“The far side of Duat. We’ll have to make our way to Heliopolis on foot. Amun-Ra forbids anyone to move across his lands via sandstorm.”
I nodded. “Then let’s go. We’ll feast in Cherty’s memory when we get there.”
We moved quickly over the hilly terrain until the sun set over the mountains. While Ahmose and Amon built a fire, I pulled my bow from behind my back. “Come, Asten,” I said. “Let’s hunt.”
Amon looked up with a questioning expression, but he said nothing. Ahmose wouldn’t look at us at all. Asten, however, gave me the kind of smile I hadn’t seen from him since the dream. “Yes, my devotee.”
“Cut the ‘devotee’ stuff or Tia will hunt you herself.”
“That might prove interesting.” He summoned the sand, and it formed his bow and a quiver of diamond-tipped arrows.
The night was dark. Very few stars graced the sky, but with my cat eyes, the landscape was easily visible though it was cast in varied shades of green. I found a game trail and followed it for several minutes, tuning my ears to the night sounds, until I came across a tantalizing scent, one I was already familiar with. Feeling more lioness than human, I stalked forward, pausing to wait for long minutes at a time.
I drew my bow, but then I paused, staring at the images on the shaft. They’d been foreign to me before. Mysterious. Written in a language not even Dr. Hassan knew. Even in the weak starlight, the carvings gleamed as if lit from within.
Tracing my finger along the edge, I suddenly understood its meaning. I now knew what the bow was truly for. Immediately, I thrust it away. It dropped into the grass at my feet as I stared at it in horror.
“What is it?” Asten asked as he came around the tree to face me.
He’d brought down an animal. The scent of blood was on his hands, warm and metallic. It was the smell of life and death. Normally, the lioness in me would think nothing of that. Tia appreciated that Asten was a bold hunter like she was. But the human part of me recoiled as blood from an entirely different being filled my mind.
I pointed to the shaft of the bow. “It’s hers,” I murmured softly, my voice drifting away in the breeze that lifted my hair from my shoulders.
“What’s hers?” Asten pressed.
“The bow. It’s not for a sphinx. It’s not mine or Tia’s. It was fashioned for Wasret. She’s to carry it into battle.”
I looked up into Asten’s handsome face—now shadowed, his mouth tight. “I see,” he said.
But he didn’t see. Not really. Beginning to pace, I wrung my hands as I tried to explain. “I read it. The carvings. And then it…it spoke to me. I will have to sacrifice one I love in order to slay the beast.”
“Are you sure?” he asked quietly.
“Yes.”
“Lily,” he said, moving in front of me to halt my pacing. “It will be okay.”
“No. It won’t, Asten. Don’t you get it? Wasret has a thing for Ahmose. She thinks he’s going to be her companion when all this is over. That leaves only…only Amon and…and you.”
“Maybe there’s more to it than meets the eye.”
“That’s not how Wasret works. We’ve retained fragments of her thoughts. She’s very matter-of-fact. If she’s banking on Ahmose, that means you or Amon might end up out of the picture, and she knows it.”
I waited for him to say something, but apparently he had other ideas. He studied me for a brief moment and then headed back to the stream and methodically washed his hands.
“We won’t sacrifice you, Asten,” I said, following him.
He rose, picked up the carcass of the animal he’d killed and slung it across his shoulders, then gave me a tight smile. “I know I’m not the first choice, Lily. In fact, I rather expected something like this. It was only a matter of time until the cosmos brought things back into balance.”
“What are you saying? That you want to die?”
“No. No, I don’t want to die. But I’m…I’m different from my brothers. More expendable.”
“Not to me, you’re not.”
“Be that as it may, little sphinx, now isn’t the time for us to dwell on such things. In fact, I think now is the time to eat. I’m famished. What do you say we forget this little revelation for now and head back to get some dinner cooking?”
My fellow passengers and I were irritated at the way Asten handled the news. It also bothered us that deep down that we thought he might be right. I picked up the bow, though I now hated the thing, and thrust it angrily onto my back.
