Reawakened (Reawakened #1)

His expression changed from peaceful to grim, and he turned away as he replied, “I do not wish to speak of it.”


“All right.” It was so strange to look at Amon and not see the warmth I’d come to know so well. “Well, how about a movie?”

“What is that again?”

“Would you like to see the modern interpretation of mummies?”

“Yes.”

We stayed awake late into the night watching film after film, pausing only for restroom breaks. I started with old school: Boris Karloff’s The Mummy. Amon’s only response when it was over was “Another.” I found myself watching his expressions more than the movies as we saw the 1999 version of The Mummy and the 2001 sequel, The Mummy Returns.

Amon frowned at scenes that were supposed to be humorous and scoffed openly at others. He fixated on costumes and backgrounds and once whispered, “I do not know this place.”

I tried to explain how the scenes were often false, created by artists who work on the computer, but he shushed me and kept watching. I nodded off during the third film and woke up near the end. “Did you like it?” I asked.

Not answering my question, he began asking his own. “Why do your people view Egypt in this way? I am made out to be a monster when my role is to save mankind from darkness. I am not evil, Lily.”

I took his hand and said, “I know that.”

“This is why you were frightened of me in the House of Muses? You thought I would consume your flesh and split your spirit self from your physical body, or cause a plague to rain down upon you?”

“Not…exactly. But I was afraid, yes.”

Amon sat back in his seat and mumbled, “The ancients were not fearful of our rising. They anticipated our awakening. Garlands were draped round our necks. We were treated as gods, princes. They offered us their love and devotion. Now we are shunned, feared, made into creatures of death and stench.

“We are at best forgotten, at worst vindictive demons. We are unknown. Unworthy. Unloved. Perhaps we are meant to waste away to nothing, to truly become the relics we are, and give ourselves over to dust and decay.”

The emotions Amon was feeling—despair, loneliness—came at me in waves and I couldn’t help but respond.

“Amon.” I cupped his hand in mine and said quietly, “I know you haven’t risen in ideal circumstances, and you’re right that your…kind hasn’t been thought of by the masses as heroes, but that doesn’t diminish what you are, who you are, or what your purpose might be. Even though the people you’ve met don’t know you, they sense something special and they gravitate toward you. Look at these flight attendants! They might not recognize you as a prince, but they still fall all over themselves worshipping you. It’s like they can’t resist. Your warmth draws them to you.”

My words made an impact. I sensed it in him as he considered what I said. Little by little, his dark thoughts dissipated, and it wasn’t long before he gifted me with a chagrined smile.

“Lily, are you perhaps a goddess residing in a modern form? You have the wisdom of one.”

I scoffed, “I’m no goddess, believe me. I’m just a good observer of people.”

“You observe, but you do not interact?”

“As a rule, no. I try not to interfere or get involved with other people’s lives.”

“Why not?”

“I suppose it would ruin the mystery.”

“For me there is nothing of the mysterious. When I focus on a person I can perceive their thoughts.”

“So you can read everyone’s mind, not just mine?” I asked.

“I have been gifted with the Eye of Horus.”

“Who exactly is Horus, and what does his eye have to do with anything?” I asked, glancing around nervously and lowering my voice.

“Do not worry, Lily. Most of the people around us are asleep, and if I wish it, they cannot hear us. I can…disrupt their hearing.”

“Like with your photo?”

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