Reawakened

by Colleen Houck

  “I confess I do not.”

  “Ah, then perhaps you will indulge me as we make our way to your brother.”

  “Please continue, Vizier,” Amon politely encouraged.

  “Yes, well, the goddess Isis—”

  “Who was married to Osiris,” I added.

  “That is correct. She missed her husband after he was assigned to the underworld.”

  “Wait a minute, I know this one. She tricked Amun-Ra into giving her his true name after she poisoned him.”

  “And do you remember how he was poisoned?” the white-haired Egyptologist asked.

  After a moment of thought, I snapped my fingers. “A snakebite!” When the grand vizier raised his eyebrows, obviously impressed, I waved my hand and explained, “Amon’s been teaching me.”

  “It would seem so.”

  “I remember that Isis got to visit her hubby, but what does that have to do with an adder stone?”

  “Well, the snake that bit Amun-Ra escaped and inadvertently absorbed a bit of the god’s power through its fangs. As a result, the progeny of that particular snake developed the ability to shine light in dark places. They hide themselves away in secret spots lest they provoke the wrath of the sun god once again. A true adder stone is the calcified remains of the head of one of those snakes, and when you look through its eye, you, too, can not only see in the darkness but also conceal yourself in a spot that even the sun god himself could not discover.”

  The stony object in my hand suddenly felt cold. I swallowed and let out a weak gasp as it slipped from my fingers. It lay there, pillowed in the sand, seeming to give me a snaky smile and a wink. Unable to resist, I wiped my hand on my shirt, creeped out that my lifeline in the mountain passage was a snake’s skull.

  With the torch shining on it, the stone twitched like a small dinosaur skeleton coming to life. After a moment, I realized it was simply the light dancing on the ancient bone, but the effect was still unsettling.

  Amon reached out to pick up my adder stone, but the sand shifted, spilling into a small crack in the ground that had been hidden. My stone sank along with the sand, and the crevice was too deep to fish the stone out with our fingers. Amon considered using his power to retrieve it but then decided against it and gave me a reassuring smile.

  “If we do not find another way out, we will return for it. Do not worry,” he said.

  “Er, assuming we raise your brother, I did not think to find a fourth stone for him,” Dr. Hassan said shamefacedly.

  “All will be well,” Amon said.

  I hadn’t actually been too worried, but Amon’s reassuring smile disappeared quickly, which did cause me to worry. As we followed the grand vizier down the dark corridor, I hypothesized on what was causing my mummy-come-to-life’s distress. He really didn’t seem alarmed about the loss of my stone, and surely a snake’s head didn’t frighten a demigod. There was something more going on, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

  Every few steps, Amon looked back at me with concern, and I realized he was more anxious about me than anything else. Puzzling out his mood, I wondered if things were really as bad as he believed them to be.

  Sure, I felt exhausted, and my leg and arm throbbed where I’d been bitten, but I wasn’t sick enough to be bedridden, at least not yet. I squeezed Amon’s hand and was about to reassure him when we turned a corner and came upon a sarcophagus.

  As the Egyptologist hurried forward, touching his torch to ones mounted on the wall, I took a few steps closer and got a good look at the depiction of Amon’s brother. The wooden coffin was rounded and shaped similar to King Tut’s, but where the boy pharaoh’s had been decorated in gleaming gold, the final resting place of one who actually was a demigod was humble by comparison. The artistry of the coffin, however, was worth noting.

  Like the walls of the tunnels, the side panels were decorated with symbols of the three brothers—the sun, the moon, and the stars—but the stars featured more prominently this time. I walked around the coffin and took in the images of three young men standing with a dog-faced man.

  “Who is this?” I asked.

  Amon crouched down next to me. “That is Anubis. This carving shows Anubis granting us the gifts of the gods as he breathes life into our bodies again. It is the time of our first rising.”

  “And this?” I circled around to the foot.

  “This shows the defeat of our enemy, Seth.”

  “So Seth is the horse-faced god?”

  “That is not a horse. It is a beast.”

  “Which beast?”

  “All of them and none of them.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Dr. Hassan stepped to the other side of the sarcophagus. “Set, or Seth, as Amon calls him, is a shape-shifter.”

  “Seriously?”

  Amon nodded. “He can take any form he chooses, which makes him all the more dangerous.”

  “He can become a hippopotamus or a crocodile,” Dr. Hassan said. “A black pig or a cobra.”

  “Was Seth always bent on the destruction of Egypt?” I asked.

  “He was the god of chaos from the time he was in the womb,” Amon explained. “The goddess Nut was his mother; because he was impatient, he would not wait for his time to be born. Instead, he used his already sharpened teeth and ripped his way out, escaping through his mother’s side.”

  “Power and fulfillment of his dark desires is his only purpose,” Dr. Hassan further explained. “Those who follow him care not for the lives of others. Their carnality, their bloodthirstiness, their insatiable cravings are all reminiscent of the beast they follow. Seth is a monster, and is depicted as such in drawings.

