Reawakened (The Reawakened Series) (35 page)

“Are you familiar with the impossible staircase?”

“Yes, I studied it at school in art class. Wait, are you saying we were trapped in one?”

“Something like it. If we had stayed there, we would have wandered in circles forever.”

“Do they have a lot of those in ancient Egypt?” I asked. “Is that how you knew about it?”

“Not exactly.” Dr. Hassan seemed uncomfortable. “Ah!” he exclaimed. “There it is. I can sense the warmth of Ahmose’s body. He is right over there.”

“But what about his canopic jars?”

Dr. Hassan smiled. “If they did not open the lids, then all should be well.”

“But—”

“Stand aside.” Asten gently nudged me away from Dr. Hassan before I could finish my question. He lifted his arms, and the top of the sarcophagus rose in the air.

Like us, the casket was filthy, coated with grit and mud. Still, little spots of polished wood shone through. After the lid crashed to the floor and Asten confirmed that the body inside was indeed that of his beloved brother, he began chanting.

Dr. Hassan knelt at the foot of the coffin, took out a half-empty bottle of water and a crumbled pack of crackers from his bag, and placed them on a flat rock. He gave me a sheepish grin. “I know it’s not necessary, but I am a man of tradition.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it,” I whispered, and offered him a small smile.

We sat quietly and watched Asten as he wove his spell. Now that I knew what to expect, the idea of bringing a mummy back from the dead didn’t frighten me as much as it had the first time. Asten murmured,

The moon cannot wax or wane. The moon is deathly cold.

As are you, my brother.

Ahmose—the embodiment of the moon.

It is time for rebirth. For renewal. For remaking.

Without you, the moon is eclipsed. The rays of the sun have no mirror.

The celestial realm needs your glittering glory.

Come, Brother. Take up your ax and your cudgel.

Join me in our shared fate once again.

The time is at hand to fulfill our purpose.

My enemies will be your enemies.

My allies will be your allies.

Together we will bring order to chaos

And strengthen the ties that bind the universe.

When I live, you live, for I share my life with you.

When I breathe, you breathe, for I share my breath with you.

I am Asten, the guardian of the stars.

Asten paused briefly and turned to look at me and Dr. Hassan.

With the Eye of Horus we seek you out.

You wander in darkness, bereft and lost,

But we will light the path before you.

I expected Asten’s eyes to light a path similar to the way Amon’s had, but instead a fog with little crackles of electricity surrounded us. It snapped and buzzed like a fluorescent bulb on the fritz, the light burning brightly one moment, then going dark the next. Dr. Hassan groaned.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, turning to him. He waved me off, but his hands shook as he lowered his head into them and began rocking back and forth. “Asten?” I cried. “Something’s not right.”

“I must concentrate, Lily. Hassan will be fine.”

Your body is dust, chaff before the wind,

But the wind obeys me, and the dust listens.

I beckon you forth from the land of the dead.

Come, Ahmose! Heed my summons.

Return to the form of the man you once were.

I call upon the four winds to lend me power

And through them I give you the breath of life….

Once again the sounds of heavy breathing surrounded us. Dr. Hassan lifted his head. “You must open the canopic jars, Lily,” he said. “There is one hidden in each corner of the casket. Find the small button located at the bottom of each corner and push it. That will open the padded box and reveal the jar within. Hurry!”

The first wind hit me right in the face. Standing up, I pushed forward against it and peered inside the sarcophagus, getting an up-close-and-personal view of Ahmose’s scattered remains. Like Asten, bits of tattered wrappings appeared to be stuck to the dried husks of his limbs, but unlike Asten, Ahmose’s body was much more decayed and damaged.

The second wind came, smacking me hard against the sarcophagus. The body inside did not rest in the repose that had surely been intended for it. Broken bones lay strewn everywhere, a likely result of the coffin’s fall through the quicksand. The sarcophagus had seen better days. Thick mud and debris coated both the inside as well as the outside.

