Reunited, Page 2

  “Fairy? Anubis? What exactly is going on here?” Nana demanded. “Lilypad, are you all right, honey?”

  “The one you refer to as Lilypad is here. It is as Hassan has described. Her mind is fragmented. She is like a river after a rainstorm—clouded with silt. I can only hope that with time she will return to normal.”

  The man rubbed his jaw. “Yes, perhaps,” he said.

  “How can you speak of normal when she has a split personality?” Nana demanded. “Tell me exactly what is going on!”

  The Egyptologist was about to speak when a new voice, like ethereal musical smoke, echoed around us. “Perhaps you will allow me to explain,” it said.

  My head moved and fixed itself on a pinpoint of light that grew steadily in the center of the room. I heard a soft gasp from Nana when a beautiful woman with moonbeam-blond hair as smooth and straight as a frozen pond stepped through a glowing doorway. The lighted background diminished around her, but there was still a brightness that never left her form.

  “Who…who are you?” Nana asked. She looked to Hassan, but he just stared at the woman in awe.

  She’s a blinkin’ fairy like me! the fairy voice said.

  “Clearly, she is not,” Tia answered. “Do you not recognize a goddess when you see one?”

  A goddess? I thought with an inner snort. That’s crazy. And I knew crazy. New Yorkers saw crazy every day—guys dancing on the street in Lady Liberty dresses, women jogging in heels, food trucks that looked like cheeseburgers, dogs as fashion accessories. But this was next-level stuff, my-boyfriend’s-an-alien kind of crazy.

  If I hadn’t seen the woman magically appear, I would never have believed it. Even with photographic evidence. Whoever she was, the woman was as out of place on my grandmother’s farm as a chocolate cupcake was at the gym.

  She is a fairy, the voice continued in a manner I was sure only I, and Tia, could hear. I’d bet my tree house on it.

  “She is not,” Tia said vehemently, using what I decided to call her outside voice. “She is the sister of Isis.”

  “Nephthys!” the man said as he immediately bowed. “It is an honor.”

  With a kind expression, the goddess put her hand on his shoulder. “The honor is mine, Hassan.” Turning, the beautiful woman approached Nana. “And you must be the esteemed guardian of our Young Lily.”

  “I…” Nana swallowed, the forgotten shotgun hanging limp in her grip. “Yes. I’m Lily’s grandmother.”

  “Good. There is much for the two of you to do.” Her smile took in both of them. “It is up to you to train Lily. There isn’t much time. Even now, Seth has broken free of the obelisk. He is still shackled, but his minions heed his call. Without Lily coming into her full power, I’m afraid all will be lost.”

  “What will be lost?” Nana asked.

  “The grand vizier Hassan will tell you everything. I cannot remain here. Seth seeks Lily, and though I am shielded by her presence, even an adder stone of her ability cannot hide me from my husband for too long.” Nephthys pressed a rolled parchment into Hassan’s hands. “Are you familiar with the stories of Hecate? The maiden, the mother, and the crone? The furies? Sirens?”

  Hassan nodded hesitantly. “They are not my particular specialty, but I know of the things you mention.”

  “That is good. You are aware that Lily has taken on the power of the sphinx.” She ignored Nana’s gasp and continued, “She is to become Wasret. The concept of who and what Wasret is has been purposefully left vague in Egypt’s history. We did this to keep her safe from Seth. However, there are many references to a triple goddess peppered throughout the stories of antiquity. We have placed these things throughout history specifically to hide them from Seth and for you to draw upon. Use this parchment as a guide. Study all of these stories, for they will give you clues as to Lily’s potential and power.”

  Nephthys walked over to me and placed her hand on my cheek. “Wasret is of vital importance. I’ve been waiting for her to come into being since the dawn of time.” She placed a soft kiss upon my forehead and turned around to face the others who stared in our direction with mutual expressions of shock. “Lily has not yet taken on the mantle of what she is to be. You must help her accomplish this. Fix what ails her. Reunite her with those she loves. They will help her overcome the beast.

