Reawakened (The Reawakened Series) (11 page)

As he started pulling me along the path, I grew more anxious. “But what if your special location to do the Anubis ritual thing isn’t there anymore? I mean, there’s been a lot of archaeological digging in the last one thousand years, you know. Uh, that means they’ve been excavating tombs,” I added in case he misunderstood. “The whole thing is a long shot.” I tried to wriggle my hand out of his grip and continued, “I mean, the remains of your brothers could be anywhere. And speaking of that, why do
you
have to raise them? Why can’t they raise themselves, like you do? And another thing—”

“Lily.” Amon stopped and turned, placing his hands on my shoulders. Warmth seeped directly into my bones, my muscles relaxing so completely that every question I had melted away. I wondered if he was doing that on purpose again, or if it was just a natural part of being around him. “I promise you that I will answer all of your questions,” he said. “But I must complete the ceremony before the full moon has risen directly above the ancient temples of Giza. Those monuments still stand, do they not?”

“You mean the pyramids? Yes, but—”

“Then we need to get there as soon as possible.”

“But with the full-moon restriction that gives us only a month at best.”

“I fear our time is much more limited,” Amon said after glancing briefly at the sky. “By my calculations we have approximately one week.” He took hold of my hand again and guided me expertly out of the park.

The honking of horns grew louder and we were soon surrounded by people. If I was going to escape it would have to be now. The thing was, I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Yes, my emotions were erratic. Yes, Amon was using me like an energy bar. Yes, he was an Egyptian mummy come to life. But I couldn’t deny that I’d never felt more…alive in all of my seventeen years than I had in the past twenty-four hours.

Amon stopped in front of the horse- drawn carriages, smiled widely, and raised his eyebrows.

“Sorry, Spartacus, they only travel around inside the park,” I explained.

He sighed. “It is probably for the best anyway. Those horses look fat and lazy. It is likely they do not have the stamina for the speed I wish.”

“Hey!” an eavesdropping coachman protested. Ignoring the carriage driver, Amon spotted a cab and stepped boldly in front of it, holding his hands up in a commanding gesture, despite the fact that the off-duty light was on. “Stop, golden chariot!” he shouted.

Amon headed around to the driver’s side and spoke with him for a moment, ignoring the honking and rude gestures coming from the other drivers. Then he indicated I should come forward.

The driver shot out of the taxi and opened the door for me. “Please make yourself comfortable, miss. I’ll have you two to the airport in record time.” Amon handed my bag to the driver.

I hesitated by the open door. Lifting my eyes, I found Amon holding out his hand as he watched me and I wondered if he was using his power to read my mind.

“Will you come with me, Lily?”

Not
“You will come,”
or
“Come with me,”
but
“Will you come?”

Amon was giving me a choice. Which I wasn’t sure was exactly the case, but it was a nice gesture. This was the moment. I had, if not all the facts, enough details to make an informed decision. Amon still had the power to control me and he was desperate enough to force me to do his bidding, but at the same time, he was offering me a precious taste of free agency.

I knew I was a coward—a privileged, self-deluded, spineless coward who preferred sitting in her pretty little mansion, in her prim little room, placating her preppy fake friends, and all the while fooling herself into believing that she was as free-spirited as the people she drew in her notebook.

But, I wasn’t. And right now, looking into Amon’s eyes, I was panicked. Not only because what he was asking me to do was way,
way
beyond my comfort zone, but also because I was deathly frightened that this adventure might be my one and only opportunity to break out. To choose something different. To
be
someone different. It was all too easy to picture my life five years in the future.

A gritty determination filled me. I wasn’t sure if it was Amon’s influence or if a switch in my mind had finally been flipped, but suddenly I
wanted
to go. I wanted to jump off a cliff. Leap from a plane. Grab the opportunity, as crazy as it was, to do and see things nobody else could.

Though my hand shook, I slid it into Amon’s and said, “Let’s go.” Taking a deep breath, I released all my reservations, feeling a sense of pride that I’d had the courage to say yes. Now I just had to get into the cab before my second thoughts became overwhelming.

Gifting me with a sunshine smile, Amon pulled me close and whispered in my ear, “You are braver than you think. Truly, you do have the heart of a sphinx.”

