An unimaginable peace filled her. She felt light, both in weight and in radiance. She was herself, but something more too.
She looked down at Karim, at his defiled, empty body, and her peace was broken. Seeing him there, she was filled with displeasure. A piece of him had been stolen and spirited away. Such an insult must be remedied. Such an emptiness demanded to be filled.
She looked at the valley before her, and a voice called out to her from the earth and from the sky. A mother’s voice. Not her own mother, but the mother of all. The first voice she ever heard, the voice of the one who named her.
The lamb.
The lamb.
The lamb.
The—
“I am tired of death,” she said, the words strange to her ears. Her gaze drifted to the blue stone, which pulsed in her hand as if it were alive.
She turned back to Karim. “You can’t die, tomb robber. I told you, I can’t bear another death on my conscience.” She spoke with an almost supernatural calm. “I can’t do this alone, Karim of the Red Lands. Your story is not finished. This kingdom needs you.”
The stone throbbed in time with her own heartbeat.
Thrum. Thrum. Thrum.
“I need you.”
Sita pressed the amulet into the dark chasm of Karim’s open chest.
“Come back to me!” she commanded.
There was a flash as sunlight lanced over the horizon. Behkai yelped in fright as a ring of force burst from the center of the valley, throwing waves of sand up into the air. Sita cried out as she was thrown backward. As she fell back to earth, her head struck the edge of a rock.
She knew nothing more.
***
Sita blinked and groaned. She lay on her back on the valley floor, her head aching. How much time had passed? It couldn’t have been long. The position of the sun looked the same.
She tried to remember what happened, but her memory was foggy. She remembered an overwhelming sensation, words and images, the amulet…
The amulet!
With a gasp, she struggled up to her elbows.
Karim was sitting up in front of her, staring off into the growingdaylight. His body was still soaked in blood, but the gaping wound in his chest had knit back together beneath a scarab-shaped scar.
At her movement, Karim turned to her, and his eyes flashed with an otherworldly light.
“Sitamun,” he said, his voice low and frightened. “What have you done?”
Epilogue
Paws
The palace had become very noisy of late, and the cat did not like it. She was accustomed to the regular rhythms of days past, but recently, her sleep, appetite, and even her morning ablutions had all been thrown off course. Voices rang out all day and night, and heavy-footed men paraded everywhere with no regard for paws or tails. What was worse, no one spared a single moment for a back scratch.
It was terribly inconsiderate, really. Of everyone.
She missed the company of the young women who used to sleep in the ladies’ chambers, and the little girl who’d sneak plates of meat to her after evening meals. They’d all gone, leaving her to sleep alone in cold, empty beds.
After a particularly fitful night in her old rooms, the cat decided to find a new place to call home. The palace was large; surely there was somewhere worth her time.
