by Linsey Hall
“Wow, you’re right,” Del said.
“Except we have no nails,” I said. “Or a hammer.”
Del’s face lit up. “We don’t need them. The Egyptians lashed their boats together with rope. I read that once.”
I glanced at the coils of rope, the last piece of the puzzle and the one I hadn’t quite understood. “Of course. There’s the rope.”
Del high-fived me. “Good work, Sherlock.”
“Let’s just hope we can build the thing.”
“At least it’s not a big boat,” Del said.
“Just pray it’s not a real river we’re going to be traveling upon.” But I didn’t think so. I didn’t see any caulking material, for one. And this was the desert. I’d bet money that the boat, when fully constructed, ignited a spell. We might travel down a magical river, but there’d be no real water.
“Let’s get started then,” Del said.
It took us a solid four hours and a whole lot of cursing, but we managed to get the small boat built. It was about twelve feet long and narrow. The jagged-edged planking had made it easier to assemble than I’d expected. Just like building a giant jigsaw puzzle. There were a few small spare chips of wood left over that we hadn’t been able to figure out, but it looked like a boat.
To finish the job, we wedged some larger pieces of wood next to the curved bottom of the boat to keep it sitting upright. They were too bulky to be pieces of the boat, so we assumed that was their purpose.
We stood next to our creation, our hands on our hips.
“So now what?” Del asked.
“I guess we should get in it.”
Gingerly, we climbed into the boat. As soon as my foot left the ground, the air shimmered with magic. It sparkled with a bright light and tingled against my skin.
In front of us, the ground turned to a shimmering blue, like a river. The boat moved, creaking forward on the river of magic.
Del gasped. I held on tight.
We drifted along the floor. When the bow touched the wall, I clenched my fists.
Come on.
The bow pierced the wall, gliding through effortlessly. The boat flowed forward. When I was nose to nose with the wall, I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to help myself.
When I didn’t feel the rough scrape of stone on my nose or the feeling of being shoved backward, I opened my eyes.
And stared straight into the black gaze of a mummy. A golden mask of a bird was propped over his face, and thin strips of dusty white fabric wrapped around his whole body.
I shrieked and lunged left, tumbling out of the boat.
You’ve got to be kidding me. I’d raided over half a dozen pyramids and the mummy was never awake. I scrambled away from him, my frantic gaze taking in the elaborate furniture, the ornately decorated boxes, and the food that sat out on golden platters.
The mummy’s sarcophagus sat in the center of the room, the heavy stone top pushed all the way off.
Del appeared as the boat finished drifting through. She screamed and tumbled out of the boat, too.
“He’s not supposed to be awake!” she shouted as she crab-walked backward, away from the mummy.
His beaked face was turned toward her. I had no idea if there was a bird head in there, but I didn’t want to find out.
He lumbered toward her, his arms outstretched. He moved slowly, in that comical way of old horror movies, but I’d heard mummies were damned strong if you had the misfortune to run across one who was alive.
“Gimme a sec! I’ll figure it out!” Frantically, I searched the room, feeling out all the magical signatures.
I didn’t want to hurt the mummy. Of all the historical treasures in this room, he was number one. And he was technically a person. Or he had been. Now he was a soul who couldn’t cross over. But if I wasn’t going to hurt him, I needed something to incapacitate him.
Egyptian royalty had traveled to the afterlife in their boat, like the one we’d ridden on, equipped with spells and magic that could ward off any bad things they might encounter on the other side.
There had to be something in here to help me.
“Cass! Hurry!” Del dodged the mummy, trying to stay out of his grasp.
There were weapons stacked against the walls, but she ignored them, likely knowing how much I wanted to avoid hurting him. I might raid tombs for a living, but I tried not to do much damage.
“Hold him off, Del,” I yelled. “I’m working on it!”
