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.