by Allie Burton
“Say what?” Her feet stumbled.
He ignored her shock and kept confessing. “Because they couldn’t predict if a full lunar eclipse would happen on the year of my sixteenth birthday during the summer solstice, the Society read a secret chant.” He rushed on, knowing she’d never believe him. “Instead of inheriting the soul of King Tut, I changed into a stone shabti warrior meant to serve in the Afterlife.”
“Say what, what?” She shook her head as if her ears deceived her.
Or he did.
“I know it sounds pretty incredible.” He kept shuffling forward, making physical progress, knowing he was headed backward in her estimation. “I followed Imhotep. He was a scholar, mathematician, architect, doctor.”
“So you’re a stone warrior?” Her teasing tone caused his skin to flare. Why wasn’t she shocked or disbelieving? “You don’t appear to be made of stone.”
Flames exploded inside him, remembering her lips against his, her body pressed against him. She was flirting with him, and had kissed him earlier. She must have feelings for him. Deep feelings. Feelings he returned and wouldn’t share until only the truth lay between them.
He tripped on his words in a rush to get them out. “I was. Until Xander and Olivia freed Tut’s soul and broke the curse of the amulet. Seven stone shabtis came to life. Me, and my brothers.”
She swung her head and gaped at him. Her expression gave nothing away. “Let’s say I believed this entire ridiculous scenario. What is you and your brothers’ purpose?”
The first part she phrased in a way that made him feel stupid, but the second part of the question dug deep, searching for truth.
“We serve for goodness and light and love.” With pride resounding, he recited his oath. How could she not be impressed?
Her laughter screeched in his ears and crushed his heart. His shoulders scrunched, trying to block the high-pitched squeal. He’d wanted to impress her, not be the butt of her jokes.
Offended, he bristled. He wanted her to believe.
His feet thundered on the pavement. “We do serve. Olivia and Xander saved the world from ecological disaster by the Society of Aten.” He stomped his foot harder to emphasize his point. “Falcon and Aria beat the curse of the Trumpet of War and saved the world from destruction.” Math stomped again. “I plan to reunite the Trumpet of Peace with the Trumpet of War to bring peace and harmony to the world. While the Order of Crucis and the Society of Aten are battling over the instrument to use its powers to rule the world.”
She wasn’t laughing now. “Not possible.” She sounded winded.
He cleared his head and watched her analytically. Not through the eyes of someone smitten, but as a scientist. Her skin paled and she measured her steps as she scanned the ground. She was thinking. Why wasn’t she shocked by the news?
She’d taken the information of how he’d risen to life from a stone statue well. Even teased him about it. And yet, she’d been astounded and appalled when he’d told her about the Order’s Magical Convergence Ceremony.
Piper must know more about the Soul Warriors than she’d let on. She must be more deeply ingrained with the Order than she’d admitted. She must’ve kept secrets and told lies and even kissed him to gain his trust.
Shame frosted his body, cooling his ardor and attraction. He wanted to disappear into the fog. Had he played a complete fool? He’d spilled his entire secret to impress a girl, risking not only his existence, but his warrior brothers.
Chapter Eleven
Piper
One minute we were walking and talking and sharing, and then Math clammed up. His sullen expression matched his droopy shoulders. He’d continued to move forward, not saying a single word. His heavy footsteps echoed on the street.
Confusion rattled through me, causing my feet to stutter. I didn’t know what to say. One minute he was talking freely and the next silent. I felt his anxiety like the thick fog.
“Stay here.” He pushed me behind a bush bordering the mansion’s lawns and trekked around the building.
Huddling by the leafy bush, I let confusion and resentment go and took in the scent of the ocean. The rough blue work shirt I wore rubbed against my skin, reminding me of what we’d been through together. That we were a team.
Math sped back toward me wearing his matching shirt and a frown. I thought he had bad news.
“House is empty.”
“That’s good, right?” It would give us time to search for the trumpet. Breaking into the mansion should be easy with Math’s powers.
