❝death is only the beginning.❞
Mara El-Masri's fascination with the long-ago world of ancient Egypt started with the stories her stepfather would tell her when she was a child. Her brother Talib El-Masri is missing, left after their mother's funera...
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JAMIL PULLED ON THE REINS of his horse with one hand and used the other to swing the scimitar as he ran past the Anubis warriors, trying to remove the heads of every single one he passed by. The fabric that covered the wound on his palm was starting to come undone with how tightly he was holding the reins, but it was nothing more than a minor inconvenience in the battle. Of course, Mara would probably upset when they saw each other again and realized he tore his shirt to cover it rather than the extra gauze she had given him after the dirigible crashed.
He had to keep thinking that—when he saw his daughter again, and not if he saw her again. The Army of Anubis were formidable warriors in all the stories and it was fortunate that as Jamil and his horse ran he did not see any of the Medjai lying on the sand. Most were still on their horses but a few had been knocked off and were fighting on their feet now.
Each time an Anubis warrior was killed, it turned back to the sand it had come from. There were no bodies left behind, which meant that with each death there was more area to fight in. Jamil had killed five of them in the past two minutes and had narrowly saved at least one of the other Medjai warriors from meeting a cruel death. The numbers of the Anubis warriors had lessened considerably since the battle began. No Medjai blood had been spilled.
One of the warriors stepped directly in the path of Jamil's horse and the horse whinnied, rearing up onto its back to legs. His grip on the reins loosened and Jamil fell off into the sand. The scimitar fell from his hand and he looked to the warrior to find it raising its weapon at him. Jamil rolled out of the way before it beared down on him and grabbed the scimitar, jumping to his feet and swiping at its neck. The thing turned to sand before his eyes.
With his horse gone, Jamil was now on his feet as he fought, turning and swinging the sword at every Anubis warrior that came near him. Ardeth was on his feet as well, knocked off his horse avoiding the blow of an Anubis warrior. One of them was going toward his old friend, who was unaware as he swung at another. So Jamil raised his scimitar and cut off the head of the one that was about to kill Ardeth. Ardeth gave him a short, thankful nod before they both returned to the battle surrounding them.
The Army of Anubis was noticeably thinning around them. Where once there were hundreds, thousands of warriors, there were only a few dozen left. One by one, those few dozen were cut down and disappeared into the sand until the only warriors left standing were that of the Medjai. The cheers of his people hardly caught Jamil's ears as he looked around. There were no Medjai dead. No one seemed to even be injured. This was too easy a fight. Too easy a win.
Something was wrong.
The same look of wariness was on Ardeth's face, Jamil found when he looked at him. When their gazes met, Jamil shook his head and said lowly, "This isn't right." Ardeth agreed with another cautious look around until his gaze settled on the sand dunes to the east. Then he took off running. The cheers faded as Jamil and the rest of the Medjai followed him. What Jamil saw made his heart stop.
