Samantha tried to not feel slighted as she waited for the transatlantic call to go through. Every member of the Assistance Unlimited squad was given equal preference when it came to the jobs they performed and this sometimes meant getting stuck with nothing more exciting than talking to someone on the phone. Samantha knew it was an important task but she still ached to be out in the field, where the danger truly lay. It wasn’t that she was addicted to the excitement, but she certainly enjoyed the rush that came with surviving a near fatal encounter.
Of all four of them, she was the only one with family still living. Eun’s parents had been murdered, Morgan’s were long gone and Lazarus… well, poor Lazarus wouldn’t have known if he had a wife and kids somewhere. His memory of his life before waking up in Sovereign City was a jumble of confusing images and sounds. It sounded awful to Samantha and she often wondered how lonely he must be.
She sighed, trying to talk herself away from this line of thinking. Lazarus wasn’t the most romantic of men but there was something about him that enticed her. She hoped it wasn’t simply the pity factor but she couldn’t discount that. She did feel the urge to mend his broken heart.
And then there was Morgan. She felt badly for having slapped him but couldn’t bring herself to apologize.
She was so lost in thought that it took her a few seconds to realize there was a man on the line now, repeatedly saying hello in a distinctly British voice: "I say, is there anyone there?"
"Is this James Garmont?"
"Yes, it is! And to whom am I speaking, young lady?"
"Samantha Grace of Sovereign City."
"Ah! The little girl of Sheridan and Amanda? I met your parents years ago at a charity get together. Never forgot them. Such a charming, good-humored set of people! What can I do for you, love?"
Samantha paused. Garmont knew her parents? Did Lazarus know that? If so, it explained why he wanted her to handle this call. Sometimes the things he knew bordered on the supernatural. "They speak highly of you as well," she lied. "I’m calling to ask you about Mr. Mitchell. He visited you not long ago and purchased a mummy, didn’t he?"
"I believe he did, yes." Samantha fought the urge to stare at the phone. All the good nature had faded abruptly from Garmont’s voice. He sounded quite brusque, in fact. "Terrible pity about his death. I heard about it from mutual friends. Give my best to his wife, will you?"
"Please," Samantha said, sensing that he was close to hanging up the phone. "His wife is at her wit’s end. She says the mummy is talking to her and moving about. Every third night, it screams at midnight. I know how it must sound but I’m trying to help her. Did anything unusual ever happen with the mummy while you owned it?"
Garmont sighed and it was such a weary sound that Samantha felt a surge of sympathy for him. She could hear him sit down heavily. "That thing has been nothing but a terror. I tried to talk him out of taking it but he wouldn’t listen. He was obsessed with her, just like I was." Samantha said nothing, sensing that he would continue in his own time. "I collected the things, mummies I mean. I bought a few and enjoyed showing them off to blokes from the pub. It was good for a laugh now and again. But then a gypsy came knocking on my door one day… I nearly had the help drive her away, she stank so fiercely and you can’t trust them, you know? They’ll steal you blind if you let them. But she told me she had heard I liked mummies. She said she had one and she was special. So I walked out to her wagon and took a look. Even all dried up and swathed in bandages, she was beautiful. I could feel it in my loins." Garmont’s voice trailed away. "I’m sorry, Miss. That’s not proper, is it?"
"It’s okay. Please go on."
"Well I bought her, of course. And the gypsy told me that she was a princess named Femi. She also told me that what made Femi so special was that she wasn’t truly dead. She slept in some sort of awful twilight haze. As long as you kept the seven-starred pendant in the same house, she wouldn’t wake up. Move it far enough away, though, and she’d start to revive. It would be slight, at first, but every three days she’d get a little stronger, until at last she was warm and gorgeous again."
"There’s a necklace, you say?"
"Yes. I gave it to Mitchell, though I suspect he did the same thing I did. He eventually wanted to see what would happen if she woke up. I had her for nearly three months before I gave in to temptation. There was something about her corpse that made me weak." Garmont’s voice became strained and even over the distant phone connection, she knew he was crying. "I buried the pendant out in the garden and then waited. Every three days, she got a little stronger… until finally she came to me and her hips were alabaster white and her breasts were full and ripe. She had raven black hair and almond eyes. She tore at her cloth coverings until all of her sex was exposed and she took me right there on the floor. It was… it was like nothing I’d ever experienced. She was in control the entire time and she took me… like she was claiming me." Garmont grew silent and Samantha almost thought she’d lost the connection when he continued. "When I woke up, I found her in the kitchen. She’d killed the butler and eaten his heart. I ran screaming but they were all dead: the maid, her daughter, even the dogs. All ripped apart by my princess. She came to me again and the Lord knows I’m not sure if she planned to kill me to… or take me back to her bed."
"What did you do?"
"I ran to the garden and dug up the necklace with my bare hands. Once I had it, she returned to her sleep. Her skin went dry and the blood dried up inside her, turning to dust. Any time I felt tempted by her, I’d remember what she did."
"When she was waking up from her sleep… did she scream anything at you?"
"Oh, good heavens, yes. God is dead. Every night. The gypsy told me that the gods of ancient Egypt had punished her. She’d been part of a cult that believed the gods were all dead and gone, that their hold on the people should no longer be enforced. The gods punished her by transforming her into what she is now and the knowledge of that keeps her angry. She shouts her fury at them every chance she gets."
Samantha realized that she should have been writing all of this down. No worries, she thought, there’s no way I’m forgetting any of this. "How and why did Mr. Mitchell end up with her?"
"I’d put her and the other mummies in the attic. I’d like to say I’d forgotten all about her but that would be a lie. She haunted me. Even now, I can still feel her lips against mine and the heat of her breath on my neck. When Mitchell came to visit, it was around the time that I was gathering things up for the church rummage sale. I asked him to help me bring down an old box of clothes from the attic and while we were up there, he saw the pile of mummies. I could tell how interested he was and I have to admit that I shared the story quite freely. I didn’t hide the danger from him, though. I knew it wouldn’t matter if I did. He was smitten, just like I had been. And I wanted her out of my house. So when he asked if he could buy her, I was more than happy to take his money. I shouldn’t have done it, I know that. I knew the risks for my friend but I was a bloody coward!"
Samantha pressed on, sensing that Garmont was near his breaking point. "All we have to do is find the necklace and bring it close to her? Then she goes back to sleep?"
"Yes…." Samantha thanked him and hung hurriedly. If she’d waited just a second longer, she might have heard something of vital importance. Garmont continued speaking, not having heard her goodbye. "But you have to watch out for Them. They’ll be drawn to her and they’ll do whatever they can to make sure you don’t interfere with her resurrection. Miss Grace?"
Garmont stared at the phone in horror. He’d been so caught up in recounting his sins that he hadn’t told her about Them. How could he have been so stupid?