Recreated

by Colleen Houck

“Trusting the gods is a foolhardy endeavor. They only want to protect themselves. I will be well enough off, and I promise I will find a way to wait for you and will meet you again when it is time for you to pass on to the next plane of existence. That will only happen after you have lived a long life filled with love and mortal experience. You must not think of me or of this. This path that you are attempting is too dangerous.”

  “But it’s the only way to save you. The Devourer will come for you, Amon. She will consume your heart and destroy the world. I won’t let that happen.”

  He was silent for a moment. “Tell me everything they said,” he urged.

  I rehearsed to him all the details I could remember, and when I was done, I asked, “Amon? Are you still there?”

  “I am here, Nehabet.”

  “So do you see? This isn’t just about us anymore. This is about protecting the world.”

  Quietly, he asserted, “It would have been better had the two of us never met. Perhaps then I would be, if not happy in my calling, then at least compliant.”

  I swallowed. “Do you really regret meeting me?” I asked, almost afraid to hear his answer.

  “Lily.” His voice broke and there was such longing, such despair attached to my name that the weight of it crushed my heart.

  “I love you, Amon, and I have no regrets either,” I declared. “That includes doing what I have to do now. I will find a way to you. I promise.”

  “If you are determined to walk this path, then there is nothing I can do to stop you.”

  “But you would rather I didn’t.”

  “The loss of the whole world holds less meaning for me than the loss of one lovely hair on your head.”

  “Amon.” I sighed his name, wishing he were holding me in his arms. “I’ve got to do this.”

  “Then I will watch over you and advise you when opportunity permits.”

  “Just stay alive until I get there. Otherwise, this will all have been for nothing.”

  “I will make every effort.”

  “So do you have any advice for me now?”

  “Embrace your instincts.”

  “That’s not very specific.”

  “You will understand when the time comes.” I sensed there was more he wanted to tell me but he couldn’t bring himself to. Finally, he said, “I wish I could be with you. Protect you. I am pained to know that danger stalks you.”

  “I think danger stalks you more than it does me.”

  “There is no beast, no demon, more ferocious than the fear I feel knowing there is nothing I can do to help you.”

  “Isis did give me her tears. That is supposed to protect me from at least some of the monsters.”

  “Yes.” He sighed. “But only those that fear her wrath. And in the netherworld, those are not many.”

  “If it makes you feel better. I wish you were with me, too.”

  He said nothing for a moment as he thought, and then murmured, “Perhaps I can be.”

  “Really?” I asked, excited by the prospect. “How?”

  “To be clear, it won’t be me. Not really. But since we are linked, you can use my power to call upon Nebu.”

  “Nebu, the desert stallion?”

  “Yes. There is the possibility that he might not heed your call, but seeking his protection is worth trying.”

  “Okay.”

  Amon and I practiced the spell to call Nebu until his words changed from warnings and instruction to soft promises and whispered wishes that warmed my heart.

  At some point, our minds drifted, but the memory of our entwined thoughts sustained me in my sleep. I took comfort that at least this time I’d told him I loved him. I didn’t know how many hours passed, but when I sensed a change in the environment, I woke instantly and saw that a crescent moon was high in the sky, spilling its waning light over the landscape as dawn approached.

  It was time. My skin throbbed, the anticipation jarring my bones.

  I rose from my earthen bed, not even bothering to swipe the clumps of dirt from my dress and hair, and brushed the back of my hand against my mouth. The night creatures had settled into their beds and the day creatures had not yet risen. I was alone.

  After sating my thirst once again and adjusting my skirts so I wouldn’t trip, I briefly contemplated which way to go, but as I searched my instincts, I knew I needed to head toward the rising sun. The sun brought life.

  I ran.

  The sun was not quite at its zenith in the sky when I stopped. Panting lightly, I scanned the horizon in all directions, but it appeared the plain was deserted.

  I knew it wasn’t.