“What does that mean, exactly?” I asked as I climbed into the cab and scooted over to make room for Amon.

“In my country a sphinx is often depicted as a man, but the Greeks believed the sphinx to be female: half lioness, half human. I appreciate their version more. You see, a lioness is brave and smart. She is a huntress who provides food for her cubs. Each animal she hunts has the potential to end her life, but she still hunts just the same, for there are others who rely on her. To have the heart of a sphinx is to have the heart of a lioness. But the sphinx is also a protector, a defender. As she raises her great wings, she creates a powerful wind that wards off evil.”

“So are there real sphinxes? I mean, if Anubis is real and mummies are real, then it’s a possibility, right?”

Amon finally turned to me and rubbed his jaw. “I have never seen one, but there is a legend told among warriors that a woman brave of heart who proves herself in battle will be embraced by the spirit of the sphinx.”

“Right. All things considered, I’m not sure that’s something I’d want to aspire to. Battling isn’t really on my list of things to do, and I’m also not too fond of the idea of having a tail.”

Amon glanced at my body with interest as if considering the possibility.

“What?” I sputtered as my face turned red.

“Nothing,” he answered, unable to hide his grin.

I sank my elbow into his side and said, “Quit it. And while I’m thinking of it, stop reading my mind, too.”

“Believe it or not, I try to avoid it, but sometimes your feelings are so overwhelming, even I, with all my powers, do not have the ability to defend myself from the onslaught.”

I peered at the driver, wondering what he thought of this conversation, but he didn’t seem to be paying much attention. In fact, his expression was almost…giddy.

Quietly, I asked Amon, “What did you do to him?”

“Are you controlling him?”

“I am manipulating his vision,” Amon said as he leaned closer.

“What do you mean?”

“What he sees are the two most important people he will ever drive.”

When we arrived at JFK, I pulled out my credit card to pay, but the driver was insulted that I’d even suggest such a thing. He even dusted off my backpack and offered to carry it in for me. When we were finally able to break away from him, he shook hands with Amon, offered him a business card, said he was a big fan, and added that if Amon was ever in New York again to please not hesitate to call upon him for any reason.

As he drove away, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Who did he think you were?”

“I am not sure of the name, but the image of a young male singer with lots of hair came to my mind.”

The idea that a NYC taxi driver’s dream client was a member of a boy band kept me smiling all the way into the airport terminal.

We entered the airport without any trouble, and Amon watched the other travelers with an expression of deep fascination. How different and strange we must have seemed to him, what with our gleaming windows, spacious, airy buildings of chrome and metal, and everyone bustling from place to place with their wheeled luggage.

“Now, you have to be careful about what you do in here. You have a knack for drawing too much attention to yourself. Try to blend in. There are cameras everywhere.” At his confused look, I explained, “A camera takes pictures. You know, like the carvings on the walls of temples and pyramids? They’re like that, only much, much more accurate. See?”

I took a picture of myself with my phone and showed it to him. With fascination, he traced the image with his finger.

Turning my phone around, I clicked a picture of Amon, but the screen was blurred. “Hold on. Let me try again.”

I shut off the flash and touched the button again and again, but each shot was the same. In the spot where Amon should be, there was a burst of light.

“Your technology cannot carve my image. It is likely because I am a walking shadow.”

Staring at the bright blur on my phone, I mumbled, “More like a walking supernova.”

Amon continued to study the other travelers and then asked suddenly, “How do you see me, Young Lily?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I have no way to classify you. Are you an Egyptian god? A mummy? Are you human? A ghost? Immortal obviously, but really there’s just no frame of reference.”

“No. I mean to ask you, what is wrong with my appearance?”

“Um…nothing, really.”
At least, no girl I know would have a problem.

Amon frowned. “Do you know if this…airport has a room for baths?”

“You want to take a bath right now?” I asked, confused.

“No.”

And then it hit me. “Oh, a
rest
room. Sure.”

“I do not wish to rest, either.”

“No, I know. That’s just what it’s called—a bathroom, a restroom, or a men’s room.” I looked around and spied one not too far away. “Do you see where that man is going? That’s the restroom for men.”

“Will you wait for me here?”

“Yes.”

