Myths and Gargoyles by Jamie Hawke (interesting books to read in english txt) 📕

“Morgiana, no,” Ali Baba said, and he was starting to become visible. This man was weathered, and I imagined he’d seen better days. Still, when he turned to the mirror and laughed, touching his face to be sure it was really him, he seemed ecstatic to be actually visible, in any form whatever. “They did it, they really did it.”

“And you’ll hold up your end of the bargain?” I asked him.

“He has no choice,” Elisa replied.

“She’s right.” Ali Baba glanced at Red, frowning. “Though I’d like my knife back. I’ll never understand why you took it.”

“Long story,” Red replied, hand still on the blade. “And… no. It wasn’t part of the deal.”

Morgiana growled, all glares. “Maybe I take it from her?”

Ali Baba held up a hand and she backed down. The man at her side was staring at Ali Baba, however, and suddenly ran forward, throwing his arms around the older man.

“Father,” he cried.

Ali Baba held him close, eyes glistening, and then didn’t even look at us as he took a ring from his left hand, turned the stone in it so that lines on the stone matched the lines on the silver. It instantly lit up, matching a pattern on the wall. Ali Baba turned slowly toward it and said in a loud, clear voice, “Open sesame.”

The wall slid apart, revealing what appeared to be his most valued possessions, including the scepter—gold, one end expanding out almost like a shovel, and engraved with Egyptian hieroglyphs.

“I take no part in this war,” Ali Baba said. “Still, I hope you will remember my contribution here today, for my heart is connected with each piece in my inner chamber.”

“Father,” his son said, but Ali Baba unclasped him, entered the room, and reached for the scepter. When he returned, he handed it to Elisa, bowed, and then cringed slightly as his hand pulled away.

“He doesn’t mean literally, does he?” I asked Hekate, referring to the part about his heart being connected to the scepter.

She gave me an uncertain glance. “It wouldn’t be the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”

I’d read Harry Potter too many times to not be very intrigued by this, but when the man turned and told us to go, I realized we weren’t going to get answers here today. We had what we’d come for, and now it was time to find this Sekhmet lioness lady, or goddess… or whatever she was.

“Thank you,” Elisa said, and she held out the scepter for Hekate. “Thirty minutes or so again?”

Hekate placed a hand on the scepter and instantly shook, her eyes going wide and her face starting to contort into the shape of a lioness. With a flash of purple and black, she was back, shaking as she said, “No, she’s calling for it. This will be instant, if you’re ready.”

“We are.”

We all stepped up, ready, and the portal opened.

Morgiana stared after us with interest, but the last image they saw of us was Red giving her the finger.

34

I rubbed my eyes, trying to see if I was blind or something was covering them, but then fire burst into life, and we could see again. Torches lined the walls of old, tanned stone. An eerie breeze blew past and shadows darted across the floor, some reaching to Sharon and me, pulling at the wolf within. I felt it, and could see the fur growing on her, the wild returning to her eyes.

We’d hoped it was gone with Pan, but apparently we weren’t so lucky.

“Where are we?” I asked, glancing over to Hekate.

“My guess, somewhere in Egypt,” the witch replied.

We braced for impact, not sure what was coming.

“If she can help us out, she was a famous Tempest,” Elisa said, looking hopeful. “Maybe she can show you a thing or two.”

“Not likely,” Red countered. “I think I know exactly where we are, and why she’s not going to be on friendly terms.”

“Go on,” Elisa said.

At first I thought that we were in an enclosed room but then I noticed that Red was busy looking into one of the corners and when I focused on it I could see that it wasn’t enclosed at all, that in fact there were exit points. Red gestured for us to follow, and indeed, even the torches were blowing in that direction as if telling us which way to go.

“There’s a legend,” Red said, voice hushed, “based in part on truth. Which parts of the tale are true and which parts are fabricated, I couldn’t tell you, but Ra is supposed to have sent Sekhmet to deal with his enemies and she did, but then she couldn’t stop. The shadow got her, bloodlust taking over. When they finally caught up with her there were piles and piles of bodies. The legend says Ra poured ten thousand jars of alcohol on her to get her drunk so that she’d stop, though that part would likely be an exaggeration—”

“You think?” Pucky scoffed, but backed off at a look from Red.

“Whatever the case, she was passed out for three days, woken by Ptah—god of creation and fertility at the time—and they fell in love.”

“I’m still not making the connection to this place,” Sharon admitted.

“This is where the two settled down?” Pucky asked. “Decided they didn’t want any more to do with all that?”

“Ptah,” Hekate said, shaking her head as she walked next to me. Suddenly she stopped, gasping. “He went dark—I knew him before… Oh, shit.”

“What?” I asked.

“She’s the one who killed him, isn’t she? Her lover.”

Red stopped, looked back, and nodded slowly. “Except she didn’t exactly kill him. When he went dark, she took him down, trapping his ichor, his soul—in a tomb. I believe we’re in that tomb.”

“She never left,” I said, thinking at once how creepy and how romantic that was.

“She never left,” a voice echoed, but it wasn’t my own.

We all spun around, searching for the source of that voice. To my horror, everything flashed dark and then was back, but with the walls having