  The brush of tall golden grass tickled my fingers and the dry stalks snapped under the heels of my golden sandals. On the left I scanned a copse of umbrella-shaped trees with thin leaves. On the right there was a sepia-toned outcropping of rocks that looked as out of place on the grassy plain as if a giant had dropped them there accidentally.

  After I started toward the rocks, a strong breeze rose, causing the grass to rustle and echo the voice of a thousand whispers. I was halfway there when I realized something was wrong. The rocks were not the place I needed to go. Stopping, I closed my eyes and inhaled. A sweet sort of musk tickled my nostrils and I turned the other way. Each step I took felt portentous.

  The swaying grasses were sparser the closer I got to the trees. The thin leaves shook wildly and then stilled, the breeze seemingly holding its breath. A hum rose like the sound of a million cicadas and the wild noise distracted and confused me.

  My heart beat heavily in my chest, as if it were signaling to whatever waited for me that I was there and I was vulnerable. Then, suddenly, the reverberating hum ceased; the only sound was my soft breathing. I was rooted in place, completely unable to move back or to the side, and I dared not take another step forward. I could only shift my feet nervously. All my senses were alive and trained on the thing hidden in the trees that I couldn’t see.

  A flicker of movement on the left caught my attention.

  Mustering all the bravery I could, I clenched my fists and called out, “Why don’t you come out, then? I know you’re there.”

  A rumble so deep it echoed in my chest startled me. A hiss came from behind with the crunch of dried brush. A tawny tail disappeared behind a tree. Another growl came from my left and I realized there was more than just one creature.

  I ran.

  Fear ate through me like acid and yet every sense was heightened, alert. Beasts, no longer attempting to be stealthy, circled me and kept pace, creeping closer with each footfall. The nearness of them sent tingles all along my back, but I dared not turn and look. That would make them real.

  I made it into the circle of the trees before I skidded to a stop. If the creatures behind me were frightening, they were nothing compared to what waited beneath the large tree in the center of the grove. Not thirty feet away was the largest cat I’d ever seen. His sleepy eyes suddenly opened to a state of alertness. He flicked his thick-tufted tail in annoyance as he rose from his shady napping place.

  As he shook out a dense, impressive mane several shades darker than his tawny fur, I was momentarily distracted by the dust floating away from him into the afternoon sunbeams.

  The huge lion moved forward, gaining speed much more quickly than I expected an animal of his size to be able to do, and slid to a stop just in front of me. When he roared, the power of it nearly burst my eardrums. My whole body shook with panic, the aftershocks of his warning sound rippling over my skin.

  He twisted his head back and forth as his mouth opened, flashing his impressively sharp teeth. Another rumbling growl told me we’d been joined by not one, but several cats that together formed a lethal assemblage. At least two dozen females had materialized from the tall grasses around the trees, and two more males, albeit smaller than the one facing me, approached the group also.

  Once the entire pride arrived, they paced back and forth, growling and hissing, waiting for the signal to strike. The circle of de
ath was frightening enough to make the devil drop his pitchfork and run, but all I could do was tremble in my golden sandals and wait for something to happen.

  Nothing did.

  I was expecting an attack, but the lions seemed to be waiting for something else. The male lifted his head and roared before stepping aside, signaling it was time for me to go. I took one hesitant step forward and then another.

  When I reached the tree line nearly a quarter mile away and passed the tallest of them, I heard the crack of thunder. Although there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, a hum of electricity made the tiny hairs at the nape of my neck stand on end.

  I turned to peer at the group, shading my eyes from the sun, and heard the male bellow loudly. He repeated the action three times before all the females sat down. All except one. She strode forward, nuzzling him, but kept her eyes focused ahead. On me. With a final earsplitting roar, the male stepped back and the female answered. Before I could blink, she was headed toward me at full speed.

  A gasp of horror escaped my lips, my heart quickening. Spinning, I raced over the crest of a looming hill and across the terrain as fast as my legs could carry me. I leapt over a fallen tree and a few seconds later heard the scrape of her claws on the bark. Ducking through underbrush, I twisted and turned, desperate to escape the lioness chasing me, but I was a clumsy sort of prey.