  “Even now, the battle of Heliopolis begins. I wish we could give you more time, but I fear that is the one thing beyond even our power. Good luck to you,” she said with a tinge of sadness in her voice. “Good luck to all of us.”

  With that, the goddess raised her hand in a flourish, and a brightly lit gateway appeared. When she stepped through, it vanished with an explosion of color, and she was gone. In the electric aftermath of the goddess’s visitation, the three of us remained silent. The only sound in the room was our breathing.

  Then the unmistakable cry of Bossy broke the tension.

  “Well, now,” Nana said. “It looks to me like there’s more to this than I originally thought.” Turning to me, she said, “Tia, is it?”

  “Yes,” I answered.

  “You promise me my Lily is safe?”

  “Yes. She is here with me and is listening even now. But she is confused.”

  “As are we all, my dear. Do you perhaps know how to milk a cow?”

  My nose wrinkled up. “I can access Lily’s memories of the undertaking.”

  “Good. Then you get out there and finish up with Bossy. And you”—she pointed to the man—“put that dusty hat on the stand by the door and wash up. I’m making pancakes.”

  The man nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Nana put her rifle back in the same spot she’d retrieved it from and started whistling. She then tied on her apron as if it were a normal day on the farm.

  When we got back from milking Bossy, the man was sitting at the table with Nana, a bowl of scrambled eggs between them, and a stack of pancakes high enough that I was sure there was no way the three of us could make a dent. I was wrong.

  My appetite was voracious. It was like I hadn’t eaten in weeks. Also, the persons inhabiting my body kept making strange comments like “The eggs would be better raw” and “The syrup is like the juice of honeybees.” I dipped my tongue into the glass of warm fresh milk like a very satiated kitten with a bowl.

  Normally, I couldn’t force myself to drink it warm; it was a little too close to the musky animal for my comfort. Today, though, I lapped it up and licked the sweet cream from my lips with a shudder of deep-rooted pleasure.

  When our breakfast was finished and Tia, who was still in control, stumbled through washing the dishes, the man named Hassan took out the parchment and spread it on the table.

  “Now then,” he said. “Shall we begin?”

  Nana cleared her throat. “Perhaps we should start over again,” she said and then held out her hand. “My name’s Melda.”

  “Call me Oscar,” the man replied as he gripped her hand and offered her a warm smile. “Pleased to meet you, Melda.”

  If I had been in charge of my body, I would have frowned at the slight blush that stained the man’s cheeks when he realized he’d been holding her hand just a few seconds longer than was necessary.

  “Now then, I think I should begin by giving you the…What was it? Oh yes, Reader’s Digest version of events.”

  He then proceeded to tell the most fantastic tale of mummies, a necromancer, an evil soul-sucking she-devil, goddesses, and much, much more. As he continued his story, my inner voices listened with rapt attention, making little comments and adding their own two cents when he arrived at the parts where they came into the picture.

  Everyone sounded very sure that the incredible things he described had actually happened. I couldn’t believe it. It just didn’t sound like me. Why would I leave New York to follow a mummy? To traipse through deadly tombs filled with traps and fight zombies? Then I sacrificed my life just so he could save the world? I must be more altruistic than I thought.

  Apparently, I was t
hen willing to save the world again by heading into hell, or, I guess, the netherworld, to find this mummy guy and bring him back to the afterlife so he can keep doing his day job. Of course, his day job does sound pretty crummy. Only two weeks to be alive, and then he has to die to keep this evil god in prison, which clearly didn’t work, since he was out and was waging war.

  It was a good story, and the voices inside my head believed it was absolutely true, but something felt off. What was the motivation? Why would I leave and do all these things? How could I be a goddess? Or a sphinx or whatever? I was no warrior.

  When Tia sensed my doubt, she stopped the conversation and said, “Lily needs to see something.”

  Oscar and Nana nodded and proceeded to follow me outside. Tia stopped near the barn, set up a bale of hay, and asked Hassan, “Do you have our weapons?”

  He nodded and retrieved a pack from a place in the barn. “I hid them here after Anubis left.” Opening the pack, he handed me a bow and a quiver of arrows and then set down a harness with two wicked-looking crisscrossed knives protruding from the top.

