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“Heissort of dick-less,” Ben said wryly.
“That reference Heba made to Osiris’ wife Isis? It’s because Osiris was murdered and chopped up into fourteen pieces by his brother Seth, the god of disorder. Isis managed to find all of his pieces except for his penis, which was eaten by a fish. She then created a fake phallus, bandaged his broken pieces together like a mummy, and brought him back to life long enough to become pregnant by him with Horus.”
“So no penis jokes?” Ere pouted.
Ben arched a brow at him.
He was certain Ere knew about Osiris’ missing dick to begin with. Ere was likely much better versed in ancient civilizations and mythologies than Ben could ever hope to be. But he often pretended as if he was ignorant.
Apparently unable to wait any longer, Sorin lifted Ere off his feet and moved him aside as if he was an inconvenient obstruction. Then, without a word, he opened the sarcophagus.
All three men leaned forward to see what lay within, then immediately leaned back again.
“That’s not a mummy,” Ere whispered.
“No,” Ben concurred.
“Living woman,” Sorin put in.
Indeed, a small woman a little over five feet lay serenely inside the sarcophagus. Her hands were not crossed over her chest in the typical gesture of Pharoahs. Instead, they held a large, well-worn box over her torso.
She was dressed simply as the wall murals depicted her within the tomb. She wore no makeup and no wig. Her features were cleanly-scrubbed, and no other embellishments adorned her, save a pair of silver earrings.
As well as a silver ouroboros ring on her left ring finger.
“I can see her chest move,” Ere said, still too dumbstruck to speak in a normal voice.
“Is there any chance this isn’t Heba?” Ben asked.
“Certainly,” Ere snapped back.
“Some random twenty-first century Egyptian woman decided to dress in an ancient Egyptian costume, somehow broke into a hidden, subterranean tomb, then walled herself in, and crawled into a coffin to slowly waste away or suffocate here. Or await the chance of discovery by one dragon, one phoenix and one human who traveled to Africa from the Yukon Territories of North America on a harebrained quest.”
Ben quirked his lips.
He certainly walked into that quagmire of sarcasm.
“But how can she possibly be alive after three thousand five hundred years?” Ben asked instead.
“Dragon Mate,” Sorin said.
It took Ben a moment to comprehend.
“Of course! If she is the Destined Mate of an immortal celestial dragon, then she wouldn’t age and she wouldn’t die as long as he was alive.”
“Doesn’t explain why she’s lying there dead to the world, so to speak,” Ere muttered. “Without actually being dead.”
“Perhaps the gods granted her wish,” Ben theorized.
“Perhaps they put her in limbo between life and death because she asked. If she’s been unconscious, asleep, all this time, she doesn’t have to live without him, and she’s also able to wait for the time when he finds her again.”
“So what now?” Ere asked.
“I say we take her with us, put her in a safe place with maybe my family back in the Yukon, and see if we can help find Shai,” Ben proposed.
“What about the Secret Gift?”
“She has to be part of the answer, right?” Ben replied. “But like you said—I honestly don’t give a fuck about the quest any more. We have to help Heba find Shai.”