I prayed that the jars had not broken. It would be a miracle if they hadn’t, and we sorely needed one. It was hard enough for me to have Amon bound to my organs. That level of intimacy was too much to share with one Egyptian demigod, let alone two.

Swallowing, I felt the push from the third wind. It was like standing in a hurricane. I clung to the coffin to maintain my balance, my hair whipping across my face and neck and leaving little stinging bites.

Expecting the bones to rise up at any moment, I hurried about my task and quickly found the button. I pressed it and a panel popped out. Hidden behind it in a thickly padded cubby was the first jar. Thankfully, it was whole and made of stone, which made me optimistic about the possibility of finding the others intact. “It has the pharaoh’s face on it! Does it matter which one I open first?” I shouted.

“Just get them open. Quickly!” Dr. Hassan yelled, then gritted his teeth in pain and squeezed his shaking hands into fists. Something was definitely wrong, and I knew it must be more than just the pressure of the wind. He looked like he was having a seizure, but when I headed toward him, he shook his head vehemently.

Being a little less careful with the jar than I probably should have, I wrenched off its lid and didn’t even stop to watch the white light that emerged from it before seeking the next jar.

The second corner was blocked by the bound feet of the mummy, whose legs were no longer attached to its hips. My fingers trembled as I nudged one exposed foot aside, found the button, and pulled the canopic jar out. The white light that rose joined the first, both of them circling in the air right above me.

Finding the third jar was difficult. It wasn’t tucked away in its proper corner. I searched the hidden space, stretching my hand as far as I could reach, but found nothing. Desperately, I looked up and noticed something gray beneath the bandages covering the mummy’s torso.

Swallowing, I steeled myself and peeled back some of the bandages. The jar lay nestled in the empty space where part of the mummy’s rib cage used to be.

The fourth canopic jar was the most difficult to obtain. A pile of bones filled the final corner of the sarcophagus, the skull sitting prominently in the middle of them.

My hands shook as I thrust them into the clumps of mud, clothing, and bone lining the coffin. Repositioning the mess, I moved the pieces as respectfully and as quickly as I could, saving the skull for last.

Ahmose’s empty eye sockets seemed to be staring at me as I worked. Lifting his skull and placing it next to his femur with a quick apology, I found the last button and yanked out the final jar. My hands were slick with mud and whatever fossilized bits of Ahmose remained, so it took several tries, but finally I wrenched off the lid, and the white light inside rose and began circling overhead.

After wiping my hands on the rim of the sarcophagus and wishing, not for the first time, that I had a suitcase full of wet wipes, I rejoined Dr. Hassan and nodded to Asten.

Slowly, as if battling a tremendous force, small fragments of Ahmose’s body, including the tiniest bones, rose from the grit inside the coffin and churned in a circular path. They were soon followed by larger bones. Most of the pieces were bare and easily shook off whatever bandages remained. It looked like his entire body was caught in a blender.

Crane—give flight to his spirit

And ease his passage.

The electricity-filled fog swelled in size, becoming gray and stormy. Tiny lightning strikes flashed through the cloud until there was a violent storm and the cloud burst, leaving behind only a pinprick of white light. The light moved, wandering aimlessly in the dark spaces that Asten’s light could not reach. “No, Brother. You must return to me,” Asten cried out.

The embodiment of the stars lifted his hands and beckoned the light. Dr. Hassan trembled nearby, and I nudged my body closer to his to offer support, but he didn’t seem to be aware of my presence. After a few moments, a concerned Asten breathed a sigh of relief as the tiny seed of light finally returned, growing until it took on the shape of a silver bird.

It looked more like Asten’s starlit ibis than Amon’s golden falcon. The creature made of silver light began to circle Asten. “Come, Brother. It is time.”