I raced around the room, feeling out the magical signatures of the artifacts. Only some had power, but most were indecipherable. That was normal—I didn’t usually even think about objects’ signatures because I couldn’t often tell what they were. But I needed abnormal now.
The mummy made a weird rasping noise as he chased Del. The sound made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
“I think he’s upset!” Del yelled.
“Yep!” I hesitated near a golden vial. The magic that radiated from it made my skin tingle.
I shook my head and moved on. Too much energy in that one.
“Watch out!” Del shouted.
I looked up. The mummy was coming straight at me, hands outstretched in classic mummy pose. It would have been funny if I weren’t so freaked out.
I dodged to the left, but he grabbed my arm.
“Shit!” I tried to yank away, but his grip was strong as steel. And cold. Way too cold for a mummy in this heat. His black gaze burned into me as I pulled away. Before I raced across the room, I got a feel for his magic and caught the slightest whiff of decay. That scent usually accompanied dark magic. Beneath it was the smell of fresh fruit.
It hit me then. The mummy had been cursed. The fruity smell was his normal magic. The decay was the scent of the curse lingering over him. I’d smelled the like before, on people who were wearing slave collars that poisoned them with dark magic. Aaron, the only other FireSoul I’d ever met besides my deirfiúr, had smelled like that.
The mummy made a rasping noise and whirled to face me.
“He’s cursed,” I said. “That’s why he’s awake.”
“So let’s put him to sleep.”
The mummy lumbered toward us, creepy as hell with his dead-looking eyes peering out through the golden mask. Maybe I could nullify the curse that kept him awake.
“Distract him while I try something,” I said.
Del gave a little whoop that attracted the mummy’s attention. When his head swung toward her, she raced toward him, then dodged away. He followed.
I focused on the Nullifier’s magic, trying to draw it out of myself and propel it toward the mummy.
But I got nothing but crickets. Whatever nullifying gift I had lay dormant inside me. Except for the fact that it screwed with my own magic.
Damn it.
“Find a charm or potion that might put him to sleep,” I said. “There might be something here to help him in the afterlife.”
Del and I began to search, feeling for the magical signature on the enchanted artifacts and potions. The mummy raced after us, hot on our heels as we dodged him.
I plucked a blue vial off the top of a box when the mummy’s cold hand gripped my arm again. I yanked away, shuddering, and the desperate noise that rattled through his throat made my hair stand on end. I darted to the other side of the room, trying to focus on the feel of the magic in the blue vial I clutched.
A calm, relaxing magic emitted from it. The magic was hard to describe, but I’d bet this would do the trick.
“Help me lure him to the sarcophagus!” I called to Del.
“Hey, Boris!” she yelled, waving her arm. She stood behind the sacrocphogus, leaving me with the job of pushing him in.
Thanks, Pal.
The mummy whirled around, then stalked toward her. I raced after him. He veered around the sarcophagus, but I shoved him in, cringing when my hands met his cold wrappings.
His top half bent over the sarcophagus and he struggled.
“Ugh,” I bent down and grab
bled his cold legs, then tried to heave him up into the sacrocaphagus. “Little help, here!”
Del joined me and we heaved him into the big stone box. He thrashed and turned over.
“Hold him down!” I uncorked the bottle.
Del pressed on the mummy’s shoulders, pinning him, and I held the vial over his beak, praying to magic that this would work.
There was a hole at the end of his beaked mask, so I poured the potion over the spot. The liquid was silvery and clear.
A second later, he calmed.
We stepped back, watching him warily.
“Feel better?” I asked.
He started to rise, and I stepped forward to push him back in. But his movements were so slow, and so indicative of someone who was tired, that I hesitated. He gestured to the room and all the treasure, then to me.
“What?” I asked.
He gestured again, pointing to a pile of gold and then to me.
“I can take some?” I asked, my FireSoul jumping in delight. Normally, I’d take stuff anyway, but I always returned it after we’d taken the magic charm from the artifact. But was he giving me permission?