  “Assigning him an animal token would be callous, for all creatures simply follow their natural instincts. Even the most feared animals—crocodiles, snakes, scorpions—do not harm for evil purposes. This is why the ancients created a nonanimal—a beast—to show to the world what Seth truly is and to serve as a warning should he ever rise to power again.”

  “Okay, so what’s the next step?” I asked.

  “I am afraid I didn’t bring as much as I would have liked to in the way of preparation for Amon’s brother’s awakening,” Dr. Hassan said. “I have but a little food and water to refresh him.”

  “He does not need those things to awaken,” Amon replied kindly. “The spell I weave will be sufficient.”

  “But the traditional feasting, the music and festivities—”

  “That you would have provided those things had you been able is token enough of your loyalty. The offerings you have brought will sustain him for the time being,” Amon finished.

  Dr. Hassan gripped his bag and fished through its contents, pulling out a bottle of water and a wrapped pastry. Reverently, he cleared a space at the base of the coffin, spreading out a red handkerchief and placing his meager offerings on top. Seeing his distress as he rearranged the items a few times, I unzipped my bag and offered to share the fruit that Amon had stuffed into it before we left the hotel. The fruit was sad and a little bruised, but the offering seemed to please the white-haired devotee.

  Before he settled next to me, Dr. Hassan used the adder stone and ran his hand over the wall until the wall suddenly disappeared. He then dragged over a wooden crate and lifted a large jar from it.

  “Those are his canopic jars, aren’t they?” I marveled as I carefully touched one with a long-beaked bird on the top.

  Dr. Hassan nodded. “I brought them here when Amon was taken and hid them using the stone,” he explained.

  He set each jar in front of us, and I couldn’t help but be astonished that I was able to touch the ancient artifacts. In addition to the bird-topped jar, there were jars with a dog head, a human head, and the head of a ram. I wanted to ask Dr. Hassan what they symbolized, but Amon interrupted.

  “Are you ready, Doctor?” Amon asked.

  “Yes, I believe so.”

  “Uncap the jars as soon as you feel the breath of life upon your face,” Amon instruct
ed.

  “Yes, Master.”

  Amon positioned himself a few feet from the coffin and I crouched next to Dr. Hassan, who was watching Amon with a zealous rapture.

  The personification of the sun god raised his arms in the air and chanted. As he did so, the heavy top of the sarcophagus twitched on its base and rose several inches.

  Amon began weaving his spell.

  The stars rise. The stars fall. The stars die.

  As do you, my brother.

  Asten—the embodiment of the stars.

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

  Without you the sky is dark. The heavens quake with emptiness.

  The celestial realm needs your glittering glory.

  Come, Brother. Take up your quiver and your bow.

  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 Amon, the guardian of the sun.

  With the Eye of Horus I seek you out.

  You wander in darkness, bereft and lost,

  But I will light the path before you.

  Amon’s eyes glowed bright green, and an eerie verdant light illuminated the area in front of him. He moved his head as if searching for something, and the beams of light from his eyes shifted, too. Finding what he was looking for, though I could see nothing at the end of the light trail except darkness, he continued his spell.

  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, Asten! 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….

  Amon raised a hand and an eerie sound, like a monster inhaling, filled the cavern. Each puff of air traced a path back and forth on my skin. Goose bumps prickled along my arms and neck, and I nervously scanned the darkness, looking for the source of the sound. Dr. Hassan proceeded to open the canopic jars and streams of white light emerged from them, circling right above the sarcophagus. I couldn’t help but compare them to scavenger birds seeking out the dead.

  Suddenly, a fierce gust of hot wind blew my hair back. Amon raised his other hand and a second wind countered the first. Two more times he did this, and it felt as if we were encompassed in a whirlwind. It became so strong that Dr. Hassan and I had to cling to the foot of the sarcophagus to maintain our positions, but just as quickly the wind moved away from us and whirled around Amon.

  Amon trembled, arms extended at chest level, palms facing up. His limbs shook as if he were attempting to lift a weighted barbell with just the tips of his fingers. Then, when I thought he could bear it no more, the wind shifted, dipping into the coffin, and a tightly wrapped form was lifted before us.

  Yellowed bandages whipped back and forth, snapping in the air and partially unwinding from the body, revealing glimpses of decay and rot. Every mummy movie I’d ever watched played out in my mind, and I couldn’t help but scoot back several feet, leaving Dr. Hassan in a worshipful state by himself.

  Bit by bit, the wrappings peeled away and whirled around the decayed body in a maelstrom. Fragments of bandages seemed to be stuck to the skull. When an explosion of dusty particles finally freed the arms and legs, I gasped and fell back on my elbows. Coughing violently, and wondering if I was inhaling crumbling bits of Amon’s brother, I cowered in place.

  The power that Amon was channeling suddenly waned, the mummy dropping slowly back down toward the coffin as the high-velocity wind weakened. Turning my head, I saw Amon’s eyes trained on me. He was concerned, that much I could easily read, but there was something more, something else in his expression—a kind of sadness. I realized then that his power must have diminished because I’d distracted him.

