“Yes, Mas…I mean, Amon.”
“Very good.” Amon graced the man with a smile, and I couldn’t help but marvel at the hero worship Dr. Hassan was displaying. I glanced at Amon; though he seemed to handle his role of a god who walks among men like it was old hat, I could tell that he was uncomfortable. I wondered if he had always felt like that, or if it was somehow different now.
Sebak crested the dune before we could speak further, and Amon took the arm of Dr. Hassan. He whispered, “Where can we meet with you…alone?”
Dr. Hassan reached into one of his cargo vest pockets and withdrew a business card, flipping it over so he could write on the back.
“Here.” He thrust the card and a set of keys into Amon’s hands. “This is my address in the city. I will be there as soon as I can. But please, go and rest there as long as you like. I have no family, so you will not be bothered. Help yourself to anything you need.”
Nodding, Amon slipped the card and keys in a pocket, waved at Sebak as if nothing was going on, and took my arm purposefully, quickly guiding me away. When we rounded a mountain of sand, I asked quietly, “How did you know?”
“That he was the grand vizier? I knew it from the moment he approached us in the temple.”
“But how?”
“I was unable to control his mind.”
“I wasn’t aware you were trying.”
“Yes. At first I was grateful for his help, but then when I knew you were recovering, I tried to make our escape. He would not hear of it, though I insisted as stridently as I was able.”
“So you knew what he was talking about? You understood all that stuff about Hatshepsut?”
“Do you remember when I told you that we once were honored with feasting and song on the day we awoke?”
“Of course. Wait a minute, do you mean these are the guys who do that?” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder, indicating the men we’d left behind.
Amon nodded. “As far as I know, the Order of the Sphinx is new, but the chief priests, including the grand vizier, have been around for centuries. When I was a prince, our royal family had a vizier. His job was to serve the king. When Anubis took my brothers and me, my father charged the vizier with watching over us, or rather, over our tombs, and a vizier has always done so, no matter what century. The vizier has always been immune to mind control. It was a blessing given by Anubis. For what purpose, I know not.”
“Then if you knew who they were, why didn’t you want them to know who you are?”
We reached the tourist section as Amon was pondering my question. Not even using his hypno-power, Amon politely asked a man on the street, “Where can we find a taxi?” Not golden chariot but taxi. Amon was picking up life in the modern world very quickly.
The man pointed toward a small square.
“I have learned to be more careful from watching you,” Amon finally answered. “No matter his title, it is not wise to simply trust that a person is honest and forthright. The devious shabti was a surprising example of the need to hide our identity. We must be exceedingly cautious. Especially where you are concerned.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? And while I’m thinking of it, why are we taking a taxi?”
“Though I care little for my own life, I will not risk yours. You say you are recovered, and yet I can sense the trauma I have caused. You need time to heal. Besides, manipulating a driver is far easier than traveling by sand. It was my fault that you were exposed to the toxin in the first place, and I will not test you further today.”
“Your fault?”
“When I confronted the shabti, he blew the red dust hoping to disable me, but it did not work. My body cannot be poisoned.”
“But mine can.”
“Yes. I am sorry, Nehabet. I wrongly assumed your body would be resistant as well since we are tied together, but sadly this was not the case. To err in judgment once regarding the shabti could have been devastating, but to err twice in assuming you were safe shows a lack of clear thinking on my part. Being close to you has…distracted me. I assure you that I will make no such mistake again.”
“They say to err is human, Amon. A mistake or two just means you’re like us mortals.”
Amon looked away. “The desire of my heart is for that to be true, but alas, it is not. I am not like a mortal man, Lily, however I wish it to be the case.” Turning to me, he lifted his fingers and grazed my cheek. “Please believe I would not have put you in harm’s way had I known.”
“It’s okay. I believe you.”
Sighing deeply, Amon grasped my hand. Sensing the blame he was feeling, I tried to distract him. “Thank you, by the way, for saving me. I know it was you who kept me going. I fell asleep faster than Dorothy in the poppy fields.”
