“Of course, Lily,” Amon replied.
As I climbed the stairs, I felt the stress of the past few days flood over me. I did need to relax. I was wiped out. The fact that I was getting so emotional again was a sign that I was not feeling like myself, which had been true from the moment I first met Amon, but right then, I felt even worse.
To my delight, I found perfumed oil in the bathroom. When I rubbed it into my skin, the smell of soft flowers and sweet musk surrounded me. The scent was exotic, with a hint of citrus, delicate and subtle, an aroma far preferable to the sweat and dust I’d gotten used to. While wiping steam from the mirror after my shower, I thought about Amon.
He had become important to me. At first, it had been a mixture of curiosity and fascination that led me to follow him on his adventure, but now that I’d spent more time with him, I realized it wasn’t just fascination. I wasn’t doing all of this for the adventure or the thrills anymore. I cared about him.
As crazy as it was, I was falling for a guy as old as the desert. One who could turn into a falcon at will. A man who could twist sand into any form he chose. A handsome stranger who had seemingly zero interest in love and who put his own needs after everyone else’s.
I identified with that. How many times had I gone along with what my parents wanted even though I had no interest in whatever they were doing? How many empty relationships had I fostered with people who didn’t care a whit about me? How much longer was I going to deny myself what I really wanted?
I found Amon sitting listlessly at the kitchen table, an empty plate before him. Surrounding him were mountains of takeout containers. The spicy fragrance of meat and vegetables wafted toward me, but I had eyes only for the man with his elbows on the table, hands holding up his head.
Walking up behind him, I touched his shoulder. “What is it?” I asked. “Not hungry?”
Amon covered my hand with his and pulled me around to sit next to him. “How do you feel?” he asked. “Are you refreshed?”
“Yes,” I lied, giving him my best smile.
Cupping my chin, Amon studied my face. “Your skin is pallid and overly warm and you’ve lost flesh.”
“All the girls will want to try the new Egyptian god diet when I get home. ‘You can feast all you want as long as you’re willing to be an organ donor.’ ” I laughed lamely at my own joke, but Amon didn’t even crack a smile.
He let me go and pressed his head between his hands again.
“What’s all this about?” I asked. “Was it the fight with the shabti? Are you still feeling weak?”
“The golden falcon strengthened me, Young Lily. It is not my health you should be concerned with.”
“Then is this because of the other jars? They were all broken, weren’t they?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, so then what’s the next step?”
“There is no next step.”
“Well, we can still find your brothers, right? Everything will be okay, you’ll see. Even without all your powers, I’m sure you can do what you need to.”
“No, Lily, you do not understand. Without my jars, I will continue to drain your energy.”
“So we’ll move faster. You got one jar back, at least. That’s something. We’ll get your brothers as quickly as we can. You can’t give up hope.”
“Hope,” Amon scoffed. “Hope for whom? For what?”
“Hope for a better tomorrow, for both of us. It’s not over till it’s over. Don’t assume this can’t be fixed. Let’s just focus on one thing at a time. We now know that your jars are gone, so let’s worry about your brothers next.”
“My brothers. Perhaps,” Amon murmured. “Perhaps my brothers can help. One of them is a healer.”
“See? There you go. You’re thinking of other possibilities already.”
“The greatest possibility is that I will be the death of you, Young Lily. It would have been better for you had we never met.”
“Hey.” I scooted my chair a little closer to his. “It’s hard to kill a scrappy New Yorker. Didn’t anyone ever tell you that? Besides, if I’d never met you, my life would have been incredibly boring.”
“Better boring than succumbing to everlasting sleep.”
“You sure have a way with words. Everlasting sleep actually sounds pretty good right now.”
“Yes. You should rest. Sleep, Lily. I will awaken you when Dr. Hassan returns.”
“I’ll make a deal with you. I will sleep as long as you feast. All this food and you haven’t touched it, have you?”
“When you are ailing I find I have no appetite.”
“Well, even demigods need sustenance, so eat up. I expect all this to be at least half gone when I return.”
“Very well, Lily. I agree to your terms. I will eat if you will rest.”
“Good. Unless, of course, there’s a chance you want to rest together?” Amon raised an eyebrow, indicating such an idea wasn’t even worth considering. “Ah, well, a girl can try.” I sighed.
“Sleep well, Nehabet.”
“And you eat well, Amon.”
I woke to the feel of his fingers brushing hair from my face.
“Amon?”
“I am here, Lily. Dr. Hassan has come home.”
The room was dark. “Did I really sleep that long?”
“Your body needed to rest.”
Sitting up, I caught a whiff of soap. Amon’s hair was wet and he wore new clothes. More than anything, I wanted to wrap my arms around him, press my lips against his neck, and let his wet hair tickle my cheek, but I knew he wanted to maintain his distance. And even though I fully understood his reasoning, I wasn’t happy about it. I whipped the covers back and took his hand. “Let’s go see him.”
Amon led me to the roof, where we found Dr. Hassan sipping an icy-cold beverage by lantern light. Upon seeing me, he immediately set down his drink.
“There you are, my dear.” Spreading his hands, he indicated the expansive rooftop. “What do you think? My own private temple.”