Amon rose to help Asten prepare our kill when we entered the campsite. I sat down next to Ahmose with a scowl on my face. Amon and Ahmose probably thought it was Asten I was irritated with, but I was mad at myself. If it were up to me, Tia, and Ashleigh, there would be no question. We would not sacrifice any of them. And though we knew that Wasret was not us, not really, we all wondered what we had contributed to make her what she was. We felt like traitors.
How could the cosmos give us these three wonderful men as companions and then expect us to sacrifice one of them? It didn’t seem fair. Not that anything that had happened so far had been fair.
Was it fair that we’d lost Cherty? Was it fair that Tia and Ashleigh didn’t have bodies of their own and were stuck being passengers in mine? Was it fair that we three were somehow supposed to save the cosmos? No. We didn’t want any of it.
While we ate, I pulled out the hated bow and studied the markings, hoping I’d gotten it wrong. Asten didn’t feel the need to bring up my revelation to his brothers, and I figured I needed to mull it over a bit more before I told them. The beams of their eyeshine haunted me in the dark—silver, gold, and green. Which of those lights would I snuff out?
I traced my fingertips over the bow. It wasn’t a language, at least not like any on Earth, but I discerned the meaning of it, and the longer I stared, the clearer the message became. The bow had been fashioned long, long ago. Millennia ago, in fact. It had a very specific purpose, and its purpose was outlined. The bow had been created to destroy the Unmaker. The catch, and the part I couldn’t accept, was that the bow would only find its true target, accomplish the goal it was created for, after the sacrifice of one loved by its wielder, me.
Clutching the bow to the point of breaking it, I vowed that we would rather lose the battle of the cosmos than lose one of our young men. If we had to die to ensure that would happen, then so be it.
When I’d finished the promise, a tiny tickle of energy coursed through my veins. An idea came to me then, and I worked it in my mind, committing it to memory. Even if Wasret should rise again, she would remember. We hoped it would be enough.
I must have fallen asleep, because I woke with the morning sun slanting across my face, my hands clasping the bow tightly.
“Good morning,” Amon said as he crouched down and handed me a cold piece of meat. “Ahmose is seeking a path. Asten accompanied him.”
I nodded and shifted my bow to my back, only to find Amon holding my harness. “You took it off me?”
“I thought you might sleep better without your knives poking into your back.”
“I must have really been out of it not to wake up,” I said as I thrust my hands through the leather straps.
“You were,” he replied. “You didn’t even stir when I repositioned you. It was…disconcerting.”
I gripped his arm. “I’m okay. I promise.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked as he placed the bow across my back. Amon had always been able to read me easily, even before possessing my heart scarab. I peered at him, trying to discern if he was linked into my thoughts, but he’d apparently turned off the ability when he’d seen how it had made me uncomfortable. Still, it was obvious he knew something was wrong.
“No,” I answered with a heavy sigh. “At least not right now.”
He began to move away, but I put a hand on his arm to stop him. “Amon?” I asked. “Will you…” I caught my lip in my teeth and went on, “Will you teach me how to put your hea
rt scarab in a safer place?”
Amon cocked his head, studying me. “Do you mean to keep it as I do?”
“Yes.” I gestured with my hands. “Not right now, I just want to know how to do it when I’m ready.”
“I see.” He paused for a moment and then placed his hand over his heart and withdrew my gem. The sparkling jewel twinkled in his palm. I itched to examine it further. I’d not even had a chance to study the differences between his and mine, but I knew it would only be a few moments until Ahmose and Asten returned.
“To place it within you,” Amon explained, “you simply think of the person you love as you hold their heart. And what you would sacrifice to keep them safe.” Amon put the jewel next to his chest and closed his eyes. “Your body automatically absorbs the gem to protect it.” Slowly, the scarab melted into his skin. “But, Lily,” he said, once the scarab had disappeared, “after you do this, your heart will only yearn for that one other person from that time forward. This is a commitment that cannot be broken.”