  If I’d had a weapon, I could perhaps have fought her off. She was nearly on top of me. As I stumbled over a rock, her claws raked down the length of my dress and the ripped fabric trailed behind me, catching on branches and bushes. When I darted across a shallow stream, she leapt quickly to the other side, turning to face me. She crouched down, her golden eyes assesssing me, her powerful limbs flexing.

  If I was going to be dinner for a hungry pride of lions, then at least I could give them a good run for it.

  After kicking water in her face, I spun and ran back in the direction I’d come from. My breath came in heavy gusts and my stomach clenched; I knew that at any second I was going to feel her claws sinking into my back and her teeth kissing my throat. I despaired, knowing that I’d die here. I’d never find Amon and never save those I loved.

  I wondered how long Dr. Hassan would wait for me. Would he find my gnawed bones and give me a proper burial? Would he even know what had happened to me? If only I could see Amon again before I died. Stand in his embrace once more. Thinking of Amon made me remember what he’d said the night before. He’d cautioned me to embrace my instincts. So what was my gut telling me?

  I was scared. Was it possible that this lioness was the one who would judge my worthiness? I’d been expecting an actual sphinx or a monster of some kind. Not an average, everyday lion. Perhaps I’d been thinking about everything wrong. Isis had said that if I was judged unworthy, then my heart would be consumed. What was I supposed to do?

  It was soon obvious that the lioness was toying with me instead of finishing me off. As the sun sank in the west, I knew I wouldn’t have the energy to continue much longer. Oscar’s words returned to me then about how death was found in the sunset and life in the east. I was headed toward death.

  Finally coming to a stop, I turned to face my pursuer. The lioness paused and growled softly, as if disappointed that the mouse she’d been playing with was no longer interested in the game.

  “Look,” I said. “I’m not sure if you’re the answer to this riddle. I don’t know if you want to just wear me out or if you really mean to eat me, but either way I’m making the choice to live. I don’t want my heart to be eaten.

  “I’ve got to save the world, and I need to find the creature that lives out here somewhere who will share her heart so I can become a sphinx and get the job done. If that is you, then fine, let’s get the show on the road. If it’s not, then I’d very much like to be left alone so that I can go and find the huntress.”

  The lioness sat on her haunches, her tail flicking back and forth. Then, all at once, she leapt.

  Lifting my head, I whispered, “I’m sorry,” hoping the wind would carry the sentiment to Amon. I knew that my hopes and dreams for the future no longer mattered. I was unworthy. It was time to accept my fate. I opened my arms and embraced my death.

  When the large cat hit my body, I felt like a bowling pin knocked over by a speeding ball. It wasn’t the kind of gentle tap, either, where the bowler was unsure if the ball would even make it all the way to the end of the lane. I didn’t wobble back and forth, undecided over whether I’d tip or not. She was heavy, and the blow meant that I was the type of pin that smashed into anything and everything in my wake.

  I ended up on my back, her bone-crushing weight on top of me making me struggle just to inhale. Overhead, the afternoon sky had darkened and I heard the heavy boom of thunder. My arms were wrapped around the lioness, and I clutched the tawny fur of her heaving sides in a death lock, praying for it all to be over quickly.

  Her sharp claws pierced the skin directly over my heart, and I felt her moist breath on my cheek. As she shifted, draping her body across my own, her left paw settled at the top of my shoulder, and I somehow managed to take in a tiny pull of oxygen. The lioness settled her head next to mine, tucking it into the gap between my shoulder and neck, and though I waited for the sharp bite that would rip open my jugular, it didn’t come.

  She burrowed closer. So close it felt as if I were caught in quicksand once again, but this time with a creature three times my size dragging me down. I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t dying. Why she wasn’t eating me. I knew cats tended to suffocate their prey by crushing the windpipe, and even though I could barely inhale or exhale, she didn’t seem to be in any hurry.

