Reawakened (The Reawakened Series) (20 page)

“What does all this mean?” I asked.

“This is my story. My tomb,” Amon responded quietly as he moved forward. He stopped at a large sarcophagus carved from wood. The detailing on it was exquisite, and I gasped when I realized it looked like Amon. Gingerly, I traced the curves of his face on the wooden image.

“It’s you,” I whispered.

“Yes.”

“But there was a golden sarcophagus in the museum when you woke up. It looked like you, too.”

“I do not know why or how I came to be in that sarcophagus. Perhaps a second one was created by those who watch over us, or perhaps I was relocated to protect my identity, but this is the one that was created for me by Anubis.”

“Why isn’t it golden, like King Tut’s?”

“Neither I nor my brothers have a need to collect or display our power with great treasures. Our purpose is simply to serve. If there were rumors of gold or a treasure associated with us, then thieves and marauders would constantly seek us out.”

“I like this better,” I said as I ran my hand over the polished wood, which had been expertly carved and painted with great care. Amon’s smile indicated that my remark had pleased him, but his thoughts and emotions were shadowed. “Amon?”

“Yes?”

“Why is your sarcophagus gleaming? It looks like someone just oiled it.”

Amon walked around to the other side. “I do not know. Perhaps our caretakers have been here. I think we need to open it. Stand back, Lily.”

Slowly raising his arms, Amon chanted softly. The top of the huge coffin shook and rose off its base. It was heavy, and Amon’s arms trembled as the lid moved to the side. Lowering his arms, he gently set it on the floor, where it settled in the sand before falling against the side of the sarcophagus with a heavy thud. I went to him, offering to share my energy, but he waved me off and leaned against the coffin until he caught his breath.

I wasn’t sure what he or I expected to find, but there was nothing. The huge casket was empty.

“I do not understand,” Amon said, peering inside. “I should have awoken here. How was I brought to your city?”

“Someone must’ve moved you.”

“But who? Why?”

“Maybe there was someone who didn’t want you to wake up in Egypt. Do you have enemies?”

“Most people do not even know we exist.”

“But some do. Who wouldn’t want you to perform your ceremony?”

“The ceremony benefits all mankind. The only one it harms is the god of chaos, Seth, but he does not have a foothold strong enough in the modern world to cause us harm.”

“Are you certain about that?”

“As certain as I can be about such things.”

“Hmm…Well, first things first, do you see your canopic jars anywhere?”

We spent several minutes searching, but came up with nothing but dust. It wasn’t until I was wandering back toward where we’d entered that I noticed the funerary cones lining the entrance to Amon’s tomb. Sure enough, one of the cones was missing near the top of the arch. I called Amon over. He hoisted me up on his shoulders to get a closer look.

Though it was dark in the hole where the cone would be, there was unmistakably something inside. Overcoming my squeamishness, I reached in and touched what turned out to be a statue. There were, in fact, two statues nestled into the gap where the funerary cone belonged, each about the length of a pen. I pulled out one and then the other, handing them down to Amon.

Grabbing my hands, he helped me slide off his shoulders and then picked up the two statues and examined them.

“What are they?” I asked as I stared at them. One of the statues looked like an ancient pharaoh with little carvings across the torso and its arms folded across its chest. It was a beautiful jade color. Very striking, the piece was probably worth a fortune.

The other was shorter, almost half as tall as the first, and was made of dark stone. It held a large parchment that was torn down the middle. Its shape was similar to that of a heart, and there was an expression of delight on its ugly face.

“They are called
shabtis.
At one time, human servants were entombed with their leaders, with the understanding that they would journey to the afterlife with their masters and continue to act as servants for the dead kings or pharaohs.”

“That’s barbaric!” At Amon’s confused expression, I clarified, “Cruel. Horrifying.”

“Yes. Eventually this practice changed to entomb servants only symbolically. These statues represent those who would serve the one buried.”

“So these guys are supposed to serve you?”

“In theory.”

“Did they? Have you met them in the afterlife?”

“No. But I wonder…”

“Wonder what?”

Amon lifted his gaze from the statues to me. “There is a spell.”

“I’m not sure I like the sound of this. Your spells don’t work out so well for me.”

Beginning to grow excited, Amon continued, “But if I raise them, they can use their power to help us. Do you see? Anubis must have placed them here. They can seek out my canopic jars, and then I will no longer need to borrow your energy. Our connection can be dissolved without risking—”

Amon stopped abruptly and I narrowed my eyes. “Risking what?”

He waved a hand. “It is unimportant. The benefits outweigh the risks. I will awaken them,” he declared.

“Hold on there, Houdini. Don’t you think we should talk about this? I mean, do we really need supernatural aid? I think we’re doing pretty well on our own.”