“Let’s go.” He wrapped his arms around me.
“Why do we need to jump?” I felt the heat from his body and the coldness from his glance. His stiff arms had to be from fear, not because he didn’t want to hold me.
“House is locked. Window on the balcony is open.” He leapt into the air, carrying me along for the ride.
And it was a great ride. Prepared, I kept my eyes open.
We sailed up and over the mansion’s garden. The ocean waves pounded against the cliff the house was built on. A rock-carved stairway led from the beach to the backyard.
I enjoyed the rush of flying and the thrilling charge of being in Math’s arms. I trusted him.
The thought whopped me on the side of the head and caused my heart to stumble. I trusted him. Maybe because of his intense gaze or his caring and concern. Maybe because of his sharing of confidences. Maybe because of his great body. There wasn’t one specific thing I could point to that had earned my trust.
I didn’t give my trust easily. It had taken Aaron months to win me over as a kid. As a teen, I’d begun to dislike and distrust him again because of his belief in the ridiculous. But now I was learning some of what he said was true. Still, his blatant hatred of the Soul Warriors and the way he used people, including me, made everything he said and did suspect.
Aaron had told me not to believe Math. That Math wanted to destroy the world. Which was the exact opposite of what Math had said. I’d only gone along with Aaron’s plan to make my escape easier.
Flying through the night sky, determination flew through me, plopping and landing in my gut. I wasn’t obediently following any longer. I was making my own decisions, based on new knowledge and instincts. At the moment, I put my trust in Math to find the trumpet and once we found the instrument, I’d have to decide what to do.
If I told Math about my mother’s situation, what would he think? Would he help or hinder? Would his need for the trumpet override his need to help me?
We landed on a second-story balcony and Math immediately dropped his arms from around me, not lingering in the embrace. The loss of warmth slid down my spine and with it a tingling sensation. Was it because we were in a precarious situation or because Math didn’t care?
Shaking off my misgivings, I followed him into a nicely-decorated hallway and down a grand staircase. We were both quiet even knowing there was no one home. The large, floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the views of the Pacific Ocean. The marble floors shone, reflecting my confused expression.
Math seemed to know where he was going. He must’ve studied the mansion’s layout. He stopped in front of a set of double doors, turned the knob and flung one of the doors open.
Bright lights hit, causing me to squint. “What is this room?”
“It’s the Holy of Holies, where members of the Society pray.” Math stepped inside the room.
I followed, uneasiness sliding through me.
Glass and lights surrounded me. Fluorescent and grow lights filled the ceiling. Their harsh glare gave the room an eerie, false-daylight ambience. The entire ceiling and the far wall were windows. Sliding glass doors led outside to a deck where columns divided the space and colorful streamers flitted in the breeze. An altar filled the center of the room and above it, hanging from the ceiling, was the image of the sun with dangling rays ending in hands.
Creepy. The hands appeared to be reaching out for me.
I shivered even with the lights highlighting m
y skin. “This is so different than the worship rooms of the Order.”
The Order’s subterranean rooms were dark and filled with statues and murals of gory battles and vengeful gods and goddesses. The Convergence Ceremony Room we’d discovered had been the worst, with its platform set up to deliver sacrifices. While in here, even the cabinets lining the interior walls were painted white.
The Order and Society differed in more than interior decorating. They were enemies and competitors, only working together when one group believed they had the advantage.
Math jerked around to glower. “How so?”
His clipped question made me question my comment. Guilt stabbed my midsection and rippled outward in waves of contrition. He believed I’d only seen the one ceremonial room underneath the museum.
“This is light and airy and all about the sun. While the Order’s ceremonial room,” I emphasized the singular, “is dark and claustrophobic.”
“The Society of Aten worships the sun god.” He didn’t go into details.
More closed-off behavior. Had I done something to anger him?
