Recreated (26 page)

“How utterly absorbing,” Asten said soberly, but a moment later his expression lightened. He winked, a gesture Tia quite enjoyed. “If I was jealous of Amon before, I'm doubly envious now,” he teased.

I took control of my body just as Asten cupped my elbow, helping me around a large boulder.

He sees me,
Tia said in my mind.
And I quite like that cleft in his chin. Those are good qualities, I think.

Sighing, I rolled my eyes and ignored Tia's inner appraisal of Amon's brother.

Soon Asten shouted to Ahmose that we were getting close to the river.

“What river?” I asked.

“It's a waterway, actually,” Ahmose said, speaking for the first time in an hour, though he still wouldn't make eye contact with me. “It's called the Waterway of the White Hippo.”

“Is it dangerous?” I asked.

Asten stopped and waited until I looked up at him. “Everything in the afterlife can be, Lily. And everything in the netherworld definitely is. Don't forget that.”

His expression added more weight to each word, and I again thought that there might be more to Ahmose and Asten than I knew. I nodded and we made our way to the edge of a river where a small watercraft was tied. Asten aided me into the boat and had me sit while Ahmose took hold of a long pole and pushed us out into the flowing water.

Asten became our guide as we traversed the terrain. We passed out of the trees and came upon large plains full of dark waving grain. “That's the Field of Reeds,” he explained. “There are numerous crops here to provide food for the dead.”

“Are the disembodied the workers I see out there?” I asked after spying several shadowy figures stooped over the grain, collecting it into large piles.

“Those are shabtis,” he said.

“Really? Like the ones Amon summoned?”

“I would assume so. They are tied to certain gods or loaned out to overseers. Occasionally, when a heart is judged unworthy, a master who is willing may decide to allow the dead soul to serve until it is determined that their heart has changed and they are now humble. Unfortunately there isn't always a way to determine who the master is, as that is considered a private matter between god and servant.”

“So there could be shabtis here that serve Seth,” I said.

“It's a possibility,” Ahmose answered.

“It's more than a possibility. It's a fact,” Asten contradicted. Then he explained. “Any shabti that is raised from the dead to serve in the mortal realm must come from the afterlife. That means the shabti that tried to kill you and Amon came from here.”

“So Seth has eyes and ears here, too.”

“He does,” Asten said.

We floated quietly for a time and then I asked, “So, what Cherty said about you two is true? Do you torment his passengers on arrival?”

Neither of them answered at first.

Ahmose admitted quietly, “The ferryman was not…inaccurate.”

“But why?” I asked. “It doesn't seem like you to torment those who've lost everything.”

“It's not our fault,” Asten said. “Though the place we're going is called the Porch of Judgment, the dead are actually judged from the moment they set foot on the Isle of the Dead. That's why the journey is so important.”

Ahmose explained. “When a person is in our presence, our powers make them aware of all their wrongdoing. By the time their heart is weighed, they already know the outcome. Some try to escape their fate. They run or throw themselves to monsters along the way, succumbing to a second death before a punishment is meted out. Many of them would rather meet an uncertain end than end up in the Devourer's garden. I don't purposely lead them on the wrong path, but being near me makes them aware of all the flawed paths they chose in their mortality.”

“And being close to me,” Asten added, “causes them to see all the bad things they'd ever done play in their minds in a never-ending vision. If it's really bad, it can cause some of them to go mad.”

“And what about Amon?” I asked. “What happens when they are close to the revealer?”

Ahmose answered. “Because Amon has the Eye of Horus, he knows all things. When the dead are near him, they have the opportunity to see what their lives could have been had they lived up to their potential.”

“That doesn't sound too bad,” I said. “Why did Cherty say he was the worst?”

Asten answered thoughtfully. “Amon's power is the most difficult to bear because he reveals the unknown. The dead already know the wrong they've done. They remember the choices and the paths they've followed, but to see the happiness, the wonder of what they could have had, is the most trying thing for the dead to absorb.

