I’m alive, Karim thought.But how? The last thing I remember was…
Seized with terror, Karim probed his chest where Setnakht had ripped into him. He expected to feel torn flesh and exposed bone—but the skin was unbroken.
Unbroken, but changed. He tilted his chin to inspect the raised scarring that spread over his left breast. To his amazement, the scar formed a recognizable design. A design drawn onto him as if by a divine hand.
A scarab.
Deep within him, his heart—feeling heavier somehow—began to race.
What sorcery is this?he wondered.
He sat up. If he needed proof that his recollection of the attack was genuine, his singed, blood-soaked robes were more than enough evidence. He winced as he peeled them off and dropped them into an evil-smelling heap.
Setnakhtdidtake my heart. But what happened after that? I died… So how am I still here?
He scanned the area. Sitamun was lying on her back an arm’s length away. She was unconscious, but thankfully looked unharmed. He put his palms on the ground, bracing for the pain that was sure to accompany his attempt to move toward her.Over the past couple weeks, not only had his chest been torn open but he’d also been kicked, slashed, burned, and slapped.
Suffice it to say, there was rarely a time when movement didn’t come with a fair measure of discomfort.
To Karim’s great surprise, however, he felt no pain. It was as if every wound he’d suffered had vanished with the dawn.
As the shock faded and his awareness returned, Karim noticed other differences in his body. A lightness. A prickling sensation that coursed through him, energizing him despite the horrific ordeal he’d just experienced. And through his eyes, the valley around him looked brighter, clearer, and more colorful than it had ever looked before.
Karim breathed, and the air was sweet.
He hadn’t simply been resurrected; he’d been remade.
Nearby, Sitamun stirred and groaned, distracting Karim from his frenzied thoughts. At the sound of her voice, a memory from beyond struck him like a lightning bolt.
Hers was the same voice that had reached him in another world.
Called to him.
Commanded him.
Dragged him back to his broken body and somehow mended it.
With new eyes, Karim saw the same radiance—the same half-remembered, divine light that had filled that place between life and death—emanating from the princess like a beacon.
It was her!Karim realized.Her voice! Her command!
Sitamun struggled up onto her elbows and took in her surroundings. When she saw him sitting there, staring at her, her eyes widened in astonishment.
“Sitamun,” he whispered hoarsely. “What have you done?”
The princess blinked. Her mouth opened, then closed.
Karim waited, expectant, growing more irritated with eachpassing second. “Well?”
“You’re…alive?” Sitamun finally blurted.
“Yes, I’m alive!” Karim sputtered, clambering unsteadily to his feet. He was covered in gore and wearing only a loincloth, but he didn’t care. “Youbrought me back!”
“Idid?” Sitamun said, bewildered. Following his lead, she stood up, wobbled like a newborn donkey, and collapsed. Karim caught her before she hit the ground. He led her to sit on a boulder, and the clouds in her eyes cleared. She beamed at him with childlike triumph. “I did!”
Karim squatted in front of her, amazed at how lithe his body felt. But no, no, he couldn’t think about that now. “I need to understand, sena. How did you do it?”
Sitamun’s expression turned to horror. “That…thing,” she said, her lip curling in disgust. “He tore you apart! He ripped out your heart! There was so much blood! So much…blood…” Her eyes rolled up into her head, and she sagged.