With a trumpeting cry, the bird soared toward the sarcophagus, where the four lights from the jars merged with it. It was quickly encompassed by the whirlwind and exploded in a burst of silvery light that was absorbed into the skull’s eye sockets.

The frame came together like a puzzle. Arms linked to shoulders. Legs to hips. The vertebrae snapped into their proper places. The right hand shook repeatedly and then I heard the sudden crack of wood as two finger bones that had been wedged tightly in the fragmented side of the coffin shot up into the air and clicked into position.

Shiny beams ran down the limbs of the floating skeleton, and the creature that would easily fit in as a Halloween decoration or hanging in a medical office began to writhe. Newly made veins filled with quicksilver blood, and shining muscle formed over gleaming bone as a heart began pumping. Light shone through the eye sockets in two beams that fell upon me and then Dr. Hassan, and I wondered if Asten’s brother could see already, even before his eyes had returned.

Asten finished the spell.

As you pass through this last portal of death,

Cries of joy will greet you,

Feasts will welcome you,

Your heart will beat again,

Your limbs will leap again,

Your voice will be heard again,

All that was lost will be returned.

Come, Ahmose, and fulfill your destiny!

I shielded my eyes until the light faded, pleased that I hadn’t passed out this time. Asten’s brother hovered above us, resplendent and shining. The skirt he wore was as pristine as if it had just been made, and his body, clean and radiant as a newborn’s, put all of us standing in our filth to shame.

Slowly, he lowered his arms and descended to the ground next to his coffin. He spoke quietly to Asten and then approached me and Dr. Hassan. At first, I assumed Dr. Hassan had fallen to the floor again in a sign of deference to the moon god, but upon closer inspection, I realized he was unconscious.

Concerned, Ahmose knelt and rolled Dr. Hassan onto his back. He asked me a question, but it was in Egyptian. I tried to explain that I didn’t understand, but he smiled kindly and moved closer to Dr. Hassan. Like Asten and Amon, Ahmose had risen naked except for his white skirt. Like them, he was very handsome, but he was larger, with thick muscles on his shoulders and arms.

Ahmose began weaving a spell over Dr. Hassan. As I moved to the other side of the doctor and held his hand, I couldn’t help but study this third brother.

It was easy to see why this demigod preferred an ax to a bow and arrow. At the same time, he treated Dr. Hassan with the utmost care; his thick fingers squeezed the Egyptologist’s shoulders with the lightest pressure. Not something I’d expect in a man of such stature.

When he was finished with his spell, Ahmose lifted his gaze to mine once more, and I felt captured in his silvery-gray eyes. Dr. Hassan recovered and stood up to speak with the men for a few moments before accepting the bottled water I offered. I’d planned to offer a welcoming handshake to Ahmose as I rose from the floor, but seeing how grimy I was, I changed my mind.

“Well, welcome to the world,” I said. “I’m Lily.”

Ahmose quirked his head at me and narrowed his gray eyes, then looked at his brother, who spoke to him in Egyptian. Ahmose nodded and said something that sounded like “Ah” before murmuring a short spell.

“I am Ahmose, the personification of the moon,” he said with a warm smile.

“Nice to meet you, Ahmose. The man you helped is your vizier, Dr. Hassan.”

“I am pleased to know you. Both of you.” He indicated politely.

“Yes…so, Asten, is there anything else, or can we get a move on? I’m worried about Amon,” I explained while Ahmose gave me a considering look.

“Yes.” Ahmose looked around. “Where is Amon?”

“We must find him quickly. The minion of the Dark One has him in his clutches at this very moment. I fear there is little time,” Asten explained.

“Then we will rescue him, Brother.” Ahmose patted Asten’s shoulder.

The three of us had just turned to Dr. Hassan, who was explaining his idea for escaping the oubliette, when suddenly Ahmose and Asten screamed, falling to their knees. The last thing I saw before Asten’s light went out was the two of them cupping their hands over their eyes, blood streaming between their fingers.