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.