They stormed into her house like a veritable hurricane.

Her father rounded the sectional in the livingroom, and promptly pulled it away from the wall. There was an invisible seam running down the wall, hiding a weapons cache within, accessible once the couch was no longer in the way. Rick wouldn't let her live alone, unless he got to install it.

Ardeth and her father went through the weapons with a swift efficiency, borne from personal experience. There were three piles making a home on her couch; weapons they could use, weapons the kids could use, and weapons to not be used under any circumstance. Unless, of course, the world was ending.

Evy sat, huddled in a chair in the dining-room, an ice pack held to the back of her head. She'd woken up on the ride home with a minor headache, and possibly a concussion. Alex hovered over her, wanting to do something, but unsure of himself. His eyes shifted every few seconds, paranoia keeping him company.

Every once in awhile, Ardeth would glance over at Everly, like she was so fragile a gust of wind might blow her away. She wanted to snort at the mere thought. Her? A delicate flower? She had been the only one standing between her father and his–almost certain–death. She wasn't one for wilting.

She took the stairs two at a time, needing the solitude of her bedroom, if only for a few seconds. As she shut the door behind her, she sagged against it with a heavy sigh. Before she could freak herself out, she bee-lined to her closet. If things were going to get messy, she wanted to be wearing a pair of trousers.

Warmth settled upon her shoulders and the tension holding her up, loosened. Everly took strength from the Goddess, changing into a pair of tight pants and a moderately loose tank. She'd need the maneuverability both items allowed her, if things devolved into a fight.

Lacing up her boots, she made her way back downstairs. She landed in the livingroom, just as she finished pulling her hair into a ponytail.

"So, what's the plan?" She inquired.

Ardeth turned to address her, but Rick interjected. "Your mother and I were planning a trip to Paris, but now we're thinking you and Alex should use our tickets. We'll handle things on our end."

What?!

He didn't even give her a chance to argue, like she would just listen to him when their lives were on the line. They were her family! How he could even think she would abandon them when they needed all the help they could get.

She opened her mouth, probably to scream at him, but the hair on the back of her neck rose. Everly felt the magic in the air, how could she not? Magic stained everything it touched, and Isis had left her painted in it.

Everly locked eyes with her mother, and she knew. "Imhotep."

Rick gave a sadistic grin, pulling out a gun that had more mechanics attached to it than anything she'd ever seen. She really didn't want to know what that could do. Her imagination was vivid enough, thank you.

Ardeth gripped one of her wrists, ushering her out the back with her brother and mother. She tried to yank out of his grasp, but it was like she was wrapped in irons.

"Let me go!" She yelled, startling him enough that he dropped her.

"Now that the creature has risen, your Father and I must search for a way to return him to the Underworld, once more. You cannot be here, Everly." He spoke softly, knowing that a coarse tone wouldn't sit well with her.

Everly shook her head, "I can help. I'm–"

He gripped her waist and lifted her up onto his horse, "Your Mother must alert the rest of the Medjai, then you will do as your Father said, and use the tickets to get you and your brother to safety. Yah!" He slapped the horses rump, sending it into a gallop.

Everly gripped the reins, fighting against the urge to turn back. Evy and Alex ran beside her, grim determination etched onto her mother's face. Her mother would do what Rick said, of that, Everly had no doubt. But, she wasn't such a devout follower.

If they could just reason with Imhotep, maybe things didn't have to be this way.

Biting her lip, she pulled her horse to a stop. "I can't leave." She whispered, the warmth returning, bolstering her courage. "I can't leave."

Evy yanked on the reins to her own steed, cognizant of Alex clinging to her back like a baby monkey. "Everly, what are you doing?" She pleaded.

There was a desperation to her tone that she had never heard before, but Everly didn't have time to explain. Shots rang out from her house, echoing across the vast expanse of desert.

"No." She breathed.

Evy screamed for her as Everly turned her horse around as fast as she could. Sand kicked up behind them, feet soaring over the desert floor.

Pleasebeokaypleasebeokaypleasebeokay..

She prayed to any Deity above, that no one would be injured by the time she returned. This was a misunderstanding, but she could fix it. She could fix it.

Everly leapt over the side of the horse before it came to a stop. She rushed to the front of the house without a second thought, calling on the magic that Isis had deigned to gift her with.

Pleaseworkpleaseworkpleasework..

She didn't even notice the tears that tracked down her face. She was too numbed by the emotions roiling around within her.

As she rounded the corner of the house, she threw her hands up and summoned forth a wall of sand to separate them. She'd never used her magic before, content to play as a normal girl. She should've known better than to play house, even if they were her family.

The exertion caused her arms to tremble, the longer she held the wall. There was a wetness dripping from her nose; she licked her lips, and copper coated her tongue. She wouldn't be able to hold it for long, but maybe just long enough.

"This has to stop," She whispered, but Rick was already screaming at her.

It's too much, and not enough, at the same time. There's noisesmelltaste, running rampant through her now that she'd opened herself up. She's struggling to hold herself upright, the darkness called, beckoning.

Ardeth's looking at her like he's seeing a Goddess in the flesh. Eyes wide and worshipful, he dropped to his knees. Prayers whispered across his lips, but her attention was pulled to Imhotep before she could even begin to understand his words.

He's already staring at her as though she holds the answer to all his questions, which was hilarious. She didn't even have the answers to her own questions. Everly collapsed to her knees, unable to hold her own weight, anymore.

The sand falls.

There's a tense silence, but she's more important than any feud they had between them. They come to a silent truce, held together by a thread, and a girl.

Rick approached her with purpose, but for reasons unknown, Imhotep beats him to her side. He reached a hand out, hesitating, before cupping her jaw and wiping the blood from her face. He stared at her, like he's trying to memorize her, commit her to memory so deeply that eternity in the Underworld would never be able to burn her from his mind.

There's a curious look in his eyes, but her vision was already fuzzy, and she wouldn't be awake much longer. Not that she really was, anyway. Her thoughts were far away, floating on a breeze that never rested. They dare not slow, and she couldn't quite catch them, now.

When she goes limp, Imhotep lifted her as easily as he handled the desert sands. Her family crowded him, but he doesn't let that bother him as he leads them inside her house.

He doesn't know where to set her, until her father gestured towards the brown, very long, seat. Carefully, he placed her on the sofa, using his magic to wash away the dirt and grime she'd accumulated. Stepping back, he edged along the threshold of the room, allowing her family to check on her as he stood, a silent guardian. This was where his God bid him, this was where he would stay, unless the Priestess ordered him, begone.

The Medjai entered the house minutes after everyone was seated. The look in his eyes as he gazed upon the Priestess had Imhotep's hackles rising.

They talk about him, right in front of him, not that he could understand. Their language is a foreign one, with harsh vocalizations that didn't roll off the tongue as easily as Ancient Egyptian. They gesture at him, scowls on their faces, but he doesn't bother to intrude.

Their opinion meant nothing to him.

He'd wait until the Priestess awoke, and would be hard-pressed to be removed from his spot in her livingroom, before then.