  Facing forward again, I resolved to control my reactions. I needed to let the scary business of resurrecting a man who’d been dead for a thousand years play out as if I were simply watching a movie. There was nothing to be afraid of. It was all just a magic show—a trick done with mirrors and lights. Amon turned his head. His jaw tightened with renewed determination and the wind picked up again, more invigorated than before.

  Sightless orbs and a gaping mouth rimmed with teeth peeked through the wrappings as they fell away. The body was withered, shrunken—a dried husk of a man. The remaining skin was stretched tight and looked like fragments of old leather. In some places it was ripped off completely, revealing grayish bones with hanging bits of flesh. I turned away and covered my mouth with my hand, desperately trying not to vomit.

  Amon had once looked like this. How could I have wanted to kiss him? On the one hand, Amon was pretty much the hottest guy on the planet, both in the literal sense and in the good-looking-guy way. What girl didn’t want a magically gifted, undead sort-of boyfriend who could give heated massages? But I wasn’t a typical girl. I was realistic. And what was staring at me right now was a very realistic version of a decomposing, moldering dead guy whose expression was that of a man screaming as he was entombed.

  How could I ignore the powdery clumps of flesh, the rotting wrappings, and the peekaboo yellow bones? Swallowing, I turned around and caught Amon watching me again. I realized he’d likely been using his special eye-power thing to read my mind. The idea that he knew what I was thinking made me feel ashamed and bristly at the same time. Ashamed because I should be made of stronger stuff. How could I imagine myself as the girlfriend of a real-life mummy/sun god if I couldn’t handle a little rot and decay? And irritated that Amon could read me so easily. A girl had a right to her own private thoughts. I was handling everything pretty well, all things considered. I just needed a little time to wrap my head around the idea that the guy I liked looked like the body floating in the air during his off-season.

  Amon was still trembling, which made me worry that he didn’t have enough power to complete the process. Briefly, I envisioned what Amon’s brother would look like if he ended up half-formed due to Amon’s waning power, and shuddered. Thinking that I could help in some way, I rose and touched Amon’s quaking arm.

  Before I could say a word, he barked, “Get back, Lily!”

  “But I just thought you might need—”

  “You are mistaken,” he hissed angrily. “I do not need you. Please stay by Dr. Hassan for your own protection.”

  “Amon…” I began, but then I saw the set of his jaw and felt the tightness in the muscles of his arm. He refused to look at me.

  Resigned, I resumed my position by Dr. Hassan and wondered what I’d done to make Amon so angry. After I was settled, he began chanting again.

  Ibis—give flight to his spirit

  And ease his passage.

  When Amon mentioned the ibis, a pinprick of white light formed in the darkness and traveled slowly around the room until it found the glowing green path created by Amon’s eyes. Bathing itself in Amon’s gaze, the light grew and spread until it became clear that the form was a bird, similar to Amon’s falcon. This bird, however, had a downcurved bill that was a little bit longer than its tapered, thin neck. It beat its wings, hovering in the air near Amon, who nodded and said, “Welcome, Brother.”

  One by one, the four white lights that had come from the canopic jars merged with the flying creature. The bird cried out, circling over our heads, and then folded its wings and shot into the whirlwind. It burst into fragments of light that were sucked into the empty eye sockets of the mummy. The mummy’s wrappings floated momentarily, as if seeking a way to remain airborne without the wind, and then sank slowly to the cavern fl
oor like little kites with a broken string. For a moment, all was silent.

  Then a white gleam lit up within the mummy, spilling out of its orifices and bones. The body shivered and moved. Bones aligned and twisted, cracking as they shifted. The skull turned to Amon and then faced me and Dr. Hassan. Its jaw clacked shut, and its arms unfolded and rose into the air. The mummy looked like a Vitruvian man made of starlight. I fought to suppress a scream. Amon resumed chanting.

  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, Asten, and fulfill your destiny!

  The light emanating from the mummy intensified, radiating heat like a supernova as the discarded wrappings rose into the air, circling around it faster than before. The brightness coalesced, forming veins and a heart that beat forcefully. Then the light wrapped around the bones, thickening until it formed radiant muscles.

  The light became so bright I had to cover my eyes, while my own heart pounded in answer to the audible beat of the mummy’s. Pain lanced through me and I screamed and blacked out.

  When I opened my eyes, the glare had finally faded. Head aching, I pressed my hands against my eyes and took deep breaths to clear the nausea. I heard Dr. Hassan move. He fell to the dirt floor and exclaimed, “I am honored to be in your presence, Great One!”

  Hyperaware of the sounds around me, each one pounding in my brain, I heard the crunch of sand, some softly murmured exchanges in Egyptian that quickly morphed into English, and then footsteps coming my way. Through the gaps between my fingers, I saw a pair of bare feet stop in front of me. Amon had been wearing shoes, so unless he’d somehow lost them, there was no way those two feet belonged to him. Fleshy toes drummed in the sand, and I heard a laugh.