“You’re missing the pillars,” I answered drily.
“On the contrary. I am charged with the care of the celestial embodiments of the gods. What better way to worship than by creating an outdoor sanctum without a roof so that I might perform my observances directly beneath the sun, moon, and stars? It’s quite beautiful, is it not?”
I had to admit that the night sky was breathtaking. It was easy to see how ancient people could wish to find direction and inspiration from the constellations twinkling overhead.
Dr. Hassan interrupted my thoughts. “Are you quite recovered, young miss?”
“For the most part. But I hear that’s pretty much no thanks to you,” I added, still suspicious and wanting to put him in his place for allowing his zealousness to trump common sense.
Dr. Hassan had the decency to look chagrined. “Yes. Well. I was supremely confident.”
“You risked my life on a theory.”
“But my theory was correct.”
“I could have died.”
“You would have been dead already,” Dr. Hassan professed bluntly.
“What? What do you mean?” I asked, shocked.
Leaning forward, Dr. Hassan clasped his hands and indicated to a chair. “Please. Sit.”
Once Amon and I were settled and Dr. Hassan had set a tray of cold beverages before us, I gave myself a moment to assess him again. I was determined to proceed with caution in trusting him. Though Amon could do many things on his own, I knew that he was also relying on my modern-world smarts, and I didn’t want to let him down.
The air was warm, but the slight breeze carrying the scent of desert rain and night-blooming flowers kept me cool enough that I wasn’t uncomfortable, even with Amon’s warm arm draped across my shoulders—I wasn’t sure if his touch was meant in a romantic way or to comfort me or to just keep tabs on my health, but I’d take it, regardless of the reason. If Dr. Hassan hadn’t been there and our situation hadn’t been urgent, I would’ve e
njoyed having a romantic dinner date on the roof. As it was, I needed to focus on other matters.
“Why don’t you start by telling us how you found us,” I suggested to Dr. Hassan.
“When Dr. Dagher and I came across you, to say we were shocked would be a bit of an understatement. The Great One”—Amon gave Dr. Hassan a look and he changed his word choice midsentence—“Amon,” he said, and I could tell from his expression that saying the name sat wrong with him. “Amon was covered in the dust and yet remained unaffected. His lips were pressed against your neck, a death sentence, since the toxin covered your skin in multiple areas. I knew what it was immediately. The form of dust you came across hasn’t been used for centuries, but there are records of it. That you happened upon it in the Valley of the Kings was incredible to say the least.”
“It sounds like you were more interested in the discovery of the red dust than in getting us the care we needed,” I said.
“Of course I was interested in it. I am an archaeologist. As far as the help you needed, I already knew you were beyond it. I determined that if you weren’t dead already, you would be in mere moments. But then you kept breathing, and Amon finally acknowledged our presence. He was aware of us, though he was completely wrapped up in caring for you.
“I approached the two of you, and since I was no longer holding him back, Dr. Dagher rushed forward and accused Amon of defacing the temple and bringing the substance in with him. I believe Dr. Dagher thought you were drug-crazed. But I have had access to things, to stories, to information that he hasn’t, and so I knew right away about the problem you were dealing with. I will admit that I selfishly kept you in my tent. I could not let Amon leave. Not when I knew, absolutely knew, what…who he was.”
Dr. Hassan glanced at Amon. “The others never believed me, but I had a vision as a young man that I would one day witness your rising. I am the most fortunate of men!” he cried out, the fanatical gleam in his eyes relit.
“Yes. We get it,” I said. “But let’s get back to what happened next and save the worshipping for a more convenient time, shall we? Now, if I understand correctly, you next manipulated Amon into thinking that you were helping him. Is that right?”
“I was. I mean, I am,” Dr. Hassan insisted, and then added, “I mean, I will be.”
“I should think so.” I narrowed my eyes.
“Of course. My entire existence, all of my work, all of my studies, have been focused on this one purpose.”
I stared at the good doctor for a few uncomfortable minutes. He looked right back at me, his face open and innocent. “Fine,” I finally announced. “I’m willing to forgive your duplicity as long as you help us.”
“You may ask anything.”
“Understand that we expect your complete honesty from this time forward. No more manipulation to further your own agenda. Amon’s purpose must remain the priority.”
“Yes, yes. Of course.”
“Okay, so tell us all you know, starting with how Amon ended up in New York.”
“Very well. But you must understand that I have made vows not to share this information with anyone outside of our order.”
“Trust me, I’m in this one for the long haul.”
It irritated me when Dr. Hassan looked to Amon for approval, but Amon smoothed things over by stroking my arm and assuring him, “Lily has given up more for me than any priest or devotee ever could. Our connection is unbreakable. Palm to palm, we risk together, we live together, or we die together. Be satisfied that any knowledge or secrets you choose to share will be safe with her.”
Turning, I looked up at Amon’s face, but his gaze was trained on his servant, who, after removing his hat, immediately knelt at my feet. “Then I would follow every word that is uttered by your lips as well, my lady.”
“Just Lily,” I offered, embarrassed that this man would kneel before me. “Please, just…” I sighed. “Just help us.”
