“Amon?”
“Yes, Lily?” he said as he took my hand to help me down a series of stone steps.
“Why is it that the shabtis can zoom off in a cloud of smoke and find your canopic jars and you can’t?”
He gave me a sidelong glance. “It would drain my power and then I would need to replenish it with your energy. I have used too much already.”
“Don’t the shabtis draw on your energy?”
Amon shook his head. “They have stores in reserve, and when that is used up, they will return to where they came from.”
“So they’re running on batteries?”
“I do not understand ‘batteries.’ ”
“Never mind. It’s just that it seems a little cruel to summon them, use them up, and then throw them away. Even if I don’t like them very much.”
“I do not throw them away. They simply return to the state they were in before. It is the way of things.”
“Sometimes it’s okay to question the way of things, you know.”
Amon grunted noncommittally and then raised his head and inhaled a deep breath. “Something is wrong,” he murmured, and his eyes snapped wide open. “Lily, run.”
“What?”
“Run!” he shouted as he twisted to look at the top of the steps.
There was no visible end to the stairs, yet Amon rushed down them headlong, pushing me ahead faster than I thought possible. I heard nothing, but Amon seemed sure that something was coming, and I knew it would behoove me to trust him. I rushed down the steps as best I could but frequently lost my footing, sliding on the sand-covered stone.
Amon glanced behind us again, continuing to press me ahead. He followed close on my heels, and then I heard it, a soft gurgle, like running water.
Risking a glance back, I saw a viscous flood making its way down the stairs. Popping and hissing noises filled the cavern and I realized that the color of the fluid was not natural. Whatever it was, it wasn’t water. It was much thicker, and its hue was suspiciously similar to that of the shorter shabti’s trail of light. When the fluid got close enough to come into contact with Amon’s heels, he howled and scooped me into his arms.
Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my body against his as he leapt from the steps toward a ledge that was entirely too far for a human to navigate. But just as I feared we’d fall to our deaths, he summoned a wind that blew us the rest of the way.
Amon landed, but the wind, still blowing powerfully, propelled us toward a rocky obstruction. Spinning his body at the last minute, Amon smacked into the cavern wall, taking the brunt of the collision on his side and back and protecting me from the impact.
Still cradling me in his arms, Amon slowly slid down the wall groaning in pain. I ran my hand over his bruised shoulder.
“Is it bad?” I asked.
Amon shook his head. “I will endure it.”
Though I didn’t ask if he needed energy to heal, he seemed to read my thoughts and touched his glowing fingers to a lock of hair on my cheek. In my peripheral vision I could see the change to my hair’s color. For a moment, the lock glowed like Amon’s skin. When he let go, it fell to my shoulder, a sparkling blond that faded to a sunshiny gold.
He asked if I was okay and I nodded, but he continued to fix his glowing hazel eyes on me, presumably to discern whether I was being truthful. The palpable heat that always existed between us was intensifying, and I became very aware that I was sitting in Amon’s lap, hands wrapped around his neck, my body pressed against his. I had no intention of moving.
Nothing I was doing was even remotely Lilliana-like. Lilliana didn’t fawn over boys, especially ones who seemed to only want to use her only for her parts, and not even in a normal-boy way. Lilliana was not a thrill seeker by any stretch of the imagination. And Lilliana definitely did not leap before she looked. It felt like another girl—let’s call her Lily—had taken over my body, and her life was so much more exciting than mine. I liked seeing the world through her eyes, but it scared me at the same time. Lily survived ancient booby traps. Lily simply shrugged when impossible things happened. Lily aspired to be in a relationship with a boy who was not only unacceptable but who also came with his own mummy wrappings.
I mean, realistically, what was I expecting here? A sarcophagus built for two?
Still, there was one thing about this new version of myself that I really liked. Lily was brave—much, much braver than Lilliana had ever been. Lily would never let someone else decide her fate. Lily took her destiny into her own hands.
