“But I’m okay. Your brother got me out in time. He used his star magic or whatever.”
Amon said nothing as he touched my neck, and I could tell he was attempting to assess my injuries. I pushed his hand away softly but insistently. “Hey. I want you to stop worrying about me so much. I can promise you that if I really were that close to dying, I’d know it. We need you focusing more on this ceremony, don’t you think? It’s almost the full moon. We don’t have much time left.”
Clenching his jaw as if saying nothing required a monumental effort, Amon nodded. We started to make our way to where Asten and Dr. Hassan stood, but when I sucked in a breath from the sting of the bite wound radiating up my leg, Amon scooped me up in his arms and carried me, warming my body with his power. I knew he couldn’t spare any of his remaining energy and was planning to protest, when he murmured in my ear, “Do not think to deny me in this, Nehabet. At the very least, allow me to do what I can for you.”
Remembering Amon’s tendency to blame himself and feel the need to help me, I settled back and enjoyed being close to him, figuring I’d return the favor later.
The intense sun directly overhead invigorated Amon, and his skin absorbed the light. As I stared at his handsome human face, I thought how silly it was that I had been so frightened before at the idea of falling in love with a mummy.
Amon couldn’t help what he was. He didn’t ask to be a hero of Egypt, let alone allow his body to rot for centuries. He was just a man caught in a celestial game—a powerful pawn the gods moved across the board and sacrificed for their own purposes.
I decided I would try to find a way to get Amon and his brothers out of this. But first, we needed to rescue the third brother. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn’t even register everyone else standing in a silent circle, staring down at something.
“What is it?” I twisted to see what they were all gaping at. Amon accommodated me and turned so that I had a better view. What I saw made me suck in a shaky breath. Lying before us on the sand was a man. Burned, abused, and bleeding, with one eye ripped out, broken limbs, and bones protruding in several places, yet still he breathed.
“Master?” The man coughed drily, his spilt blood congealing in clumps of hot sand. Amon pressed me toward Asten, but I wriggled enough that he changed his mind and set me down instead. Amon crouched and touched the man’s shoulder.
“I am here. Anubis sent you,” Amon said. It wasn’t a question but a statement. The man nodded. “What happened to you?” Amon asked, and in that moment, I recognized the broken form. It was the tall shabti who had been sent to find the god of the moon.
Apparently, he, at least, had been faithful. I sank down next to Amon, stretching my injured leg out alongside the man’s.
“It”—he swallowed painfully, and my heart hurt as I saw that several of his teeth had also been broken—“it was the Dark One.”
“He found you and injured you? Tortured you for information?”
The shabti shook his head and even that slight movement caused him to whimper. “He did not want infor…” He wheezed. “Information.”
“Then what did he want?” Asten asked, sympathy coloring his expression.
“To stop the ceremony and to give you a mess…message.” Tremors rippled through the man’s body as he started seizing. Amon looked up at his brother, who nodded and lifted his hands, speaking in Egyptian and casting a spell over the shabti. Whatever Asten did seemed to help. The shaking stopped, and the shabti’s one eye cleared somewhat.
“What is the message?” Amon asked kindly.
Fervor lit the face of the servant, and he gasped as an invisible power lifted his torso. His broken arms dangled at his sides, his eye rolling back until all that could be seen was a white gleaming orb positioned alongside the empty socket next to it.