“The toxin was not a simple sleeping potion,” Amon corrected. “A little shuts down your body as if you are in a deep sleep, one that closely resembles death. If you breathe it in too deeply, are exposed to it for a lengthy time, or it seeps through a cut in your skin, it can kill you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I had to suck the poison from your body and take it into my own. I suspect this is one reason Dr. Hassan assumed I was more than a mere mortal. He knew what the toxin was, and was very careful not to come into contact with it. He used gloves to wipe it away from your skin, and then he disposed of the gloves. When he wasn’t looking I was able to remove the residual traces from your hair and clothing.”
“He knew? But he said—”
“That you would awaken.”
“Was he confident that I hadn’t inhaled too much, or did his trust reside in you?”
“Perhaps it was a combination of both.”
“So he risked not sending me to the hospital to test his theory that you were going to save my life?”
“It would seem so.”
“He’s a zealot, all right,” I murmured as a taxi pulled up. “Lucky for me his theory panned out.” Amon passed the driver Dr. Hassan’s card and spoke to him briefly before finally settling back next to me.
“What was that about?”
“Just gleaning some useful information.” He turned to look directly in my eyes. “My intention is for you to relax for the remainder of the day.”
“Um, okay. And what exactly did you have in mind?” I asked.
Amon frowned. “I think it would be best to hire some women to tend to your bathing.”
Shrugging, I picked up his hand and stroked the back of it. “Too bad. It would be fun to be waited on by my own personal sun god.”
Amon’s eyes narrowed as he gently pulled his hand from my grip. “I am not a sun god, I am a—”
“I know, I know. Would it kill you to humor me once in a while?” I sighed. “A bath does sound good but I assure you, I’m completely capable of bathing sans servants. Sorry you have to be in such close proximity to my odorous self.”
He was quiet for a moment and I thought he’d drifted off, but then, in a soft voice, he said, “The truth is, if I could bottle your water-lily scent and carry it with me as I wandered the desert, even if I was sick from the sun and dying from thirst, only to be saved by a desert sheikh who wished to barter for it, and even should the trading of it save my life, I would not part with it for all the jewels, silks, and precious riches of Egypt and all the lands surrounding it. So to say your scent is pleasant to me is an understatement most villainous.”
The emotions I sensed coming from him were confusing. Regret mixed with a deep-seated yearning was paired with frustration. I couldn’t even form a response to a statement as touching as his. Men didn’t talk like that. Not real, flesh-and-blood men, anyway.
What he’d just said to me was swashbuckling-guy-gets-the-girl, ride-off-into-the-sunset-together level of charm. I didn’t think it was possible for him to actually mean what he said.
“Where’d you get that one? Off the inside of a sarcophagus?”
Amon shrugged but wouldn’t look at me. “Those feelings are the truth,”
he finally admitted.
I studied his face, but there was not even a hint of humor in his expression.
“Oh,” I said lamely. “Well, thank you.”
Amon grunted, leaning back against the seat as he closed his eyes. Before too long the driver pulled over and pointed to a nice stucco house. We got out, and Amon’s fingers clung to mine as he leaned in the window to talk with the taxi driver. Because Amon seemed to be taking his time conversing, I wriggled my fingers out of his and pried the keys from his other hand. He gave me a brief look that said Don’t wander too far and turned back to his conversation.
I walked up the short drive to the house, grateful for the trees shading the path. The large sycamores provided a respite not only from the heat but also from the glare of the sun. Osahar Hassan’s home was a small two-story, each floor with an overhang of interlocking red tiles.
Finding the right key, I unlocked the door and stepped inside. Despite the many large windows, the sun wasn’t too intense, so the house wasn’t too hot. Upon closer inspection, I saw that the windows were covered with a dark film that probably deflected the sun’s rays.