Amon held me loosely and cocked his head as he watched me, probably trying to figure out what was going on in my mind. It was confusing for me, which meant it would likely be next to impossible for him to sort through. The thought occurred to me then, that if I, Lilliana Young—no, scratch that, Lily Young—was brave enough to risk my life helping a sun god, then I was brave enough to make the first move, despite all the looming questions and unknown future possibilities that came along with it.
Sliding my hands into his gleaming hair, careful not to put pressure on any injuries, I stretched up to kiss Amon. But my lips never made it to his. Opening my eyes, I saw him leaning far away from me with a look of horror on his face.
“Lily, what are you doing?” he asked, though it should have been very obvious.
I stammered, “M-making the first move. I thought maybe you were afraid to.”
Gripping my shoulders, Amon held me still as he scrambled away. He moved so quickly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he used the wind to help him in his getaway.
Turning his back to me, Amon took a deep breath and said, “You must not continue to pursue this…this type of attachment.”
“I don’t understand. You wanted to kiss me, I could feel it.”
Amon’s frame stiffened. “You were mistaken,” he said, and grimaced as if his shoulder was killing him.
“I don’t think so.”
“I have no interest in pursuing a relationship with you. The very idea is”—Amon had turned, fixing a steely gaze on me, but then he looked away—“odorous.”
“Wait a minute. Are you saying I smell? As in stink?”
He sighed. “That is not what I mean. Can you smell that?”
I rose and took a step closer to the ledge, lifting my nose to sniff the air. I began to cough violently. “What is it?” I asked.
“A side effect, I believe, from the caustic substance on the steps.”
We were soon encompassed by clouds of noxious fumes that made our eyes water. I was pretty sure that whatever gas was filling the cavern was eradicating the oxygen as well, since I was having trouble breathing. Either that, or I was allergic to the toxic rejection I’d just received. Maybe it was a combination of the two.
Thankfully, Amon was able to summon a wind to blow the vile vapors away from our little ledge. When we could breathe again, Amon noticed his shoes steaming. When he tried to remove one, he snatched his hand away. The residue had a soft reddish glow. I crouched down next to him and took his hand in mine, examining the burn on his finger.
Taking a water bottle, I poured a good amount over the burn and then used my T-shirt to dry it. An awkwardness had grown between us and I couldn’t seem to look Amon in the eye.
He sighed. “Hakenew,” he said, and stretched his other hand out to cup my chin. He lifted it and waited for my eyes to meet his. “For seeing to my injury.”
“Welcome,” I whispered.
“I am sorry to disappoint you, Nehabet,” Amon continued. “It is not that I…” He paused, then tried again. “If I could explain…” Finally, he finished with, “You are not…undesirable.”
The fact that he was admitting something pleased me more than I expected. Before he could do anything to stop me, I pressed my lips against the burn on his finger. “There. All better.”
Amon’s hazel eyes were fixed on my lips. I drew closer and this time he didn’t move away.
I stopped a breath away from his li
ps. “So much for your not wanting to kiss me. Explanation,” I murmured.
Amon blinked, turned his head, and uttered, “Hehsy wehnsesh ef sah.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“ ‘Son of a stunted jackal’ would be the closest translation.”
“Ah. Someday you’ll have to give me a lesson on ancient Egyptian profanity. Hanging out with you, I can see where it might come in handy.”
Twitching his fingers, Amon sandblasted whatever substance was coating his shoes until the steaming stopped and he could touch it without getting burned. “We will not talk of this now,” he warned.
I stood and put my hands on my hips. “Fine. Just so long as you admit that you know what I know, that you feel.”
Amon rolled easily to his feet. “Only a sorceress could speak volumes such as that and still say nothing.”
“I’ll ignore that for now, seeing as how you have an injury on your finger of such magnitude as to be of great distraction.”
Amon narrowed his eyes. “You are indeed a witch.”