I placed my hand over his heart. “And you have done this for me?” I murmured softly.
“I have. And I do not regret it.”
More than anything, I wished I could return his sweet gesture in that exact moment. To show Amon how I felt. That I was as committed to him as he was to me. But I couldn’t do it. Not yet. Instead, I offered him a sweet smile and a soft kiss. “I promise you,” I said, “that your scarab will rest next to my heart very soon.”
Amon took me in his arms and tucked my head beneath his chin as he stroked my hair.
“We’ve found a path!” Ahmose cried out as he came into camp.
I stepped away from Amon, regretting not moving away sooner when I saw the pained looks on Ahmose’s and Asten’s faces. Still, I managed to give them an encouraging smile. “Let’s head out, then,” I said. “We have much to do.”
By the afternoon, we scaled a tall peak. A terrible, familiar scent of rot and decay carried on the wind. When we reached the summit, we looked down and my breath caught. We’d been traveling through dense forests full of game. Now, seeing what lay before us, I understood why the woods had been so crowded with animals.
“It’s scorched,” I said. “What could have done this?”
The great trees and hills were blackened, and the remaining stumps stood like row upon row of marked graves. Holes pockmarked the ground where burrowing animals had tried to hide, but I could smell their burned, rotting carcasses. A dark mound shifted and moved. Then a cry rang out as a mass of writhing, winged, bat-like birds lifted from a downed creature and rose into the air.
I hissed when I recognized them. “They shouldn’t be in Heliopolis,” I said quietly, horror filling me.
“No,” Ahmose agreed. “They only appear when their mistress is close.”
“The Devourer is here,” Amon said, his voice catching.
We hadn’t enough time to talk about what she’d done to him, but I had a pretty good idea. If she was in Heliopolis, dreadful things were happening.
“But surely the gods—” I began.
“If she is here,” Asten said, “then it’s possible they’ve abandoned the city.”
We crouched behind a large stone waiting for the flapping, bat-like creatures to leave the valley. If they spotted us, they’d surely alert their mistress.
“They’re heading toward Heliopolis,” Ahmose said. “I am certain of it.”
After a brief discussion, we decided to stay on the path to Heliopolis. We’d enter the city at dark and try to discern what was going on before we made our next move. Asten used his ability to cloak us in a fog of shadows, and Ahmose hid the sun behind clouds as we made our way down the mountainside.
The closer we got to the city, the bleaker the situation appeared to be. Where there had once been gleaming buildings, green plants hanging like veils down their sides, and bridges attaching each to the other, we now saw ruined husks. It looked like bombs had been dropped all over the city. Large craters were littered with debris and stones. The great stable and the gardens of Osiris were completely leveled. Even the river, normally bright purple where it touched the shore, was nearly black, and flotsam was pushed back and forth in the wake by the beach.
There was no sign of the citizens who made the city their home. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. I knew the Devourer liked to round up people to feed on. Perhaps she’d already eaten everyone. More likely, she had them all locked up for easy amusement. Where was Amun-Ra, I wondered. How could he abandon his great city?
I looked up at the tall tower, the one Amun-Ra lived in and ruled from. It was still intact. Perhaps he was still there. Maybe he’d managed to keep the Devourer out, and he and his people had holed up inside. When I pointed up to it, they all agreed that we needed to know one way or another, so we sought out a spot we could take cover in until nightfall.
They found a half-destroyed home that must have been owned by a cobbler at one time, for there were bits and pieces of half-made shoes everywhere, as well as a pattern of different-sized soles. Asten and Amon dug around through the rubble until they each found a pair of shoes that fit. Ahmose used his waning energy to heal their bruised and sore feet, and when he was done, he sat back, panting. We’d discovered, to my dismay, that the healing Stela of Horus only worked on me.
I eyed Ahmose from where I sat and said, “Don’t you think you should tell me what you did?”
“You don’t know?” Amon asked, surprise evident on his face.
“No. He won’t say anything. All I know is that he did something to save me, and he drained himself enough that even Wasret couldn’t fix it. At least not without some thought and some serious channeling of her power.”