Though the outside of the home appeared clean and pristine, all boxy lines and sun-swept tile, the interior was completely different. Every surface was cluttered with Egyptian treasures, from crackling parchment covered in colorful brushstrokes to large carvings. The knickknacks and collectibles were scattered haphazardly, with no design aesthetic whatsoever, and most of them needed a serious dusting. I wasn’t able to tell if they were replicas or the real thing, but I suspected that a man given the responsibility of grand vizier over a centuries-old group of priests might have access to things others did not.
I was crouching, studying a gorgeous cat statue, when Amon came up behind me. He hadn’t made any noise, but by now I was so attuned to him, I could feel his presence. I sensed his warmth as if the sun were at my back. Amon knelt next to me and ran a hand over the head of the cat. “Cats are revered in Egypt,” he said. “Some were even trained to go on the hunt with their masters, capturing birds or fish. When a beloved feline died, the owners typically shaved their eyebrows in mourning.”
“Interesting,” I murmured, now more focused on the man beside me than on the statue.
“Yes. When the eyebrows grew back, the time of mourning was considered over.”
“So seeing as how you are a bird now, are you a cat lover or a cat hater?” I asked, standing up at the same time as Amon.
“I am neither, I suppose.”
Boldly, I reached up to trace one of his eyebrows. “Have you ever loved something enough to shave your brows in mourning?”
Amon captured my wrist and, gently lowering my arm, replied softly, “To come to love something that much would seem a cruel twist of fate for one who spends much of his existence in the Land of the Dead.”
“I guess that would be true.” Uncomfortable, I stood and walked the length of the shelf as if examining the artifacts, when instead I was contemplating Amon’s very strange life. “Where do you go?” I asked quietly. “When you aren’t here on Earth, I mean?”
Amon sighed. “It is best not to speak of it, Lily.”
“But I need to understand. I need to know why you make all these sacrifices. I need to know if you’re—”
“If I am what?”
“If you’re happy there.”
Rubbing his hand through his hair and cupping the back of his neck, Amon answered, “I am not…unhappy.”
“That’s pretty vague.”
“The explanation is difficult.”
“Please try.”
After thinking for a moment, Amon began. “When my everlasting body becomes a…mummy, my ka, or soul, departs and must walk the path of the afterlife. My heart is not weighed on the scales of judgment like those who have gone before me because my stay in the afterlife is not permanent. Not yet. Though it is lonely, I drift through the centuries in relative comfort.”
“What do you mean, ‘relative’?”
“I am allowed to spend time with my brothers, but because we are bound to the service of Egypt, we are not given leave to retrieve our bodies and reunite with our loved ones. Instead, we pass the years acting as guardians to the gates of the afterlife.”
“So there isn’t an Egyptian version of heaven you go to?”
“I do not understand ‘heaven.’ ”
“Like a paradise—a place where you can kick your feet up and relax and enjoy your death?”
“No. Not for my brothers and me. Perhaps, one day, when our work is completed, we might be able to rest from our labors.”
“You sure got the short end of the stick when they were handing out pseudo-Egyptian-god duties. Isn’t there any room for love in Egyptian heaven?”
“I love my brothers.”
“That isn’t the kind I’m talking about.”
Amon remained quiet for a moment, and I wondered if he was even going to answer me, when he picked up a small carving and twisted it between his hands. “Do you know the story of Geb and Nut?” he asked.
“No.”
“Geb was god of Earth and Nut was goddess of the sky. Rough and thick-muscled, Geb was immovable and steady, like Earth itself. Nut was lithe and beautiful. Stars and constellations adorned her skin, and her hair floated about her form.
“When they saw one another, they fell deeply in love, and Geb was determined that they be together. Nut whispered her vows and sent them to Geb on the tails of comets. In reply, Geb stretched out his arms as far as they would go and finally grasped her fingers. Using his powerful form, Geb called upon Earth’s gravity, and slowly, the two came together, though they knew their love was forbidden.”
