“Then if you knew who they were, why didn’t you want them to know who you are?”
We reached the tourist section as Amon was pondering my question. Not even using his hypno-power, Amon politely asked a man on the street, “Where can we find a taxi?” Not golden chariot but taxi. Amon was picking up life in the modern world very quickly.
The man pointed toward a small square.
“I have learned to be more careful from watching you,” Amon finally answered. “No matter his title, it is not wise to simply trust that a person is honest and forthright. The devious shabti was a surprising example of the need to hide our identity. We must be exceedingly cautious. Especially where you are concerned.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? And while I’m thinking of it, why are we taking a taxi?”
“Though I care little for my own life, I will not risk yours. You say you are recovered, and yet I can sense the trauma I have caused. You need time to heal. Besides, manipulating a driver is far easier than traveling by sand. It was my fault that you were exposed to the toxin in the first place, and I will not test you further today.”
“Your fault?”
“When I confronted the shabti, he blew the red dust hoping to disable me, but it did not work. My body cannot be poisoned.”
“But mine can.”
“Yes. I am sorry, Nehabet. I wrongly assumed your body would be resistant as well since we are tied together, but sadly this was not the case. To err in judgment once regarding the shabti could have been devastating, but to err twice in assuming you were safe shows a lack of clear thinking on my part. Being close to you has…distracted me. I assure you that I will make no such mistake again.”
“They say to err is human, Amon. A mistake or two just means you’re like us mortals.”
Amon looked away. “The desire of my heart is for that to be true, but alas, it is not. I am not like a mortal man, Lily, however I wish it to be the case.” Turning to me, he lifted his fingers and grazed my cheek. “Please believe I would not have put you in harm’s way had I known.”
“It’s okay. I believe you.”
Sighing deeply, Amon grasped my hand. Sensing the blame he was feeling, I tried to distract him. “Thank you, by the way, for saving me. I know it was you who kept me going. I fell asleep faster than Dorothy in the poppy fields.”
“The toxin was not a simple sleeping potion,” Amon corrected. “A little shuts down your body as if you are in a deep sleep, one that closely resembles death. If you breathe it in too deeply, are exposed to it for a lengthy time, or it seeps through a cut in your skin, it can kill you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I had to suck the poison from your body and take it into my own. I suspect this is one reason Dr. Hassan assumed I was more than a mere mortal. He knew what the toxin was, and was very careful not to come into contact with it. He used gloves to wipe it away from your skin, and then he disposed of the gloves. When he wasn’t looking I was able to remove the residual traces from your hair and clothing.”
“He knew? But he said—”
“That you would awaken.”
“Was he confident that I hadn’t inhaled too much, or did his trust reside in you?”
“Perhaps it was a combination of both.”
“So he risked not sending me to the hospital to test his theory that you were going to save my life?”
“It would seem so.”
“He’s a zealot, all right,” I murmured as a taxi pulled up. “Lucky for me his theory panned out.” Amon passed the driver Dr. Hassan’s card and spoke to him briefly before finally settling back next to me.
“What was that about?”
“Just gleaning some useful information.” He turned to look directly in my eyes. “My intention is for you to relax for the remainder of the day.”
“Um, okay. And what exactly did you have in mind?” I asked.