“Seeing it and knowing they will never have it…well, let's just say that drives more of them into the mouth of darkness, seeking their second and final death, than either of our powers combined. Getting a glimpse of what could be is…at once disturbing and intoxicating…” Asten's words trailed off and when I turned to him, I found him intently watching me. At seeing my puzzled expression, he turned his eyes toward the trees.

“So if that's all true,” I asked, “then why am I not experiencing those effects?”

“It's because you're still alive, Lily,” Ahmose answered.

“But
I
am not,” Tia added, slipping into control. “I am, what is the word, disembodied.”

Asten smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. “You are a beautiful exception to the rule. Though your body is gone, you share the living body of Lily. That means your judgment is suspended until such time as you have nowhere else to go.”

“That's not going to happen,” I vowed.

“In the meantime,” he went on, “our powers won't affect you.”

At that moment the boat rocked violently and I heard the guttural call of a large animal. A surge of water spilled over the rim of the boat, a dense spray of it shooting up in the air.

“What is it?” I cried.

“They don't call it the Waterway of the White Hippo for nothing,” Asten said sardonically.

Ahmose lifted the pole and jabbed it into the ivory shape hovering beneath the water. I saw other shapes surrounding us as one large hippo lifted its head above the waterline. Its mouth gaped open, and, enraged, it bit into the side of the boat, nearly overturning us. I very quickly came to doubt the efficacy of Ahmose's pole as a weapon and lifted the bow over my shoulder, preparing to defend us.

“Stop,” Asten said, and covered my hand with his. “You cannot kill anything. Not here. These animals are considered sacred.”

“But how are we to cross if we cannot muster a defense?”

“It's a part of the judging, Lily. If they deem you worthy to pass over, you will. If not, they will jostle the boat until you fall out.”

“And then what? They chew me to bits and spit my sorry carcass out, making the riverbed my tomb?”

“They've never consumed one who was living,” Ahmose said.

“Well, that makes me feel a whole heck of a lot better.”

“It's likely they cannot judge you at this time, regardless,” Asten added.

“Let us hope for their sake that is true,” Tia said. “I have taken down a hippo before but it was not an easy kill.”

I shook my head, worried at the ease with which Tia surfaced now, and glanced at Asten, feeling the flush of embarrassment creep up my neck, but the look he gave me was not what I expected. It wasn't disgust or even pity I saw on his face. He was actually impressed.

“You must be quite a huntress to take down a beast like that,” Asten said.

Tia shrugged, or perhaps I was the one who shrugged. The lines between us seemed to be blurring, especially since we'd reunited with Asten and Ahmose. But neither of us said anything as we glanced warily over the side, watching the huge white forms surging beneath the water.

Hippo heads rose from the depths to eye us. Sometimes we saw only the rounded tops, black eyes blinking as they stared at us curiously. Other times they lifted half their bodies out of the water, which made me think the water wasn't really that deep. I couldn't imagine animals of that size floating. Tia quickly assured me that they weren't able to—at least, they couldn't in the mortal realm.

“Ah,” Ahmose said. “Even the bull wants a peek at you.”

Off to the side, a huge male hippo blew water from his nostrils, opening his mouth as he bellowed loudly. His canines and incisors were incredibly thick.

“The rest of these are his harem and offspring,” Ahmose said.

The big bull hippo he indicated sucked in a mouthful of water and spat it over us, then submerged beneath the river.

“If he's letting you pass, the rest of them will, too,” Ahmose said.

“Then why are the others sticking their heads up?” I asked.

“They probably haven't seen a living being here in quite some time,” he answered.

“That's right. I forgot you two don't count.”

“We don't,” Asten said with a twinge of sadness in his voice. “As of right now, our bodies are moldering on earth somewhere in the elaborate sarcophagi that Anubis made us.”

I stretched out a hand and placed it on his arm. “But I can still touch you,” I said. “That's something.”

“Yes. But we can't feel it.”

“You can't?” I asked, shocked.