I gave him a Cheshire-cat smile. “Speaking of magic, what are we going to do about you-know-who, our little stone tormentor?”
“I will send him back from whence he came,” Amon declared.
“We’re going to have to catch him first.”
“Yes.”
Amon stood on the edge of our little ledge looking out at the sea of red slime that coated pretty much everything below. He sighed, seeming to come to a decision. “Lily, it is too dangerous to continue our course when the path has been sabotaged.”
“I agree.”
“The only thing I can think to do is to take us directly to him.”
Dusting my hands, I shouldered my bag. “Then let’s go.”
“But to do so, I must use your energy again. It will weaken you.”
“Well, I’ll recover, right?”
“Not completely. I have already borrowed your energy several times today. You do not notice the drain unless I use a great deal of power, but I have already depleted your stores significantly.”
“By ‘not completely,’ I’m assuming you mean not today?”
Amon made a face. “The longer we are connected—”
“I know. I know. Risking my innards, blah blah blah,” I interrupted. “So let’s do what we need to do to get me a good meal and let me sleep it off. I’ll be right as rain tomorrow.”
Amon frowned and didn’t seem to appreciate my blasé approach to the whole thing, but both of us knew he pretty much didn’t have a choice. Narrowing his eyes, Amon took my hand and pulled me close, then placed his hands on my cheeks. His gleaming eyes shone with conviction as he said, “I promise you, Lily, I will fix all of this.”
“All of what?” I questioned, wrinkling my nose and enjoying the warmth of his hands as it seeped into my cheeks. Raising his head, Amon cried out in Egyptian, and I screamed in pain as the sand began to swirl around us.
A thousand needles pierced me. This time, as the sandstorm ripped my body apart, I was fairly certain that nothing could put me back together again.
But, as before, I was remade. Knit together with knives. I was sure there was not one part of me that wasn’t throbbing. We’d materialized in a dark cave. Amon had doused his light, and I could make out nothing but his eerie glowing eyes.
He whispered, “Can you stand?”
Unable to trust myself to speak without whimpering, I nodded and took a step away from him. His arms trembled as he held me, and I remembered then that he was suffering alongside me. When he was satisfied that I could stand on my own, he said, “Rest here. The errant shabti is in the next cavern.” He took my hand and pointed toward the right. “Can you see it?”
My eyes adjusted, and I saw a faint, unsteady light outlining the dark edges of the opening. “Yes.”
“Stay hidden behind this boulder. I will return for you when I have completed the spell to send him back to the afterlife.”
“Okay.” Amon started to move away, but I caught his hand. “Amon?”
“Yes, Lily?”
Standing on tiptoes, I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Be careful.”
He put his arms around my waist and squeezed. Some of his energy seeped back into me then, steadying me and keeping nausea at bay. Then he moved away. I could just make out his form as he disappeared through the antechamber opening. My body trembled, feeling the absence of his steadying arms.
Sweat trickled down my temples as I hid, and I wondered if Amon’s cooling kiss on my throat had worn off. The idea that I’d soon need another wasn’t an unpleasant notion, and I distracted myself from the pain by imagining just how I’d ask him. Just then I heard the sound of pottery breaking and Amon’s cry.
I didn’t know how to help him, but I knew I needed to try. On shaky legs, I quietly moved to the opening and peered inside. The sounds of a struggle were obvious, though the two men fought in utter darkness. Suddenly, the sound of clashing swords filled the air. I was able to make out a red streak of light circling a dark form, and when the green glow of the form’s eyes confirmed it was Amon, I crept closer.
Spotting me with his night vision, Amon called out as he grappled with his enemy, “Save the jars, Lily!”
“Where?” I cried. “Where are they?”
“On the right wall!”
Blindly, I stuck out my hands and carefully made my way to my right until I came in contact with a gritty wall. A swirl of fresh air hit me, and I sensed that we were in a much larger space than I had originally thought. If this was where Amon’s jars were, then it was likely that his body had been discovered here as well. Which meant there was an opening somewhere that led aboveground, although it was too dark to make anything out.
