“I still don’t trust him.”
A faint red light appeared, floating like an ethereal mist. It scattered when I ran my hand through it, but then the particles drew back together to form a loose beam that drifted down one of the dark corridors.
Amon smiled. “There. I told you, he can be trusted. He has left us a trail. Come, Lily.”
I took Amon’s outstretched hand and he led me through several passageways. Very soon, it became obvious to both of us that we were going in circles. Amon’s mood darkened and he tried summoning the errant shabti to return, with no luck. Despite the warning bells going off in my mind, Amon attempted to trivialize the shabti’s no-show and reassure me that the servant must have been restrained from coming. I, however, believed differently.
“Amon?”
“Yes, Lily?” he said as he took my hand to help me down a series of stone steps.
“Why is it that the shabtis can zoom off in a cloud of smoke and find your canopic jars and you can’t?”
He gave me a sidelong glance. “It would drain my power and then I would need to replenish it with your energy. I have used too much already.”
“Don’t the shabtis draw on your energy?”
Amon shook his head. “They have stores in reserve, and when that is used up, they will return to where they came from.”
“So they’re running on batteries?”
“I do not understand ‘batteries.’?”
“Never mind. It’s just that it seems a little cruel to summon them, use them up, and then throw them away. Even if I don’t like them very much.”
“I do not throw them away. They simply return to the state they were in before. It is the way of things.”
“Sometimes it’s okay to question the way of things, you know.”
Amon grunted noncommittally and then raised his head and inhaled a deep breath. “Something is wrong,” he murmured, and his eyes snapped wide open. “Lily, run.”
“What?”
“Run!” he shouted as he twisted to look at the top of the steps.
There was no visible end to the stairs, yet Amon rushed down them headlong, pushing me ahead faster than I thought possible. I heard nothing, but Amon seemed sure that something was coming, and I knew it would behoove me to trust him. I rushed down the steps as best I could but frequently lost my footing, sliding on the sand-covered stone.
Amon glanced behind us again, continuing to press me ahead. He followed close on my heels, and then I heard it, a soft gurgle, like running water.
Risking a glance back, I saw a viscous flood making its way down the stairs. Popping and hissing noises filled the cavern and I realized that the color of the fluid was not natural. Whatever it was, it wasn’t water. It was much thicker, and its hue was suspiciously similar to that of the shorter shabti’s trail of light. When the fluid got close enough to come into contact with Amon’s heels, he howled and scooped me into his arms.
Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my body against his as he leapt from the steps toward a ledge that was entirely too far for a human to navigate. But just as I feared we’d fall to our deaths, he summoned a wind that blew us the rest of the way.
Amon landed, but the wind, still blowing powerfully, propelled us toward a rocky obstruction. Spinning his body at the last minute, Amon smacked into the cavern wall, taking the brunt of the collision on his side and back and protecting me from the impact.
Still cradling me in his arms, Amon slowly slid down the wall groaning in pain. I ran my hand over his bruised shoulder.
“Is it bad?” I asked.
Amon shook his head. “I will endure it.”