  “I think we’ll try the bow first.”

  With an unexpected smoothness that would come only from years of training, my fingers nocked an arrow, drew back the string, and let the arrow fly with a twang. The arrowhead sunk into the bale of hay with enough power that a puff of straw clouded the air. If I’d had control of my body, I would have clapped for her.

  My voice sighed. “Lily believes the skill comes from me,” Tia said.

  Perhaps the knives? the Irish fairy suggested.

  With a shrug, my fingers stretched out and picked up the harness. I whipped it across my shoulders, quickly strapping it into place. Without even thinking, I ran, leapt over a water trough, yanked the knives from behind my back, and did a wicked martial arts maneuver. I tumbled, pressed buttons on the knives that elongated them into spears, and thrust them toward Nana’s garden scarecrow. The straw filling in its chest exploded outward, raining down in golden tufts that drifted gently to the ground. The fallen victim collapsed in a heap of cast-off rags.

  Wow! I thought. That was amazing! Good for you!

  We would be even more powerful if you joined us, Lily, Tia growled.

  Joined you? Umm…I’m already here. Stuck with you guys, so to speak.

  This power isn’t ours alone. We share it with you. In fact, you already had it before I came on board.

  I’m pretty sure I’m not the one doing these things, I said. Actually, I’m not even sure why I’m talking to you. You’re just manifestations of my crazed state. This is probably all an elaborate dream, and I’ll wake up in a hospital at some point with a hopefully very handsome young doctor who will tell me I’ve finally come out of whatever caused this hallucination and he’d like to ask me out. With any luck, it will end up being just a really bad bump on the head.

  Another growl rumbled in the recesses of my mind, and I was frightened. I’d angered Tia. How dare you! she said. You make light of our achievements. Our sacrifices. If you don’t believe in our abilities, believe in this!

  My hands were brought up so I could see them clearly, and then I watched in horror as the fingers elongated, forming claws with an extra knuckle. My eyesight sharpened, and I focused on a tiny bug that was crawling over one of Nana’s tomato plants. I could even see the little cilia on its back. There was a pop, and I could hear the rustle of leaves though there was no wind blowing through the big tree behind the barn. I then heard the scratching of an animal deep underground as it dug. I sniffed the air to realize that animal was over a mile away.

  I panicked and tried to press my palms to my eyes, but I still couldn’t move. I looked down at my hands and was horrified by what I saw. No, no, no! I screamed over and over again, unable to look away but desperate to do so.

  “She is frightened,” Tia said forlornly. “She cannot accept what we are. I fear all is lost.”

  “Nothin’s lost until it’s dead and buried,” Nana called out, her voice resonating with steely conviction. “And even then, I’m not so sure.”

  She came around in front of me and put her hands on my shoulders. They rested there, warm and heavy and reassuring. “Now, Lilypad, you listen to me.” It was comforting having her there, hearing her familiar voice. It was a speck of normalcy in an ocean of confusion. “I understand that this whole thing is a bit disturbing, but I cannot accept a world where you’re shut off from me. This is a mighty strange thing, to be sure, but the women of the Young family buck up and do what’s necessary. It doesn’t surprise me a whit that you’ve saved the world twice over. The granddaughter I know never walked away from what was important, and this sounds pretty important.”

  Nana stroked my cheek and then patted it lightly. “What’s more, I suspect the young man you loved and lost was the one you went to save, now, wasn’t he?”

  She peered into my eyes for confirmation, but even if I had known the answer, I couldn’t have moved my lips to form the words. For some reason my two inner voices were silent on the matter.

  “Hmph.” Nana grunted and looked at Oscar, but he just shrugged and raised his hands as if unwilling to comment on the subject either. “All right, Lilypad. I’ll give you some time to think on it while I get to know these other two girls visiting with you and we decide what to do next.”

  She made it sound like I was having a slumber party and she was laying down the ground rules.

  “But I fully expect you to make every effort to come to terms with the situation. Denial is a river in Egypt. It has no place on my farm.” She sniggered at her own joke and then noticed that nobody else was laughing. She squeezed my shoulder, a hint of apology and worry in her eyes. “The sooner we figure out this mess, the sooner I will get my granddaughter back.”