Edging toward the altar, my shoes tapped on the white marble floor. Stale incense choked my throat. I held the cough in. “Shouldn’t we be searching places where the trumpet could be hidden?”
“Since this is their ceremonial room, I thought it would be a good place to start.” He strode by and stood in front of the altar. “Besides at the pawn shop, have you ever seen the silver trumpet before?”
“No.” I moved to one of the cabinets and put my hand on the handle, wanting to avoid getting caught in the crosshairs of his sharp gaze. We didn’t have time to play twenty questions. The people who lived, and worshipped, here could come home at any minute.
He followed, not letting me out of his immediate vicinity. “So you’ve never seen or played the silver trumpet?”
The question punched low. “No. I told you that before.” My hand slipped off the handle and I scowled. Why was he asking me these questions?
He took my chin between his fingers. His eyes gave off a harsh glare. “Do you feel anything?”
Feel anything about him? My heart danced and jived, getting stuck in my throat. I swallowed, feeling so much for him, but I hadn’t analyzed it and I couldn’t put my feelings into words. Not yet. “What?”
“Can you sense an energy or a power?” The intensity of his tone matched the intensity of his stare. He willed me to feel something.
“What do you mean?”
Confusion and anxiety dripped in my veins. According to Math, centuries ago he was the Chosen One for this organization. Was his religious fervor returning from being in this ceremonial room?
Dropping my chin, Math took a step back. Either he was aware of my nervousness or he didn’t want to be close. “I’ve been thinking about why the trumpet didn’t have an effect on you. Why you didn’t fall asleep.”
“And?” It was like I was hanging from one of the cliffs outside.
He studied me, raking his gaze across my face. “Some people…can sense the trumpet.”
“I’ve never tried.” Wasn’t sure I wanted to.
I remembered the humming and the pull when the thief had played the trumpet at the pawn shop. Couldn’t be magic.
“Close your eyes.” Math’s demand chafed, but I did as asked. “Try to feel your surroundings. I’ll keep searching.”
Feeling silly, I closed my eyes. “I don’t know how to sense an object.”
“You don’t have to know, you just do.” His voice came closer. “Relax.” His hand touched my shoulder and squeezed.
The squeeze sent a jolt of electricity through me. How could I relax and concentrate with Math touching me? I peeked at him standing beside me. The muscles on his face softened, and his gaze was at half-mast. Like he cared.
About me.
I swooned and my body wavered. Focusing on anything except Math and my feelings would be next to impossible. But I had to. For him. He was counting on me. Plus, who knew how much more time we’d have in the mansion alone?
Taking a deep breath, I blocked my feelings for him and centered my thoughts on the room. The creepy sun decoration. The scent of old incense in the air. The bright light.
My body warmed. My bloodstream expanded, flowing with extra sensation. A humming filled my soul. A song calling to me.
An instrument?
A trumpet?
Couldn’t be. When I’d had the weird tugging sensation at the pawn shop someone had been playing. No one played now. I heard nothing except the beating in my chest.
And the blood flowing in my veins like someone had pushed the gas pedal of my heart. My pulse points pounded at my wrists and neck. My body pivoted in another direction. Could this be possible? Could I sense the trumpet?
The pulsing pumped into excitement. I could sense the trumpet. I could find the instrument and help Math. Help my mom.
Doom boomed in my lungs and echoed outward. Why could I sense the trumpet?
“I feel something.” I bit my lip, not wanting to admit this connection I had with a magical relic. A connection I didn’t understand.
“Keep your eyes closed.” Math’s soft tone held an edge, as if he was angry or excited, yet trying to stay calm. “Can you tell if the trumpet is in this room? How strong is the sensation?”
Humming roared, resembling a finely-tuned engine. It flowed through my bloodstream and tickled my skin. “Strong.”
And freaking me out.
“I’m going to take your arm.” His fingers grasped my upper arm in a soft hug. “With your eyes closed, walk toward the sensation and I’ll make sure you don’t bump into anything.”