  Minutes passed, and I wondered if she’d fallen asleep. Tentatively, I brushed my fingertips over her fur, but there was no response. The weight didn’t seem as bad as it had been just moments before. I was finally able to catch my breath and groaned at the pain I felt in my torso. Her head lolled and I twisted mine to peer up at her, but her golden eyes were glazed over with a sheen of unseeing moisture.

  It wasn’t long before I was able to begin twisting out from beneath her, but before I thrust her limp body aside, I heard an irritated voice in my head. Remain still until the transformation is complete.

  I stopped moving and wondered where the voice had come from. Was it Isis? Some other Egyptian goddess I’d yet to meet? What kind of transformation was going on, exactly? I tried to pry the paw away from my chest but couldn’t. The claws were sunk into me so deeply, I marveled at how fortunate I was that she hadn’t ripped my heart from my chest. Giving up, I lay there quietly until something happened, something even stranger than the body of the lioness dissolving before my eyes.

  My heightened senses alerted me to a stranger I couldn’t see. I wasn’t alone. The more the lioness disappeared, the more tangible and real the ghostly presence became.

  The voice that had spoken to me wasn’t Isis. I was sure of it now. What was even more alarming was that the being I sensed was with me. Not next to me, and not on another plane of existence, like when Amon was with me in my dreams, but actually with me, in my mind. I could feel her like I could feel the shoes on my feet or the hair brushing the back of my neck.

  You can feel it now, can you not? said the voice.

  “Who…who are you?” I asked.

  That is not the right question.

  “Then what question should I be asking?”

  The correct phrasing would be “Who are we?”

  “We?” I swallowed. My mouth was suddenly as dry as a desert, and I licked my lips in a vain attempt to moisten them.

  Yes. We. You are no longer Lilliana Young and I am no longer what I once was.

  “What…did you used to be?”

  I was the creature you hold in your arms.

  Glancing down at the form of the dead lioness becoming more and more transparent, I asked, “This was you? I mean, the voice I hear now is from the lioness?”

  Not exactly. In my corporeal form I was an animal bou
nd by instinct. My thoughts were simple. My purpose was survival. I have given up my physical body to become something new, saving the best parts of myself to bring to this union of minds. I am, no longer. You are, no longer.

  We are reborn.

  We are sphinx.

  “Okay, assuming that’s true, then why am I having a conversation with myself?”

  The merging of our minds occurs over time. Eventually, there will be only one voice and one mind. If this does not happen—

  “Then I’ll go insane.”

  Yes.

  “Right. So how long do I…do we,” I corrected myself, “need to stay here?”

  Until my former body disappears completely. The process should only take a few more minutes.

  She was now so translucent it was like trying to touch a dream.

  The voice was silent for a moment, and then she added, You do not need to address me vocally, you know. I can hear and understand your thoughts.

  “Is it okay if I speak to you verbally for now? At least until I get used to this?”

  As you wish.

  “Will you miss it?” I asked, curious. “Being a lioness, I mean?”

  She didn’t answer right away. Finally, she said, Individually, our forms were mortal, fragile, weak. And the weak must make way for the strong. If we are to grow together, this is something you must come to understand. As I considered her words, she added, It is time. You may arise.

  I hadn’t even noticed that the nearly invisible form of the lioness had completely disappeared.

  “I’m sorry,” I said as I got carefully to my feet, groaning at the ache in my body.

  Sorry? For what? the voice asked in surprise.

  “Sorry for what you’ve lost.”

  I have not lost. I have gained.

  “You might not feel that way if this thing we’re doing doesn’t work.”

  She was quiet for a moment, and then said, If we fail, at least we strived to break free of the bounds set upon us. No one can disparage us for the attempt we’ve made to become something more.

  “I suppose not.”

  I…no, we lifted our head and inhaled. The sharp tang of water called to us and we began running in the direction it wafted from. On the journey, the voice of my inner companion pointed out the tracks of animals and identified scents that I could discern but couldn’t categorize.