“There is a spell that will weaken if not destroy Apophis.”
“And you hope it will work on Sebak?”
“Yes. I will need your help to construct it.”
We arrived at the bottom of the stairs and stopped in front of a heavy door. Osahar took a key that hung from a chain around his neck and fit it into the ancient lock. I was almost afraid it wouldn’t turn because the lock was so old, but the key worked and the door opened without even a squeak. Inside the large room were a worktable and a giant dresser-sized glowing rock.
Pressing my hands against the rock, I found it warm, but it didn’t burn me. I could feel a hum of energy coming from it. Old parchments and books lined handmade shelves, and various tools, both modern and ancient, hung from a pegged wall.
“Did you make this space?”
Dr. Hassan shook his head. “I have added to it over the years, but this has been here since the time of Amon’s birth.” He pointed to one tunnel and then another, in a different corner. “These underground passageways connect to the pyramids and even run beneath the Sphinx. It is how we viziers recover the bodies of the brothers when their time on Earth has elapsed,” he finished quietly.
“Oh.” Though I knew that Amon had to die so that he could rise again, the idea that his body would be recovered and painstakingly preserved was disturbing. I had a sudden urge to rush out to his tour bus and beg him not to go through with it. But instead of giving into my emotions, I reminded myself that I was just a mortal girl who had journeyed for a time, however brief, with gods come to life. Who was I to judge whether their task was a worthy one and whether the sacrifices made were justifiable?
I didn’t know yet what Osahar had in mind for me, but if there was something I could do to make what Amon had to endure easier, then I was willing to see it through. “What do you need me to do?” I asked.
“Take these bags and form a body.”
“Like a scarecrow?”
“Exactly.”
Reaching into the bags, I found a pair of pants, rope, a knife, and several pillows of different sizes. As I stuffed smaller pillows down the pant legs, Dr. Hassan cut into the large pillow and placed a tool and a comb inside. “These belonged to Sebak,” he said.
After we’d dressed the makeshift scarecrow, Dr. Hassan handed me a very gaudy crocodile-skin jacket. “Is this real?” I asked.
“He is part crocodile now. To minimize his power we must destroy every part of him.”
“So what’s the spell?” I asked as Dr. Hassan finished preparing a potion.
“It is more of a ritual than a spell. Is the effigy ready?”
“I think so. It’s just that you have more clothes and a fedora in the bag. Did you need more layers?”
“No. Those are for later. Please bring the remaining bag. I will carry the effigy.”
Dr. Hassan picked up a mallet and a weighty-looking metal rod, then hefted up the effigy. He led me through one long tunnel after the next. Finally, we climbed another set of stairs, which seemed to go on forever. When we emerged we were on top of an ancient structure. The sun had just set and the orange sky was slowly turning purple.
“Where did everyone go?” I asked, surprised to see the previously crowded valley as deserted as a church on Monday.
“They are here,” Dr. Hassan said. “Like I said, when the sons of Egypt set foot on the soil surrounding the pyramids, the people in the vicinity immediately depart. They are suddenly distracted or they remember they have to be somewhere. I have a theory that it has something to do with the energy the brothers give off.” He sighed. “There are so many questions I wish to ask. If only there were time. The scientist in me mourns the limited amount of time I have to be among them, but the vizier in me is grateful to have had even that.”
I could identify with his mixed feelings.