As I watched him walk away, an idea popped into my head. On a whim, I headed over to a cart that sold earbuds. I knew Amon would find them very interesting and was buying him a pair when I felt a tug in my gut.

Signing the receipt quickly, I gave in to the pull and was drawn back in the general direction of where we’d been sitting. The chairs were now occupied by other travelers, and Amon was nowhere to be seen. Turning in a circle, I tucked my hair behind my ears and looked for him.

The tugging sensation was gone. I assumed it had been generated by Amon, so its abrupt absence worried me.

A familiar voice called my name quietly and I spun around. “Amon? What…what have you done?” He’d changed out of my father’s baggy workout clothes, and as I glanced around I realized how he’d gotten a different outfit. Three young men stumbled from the bathroom wearing articles of clothing that had once been my father’s. Each had a confused look on his face and one of them plucked at the old T-shirt as he walked away.

The fact that Amon had switched clothes with them was the least startling part of his transformation. The young man with the devastatingly gorgeous smile had somehow added hair to his head. “Is that a wig?” Reaching up, I tugged on the hair and found it solidly stuck to his head.

“It is my own hair. Is the style correct?”

If I thought Amon was handsome before, he was handsome to the nth degree now. His hair was dark brown, short in the back and on the sides, and a little longer on top. It was thick, layered, voluminous, and a little messy. The sort of hair a girl could bury her fingers in as she kissed him.
Stop it, Lily!

“It’s…not bad,” I finally said. “How did you do it?”

“I just accelerated the natural growth.”

“I thought you were bald because you couldn’t grow hair.”

“No. Egyptian princes shave their heads.”

“I see. So…why did you change clothes and grow your hair?”

Amon shrugged. “It has not escaped my attention that I do not look like other men my age. It will be easier for me to move about if I’m less…noticeable. There is not much I can do to alter my behavior except to follow your example, but I can attempt to at least look like I am from your world. I have not seen any men my age with shaven heads.”

“Right, but—”

“Do I look better?”

“You look great,” I said, and he did. He now wore a pair of dark, straight-leg jeans, a fitted blue blazer, a white henley shirt, and gray Converse sneakers.

“I have a new belt, too. See?”

He lifted his shirt to show me, but I was too distracted by the tight muscles of his abdomen to notice the belt. “That’s…that’s nice,” I murmured, and turned away to hide the red warming my cheeks.

Dropping his shirt, he asked, “Does it not meet your expectations?”

I waved a hand. “Believe me…you are above and
beyond
my expectations.” I cleared my throat uncomfortably, realizing what I’d just said. He didn’t seem to notice anything abnormal. “Well. Now that you are attired comfortably, shall we figure out which plane will take us to Egypt?”

Leaving behind a trail of dreamy-eyed airline employees entranced by Amon’s power, his
GQ
looks, or a combination of the two, and, clutching two tickets to Cairo that we had neither paid for nor showed passports to attain, we made our way through the airport. It wasn’t long before I noticed the effect Amon had, not just on employees but on almost every person of the female gender he met.

Amon had an aura of power, and, at least to me, he radiated all things warm and sunny. I suspected this was either a natural part of him or a reflection of the gifts of the sun god. We were all like sunflowers turning our heads toward a very handsome sun. The idea irritated me and I realized it was because I selfishly wanted to keep all of Amon’s warmth for myself.

Once we were on board, the flight attendants began showering us with a little too much attention. Amon basked in it.

The first hour passed and the flight attendants had become a constant annoyance. By the time the fourth attendant came by just to check on Amon a second time, I was fed up and interrupted her before she said anything. “We’re fine, thanks.” I hissed at Amon, “I liked you better bald.”

Amon thought my reaction was hilarious. In response, I grabbed the pillow off his armrest and jammed it behind my head, folding my arms across my chest and closing my eyes so I didn’t have to watch the never-ending parade of Amon devotees.

Still chuckling, Amon grabbed the blanket given to him by one of the attendants—whose perfume he’d declared rivaled an Egyptian queen’s—tucked it around me, and leaned over to whisper, “A desert lily need not turn jealous eyes toward the common violet.”

I didn’t respond and was soon lulled to sleep by the drone of the engines.