“Why was it forbidden?”
“That part comes later. Though I know you have as many questions as the stars, try to content yourself to listen till the end.”
I smirked. “You know me so well.”
“Yes. I do.”
“I’ll try. But I make no promises.”
Amon nodded, hazel eyes twinkling, and continued. “Once they were able to touch, they remained as close as any two things could be. Geb wrapped his arms around the willowy form of his secret wife and drew her to him. When he raised his knees, mountains formed, and Nut ringed them with the clouds of her dress.
“Geb lifted himself up on one elbow, and Nut rested her head against his chest, creating fog-shrouded hills and valleys. When they laughed, the land trembled and the sky thundered. They fit together so tightly, in fact, it soon became obvious that there was no room for mankind. To make a place for humans, Nut’s father, Shu, god of the air, was sent to separate the couple.”
“What happened?”
“Chaos. The two clung to one another, but Shu was powerful and drove them apart bit by bit. He sent cyclones and whirlwinds between them. The Earth shook and the heavens quaked and then, finally, it was done. Nut was wrenched from Geb’s heavy arms. Geb could see his wife floating far above him, but he could no longer touch her.
“Nut cried bitterly, and her tears turned into storms and heavy rains that fell upon the flesh of her husband. Pooling in the recesses of his body, the salty tears became oceans, rivers, and lakes. The waves blanketed the man she loved, but he relished having even that little piece of her and willingly allowed a portion of himself to sink beneath them forever.
“This is why water in Egypt is considered the source of chaos as well as creation—chaos because it is a sign of a love destroyed, and creation because it was the symbol of the beginning of mankind’s reign on Earth. Water unmakes and then creates anew.”
“Were they never able to touch again?”
“Over the aeons, Shu’s heart softened toward the couple, and they were allowed to touch at the four points of the compass. In the south and the west, their feet brush against one another, and in the north and the east, they thread their fingers together. But other than that, they are never to be together again. If they were, it would mean the destruction of li
fe as we know it.”
“I don’t believe that.”
Amon shrugged. “It is a story shared by my people.”
“No, I don’t mean that. I mean that I don’t believe that doing your job, fulfilling your purpose in life, means there is no hope for happiness. No one, no god, could be that cruel.”
Amon set down the little statue, which I now recognized as the god of Earth, Geb, beneath his wife, Nut, who rose above him. The space between their bodies was wide and cold. “Sacrifices must be made so that others may find happiness,” Amon replied quietly.
Taking a step toward him, I reached up to brush my hand against his cheek. “But you deserve to have that kind of joy in your life, too.”
Amon wrapped his fingers around my hand and drew it to his lips, pressing a warm kiss against my wrist. “There are many men who do not attain the things they want while in their mortal existence, many who do not get the things they deserve. Who am I to count myself as more worthy than they? If I reached out to grab the happiness you speak of, how many would suffer as a result? How many would die? How many would dwindle in pain and agony? I cannot be that selfish, Lily, no matter how much I might want to.”
Amon’s eyes, more tawny now than green, bored into mine as if begging me to understand. He wanted me to accept his ancient notions of duty and obligation and let it go, but I was a modern girl, which meant I wasn’t going to sit like a princess who needed saving and pine for something I wanted. If there was one thing I knew about love, it was that it was worth fighting for, even if I had to pick up a sword to protect it. The miracle of finding love, real love, was a rare enough thing that it should give duty and obligation a run for their money.
Frustrated, I wrenched my hand from Amon’s. “I don’t get it. I mean, Geb and Nut, okay. Their being together physically crushes everybody, so I guess they can’t be together, but you? What are they going to do? Fire you? Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe it’s time someone else did the saving-mankind thing for a while. You served long enough. It’s time to jump off the mummy train and live for a change, don’t you think?”
“Lily, I—”
“Just…think about it. I’m going to take a quick shower, and then maybe we can get some food. We’ll feast?”