Seth stroked his thumb along her neck before taking the wheel again. He shifted gears, floored the accelerator, and turned the car in the first direction he could think of. North.