A different kind of warmth soaked into my skin. He was so sweet. The humming sensation stopped for a second. I was thinking about Math and not the trumpet.
“Go ahead.” He squeezed my arm.
Trying to ignore him, I focused on the sensation, trying to connect with the humming. Trying to concentrate. I didn’t know if this would find the trumpet, almost wished it didn’t because then I’d know for sure I had a connection. But this was our only lead.
I took a couple of steps. The humming buzzed down my spine and I changed directions.
Not knowing where I stood in the room, I stopped. “It’s here.”
I opened my eyes and inspected the stone bust of an ancient Egyptian sitting on top of one of the white cabinets. Familiar, the man had large ears, broad shoulders leading to a trim waist. The statue ended there. He didn’t appear to be decorated as a god or a pharaoh. The bust wasn’t large enough to hold the trumpet.
Disappointment dipped in my shoulders and frustration knotted my lower back. While I didn’t want a connection, I wanted to find the trumpet. I’d gotten scared and excited about the connection. Stupid magic. “What a waste of time.”
I couldn’t sense the trumpet. Whatever was humming in my veins wasn’t a special connection.
“Imhotep. The one who comes in peace.” Math laid his hand on top of the statue’s head.
I ignored his murmur.
His gaze was dazed like he was thinking. He was always thinking, which made me feel restless and inferior. He was named after a school subject because of his smarts, while I hadn’t attended school since first grade. He considered the possibilities, while I rushed into action. He studied history and technology and any other subject interesting to him, while I tinkered with cars and machines.
“Maybe the trumpet is in the cabinet.” I opened each of the drawers and found nothing. For a few minutes I’d hoped I was important and possibly powerful. That I could find the missing trumpet and save Mom. I’d been fooling myself. I wasn’t a hero. I was a mechanic, car thief, and future runaway. “Let’s search somewhere else in the house. I’m sure the Society people will be home soon.”
“Give me your hand.” Not giving me a chance to respond, Math grabbed my wrist and yanked it toward the bust.
This wasn’t a romantic gesture, the hand-holding I’d wanted.
“What’re you doing?”
He tugged my hand to the statue’s stone chest and placed my palm side down.
Humming vibrated from my palm and up my arm. My entire body trembled, my own personal earthquake.
“What’s going on?” My voice shook. I was scared.
The quaking rocked my body. My knees gave way. My glance shot around. The entire building wasn’t shaking. Just me.
Math gripped my arm tighter. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”
A scraping noise sounded. The stone under my palm began to separate, slide apart.
Open.
Silver glinted inside. The bell of the trumpet fit in Imhotep’s head. The long horn ran down the statue’s neck, chest, and stomach and into the cabinet it sat on. A fantastic hiding place.
Math let go of my arm. His emerald eyes opened like the statue. Wide and wonderous.
“The silver Trumpet of Peace.” Awe filled me. We’d found it. I’d found it. I did have a connection and I didn’t know why.
Why? Why? Why?
The single word tattooed on my soul. I didn’t have a clue why I could sense the Trumpet of Peace. I did know the connection couldn’t be good.
Math carefully took the trumpet, then peered back inside the statue. “No case, though.”
“So?”
With a narrowed gaze, he sized me up. “What about your mom’s jewel?”
My stomach dropped. I wanted to knock the side of my head. I’d completely forgotten that lie. “I’m learning the jewel isn’t as important as the trumpet.”
I was learning a lot of things. Like Aaron had lied and Mom was in danger.
“You’re sure?” Math angled his head, doubt in his eyes and tone. “We could search the mansion more.”
“And possibly get caught?” If I was caught by the Society of Aten and Aaron found out, I’d be dead. My head jerked back. Maybe it was time I told Math the truth. “I’d rather get out while we can.”
Yes, get out first and when it’s the right time tell him everything.
“Agreed.” Holding the trumpet with one hand, he put his arm around my shoulders and gave me a one-armed hug. “We never would’ve found the trumpet without your touch.”