“It sounds like a collar,” I observed.
Bas’s ears flattened, letting more of the bandages slide off. A human passing by stopped short, his eyes bulging as he raised one shaking hand to point at Bas. I glanced over at the man as he started babbling and pointing, his head swiveling to look at the other humans passing by. The crowd immediately began giving him a wide berth, with mothers pulling on their children’s arms to keep them from stopping to stare.
You could always tell the humans sensitive enough to pick up on the Otherworld.
“It is not a collar,” Bas said evenly, ignoring the security guard approaching the hysterical human. “It is an amulet. And it is very powerful.”
“Is it your…amulet?” I asked.
“No. It belongs to a sorcerer, an associate of my master, Ra. He created it to give himself nine lives.”
“Why?” I asked. “Humans don’t know what to do with the one life they have, why ask for eight more?”
“It’s just something humans do,” Bas said, a hint of exasperation creeping into his tone. “It doesn’t matter. When he finished with his eighth life, he decided he would use the final life to recharge the amulet and pass it on to someone deserving, someone who would use it to help others. Unfortunately, the man who was supposed to have it, lost it somehow. So the sorcerer asked my master to send me to fetch it.”
“He used one life to charge an amulet that would give someone else nine lives?” I spoke slowly so Bas would have a chance to hear that he wasn’t making sense.
“Power given costs less than power taken,” Bas said, using the same voice the witch used when she explained something to the pixie. Slow, with the sort of cadence that said the words were replacing violent urges.
I blinked slowly as a weight slid over my body. As if I hadn’t slept in days and it was catching up with me all at once. I shook my head. The magic was building inside me again.
“Are you all right?” Bas asked.
“Yes.” I took a deep breath. “So, the amulet was stolen and you want help finding it. Because you’re a messenger, not a finder.”
Bas shifted his weight on his mummified legs, making his bones creak. “I could find it. I know where it was, where it should be. I could track it that way. But Seth mentioned to my master that the Finder would be at the museum and would offer to help. If you are the Finder, you can make this task go more quickly.”
The magic pulsed inside me, and I swallowed it back. “Seth?”
“One of the gods.” Bas paused. “Usually he isn’t so helpful.”
“But I am,” I reminded him. “Helpful, I mean.” The magic pulsed again, stronger this time. “I need a moment. If you’ll excuse me…”
“Time is not on our side,” Bas said firmly. “The sorcerer said that whoever stole the amulet has already burned through one of the lives. We must find it before he burns through the rest.”
“Burned?” I leaned all my weight on my front paws, trying to keep from falling over as I looked for the witch. The magic was for her. I needed to go to her.
“Used. It’s what made the sorcerer check in on him. It’s how he discovered the amulet was not where it should be. He believes someone has stolen it and is using the power of the ‘lives’ the amulet grants as an energy source for other spells.”
My stomach hurt. And my paws hurt. So much magic. Where was that witch?
Bas eyed me with what must pass for concern in canines. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Fine. Just need to give something to my witch. One moment.”
“But—”
I lurched to all fours and trotted in the direction I’d last seen the witch, ignoring the sputtering dog mummy behind me.
I found her standing in the room next to the one Bas and I had been talking in. She was speaking with a man who looked like he’d just eaten something very sour. The witch held up a figurine to show him, something black and shiny that looked like a man holding some sort of weapon. She was saying something to the sour man and nodding at the figurine. The man glanced down at the object even as he turned his body as if he’d walk away. He was making the “I’m Not Eating That” face.
The witch spotted me coming toward her and her entire body tensed, no doubt preparing for the surge of magic I was bringing her. If I were honest with myself, she wasn’t great with magic. More often than not, she caused a lot of trouble with the energy I gave her. But I’d promised the pale lady that I would be helpful. Always helpful. And she’d been very specific that I was to use my magic to help this witch.
“Majesty,” the witch said, a warning in her voice.
She always spoke my name with such gravitas. Such respect. It made it easier to forgive her shortcomings.
The power inside me swelled. It crackled in the air, tickling my nose, and I sneezed.
The magic left me in a whoosh, heading for the witch. When I opened my eyes, the witch was still standing there, as was the unpleasant looking man.
The figurine in her hand was gone.
No, wait, it was back again.
No, now it was gone.
I frowned. How was making the artifact disappear and reappear helpful?
I shook my head and turned to go back to Bas. The witch would figure it out. She always did. The important thing was, I’d given her the help she needed, even if I didn’t understand it. And now it was time for me to help Bas.
When I returned to the dog mummy, he was staring at me with a look on his face I couldn’t quite read.
“What?” I asked.
“Did she call you Majesty?”
“Yes.”
Bas closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. “Then the worship of your kind still continues. Perfect.” He opened his eyes and shook his head, causing more of the bandages to loosen. “Humans have learned nothing.”
I waited patiently for him to return to the task at hand.
“Anubis was dog-headed, you know,” Bas muttered. “But that wasn’t good enough for the humans. Jackal-headed, that’s what they say now. It’s insulting.”
Suddenly, his entire body tensed, every muscle tightening until he looked very much like the dried mummy he’d been when I first saw him. I reached out a paw to touch his chest, relieved when his eyes refocused, and the tension left him in a visible whoosh.
“We have to hurry,” he said grimly. “The sorcerer just sent me a message. The amulet has burned through two more lives.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“Death,” Bas said gravely. “Or something worse.”
It took some convincing to explain to Bas that letting me ride on his back was the quickest way for us both to get to our destination. The mummy dog ran with the speed of a feather in a windstorm, and it was only after I pointed out that he could either carry me, or wait for me, that he agreed to let me ride. As unhappy as he was with our traveling arrangement, he was even more unhappy when we reached our destination.
“Cats,” he spat.
I rose up on my hind legs so I could look over his head at the sprawling yard before us. Cats, indeed. Apparently, our theft victim was an avid cat lover. My feline brethren were everywhere, dotting sunny patches on his lawn, lounging on the windowsills inside the house. And when the door opened and an old man I assumed to be the victim emerged onto the porch, he even carried a cat on one shoulder. The cat on his shoulder was young, as young as I looked. And he was clinging to the old man’s sweater with the tenacity of a youth determined to hold the high ground over his fellow felines. Literally.
“This has to be a joke.” Bas shook his head. “A horrible, horrible joke.”