That was a first.
The mummy nodded.
I smiled. “Thanks.”
He lay back down, and a moment later, his magic disappeared and his limbs stilled.
He was asleep. Or dead. Whatever the case, he was happy about it.
Del slumped to the ground. “For magic’s sake, that was weird.”
“Yeah.” Even my knees felt a little weak. I was used to spells and monsters and demons, but not mummies. They were parts of history. The idea of hurting one had freaked me the hell out.
That had been a close one.
I glanced around the room, finally able to take it all in. “Whoa.”
“Yeah. This dude was loaded.”
Furniture was everywhere, with gorgeous boxes filling in the rest of the space. In one corner was another pile of wood, no doubt the boat for the deceased. The dry air kept everything fairly well preserved, but magic was obviously playing a role, too. The food, set out thousands of years ago for him to take to the afterlife, was still fresh-looking.
“Can’t believe that guy didn’t mind that we take some of this stuff,” Del said.
“I know. Easiest job we’ve ever done.” Our shop, Ancient Magic, made its profit selling the magic encased in enchanted artifacts. With time, magic decayed and became unstable. If left to its own devices, it could cause some serious problems. Explosions, plagues, that kind of thing.
So we stuck to taking magic from the dangerously decayed artifacts, and we returned the original artifacts to their sites. We then put the magic in a replica and sold it. It kept us on the right side of the law and our consciences clear.
“Let’s start by finding the dampening charm. Got a lead?” I asked Del.
She closed her eyes, no doubt focusing on her dragon sense. An ugly little twinge of jealousy hit me, but mostly it was a sense of loss. I’d only been without my powers for a week, and I was already flailing.
“That way.” Del pointed toward the edge of the room near the mummy’s feet. “In that small box on the floor, I bet.”
I went to it and dropped to my knees.
“You do that,” Del said. “I’m going to see if I can find a latch to open a door to get out of here. I don’t think the boat will go back through the wall.”
“Okay.” I reached for the box. It was the kind that had a lot of little fasteners to open it. I worked at them, being as careful as I could.
There was a flash of golden light, then Del’s exclamation. “Got it!”
I glanced up. She was standing near an arched gap in the wall. A door. Good.
I turned back to the box and opened it. A wide, gold bracelet sat on a bed of white cloth. I reached for the cuff. Torchlight glimmered on its shining golden surface, but it wasn’t the gold that was so entrancing. It was the promise of its magic. If this worked, I’d have my powers back.
My fingers trembled as they grazed the smooth surface. I gripped it and picked it up, sliding it onto my wrist, where it sat, cool and heavy.
“Shit!” Del cried.
I whirled around.
Five demons had appeared, their burnished red skin gleaming in the torchlight. Small horns protruded from their heads, and their fangs peeked out from their upper lips. They were armed with flaming swords, and their magic smelled like a garbage fire.
Oh, we were screwed.
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Glossary
Alpha Council - There are two governments that enforce law for supernaturals—the Alpha Council and the Order of the Magica. The Alpha Council governs all shifters. They work cooperatively with Alpha Council when necessary - for example, when capturing FireSouls.
ArchMage - The greatest mage of that particular skill. For example, the ArchMage of Fire Mages. There can also be an ArchWitch or ArchSorcerer.
Blood Sorceress - A type of Magica who can create magic using blood.
Conjurer - A Magica who uses magic to create something from nothing. They cannot create magic, but if there is magic around them, they can put that magic into their conjuration.
Dark Magic - The kind that is meant to harm. It’s not necessarily bad, but it often is.
Deirfiúr - Sisters in Irish.
Demons - Often employed to do evil. They live in various hells but can be released upon the earth if you know how to get to them and then get them out. If they are killed on earth, they are sent back to their hell.
Dragon Sense - A FireSoul’s ability to find treasure. It is an internal sense pulls them toward what they seek. It is easiest to find gold, but they can find anything or anyone that is valued by someone.