“It’s nothing,” Ahmose said. “Any of us would have done it. Besides, it doesn’t matter now.” His simple words spoke volumes. I knew he was no longer talking about his body’s weakness.
“It matters to me.”
Ahmose raised his eyebrow, his jaw set stubbornly, giving me a look that I understood well.
I narrowed my eyes. “Hey. Despite what you think, I didn’t betray you. If anyone was leading anyone else on, it was more you than me. At least I have the excuse of memory loss. You knew. You knew how I felt and chose to act anyway.”
“Perhaps your memory isn’t as intact as you believe it to be, love. I didn’t push you to do anything you didn’t want to do.”
“Be that as it may—”
“Lily?” Amon touched my arm, and I immediately clapped my mouth shut, feeling my face go hot. We had an audience—a very awkward one, in fact. “Perhaps you should return to your original question. Ahmose has always been skilled at distracting both me and Asten from anything he doesn’t want to tell us.”
Asten snickered softly in the other corner.
I folded my arms across my chest and gave Ahmose a very stern look.
Sighing, Ahmose lifted a knee and cupped his hands around it. “I gave up part of myself to save your life when you died from the snake bite.”
My mouth fell open, and then somehow I started speaking. “I…,” I sputtered, “I…died?”
“You were nearly dead when you hit the water. Almost every bone in your body was shattered upon impact. With the poison of Apep running in your veins, your powers were diminished to the point of being nonexistent. When the water entered your lungs, you drowned. Cherty discovered all three of your shaking souls huddled together in a corner of the ship. We had to work together to heal you and put you all back where you belonged.”
Do you have any memory of this? I asked Tia and Ashleigh. When they responded that they did not, I asked, “What did you do?”
“I fished your body out of the water, used my power to clear the liquid from your lungs, and then told Cherty to put all three of you into your body. He, of course, said he couldn’t do that. At least not without a hefty price.”
I swallowed. “What did you pay?”
“You must understand that Chert
y would have done it if he could, even without the price, but the cosmos required a balance, an exchange.”
“How much?” I asked again, trembling as I waited for his answer.
Ahmose fell silent.
When Ahmose wouldn’t speak, Amon volunteered, “He had to give up something for each of you. Do you remember the canopic jars? How they contain enough energy to sustain us when we are alive?”
I nodded.
Amon continued, “Ahmose gave up three of the four. For Tia, he gave up his mastery over animals. For Lily, he gave up his ability to pull energy from the moon. And for Ashleigh, he gave up his wings.”
I could hear Ashleigh sobbing in the back of my mind. Hot tears burned behind my eyes, too. “That’s why he can’t become the crane,” I murmured.
“Yes. It’s also why he’s so drained. He dared not give up his calling as pathfinder or his ability to heal others. And obviously, he still needed his skill in commanding the weather. But without drawing from the moon, he can barely sustain himself. All of the powers he did keep have grown weak without renewal, especially when he uses them too frequently.”
I looked up at Ahmose, who was studying his clasped hands.
After squeezing Amon’s hand, I scooted closer to Ahmose and picked up his heavy arm, draping it around my shoulders. “Thank you,” I said and kissed his cheek softly.
Ahmose sighed heavily and drew me closer so I could rest my head on his chest. “Like I said”—his chest rumbled beneath my cheek as he spoke—“any of us would have done the same thing.”
The room grew still and quiet. We must have slept, because the entire encounter felt like a dream—that is, until I woke wrapped in Ahmose’s burly arms. He blinked his eyes open and rubbed my back. Moonlight poured down on us from a broken window, and I despaired thinking of how he could no longer gather strength from its silvery beams. With an apologetic smile, I left him and went over to the gaping doorway loosely hanging from its hinges where Amon stood.
He brushed his lips against my forehead and gave me a poignant look, one that told me he understood and didn’t need any further reassurance from me. I held out a hand and he took it, clasping mine warmly in his. “Do you think it’s safe to try to sneak in now?” I asked him.