“Yes, you are very pretty, Asten. Normally. You are not now, of course, since you are covered in filth. It is too bad this dungeon does not have a mirror so you could check your appearance. I know how proud you are of it. I am sure you would be devastated to see your current state.”
“Bah! Perhaps we should have left you to your eternal sleep a bit longer. You are as moody as a wrinkled fishwife. Is this about what happened with those devotees at our last rising? It was not entirely my fault, you know.”
“Ah, Asten. You cannot help but draw all the attention to yourself.” Ahmose felt along the cracks in the door with his fingertips. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he seemed to lend only half of his attention to arguing with his brother.
“All it takes to gain a woman’s notice is to listen to her,” Asten said.
“I listen. I was just not blessed with the skill to beguile women with my words like you were. Couple that with your handsome face and no woman even notices my presence.”
“I’d notice you,” I said offhandedly. “And I think you’re both very handsome. Any girl would be lucky to gain the interest of either one of you.”
Asten grinned. “Your beauty is eclipsed only by your rare level of wisdom.”
Shaking his head, Ahmose said, “Do you see how he uses his tongue to shamelessly flatter women? Please reassure me by saying you would not fall for his common tricks.”
“Um…” Ahmose had moved to the other side of the door and was investigating every knobby bump in the wood as I spoke. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about how Asten uses his tongue.”
Asten winked at me and Ahmose froze, his face turning bright red as he said, “I apologize. I did not think how my meaning could be misconstrued.”
“No problem.” I found Ahmose’s discomfiture charming. It was refreshing, especially in such a big, self-assured man. When he glanced at me shamefacedly, I offered him a wide smile, which seemed to make him relax a bit. He turned back to the door.
“Ah, I have found the path,” Ahmose said. “Now, if you would kindly stand back, I will see if I can make a way for us to escape. I would ask you to help, Asten, but I would not want you to muss your hair.”
Asten folded his arms. “I do not have any hair. And neither do you. Your skull is as bare as a goose egg, which is just as well since your hair never looked as good as mine anyway,” he said, obviously not wanting the playful exchange to cease.
Ahmose sighed, but there was a smile on his face as he said to me, “It is true. He is the most handsome of us, which is miraculous considering how often I have punched the smug snake charmer in the face.” Over his shoulder he said, “I’ll give you your millennial welcome-back-to-the-world-of-the-living beating after we rescue Amon.”
“I look forward to it,” Asten said, openly grinning. “Now get the door open.”
“Yes, Brother.”
Ahmose whispered a spell in Egyptian, touching the pad of his thumb to a circular knot on the wooden door. Silvery light moved from his thumb into the wood, leaving gleaming trails of different sizes over the surface like roads on a map.
The light grew brighter and brighter as the door shook. Ahmose stepped back and wrapped an arm around me, turning my face halfway to his chest. “Cover your eyes,” he said. I did, but peeked through the cracks in my fingers.
The shaking grew fiercer and then the door exploded, sending fragmented chunks, like broken puzzle pieces, ripping through the air. When it was over, I asked, “How did you do that?”
Ahmose tilted his head. “I am the pathfinder,” he said simply.
“But that’s not a path. It’s a door.”
“Yes. I found the path of weakness in the door.”
“Amazing!” Dr. Hassan said.
We stepped through the doorway and emerged from an abandoned building a few blocks from the temple. Suddenly, I became light-headed, from lack of sleep, almost dying, not eating anything substantial for a few days, or a combination of the three. I stumbled over a piece of door and Asten caught me. “Ahmose,” he said, “is there anything that can be done to sustain her?”