Asten shook his head. “At least not in the way we do when we take our physical forms. I am aware of pressure and warmth but the touch does not hold as much feeling, as much sensation, as it would normally,” he said.

“But Amon can feel my touch in the netherworld. Why would it be different here?”

“Perhaps it is due to your bond,” Asten suggested.

“Maybe it can work with you, too. The three of you are bound together also. Can I try?”

“If you like,” Asten answered, curious.

He held out his hand and I grasped it. When he squeezed my hand lightly and began to rub his thumb in small circles, I opened my mind to experiencing the touch. I felt the warmth of his palm, the little hairs on the back of his hand, the lines and whorls of the pad, and even the tiny pulse of his heartbeat through his fingertips.

I used the power of the sphinx to enhance my touch even more. Soon I felt a current running just beneath my skin. It was warm and alive and I became aware of each breath that filled his lungs, the way he bit his lip, the feel of the wind on his face, and his racing heart. The scrape of his skin against mine was a pleasure more delicious to me than even the kiss of Horus had been. It was like someone rubbing the back of your neck or beneath your jaw in just the right place so that the tension in your muscles melted. I liked it. A little bit too much.

Pulling my hand from his, I gave him a weak, apologetic smile. I could still feel the tingles from where his thumb had caressed me. Looking up, I found I was momentarily caught in his melted chocolate brown eyes. Instead of his characteristic mischievous smirk, he gifted me with a small, genuine smile.

“Could you feel that?” I asked softly.

His mouth was slightly parted and it didn't take enhanced vision to see his pulse jumping at his throat. “Oh, yes,” he answered, and swallowed. “The sensation was…it was startling. I've never experienced such a thing in the afterlife.” He paused, then added quietly, “Or any life for that matter. Thank you.” He turned away.

My heart beat erratically, thoughts muddy and confused.

“We were
pleased
to touch you,” Tia admitted flatly.

Asten's smile grew, his eyes darting back up to meet mine. “I'm glad,” he said, not a drop of mirth in his words. “Feel free to practice on me anytime.”

Shifting slightly away, I asked, “How long until we get there?”

“We must pass through the burning tree first,” Ahmose said.

It wasn't long before I could no longer see the white forms in the shallow river and when we came to a wooden dock, another one where Amon did not wait for us, my heart fell. Ahmose guided us up to it and tied off the boat. When Asten got out, he turned to me and offered his hand. “May I?” he asked.

Something about the way he looked at me and wrapped his arm around my waist to steady me as I stepped onto the dock made me feel both elated and sad. He kept hold of my hand as we walked up the path and I didn't withdraw it. I knew he couldn't feel my touch unless I was channeling the power of the sphinx, but I could very much feel his, and it didn't feel like the way a brother would hold my hand.

There was a part of me that thought he could be something more if he wanted to and guilt filled me. Against my shoulder I felt the beat of Amon's heart, and I wondered if he was dreaming at that exact moment, seeing me hold hands with Asten, and if that would make him upset enough to want to give in to a second death.

Giving Asten a tiny smile, I withdrew my hand, and though he seemed to understand, I could tell he was disappointed. He wasn't the only one either. Tia's discontent filled my mind, too, though she didn't say anything. My feelings were so jumbled I was surprised I could function at all.

Ahmose led us down a path until we came to a giant tree encircled by fire, its heat washing over us.

“What do we do now?” I asked.

“You must find a way to the other side,” he answered.

“How?”

“We cannot tell you. Each soul that journeys the Isle of the Dead must find its own way.”

Letting out a breath, I nodded and headed to the right, but there was no end to the flames. Going left didn't get me anywhere either, and the longer we stayed close to the blaze, the more concerned Tia became.

We cannot make it,
she cried in my mind.
You must ask the guardians for help.

But they can't help us. They told us as much.
I craned my neck to try to see over the wall. The tall tree beckoned with thick trunks and very green leaves despite the fire surrounding it.
Maybe we can climb over it,
I suggested.