“When is that?” I asked.
“Tomorrow evening,” Ahmose said. “The stars will be aligned and the gateway that bars the Dark One from returning to Earth will be open for a short window of time. Our job is to build a barrier powerful enough that he cannot cross during this interim.”
Dr. Hassan said, “It is early morning now. That gives us approximately forty hours. But is it even possible to stop him?”
“With Amon, yes,” Asten said.
During this conversation, I’d never left Amon’s side. He remained unconscious, but I kept my hand wrapped around his arm, hoping to feel a little trickle of my energy leave me to fortify him. But there was nothing, no sign of life other than his shallow breathing. “Let’s heal him, then,” I said, ready to make the necessary sacrifice.
“Not here.” Ahmose stepped forward and picked up Amon, slinging him over his shoulder. “We need a place we can rest, and we will all need to feast so we can be at our strongest tomorrow night.”
“We can go back to my home,” Osahar suggested.
Asten shook his head. “I would assume that your assistant knows where you live.”
“Yes,” Oscar replied sadly.
“Then we need another place,” Asten said.
I rubbed my sticky arms. The idea of a feast, a shower, and a long nap was so very appealing. “Didn’t we pass a hotel on the way to—?”
My comment was interrupted by the sound of a deep rattle and a hiss. Something had riled up the zombies even more than they already were, and I suddenly remembered the arc of power that Sebak had sent out just before he disappeared. The unmistakable scrape of claws on stone and the clank of armored limbs resounded in the air.
“Sounds like the biloko are back. Can we sandblast our way out? Or maybe use Asten’s firefly-cloud thing?” I asked after surveying the room and finding there wasn’t another door.
“We need to conserve our strength for the ceremony and healing Amon,” Asten said. “Seeing the state he is in, I would like to avoid any unnecessary expenditures of power. If we have no other choice, we will do what we must, but for now I suggest that we fight our way through.
“Lily,” he continued, “stay behind Ahmose. I will take the lead. Dr. Hassan, you will flank me, and then Ahmose and Lily will follow. Do you understand?”
Nodding, I reached out and picked up the only weapon I could find—one of the scalpels that had likely taken Amon’s eye—and tried to ignore the bloodstains on it.
Asten still had his weapon, so he raised his bow and aimed a sparkling diamond-headed arrow at the door, which was buckling under the weight of the many creatures trying to get in. With Dr. Hassan gripping the silver handle of Ahmose’s battle-ax and Ahmose with the cudgel in one hand and supporting Amon with the other, we prepared to make a run for it.
The door banged open and a heap of undead fell into the room looking for us.
Asten took out three in quick succession, while Ahmose beat another two so hard they twirled in a mass of limbs and fell to the side. Grabbing Dr. Hassan, Asten shoved him ahead. Eager to vacate the zombie-filled room myself, I pressed close to Ahmose, Amon’s hair tickling my cheek, and followed.
Ahmose slammed the door shut and, risking a small use of his power, ran his thumb along the seal. “They will not escape now,” he said.
When he finally shifted, giving me a view of what lay ahead of us, I froze.
I had been expecting invisible biloko demons. Their bites were painful, but not being able to see them kind of helped. What waited for us were definitely not biloko demons and not zombie soldiers, either.
Moving stealthily closer was a horde of snapping crocodiles. What’s more, it looked like half of them were missing pieces. Some even had wrappings. “Seriously? Croc mummies?” I called out.