Reawakened (The Reawakened Series) (12 page)

The clattering of silverware and the soft murmur of voices woke me. Opening my eyes, I saw a large man across the aisle digging into his dinner and was jolted back to reality. Bringing my palms to my eyes, I rubbed and wondered if I had just dreamed these past two days.

“Excuse me,” the flight attendant said as she practically shoved her ample bosom in my face so she could have better access to my traveling companion. Obviously, it wasn’t a dream. I was alert enough to hear Amon exclaim over the dinner she was going to be bringing him. Rolling my eyes, I tapped her on the shoulder.

“I’d like to use the restroom, please.”

“Oh, of course.”

Once in there, I locked the door and wet a towel to press against my cheeks. I didn’t look like myself. My normally confident, shoulders-back stance and healthy frame looked hunched and sickly. There was a definite gray tinge to my skin, made worse by a sheen of sweat. My chestnut-brown hair hung in limp, fettucine-like strands, the shine long gone. My carefully applied makeup was smeared, and the circles under my eyes looked like wrung-out tea bags.

Taking out the small makeup case I’d fortunately brought with me, I fixed my face the best I could and pulled my hair up into a loose ponytail.
What have you gotten yourself into?
I allowed myself a brief moment of hysteria for agreeing to go to—I could barely even think it—
Egypt
, with a who-knows-how-many-thousands-of-years-old mummy prince who was too hot to handle in more ways than one.

When I had repeated the mantra “It is what it is” to myself a dozen times, I was ready to return to my seat.

I found a middle-aged woman sitting next to Amon, asking him all kinds of questions about his homeland. When he saw me, he said to her kindly, “My Lily has returned and it is time for us to dine. Perhaps we can speak of Egypt some more at a later time.”

“Oh, yes, I’d like that,” the woman said, grinning from ear to ear before she returned to her row.

Scowling, I dropped back into my seat and tucked my makeup bag on the floor under me. Amon leaned over to buckle my seat belt. “You must wear this at all times until the captain says it is safe to walk about the cabin.”

I pushed his hands away. “Yeah, I got it. And I’m not
your
Lily, by the way.”

Cheerfully ignoring my comment, he asked, “Do you know how to lower your table?”

“Yes. I was
born
in this century.”

He seemed both fascinated and a bit confused by my sarcasm. I wasn’t sure why I suddenly felt so prickly. Once again, my emotions were running amok. When my table was arranged, the flight attendant brought our meals. I saw the special smile she gave to Amon and I narrowed my eyes, and then froze, realizing why I’d been so irritable. I was feeling…possessive of Amon. After I cleared my throat loudly, the flight attendant set down the trays with heavy clunks and asked Amon if he needed anything else. When he said he would let her know, she left us alone. Not one, not two, but three dinners sat before each of us. “What is this?” I sputtered.

“A feast. Or at least, the best that Gloria could provide under the circumstances.”

Apparently he’d ordered the vegetarian lasagna, the chicken dinner, a chef’s salad, and a fruit and cheese platter for each of us.

“She said she will bring our desserts later,” Amon said as he picked up a bunch of grapes and started pulling them off, one by one, with his teeth.

I shook my head. My dark mood lifted at seeing him eat grapes like an ancient god, which I suppose he was, and my lips curved into a smile despite my attempt to remain irked. “Like this,” I whispered, and picked off a few grapes from the bunch and then placed them in my mouth. Amon lowered the bunch and watched me, focusing his attention on my lips. I’d just begun to feel awkward, embarrassed, and a little warm, when he pointed to the lasagna.

He copied my every move, from using the knife and fork, to opening the little packages of salt and pepper, to using the napkin, to drizzling the dressing over the salad. He soon noticed that I’d placed my napkin over my tray and was immediately concerned.

Brushing his fingers across my cheek, his Egyptian-god version of a diagnostic tool, he asked, “Are you ill?”

“No. Just a little tired,” I answered as he studied me with his hazel eyes.

“Then why haven’t you finished eating?”

I shrugged. “I don’t usually eat this much. I told you before, remember?”

“I remember.”

Amon turned back to his food but soon pushed the remainder of his meal away as well. When I asked him why, he answered, “Feasting is not meant to be done alone. It is a time for celebration, renewal. If you will not indulge with me, then I will also abstain.”

“What exactly are you celebrating?”

“Life,” he said simply.

“I don’t understand.”

The attendant took away our unfinished meals and refilled our drinks. After trying every noncarbonated beverage available, Amon declared orange juice to be his drink of choice, which made sense for a sun god. He watched my drink warily as I sipped from my recently refilled diet ginger ale. I repeated, “Why are you celebrating life?”

“When I…wake, I find I have a great hunger for life. During the weeks before the ceremony, I feast. I dance. I surround myself”—as he continued, he touched his fingertips to a loose lock of my hair and trailed his fingers down the length of it until the wisps fell against my cheek—“with beauty. I relish every moment of being alive. Then I have something to reflect upon, to warm me during the long years of darkness.

“Where do you go after the ceremony?”

His expression changed from peaceful to grim, and he turned away as he replied, “I do not wish to speak of it.”

“All right.” It was so strange to look at Amon and not see the warmth I’d come to know so well. “Well, how about a movie?”

“What is that again?”

“Would you like to see the modern interpretation of mummies?”

“Yes.”

We stayed awake late into the night watching film after film, pausing only for restroom breaks. I started with old school: Boris Karloff’s
The Mummy.
Amon’s only response when it was over was “Another.” I found myself watching his expressions more than the movies as we saw the 1999 version of
The Mummy
and the 2001 sequel,
The Mummy Returns.