Amon took my arm and squeezed. A frosty fear that stretched like spiny fingers wove into his conscious mind, a dread that I realized he’d kept hidden from me. I caught only a glimpse of it before it was gone. Though I didn’t know the cause, whatever was bothering him was terribly real. “You must trust me,” he said as his eyes desperately searched mine.

His grip on my arm actually hurt. “Okay,” I said softly. “We’ll do it the sun god way.”

Letting out a sigh, Amon released my arm and winced when he saw me rub it. Reaching out his hand, he cupped my cheek, then slid his fingers behind my neck, lowering his head to touch mine. “I am sorry I hurt you, Lily. It was not my intention.”

“It’s fine,” I replied.

After a moment, he stepped back, placed the two statues on the ground, and launched into the weaving of his spell.

Shabti servants, apportioned to me,

You who molder in corruption,

I summon you from the realm of the dead.

No obstacle shall deter you as you make your way to my side.

Come! Come to the one who calls you forth.

Make arable the fields that sustain me.

Bank the raging floods that threaten me.

Convey the weighty stones that shelter me.

When death seeks me out,

Bear me away on swift wings.

You who were gifted to me by the great god Anubis,

Your duty is to me, and me alone.

Death is not your end for I am your beginning.

When I call you from the east, west, north, or south,

You shall say, “Here am I. Here is your servant.”

Come, shabtis, and embrace your master!

When Amon finished, the little statues twitched, dancing in the dust like firecrackers. The violent movements became more and more pronounced and they rose in the air, rotating at blinding speeds.

Amon gestured that I should come to him, so I darted around the statues, giving them a wide berth, and grasped Amon’s outstretched hand. The cavernous tomb shook, and I wondered if the trembling of the earth could be felt several levels above us by the visitors to King Tut’s tomb.

A burst of dark smoke that sparkled with electric bursts of light wound around the statues, encircling them with thick black threads. Soon, I could no longer see the figurines. The clouds of smoke grew bigger and bigger and then seemed to draw into themselves and solidify into shapes resembling men.

Finally, the dark silhouettes completely formed and standing before us were two men dressed in a similar fashion to Amon when I first found him. The last place the smoke dissipated was around their eyes, and then they each took a breath. When they opened their eyes, smoke still rimmed their irises.

The taller of the two had a short cap of wavy gray hair. His face was kind and open, and he had expressive eyebrows. He immediately adopted a subservient attitude. The shorter one had curly black hair that blended into a full beard. Shifty eyes took in everything around him. It wasn’t the fact that he looked like a pirate that made me mistrust him, but the cold, calculating way he stared at us.

Immediately, the two men threw themselves upon the ground and stretched out their arms.

Amon raised his hand and swished his fingers like he had when we first met and couldn’t communicate.

He then addressed them. “Shabtis, are you ready to serve?”

“There is nothing else in this realm or any other that would deter us,” they replied together.

“Then I have a task for you,” Amon said with a satisfied smile.

The two shabtis rose from their prostrate positions. The taller one kept his eyes lowered, but the shorter raised his flinty eyes and fixed them upon me, his mouth slowly twisting into a leer that made me very uncomfortable. I took a step closer to Amon and wrapped my hand around his arm. This made the shorter man smile even wider.

“What is thy command, Master?” the taller of the two asked.

Addressing the inquirer, Amon instructed, “You, seek out the resting place of my brother, he who embodies the spirit of the moon god. And you”—Amon turned to the other servant, whose expression was now so full of humility that I doubted my original opinion of him—“find my canopic jars. Also, do not forget to leave a trail that I may follow.”

The two men bowed before crossing their arms over their chests. “We live to serve you,” they echoed before spinning into cyclones of dark smoke that rushed out of the catacombs in opposite directions.

When they were gone, Amon smiled. “You see? This is exactly the help we need.”

“I don’t trust the little one,” I replied. “He seems devious, like he’s planning an assault on us or something.”

“Put your worries aside. Shabtis may not ignore the commands of the one who gives them life. To go against the will of the one who summoned them is the most serious of crimes. If they do so, they condemn themselves to wander the Mires of Despair alone. Without a guide, they will be lost in the Caverns of the Dead, never again to experience a moment of happiness, never again to have their ka reunite with their body, never again to lay eyes on their loved ones. It is a punishment worse than death.”

“I still don’t trust him.”

A faint red light appeared, floating like an ethereal mist. It scattered when I ran my hand through it, but then the particles drew back together to form a loose beam that drifted down one of the dark corridors.

Amon smiled. “There. I told you, he can be trusted. He has left us a trail. Come, Lily.”

I took Amon’s outstretched hand and he led me through several passageways. Very soon, it became obvious to both of us that we were going in circles. Amon’s mood darkened and he tried summoning the errant shabti to return, with no luck. Despite the warning bells going off in my mind, Amon attempted to trivialize the shabti’s no-show and reassure me that the servant must have been restrained from coming. I, however, believed differently.

“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 lips. “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.”