Several sharp instruments lined the stone top: scalpels made of black stone; odd long, thin hooks; a small sickle; a dagger adorned with cedar and ivory; and ten thin syringes, each filled with one milliliter of a transparent, brown liquid. A rolled up scroll, two bowls, and five jars sat in the back, neatly organized into a row. The closest bowl Natti could spy was filled with clean, clear water. The other looked to be a dark amber wine with herbs and a powder sprinkled across the top. Four of the five jars, Natti recognized from pictures of embalming rituals. There was Duamutef, guardian of the stomach; Hapi, guardian of the lungs; Imsety, guardian of the liver; and Qebehsenuf, guardian of the intestines. The fifth possessed the head of the same figure staring at her from above.
Fear made Natti’s breathing shallow and uneasy, making her aware of the heavy scent of myrrh in the air. The scent was intoxicating. Her mind swam inside her head, causing the room to spin round her. The hieroglyphs painted on the walls blurred and doubled. Images of her mother’s body and the casket spun in her head.
“Help!” she choked, her mouth tasting like she swallowed a boot. “Dear God, please! Somebody help me!”
“We are a hundred feet below the surface, my dear.” A searing pain shot through her forehead as Sean stepped from the shadows. “There is no use in crying for help. No one can hear you.”
She looked over at him, seeing that he was wearing white, linen robes. Except for his thick head of hair, every exposed part of him was clean shaven. His body was spotless. His nails perfectly manicured. His eyes colored with black kohl. They were even more intense than before, drawing her easily into their cold, bottomless pools.
“What . . .” she trailed off, so overwhelmed from the scents and sights she couldn’t process it all. “What do you want from me?”
Sean picked up the dagger and examined it. “All in good time, my dear. We have from now until sunrise to chat.”
He brushed a hand over the skin of her arm. Icy chills coursed through Natti’s body. Strong, lustful sensations boiled her blood and caused her heart to race.
“Please . . .” she begged, trying to think while her mind was spinning from everything that was happening to her. “If . . . If this has something to do with my grandmother’s letter, I don’t have it! Seth . . . Seth does.”
Sean just smiled. “This would be much easier on the both of us if you quit resisting my charm. Just let yourself fall under my spell, relax.”
“Spell?” A headache flared.
“Yes, my charm is my magic, Ms. Stone. My family’s gift. A blessing from the god, Set, himself.” He flashed an enchanting grin. “A gift my son also carries, though he never understood its potential like I do. He never understood the possibilities in controlling others’ minds.”
Natti couldn’t believe the truth of his words. “You’re crazy! There’s no such thing as magic or gifts from the gods!”
He placed the flat part of the blade against her jawline, making her flinch. “You’re a very good actress. I almost believe you. But you, too, as you very well know, carry a gift. A rare gift, in fact. You are blessed with Ma ‘at.”
He let the dagger’s blade slide gently down her neck. The cold steel sent goose bumps across her skin. She took a hard swallow before finally pulling the courage to speak again.
“Ma ‘at?” She remembered the fading ostrich feather on her shoulder. “You . . . You had mentioned that before. It’s . . . It’s truth . . . right?”
“You should know better than anyone, Daughter of Isis.”
Natti’s throat caught on her sudden panic. A daughter of what? “What . . . What are you talking about? What is a . . . a . . . ‘Daughter of Isis’?”
Sean latched his hand onto her arm. Natti screamed in fright. The sharp edge of the blade slipped gently over her skin, cutting into her flesh. Sean grinned with delight and took the bowl of clean water. Natti watched, terrified, as he milked her wound. His working fingers inflamed the already burning flesh. Her blood swirled, each drop dispersing into the clear liquid. Once the water had turned into a dark crimson, he mumbled a few words and set it aside. He let the wound continue to bleed onto the stone, embellishing the embossed hieroglyphs.
It took Natti a while to come out of her shock. She gulped, trying to figure out what the hell was going on and how this related to her family’s secret and the locket. “I asked you a question. What does any of this have to do with me?”
Sean leaned over, letting his eyes bore into hers. “Relax. Look deep into my eyes. Let your mind fall silent.”
Her mind was beginning to drift, collapsing into a chilling, mindless thought. Before she could be completely drawn in, she shut her eyes. “Please, stop,” she whispered, her head pounding.
She felt Sean’s fingers brush over her cheek. “Don’t fight it, my love. Relax.”
Natti moved her face in the opposite direction, repelled by his touch. Sean growled in frustration, withdrawing his hand. Natti released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and slowly opened her eyes. She looked up at Seth’s father, his attention concentrated on the various tools before him.
“Ma ‘at must be stronger than I anticipated. No one has ever resisted my power. But that does not matter,” he hissed, and Natti’s headache eased away. “You may be immune to my charm, but you will not be able to resist the power of Set.”
“Set?” Natti screeched. As in the murderous god Seth spoke of? She glanced at the statue. Oh God, this can’t be happening! This just can’t! “What the hell is going on here? What is it that you want from me?”