  A crack of thunder boomed overhead, and a brisk wind blew back the hair from my face. Dark purple clouds churned across the sky like a speeding herd of desert horses. Stinging raindrops hit the ground, followed quickly by hail. The sound was deafening. I wanted to cover my head with my arm, but the one in charge of my body lifted her face and sniffed. “What is it?” she asked.

  “The battle of Heliopolis has begun,” Oscar whispered.

  “Come on,” Nana said. “Let’s get you inside.”

  After we finally managed to shut the banging door, we crowded around the little kitchen table, all three of us peering at the window speckled with rain, the fat drops blurring everything outside. Hail pummeled the roof so hard I winced, hoping the storm wouldn’t rip off the shingles.

  Oscar cleared his throat and turned away from the rattling window with determination. “There’s nothing we can do about that right now. Our job is to help prepare Lily.”

  “And what exactly are we preparing her for?” Nana asked.

  “She needs to come fully into her power. Only then can she defeat the evil one.”

  “Defeat? And how would that happen exactly?”

  “There are many things I do not know, but take heart. As you saw, she is perfectly capable of acting the part of a warrior.”

  “Yes, but…”

  Oscar placed his hand over Nana’s. “She is the world’s only hope. We must help her to believe. The rest will work itself out.”

  Nana put her other hand over his. “That’s what my late husband always used to say.” She offered him a watery smile, patted his hand, and then swiped her hair back, tucking the flyaway wisps into the bun at the nape of her neck. “Okay, then, where do we begin?”

  “I suggest we start by translating the scroll. Would you be so good as to take notes?”

  Nana nodded and pulled her to-do list off the refrigerator, tacking the top sheet back onto its white surface and then bringing the pad and pen back to the table. Only Nana would think she still needed to hold on to her shopping list when the apocalypse was coming.

  This really was Nana. What was happening to me was no dream. It was real. They were right. I could either fight against it—kick against the pricks, to us
e a saying Nana often quoted—or I could buckle down and try my best to make sense of it all. As Oscar began to translate and Nana took notes, I paid close attention.

  “This passage refers to the Furies. They possess the key that unlocks the storehouse where Zeus’s thunderbolts are kept. They travel the night sky singing of justice as the light of the moon marks their path. The wicked hear the voices of the daughters of the earth and know that when their song ends, the windless quiet of death comes for them. They are forever linked to the gods of the sun, the moon, and the stars, and when her life fades, the sun and the moon are eclipsed and the stars fall from the heavens. In sorrow the moon draws her likeness upon his face for all to see.” Oscar paused. “I believe this is in reference to Amon, Asten, and Ahmose. They are the gods associated with the sun, the moon, and the stars.”

  Wait a second. Does that mean we’re going to die?

  “Do you speak of our demise?” Tia asked, echoing my thoughts.

  “There’s no way to know,” Oscar answered.

  Tia just nodded as if resigned to the fact. “Please continue.”

  Why doesn’t it bother you? Our death? I asked her.

  I’ve already died once, she replied. I came to terms with it a long time ago.

  Speak fer yerself. I’m not wantin’ to give up the ghost any time soon.

  I’ll remind you that a ghost is all you are now anyway, Tia said. Your body has gone the way of the world.

  So’s yers, she replied testily.

  Obviously.

  What’s your name? I asked. I know the one in charge is Tia. But who are you?

  I could sense the pleasure the other one felt at being addressed. I’m Ashleigh, the voice replied. I’m a fairy. At least, I was. Originally from Ireland.

  An Irish fairy. Sure. Why not. Pleased to meet you, I said.

  I then focused back on Oscar’s voice. “The serpent hears her keening and emerges from his den, where she will bind him with a cord. Ah”—the scholar tapped the parchment—“this is a depiction of the Triple Goddess Stone. It’s quite famous. The inscription on the stone refers to a goddess known as Qetesh, who goes by many names. The one here specifically indicates that she is the Mistress of all the Gods. Her symbols were the lion and the sphinx. And here, look at the weapons she wields.”