“Really? Is that why you threw us into the sandpit?” I asked.
“Not at all. You stumbled upon that on your own. How did you get out, by the way? I am curious.”
“Uh-uh. Not sharing information with the bad guy, thank you very much.” One of the ropes binding Amon finally broke. I started working on the second. “Now, if you’d like to share some information with us, I wouldn’t be opposed,” I said to the shadow. “Like why don’t you come out here and introduce yourself properly? That is, unless you prefer the title Dark Minion Necromancer of Seth, like I’ve been calling you.”
Laughter echoed through the room. “I am going to so enjoy getting to know you better, Lilliana Young.”
I broke through the second rope. “Okay, that’s creepy. Didn’t know the dark minion knew my name.”
I risked a glance back at the door to see how Asten and Ahmose were doing. But just as soon as there were only a few zombie guards left, the shadow lord shot a stream of red mist toward them. “Lily? Where are you?” they shouted.
“I’m here!” I called out, but their eyes were gleaming in the cloud like Hollywood spotlights on a cloudy evening.
“They cannot see or hear you now, which will make our exchange much more intimate. Of course, Amon is incapacitated enough that I will allow him to listen. I take such delight in that, you know.” The shadow stepped closer, and though its visage was still dark, it became obvious that he was a man and very unlike the monster zombies he’d created.
I heard a deep chanting resonate from within the red cloud, and a cloaked man stepped forward and seized my arm. His mouth was the only visible facial feature, and it was currently turned up in a suggestive leer.
The last rope hung by just a few threads. If Amon had been at full strength he could have broken it, but he just sat there, his back to me, slumped in the chair.
The necromancer priest yanked me toward him and stretched out his long fingers to caress my cheek. “Ever since my biloko demons got a taste of your flesh, I must confess that I’ve been distracted by the idea of savoring you myself.”
Narrowing my eyes, I gave him my most lethal hands-off socialite stare and channeled my best rich-girl snark. “I think I would prefer the biloko demons, if I had to choose.”
He shook me when I flashed a mocking smile. “You would not say that if you knew who I am. What I have become.”
“Really? I’m a New Yorker. Nothing surprises me.”
“Perhaps consorting with Egypt’s sons has left you…jaded. Despite that, I intend to impress you”—he smiled—“one way or another. You see, I have been remade into much more than the man I was. The power of one long dead has filled me. I am”—he paused for dramatic effect—“Apophis.” He dragged out the ending of the name with a sibilant hiss.
Wrinkling my nose as if I smelled something distasteful, I replied, “I figured as much. It explains the smell. All things considered, I’m more impressed with Egypt’s sons. You’re just a cheap imitation of a lecherous wannabe god with a crocodile fetish. Consider me unimpressed.”
“I am much more than that!” he screamed, throwing me across the room. When I landed, I rolled until I stopped with a thud against the wall. My already exhausted body didn’t want to get back up. Slowly, I rolled over in time to see the cloaked minion of Seth stalking toward me, but he was stopped by the sounds of chanting filling the air.
“No!” he screamed as he whirled around. A trembling Dr. Hassan stood behind Amon, holding the final broken rope in one hand and a small silver object in the other. “Foolish man! Do you know what you’ve done?”