behind me sent a primal jolt of fear through my veins. Carson tensed beside me, and Johnson said, with a sneer marred by his fat lip, “I’ll let you run. Just for grins.”
A feline roar, close enough to rattle my teeth, put the spurs to my heart and my feet. Carson’s, too. But I took enough time to read the sign on the case behind us: MAN-EATING LION OF MFUWE.
Something like a shade pulled free from the sad stuffed and mounted specimen. It shook itself as if waking from a nap, then leapt, passing through the glass and landing on the tile with prowling grace.
I didn’t realize I’d gone still until Carson grabbed my arm and pulled me out of shock and into motion. We ran, sliding on saltwater-slick floors, and made it to the stairs. The click of claws on marble pursued us, and I glanced back to see golden-green eyes glowing with stolen power. The outline was hazy, but teeth and talons gleamed. It was a construct of magic and the ghosts of its victims, and it was made for killing.
Taking the stairs two at a time, I kept pace with Carson. “Those claws,” he asked as we rounded the landing, “are they as real as they look?”
“I don’t want to find out the hard way,” I panted. “The volcanic ash was real enough. And the water—”
I broke off. We’d reached the main hall on the first floor, and chaos. I hadn’t had time to wonder if the mummies could climb stairs, but now I knew. With no definite instructions, the undead ran amok, chasing sightseers, terrorizing children. Just … grabbing people. And anyone they grabbed, they would Not. Let. Go.
Teachers held off mummies with umbrellas and satchels, trying to get their students to the doors. Security guards shouted over the noise, “Keep calm! Move in an orderly fashion to the exit!” But trying to maintain order was a losing battle.
The lion’s claws scrabbled on the stairs. Carson and I split, diving out of the way as the beast leapt into the hall with a roar that shook my bones. It sprang on the nearest thing that moved—a man grappling with one of the undead—and took them both down with one swipe, slashing the man’s leg and shredding the ancient corpse like confetti streamers.
The crowd screamed, making a deafening echo in the enormous hall. The panicked rush for the doors accelerated to ramming speed.
“Hey!” yelled Carson, getting the lion’s attention. It turned, snarling, away from the easy pickings of the herd in the hall and focused on him with specific intent. “Handle the mummies,” he told me, already backing away. “I’ll take care of the lion.”
He was gone, running full-out for one of the side galleries, before I could ask what he planned to do. I ran for the lion’s victim; his blood made a garish arc across the white marble floor, and I pulled off the scarf I wore and tied it around the man’s thigh, stanching the dribbles.
“That was a lion.” His voice was flat with shock. “And a … a …”
“Yeah,” I said. I couldn’t see the brethren, but I knew they must be around, keeping the power flowing to the mummies. How else were they still so strong this far from the Jackal?
“Police!” came a shout. “Everyone stay calm and—”
The officer broke off as he got a look at the carnage in the hall. “What the—”
The rest was drowned out by the skull-ringing clang of the security doors on the far side of the hall slamming shut. A moment later the heavy gate of the remaining exit started rumbling down.
A policeman on a radio yelled for someone on the other end to raise the gates. The rest were shouting, “Go, go, go!” and hurrying the wounded through the closing gap to freedom.
“This guy needs help!” I called. An officer and a tourist hoisted the man up and half carried him toward the door. One of the undead marauders lunged after them; the reins of power that tied them to the Jackal and the Brotherhood glowed to my Sight. I was so close I could grab them with my psychic hands and rip them free.
The mummy collapsed, kicked apart an instant later by fleeing feet.
There was a shudder in the web of magic that animated the remains. Slowly, they turned their empty-eyed faces toward me. I’d been spotted. One of the brethren must have given them new orders.
At least they abandoned the innocent bystanders. Some