Amon frowned at scenes that were supposed to be humorous and scoffed openly at others. He fixated on costumes and backgrounds and once whispered, “I do not know this place.”

I tried to explain how the scenes were often false, created by artists who work on the computer, but he shushed me and kept watching. I nodded off during the third film and woke up near the end. “Did you like it?” I asked.

Not answering my question, he began asking his own. “Why do your people view Egypt in this way? I am made out to be a monster when my role is to save mankind from darkness. I am not evil, Lily.”

I took his hand and said, “I know that.”

“This is why you were frightened of me in the House of Muses? You thought I would consume your flesh and split your spirit self from your physical body, or cause a plague to rain down upon you?”

“Not…exactly. But I was afraid, yes.”

Amon sat back in his seat and mumbled, “The ancients were not fearful of our rising. They anticipated our awakening. Garlands were draped round our necks. We were treated as gods, princes. They offered us their love and devotion. Now we are shunned, feared, made into creatures of death and stench.

“We are at best forgotten, at worst vindictive demons. We are unknown. Unworthy. Unloved. Perhaps we are meant to waste away to nothing, to truly become the relics we are, and give ourselves over to dust and decay.”

The emotions Amon was feeling—despair, loneliness—came at me in waves and I couldn’t help but respond.

“Amon.” I cupped his hand in mine and said quietly, “I know you haven’t risen in ideal circumstances, and you’re right that your…kind hasn’t been thought of by the masses as heroes, but that doesn’t diminish what you are, who you are, or what your purpose might be. Even though the people you’ve met don’t know you, they sense something special and they gravitate toward you. Look at these flight attendants! They might not recognize you as a prince, but they still fall all over themselves worshipping you. It’s like they can’t resist. Your warmth draws them to you.”

My words made an impact. I sensed it in him as he considered what I said. Little by little, his dark thoughts dissipated, and it wasn’t long before he gifted me with a chagrined smile.

“Lily, are you perhaps a goddess residing in a modern form? You have the wisdom of one.”

I scoffed, “I’m no goddess, believe me. I’m just a good observer of people.”

“You observe, but you do not interact?”

“As a rule, no. I try not to interfere or get involved with other people’s lives.”

“Why not?”

“I suppose it would ruin the mystery.”

“For me there is nothing of the mysterious. When I focus on a person I can perceive their thoughts.”

“So you can read everyone’s mind, not just mine?” I asked.

“I have been gifted with the Eye of Horus.”

“Who exactly is Horus, and what does his eye have to do with anything?” I asked, glancing around nervously and lowering my voice.

“Do not worry, Lily. Most of the people around us are asleep, and if I wish it, they cannot hear us. I can…disrupt their hearing.”

“Like with your photo?”

“Yes. It is the same. They will know we are talking, but they will not understand us.” He concentrated for a moment and then said, “It is done.”

The dark plane coupled with the fact that no one could hear us made me feel like I was trapped in an intimate little bubble with Amon, and I found I liked the feeling. “Okay, so tell me about Horus.”

Amon’s smile flashed in the dark. “Are you not tired, Lily?”

“Exhausted, but I really want to hear this.”

“Very well.” Amon paused for a moment, and then began. “Horus is the son of Amun-Ra. He was called the Golden Sun; whereas his father was the Risen Sun, Horus was the light that broke forth over the hills at the beginning of a new day, filling the world from one end to another.”

“The horizon,” I murmured. “He’s the horizon.”

Amon tilted his head, considering my words. “Yes. I believe that is an accurate definition.”

“Tell me more,” I said, and got out my notebook to draw, turning on the little overhead light so I could see. “Can you describe him?”

“In carvings, he is often represented with the head of a falcon, but as your…movies have shown, this concept is misunderstood. He does not have an actual falcon head, just as Anubis does not have a dog’s head. These animals are their companions.”

Amon peered at my sketch and continued. “The gods and goddesses were often depicted with the heads of their token animals so they could be discerned from one another and from other important leaders.”

“That makes sense. What color is Horus’s hair?”

“I have not seen Horus personally.”

“Oh. Well, just tell me what you know about him and his eyes or whatever,” I said, pencil poised to take notes.

“Horus is the son of Isis and Osiris—”

“Hold up. I thought he was the son of Amun-Ra.”

“He is.”

“How can he be the son of both?”

“I will explain. Perhaps it is better to start with Osiris. He married his sister, Isis.”

“His sister?”

“Yes.”

“Is incest common among the Egyptian gods?”

“It is, and also later, among the pharaohs.”

“Yuck, but okay…go on.”

“Osiris was a good and wise ruler of Egypt, and when it was time for him to take a wife, he found no woman he loved more than his sister, Isis. The goddess Isis was as soft and as lovely as a moonbeam, and she had a gift for magic unlike any other. Their union was happy and was celebrated by all except one—their erstwhile brother Seth.”

“Wait. Isn’t he the bad guy? The Dark One, or whoever, that you have to overcome?”

“He is the very same.”

“Interesting.” I started making a new list as Amon went on.

“The dark god Seth did not always have a heart so black, but he was jealous of his brother Osiris. Seth wanted to rule, but even more, he wanted Isis. Seth was bewitched by her beauty, and though he took many different women to be his wife, he did not think any of them as desirable as the one he couldn’t have. The need to possess his sister consumed him. In anger he turned away from all that was good and allowed the seeds of corruption, bitterness, and lust to fester in his heart.