girl from eighteen to eighty off her feet without breaking a sweat. I wondered if that was something uniquely Anubis or if it was a sort of godlike power to blend in and yet command attention at the same time.
Though he was still as undeniably handsome as the last time I’d seen him, there was something in his eyes, something grave, that belied his casual, devil-may-care expression. Whatever his reason for visiting me, I was sure it wasn’t a social call.
Clutching my covers to my neck and sliding Amon’s scarab under my pillow as inconspicuously as possible, I tried to look a little more regal and in control than a mortal girl could hope to look wrapped up in her nana’s country quilt with thick mismatched socks peeking out from under the covers and a pair of dusty overalls hanging on a hook by the door.
“Anubis. Why are you here?” I asked, distrusting but somehow hopeful at the same time. “Did something go wrong with the ceremony? Did you decide to do a memory wipe on me after all? Are you here to make me a mummy, too?”
The places my mind went to were a little scary, but at the same time, the knowledge that this man had the power to allow me to see Amon again trumped every frightening scenario. I didn’t dare ask the question I really wanted to know. The inquiry burning on the tip of my tongue was related to Amon’s safety, and I was fearful that in asking, I’d be giving too much information away.
Anubis gave me a bemused look that diminished the solemnity in his eyes as he folded his arms across his wide chest. “It is only on very rare and very special occasions that I am called upon to do actual mummification, Lilliana Young. And as you are not dead, it would seem your supposition is unreasoned. Nothing went wrong with the ceremony. Seth is safely contained for the foreseeable future. And the last thing I want to do is take away your memory. If that were my intention, you wouldn’t be seeing me now.”
“Okay. Then what are you doing in my bedroom in the middle of the night?” The black dog nudged my hand and I reached out to stroke his head. When the dog hopped up beside me and wriggled his head under my arm so I could scratch his back, Anubis moved closer and took a seat at the foot of my bed. He regarded me with a mixture of curiosity and bewilderment.
Finally, he said, “I…we…need your help.”
I sputtered, “Y-you, as in the Egyptian gods, need me, a powerless human girl, to help you? What could I possibly help you with?”
Anubis glanced at his dog when he thumped him with his tail, licking my arm. “He does not usually enjoy being around mortals.”
“He seems to like me well enough.”
“Yes. He does.”
“What’s his name?” I asked.
“Abutiu.”
“Huh. That’s an interesting name for a dog.”
“Abutiu is not a dog—he’s the dog.”
“Is that the same kind of thing as the horse, as in Nebu, the golden stallion found by Horus?”
“They are the same in that they both have power beyond that of a mortal animal, but Abutiu was the first of his kind, whereas horse is much too simple a concept to apply to Nebu.”
“So Abutiu’s like the original dog?”
“Something like that.”
Anubis shifted away from me on the bed and continued. “We need you to find Amon.”
“Find him? What do you mean find him? You lost him?” I folded my arms. “Does this have something to do with Amon quitting the mummy business?”
The dark eyes of the god of mummification pierced me, rooting me in place. I swallowed, suddenly uneasy, and berated myself for showing my cards. Nice one, Lily.
“So. You know,” he said. “I must admit I’m not surprised. How often have you seen him?”
At that point I wasn’t sure I should be saying anything more. I gave him a noncommittal shrug and zipped my lips.
“It does not matter if you tell me or not. I know that your connection is still viable. In fact, I’m counting on it being so.”
“What difference does it make either way? He’s not going back.”
Anubis caught my wrist and squeezed it slightly. “He must, Lilliana Young.” Startled, I gently pulled away from his grip. He looked down at his hand as if surprised that he had touched me in the first place and then rose and walked the length of my room, pushing the curtains aside