The stoic killer straightened her posture and marched forward. The air in the room was unnerving. Heat radiated from a small, electric stovetop. Resting atop it was a familiar stone bowl. The two-thousand-year-old, hand-cut artifact had been the oldest heirloom in the Ayad family tree until the canopic jar resurfaced.
Ifza took her place on her brother’s right hand and settled in on her knees like him. Khaliq raised a sack similar to the one she had used on Grant and handed it to her. But instead of it housing a man’s head, this one contained something infinitely more valuable. Carefully, she procured the Anubian jar and admired it in the light. Just holding it gave her the chills, despite the warmth of the room.
“I give you the honors,” Khaliq said, holding open the sack. “Tonight, we see if what our family has stood for is true, or not.”
Ifza slipped the irreplaceable piece of antiquity back into the sack and stood. She tied the open end shut with a simple leather strap and looked to her brother for confirmation.
Khaliq nodded once.
She stepped away from the stove and lifted the jar above her head, picturing it in all its glory. Then, with a savage growl, she slammed the precious artifact onto the floor, picking it up and doing it again and again until it was damaged beyond repair. Eyes wide and out of breath, she presented the ruined jar back to her brother, who gleefully accepted the offer.
Khaliq set the bag down and untied it. He reached in and picked out a piece no larger than a Ping-Pong ball. The chunk went into a second, larger stone bowl, and the thickly built Scales of Anubis leader went about grinding it into a fine powder with nothing more than his strength and will and a cylindrical grinding stone. He placed the second bowl between his knees to hold it in place and then got to work.
Ifza was amazed by how quickly he got into a rhythm. She silently watched, biting her lip as he got closer and closer to completing the millennia-old task. Neither one of them knew exactly what would cause the transition to take place. To the naked eye, it was just another piece of volcanic rock. Even Anubis’ teachings didn’t properly describe it.
Dripping sweat and panting like a dog, Khaliq set down the grinding stone and lifted the larger of the two bowls above his head. In between heavy breaths, he said a prayer to Anubis and to their ancestors to guide them on their next journey. If this worked, it would only be the beginning.
Khaliq poured the powdered stone into the boiling water within the Ayad family bowl. The liquid within it instantly turned to an inky black, and it swirled with a shimmer that typically came from precious metals. There was definitely something else in the igneous rock besides solidified magma.
Khaliq lifted the bowl above his head and said one last prayer before bringing the steaming bowl to his lips. With wild, untamable eyes, Khaliq took a sip and closed his eyes. According to the legend, the deadly concoction would begin its work within seconds of entering the human body.
He offered the bowl to Ifza. She swallowed her rising fear and accepted it.
“Do not be afraid, sister,” Khaliq said. “We were born for this.”
Ifza always loved the idea of being immune to a deadly plague, but now, here, with it right in front of her… She shut up her mind and followed in her brother’s footsteps and drank.
“Come.” Khaliq stood. “We need more blood.”
“I have the perfect test subject.” She frowned and picked up a piece of the broken jar. “We also need more hellstone.”
Khaliq smiled. “Yes, our subject will help with that too.”
Chapter 56
Zahra
Nestled up against the Mediterranean Sea and the Suez Canal is Egypt’s fifth largest city. As its name suggested, Port Said’s bustling harbor community houses over a half-million people. It was founded in 1859 and named after the country’s ruler at the time, Mohamed Sa'id Pasha.
Uncle Wally had given Zahra insight into his hometown when she was a little girl. He always believed that Port Said had always been overlooked as one of the greatest cities in all of Egypt. Typically, travelers came to the country for the historical and archaeological wonders found in places like Cairo, Giza, Luxor, Alexandria, and Thebes.
And he was right, Zahra thought, staring out over the glimmering water.
Besides its noteworthy beaches, Port Said’s other main feature was its now retired lighthouse, a landmark that was completed just one week prior to the Suez Canal’s inauguration in 1869. As the years went by, the infrastructure surrounding the lighthouse changed drastically. Contemporary buildings sprouted out of the sand containing the likes of commercial businesses, restaurants, hotels, and homes. Even a modern shopping mall had been built next door to the architectural marvel. The three-story building looked incredibly odd, sitting directly across the street from the 153-year-old lighthouse.
Zahra glanced down at her watch hand and confirmed the time. Wally had texted her and told her to be at the top of the lighthouse at this time, on the dot. And yet, he wasn’t here. There wasn’t anything for her to do but wait. So, she leaned forward atop the rails of the octagonal tower and appreciated the view. Having some alone time was a blessing, in retrospect. Her father and Cork had, once again, stayed behind to let Zahra work. This time, they were holing up in a motel deeper into town.
Zahra had no idea what to expect from Wally. She also didn’t know whether or not the Scales of Anubis had men on the ground. At this point, Zahra needed to assume they had agents placed in every major Egyptian city. She’d rather be overly paranoid than unprepared and caught off guard.
“That’s probably what Wally is doing right now,” she mumbled, getting a look from a man to her left. He and his kids were atop of the national monument with Zahra, gawking, enjoying the scenic backdrop. The breeze coming off the water wasn’t bad either.
Nothing like Levanzo, though. The balcony view would be forever etched into her mind. Their arrival into Egypt had gone much smoother than she had expected. They had arrived on fumes but did so by using an actual runway this time, instead of a cramped, four-lane road.
Zahra dipped her head and closed her eyes, listening to the world around her. She wasn’t sure how long she had zoned out. But a familiar voice broke the silence.
“Zahra?” She spun around and found herself alone with a very different-looking Waleed Badawi. “Is that really you?” He looked nothing like the man she once knew — but it was him. His eyes gave him away. Gone was his shoulder-length, dark hair and clean-cut face. Wally now sported a shaved head and a graying beard that reached down to his chest. He was also a good thirty pounds lighter than when Zahra had seen him last.
“Hey, Wally. Yeah, it…it’s been a long time.”
His eyes looked sad. “Yes, it has.” He shifted his weight, looking uncomfortable. “Why are you here?”
Zahra had purposely kept the exact reason she had come from him. She wasn’t sure if he would have agreed to meet her, or not, if he had known what was really going on.
Zahra dug into her jacket pocket and removed the picture her father had given her. She stepped forward and handed it over to him. Wally’s eyes locked onto the image and, if it were possible, they became even sadder. This wasn’t the funny, happy-go-lucky uncle from her past. He had obviously been through a lot since Zahra had last seen him.
They all had.
“I know everything about my mother.” Wally snapped his attention back to Zahra. He kept silent and waited for Zahra to say whatever she was about to say. “Khaliq Ayad has her canopic jar.”