I felt my way along the wall. As I progressed, I heard Amon chanting spells, which seemed to be having no effect on the shabti servant. From the sound of things, the servant was stronger than Amon, which made no sense. Amon was powerfully built, even without his sun god attributes, while the shabti was small and round, surely no match for Amon.
Something was very wrong.
I progressed farther and was finally rewarded with a hollowed-out place in the wall, a partially unearthed rough rectangle about one foot wide and two feet high. Stumbling over a mound of dirt, I heard a crack as my boot crushed something tiny and fragile.
“Hope that wasn’t a priceless artifact,” I murmured as I fumbled in the darkness.
Desperately banishing the thought of hairy spiders and stinging scorpions, I gingerly reached my hand inside the hollow and scooped out handfuls of loose earth until my fingertips brushed against a smooth piece of pottery. Madly, I scooped dirt from around the object, unearthing it from its resting place like a sloppy paleontology student would a bone. Despite my frenzy, I was trying to be careful. Finally, it came free in my hands.
By tracing the shape, I was able to visualize the piece. The base was full and round like a bowling pin and tapered up to a neck small enough for me to wrap my hands around but big enough to accommodate something substantial, like—I wrinkled my nose—organs, for example. At the top, capping the object, was a rough-carved piece of wood, rounded with a sharp point.
“I found one!” I called out to Amon. “What should I do?”
I heard a grunt as Amon wrestled with the wiry shabti. “Open it!”
Cradling the jar in my arms, I gripped the top and pulled. It wouldn’t budge. “Can’t I just crack it against a rock?”
“No! You must not break it!” Amon called, the words rushing out along with his breath as he was slammed against a wall. The fighting stirred up the soft dust, and I sneezed several times. The final sneeze was so violent that as I twisted the top of the jar, it finally loosened.
With a triumphant cry, I wrenched the top from the jar. It made a popping noise, like a cork being pulled from a bottle. Light filled the container, and despite the fact that I definitely didn’t want to see Amon’s thousand-year-old organs, I peered insi
de.
Floating particles as tiny as grains of sand moved within and coalesced until they formed a light bright enough that I had to look away. Slowly, the golden light rose up and out of the container, where it stretched until two wings became visible.
The light began to look like some kind of bird, and when the head and beak solidified, it cried out, the same cry I’d heard in my dream. It was a falcon—a beautiful golden creature that gleamed as if it harnessed the rays of the sun.
The wings flapped, and the falcon made of light circled my head and flew higher and higher. Obviously, the room was much larger than I had imagined. As the falcon passed the two men in combat, Amon and the shabti became visible.
Amon had created a sand weapon—a sword—and he used it to cut the servant, but though the shabti staggered back with a wound on his forearm dripping blood, the injury glowed with a reddish hue and then disappeared.
It appeared that the shabti was using the red light to injure Amon, and I realized then that the servant had created two swords made of the red light, which clanged against Amon’s smaller weapon again and again. Each volley seemed to weaken Amon, and I couldn’t understand why.
The golden bird passed over me as Amon began to chant, weaving a spell that the falcon responded to. His ringing voice echoed off the walls of the cavern.
I call upon the falcon, born in the golden fires of the sun.
He who has slumbered is to be reborn this day.
Lend your whole, living soul to the one rent in pieces.
Offer your resilient wings, your piercing talons, and your discerning eye.
Your home has stretched to the far edge of heaven,
But today, you will find haven in my beating heart.
Together we are reborn, renewed, and rejuvenated.
Your offering will be recorded in the annals of time and your service rewarded.
Come! Come to me and be remade!
The bird cried, flying toward Amon just as the shabti stripped him of his sword. Amon threw back his head and lifted his arms, and his whole body lit up from within. I could now see everything inside the antechamber and several things immediately became obvious.