Elemental Mage – A rare type of mage who can manipulate all of the elements.
Enchanted Artifacts – Artifacts can be imbued with magic that lasts after the death of the person who put the magic into the artifact (unlike a spell that has not been put into an artifact—these spells disappear after the Magica’s death). But magic is not stable. After a period of time—hundreds or thousands of years depending on the circumstance—the magic will degrade. Eventually, it can go bad and cause many problems.
Fire Mage – A mage who can control fire.
FireSoul - A very rare type of Magica who shares a piece of the dragon’s soul. They can locate treasure and steal the gifts (powers) of other supernaturals. With practice, they can manipulate the gifts they steal, becoming the strongest of that gift. They are despised and feared. If they are caught, they are thrown in the Prison of Magical Miscreants.
The Great Peace - The most powerful piece of magic ever created. It hides magic from the eyes of humans.
Half-blood - A supernatural who is half one species and half another. Example: shifter and Magica.
Heart of Glencarrough - The child who tends the Heartstone.
Hearth Witch – A Magica who is versed in magic relating to hearth and home. They are often good and potions and protective spells and are also very perceptive when on their own turf.
Magica - Any supernatural who has the power to create magic—witches, sorcerers, mages. All are governed by the Order of the Magica.
Mirror Mage - A Magica who can temporarily borrow the powers of other supernaturals. They can mimick the powers as long as the are near the other supernatural. Or they can hold onto the power, but once they are away from the other supernatural, they can only use it once.
The Origin - The descendent of the original alpha shifter. They are the most powerful shifter and can turn into any species.
Order of Holy Knowledge - A group of monks who collect and protect knowledge that live on an island in Ireland. They are supernaturals, but they do not use their powers.
Order of the Magica - There are two governments that enforce law for supernaturals—the Alpha Council and the Order of the Magica. The Order of the Magica govern all Magica. They work cooperati
vely with Alpha Council when necessary - for example, when capturing FireSouls.
Phantom - A type of supernatural that is similar to a ghost. They are incorporeal. They feed off the misery and pain of others, forcing them to relive their greatest nightmares and fears. They do not have a fully functioning mind like a human or supernatural. Rather, they are a shadow of their former selves. Half bloods are extraordinarily rare.
Scroll of Truths - A compendium of knowledge about the strongest supernaturals. It is a prophetic scroll that includes information about future powerful beings.
Seeker - A type of supernatural who can find things. FireSouls often pass off their dragon sense as being Seeker power.
Shifter - A supernatural who can turn into an animal. All are governed by the Alpha Council.
Transporter - A type of supernatural who can travel anywhere. Their power is limited and must regenerate after each use.
Ancient Magic Author’s Note
Hey, there! I hope you enjoyed reading Ancient Magic as much as I enjoyed writing it. In addition to being a writer, I’m also an archaeologist. As a kid, I loved history (because of the fantasy and historic romance novels I read), Indiana Jones, and Laura Croft. When I started writing novels, it was only a matter of time before I applied my love of archaeology and history to my stories.
Hence, Dragon’s Gift was born. However, I knew I had a careful line to tread when writing these books. As I’m sure you know, archaeology isn’t quite like Indiana Jones (for which I’m both grateful and bitterly disappointed). Sure, it’s exciting and full of travel. However, booby-traps are not as common as I expected. Total number of booby-traps I have encountered in my career: zero. Still hoping, though.
When I talk about treading a line with these books, I mean the line between archaeology and treasure hunting. There is a big difference between these two activities. As much as I value artifacts, they are not treasure. Not even the gold artifacts. They are pieces of our history that contain valuable information, and as such, they belong to all of us. Every artifact that is excavated should be properly conserved and stored in a museum so that everyone can have access to our history. No one single person can own history, and I believe very strongly that individuals should not own artifacts. Treasure hunting is the pursuit of artifacts for personal gain.