“What?”
“The combination of water over fire could also mask Zia’s powers. If Iskandar was trying to hide her from Apophis…” His eyes widened. “Holy Mother Nut. Is that the crook and flail?”
“Yeah, I think.” I wasn’t sure why he acted so shocked. “Didn’t a lot of important people get buried with those?”
Bes gave me an incredulous look. “You don’t understand, kid. Those are the original crook and flail, the royal instruments of Ra.”
Suddenly I felt like I’d swallowed a marble. I don’t think I could’ve been more surprised if Bes had said By the way, you’re leaning against a hydrogen bomb. The crook and flail of Ra were the most powerful symbols of the most powerful Egyptian god. Yet in Zia’s hands they didn’t appear to be anything special. The crook looked like an oversize gold and blue candy cane. The flail was a wooden rod with three spiked chains at the end. They didn’t glow or say PROPERTY OF RA.
“Why would they be here?” I asked.
“Dunno,” Bes said, “but that’s them. Last I heard they were locked in the First Nome’s vaults. Only the Chief Lector had access. I guess Iskandar buried them with your friend here.”
“To protect her?”
Bes shrugged, clearly baffled. “That’d be like wiring your home security system to a nuclear missile. Complete overkill. No wonder Apophis hasn’t been able to attack her. That’s some serious protection against Chaos.”
“What happens if I wake her?”
“The spells shielding her will be broken. That could be why Apophis led you here. Once Zia’s out of that sarcophagus, she’s an easier target. As to why Apophis would want her dead, or why Iskandar would go to such trouble to guard her—your guess is as good as mine.”
I studied Zia’s face. For three months, I’d dreamed of finding her. Now I was almost too scared to wake her. By breaking the sleep spell, I might accidentally hurt her, or leave her open to an attack from Apophis. Even if I succeeded, what if she woke up and decided that she hated me? I wanted to believe she possessed shared memories with her shabti, so that she would remember the times we’d had together. But if she hadn’t, I wasn’t sure I could stand the rejection.
I touched the water coffin.
“Careful, kid,” Bes warned.
Magic energy rippled through me. It was subtle—like looking in the face of the water demon—but I could sense Zia’s thoughts. She was trapped in a dream of drowning. She was trying to hold on to her last good memory: Iskandar’s kindly face as he placed the crook and flail in her hands: Keep these, my dear. You will need them. And do not fear. Dreams will not bother you.
But Iskandar had been wrong. Nightmares had invaded her sleep. The voice of Apophis hissed in the darkness: I destroyed your family. And I am coming for you. Zia saw the demolition of her village over and over, while Aphophis laughed, and the spirit of Nephthys churned uncomfortably inside her. Iskandar’s magic had trapped the goddess too in an enchanted sleep, and she tried to protect Zia, calling on the Nile to cover this chamber and shield them both from the Serpent. Still, she couldn’t stop the dreams. Zia had been having the same chaotic nightmare for three months, and her sanity was crumbling.
“I have to free her,” I said. “She’s partially conscious.”
Bes sucked air through his teeth. “That shouldn’t be possible, but if it’s true—”
“She’s in serious trouble.” I sank my hand deeper into the sarcophagus. I channeled the same kind of magic I’d used to part the river, only on a smaller scale. Slowly the water lost its shape, melting like an ice cube. Before Zia could spill off the dais, I caught her in my arms. She dropped the crook and flail. Her staff and wand clattered to the floor.
As the last of the sarcophagus trickled away, Zia’s eyes flew open. She tried to breathe but couldn’t seem to inhale.
“Bes, what’s wrong with her?” I said. “What do I do?”
“The goddess,” he said. “Zia’s body is rejecting the spirit of Nephthys. Get her to the river!”
Zia’s face started to turn blue. I gathered her in my arms and raced up the slippery stairs, which wasn’t easy with Zia kicking and hitting me all the way. I managed to make it across the mud without falling and eased her down next to the riverbank.
She clawed at her throat, her eyes full of fear; but as soon as her body touched the Nile, a blue aura flickered around her. Her face turned back to its normal color. Water gushed from her mouth like she’d turned into a human fountain. Looking back on it, I suppose that was pretty gross, but at the time I was too relieved to care.
From the surface of the river rose the watery form of a woman in a blue dress. Most Egyptian gods grew weak in running water, but Nephthys was clearly an exception. She glowed with power. She wore a silver Egyptian crown on her long black hair. Her regal face reminded me of Isis, but this woman had a gentler smile and kinder eyes.
“Hello, Bes.” Her voice was soft and rustling, like a breeze through the river grass.
“Nephthys,” said the dwarf. “Long time.”
The water goddess looked down at Zia, who was shivering in my arms, still gasping for breath.
“I am sorry for using her as a host,” Nephthys said. “It was a poor choice, which almost destroyed us both. Guard her well, Carter Kane. She has a good heart, and an important destiny.”
“What destiny?” I asked. “How do I protect her?”
Instead of answering, the spirit of Nephthys melted into the Nile.
Bes grunted with approval. “The Nile’s where she should be. That’s her proper body.”
Zia sputtered and doubled over.