“I will endeavor to do so, Lady Lily.” Dr. Hassan settled back into his seat and adjusted the brim of his hat before he settled it on his head again. His tone was all business. “I do not know how Amon came to be in New York. That is to say, I knew that he had been moved, but I did not know where he had been moved.”
“You’re talking about his original tomb, under Tutankhamun’s treasure room?”
Dr. Hassan blinked, obviously surprised. “You found this?”
“Yes, that’s where Amon raised the shabtis.”
“How fascinating! You must tell me of this.”
“We will…later. First, you were saying he’d been moved?”
“Yes. I was aware of his location and had been caring for his tomb for quite some time. One day, I entered and felt the warmth of his presence missing.”
“Interesting. So he’s warm even when dead?”
“Not all people are sensitive to it. Apparently, you are one of the exceptions.”
“As are you. Go on.”
“So, I entered the tomb—this was approximately six months ago—and I sensed a change. The tomb had been disturbed. Though it was forbidden, I pried open the sarcophagus lid with a crowbar. Amon was gone.”
Amon leaned forward. “Why didn’t they take the sarcophagus?”
“Presumably, they wanted to remain undiscovered.” Dr. Hassan directed his next comment to me. “You must understand. Only someone using the darkest of magic could have even entered the tomb. It had been protected, the sarcophagus sealed. I had done a sealing spell on the entrance so that only I could access the tomb. If another archaeologist had stumbled across it, then I would have been instantly alerted. The spell was designed to repel the curious and destroy those with evil intent.”
“So you cursed his tomb,” I clarified.
“Essentially, yes.”
“Then why could Amon and I get in without a problem?”
“The curse would no longer apply if the object being protected was removed,” Amon explained.
“I do not understand how anyone could get past it,” Dr. Hassan said. “I included all the standard spell variations: disease, death, the offender’s name being stricken from history, and, of course, that it would affect seven times seven generations of his offspring.”
“The thought occurs to me,” Amon said, “that someone who was not threatened by physical death might have bypassed your curse.”
“That’s true,” I said. “And if he had no children…”
“And no body to get a disease…,” Amon added.
“Then he could enter the tomb with little risk,” Dr. Hassan finished.
“And sending me to New York would make my accomplishing the ceremony difficult, if not impossible, and yet no harm would come to my body,” Amon said. “Even should my remains be destroyed, it is possible for me to re-create my form, even if it had returned to the dust.”
Dr. Hassan sat back. “But who has the power and the motive to try to stop you?”
“I can only assume it would be him whom we were attempting to thwart.”
“You don’t mean—”
“The god of chaos. Seth.”
“You mean the one who caused all the trouble in the first place?” I asked.
“Yes. It is possible he has gained a foothold in the world again,” Amon said. “He used priests once before. Perhaps he has done so again.”
“Priests?” Dr. Hassan echoed skeptically. “I doubt it. Our sect is above reproach. We choose our novices very carefully.”
“As you said, there is more than one group now. Perhaps the Order of the Sphinx?”
Dr. Hassan shook his head. “No. That order is extinct. There hasn’t been a matriarch since the time of Hatshepsut.”
“I see.” Amon rubbed his jaw. “Still, there is the matter of the shabti.”
“Yes.” I turned to Dr. Hassan to explain. “Amon raised two of them who had been placed above the entrance to the tomb. Neither of them has returned to us, and one of them definitely tried to kill us.”
“Is this possibl
e?” Dr. Hassan asked incredulously.
“That’s how we got covered in the red toxin,” I stated flatly.
“In theory, they must obey the one who raised them. They should have been subject to me,” Amon said.
“This can mean only one thing,” Dr. Hassan said.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“You didn’t raise them.”
I stared. “Can the priests in your sect raise shabtis?”
“No. It is beyond our power.”
“Then someone else, someone more powerful, is trying to stop Amon,” I said.
“It would appear so,” the Egyptologist answered.
“I do not understand why Anubis would lead us falsely in that manner,” Amon said. “If the shabtis were impure, why, then, did they give us the funerary cone?” None of us had an answer for that.
As I sipped my drink, deep in thought, Amon turned to Dr. Hassan. “Doctor, did you hide my canopic jars?”
“I did. Forgive me, Amon, but when I discovered you were missing, I wanted to take no chances, so I hid them in an empty tomb. I will take you to them the instant you are ready.”
“It is too late,” Amon said sadly. “We were able to retrieve only one. The shabti crushed the others.”
“But he would not be able to find them unless—”
“Unless his master ordered him to,” Amon finished.
“Ah, I see. This is very unfortunate.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Why would they ship Amon off to the States and leave his jars behind?” I asked. “And if they left his sarcophagus here, why did the coffin in the museum look like Amon?”
“Ah, that I can speculate on,” Dr. Hassan said. “Each time Amon sleeps, a new sarcophagus is made. Perhaps they hid him in the place I’d be least likely to look. I wouldn’t think of looking in one of the old ones.”
“They likely knew that without my jars, my powers would wane quickly,” Amon explained. “And being an ocean away from Egypt would make completing the ceremony very difficult.”
“Okay, but then they could still take the canopic jars and hide them somewhere else.”