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He takes my hand as he keeps an urgent pace, his cheeks pulling into a warm smile. "I told him he'd be a fool not to let my girlfriend make him look good."

Chapter nine

Through The Penumbra

By the time we reach the museum, it's already late for a Sunday. The building is closed, and the sun has set, leaving only the promise of stars, if not for the ominous dark funnel twisting above the museum, all too familiar. The sight urges us forward, and I quickly produce my special access card so we can slip in through the side entrance.

I spot Mikey right away, his fatigue obvious in the lazy wave he gives, a gesture I hope isn't heavy with Druj's influence. When he notices Kayvon, Mikey perks up, looking momentarily concerned. But as I slip my arm around Kayvon’s, his face breaks into a more jovial grin. "Ma'am, you know you aren't allowed to use your access to take guys on dates here."

"Don't worry, Mikey, purely academic, I assure you." I blush at the rotund man to sell the bit.

"It better be. I don't want to hear anything from the night manager about Halloween trick-or-treating gone wrong." We're nearly past when Mikey calls after us, "Oh, but you do have to clear out in an hour. Not sure if you heard about what happened last night."

I know exactly what he's referring to and reply with a curt, "Don't worry, we should be quick."

I glimpse Mikey giving Kayvon one last skeptical look, but that's all before we head to the exhibit hall. There, I spot the canopic jars, especially the dark-horned one, now etched with jagged fissures. Did no one find that odd?

Strangest of all, when I catch my reflection in the glass, I’m certain there’s someone else behind my eyes, someone worried, someone watching me from within.

Kayvon completely ignores the jars, instead focusing on the ornate sarcophagus lid, displayed upright and facing outward to show off the intricate design work on its surface. "So, how do we see it? Do we go in there and knock it over?"

I walk around to the service entrance at the side of the exhibit case and press my badge to it, the door unlocking with a satisfying thud. "You have your methods, I have mine."

Kayvon smiles a deep, mischievous smile as he follows me in. We go behind the exhibit, and I open one of the display’s corresponding access doors used to inspect and maintain the piece so we can see the back of the lid.

Carved into the smooth stone, just as we suspected, are more cuneiform inscriptions. But this cuneiform is different, not the refined script from around the tomb, but something clumsier, more amateurish. There’s an odd intimacy in its lack of craft. At the top, the first words translate clearly in my jumbled mind: "A prayer to my beloved. Call on me so we can be together once more."

I scan the text, but in the corner of my eye, the mummified remains linger—a stark reminder of who these words were meant for. I can't imagine what will happen if I recite this prayer. Part of me should be thrilled to witness such a monumental find, but the last thing I want is to resurrect a mummy eager to strangle me for disturbing its rest.

"Alright, do I... Do I read it?" I ask.

"I don't know; mummies are your thing," Kayvon replies.

"Yeah, but you are the one who knows about Druj, and this is Persian cuneiform."

He sees right through my pathetic stalling, taking my hand and steadying me. "Mary, I trust you. Trust yourself. Whatever happens, we face it together, remember?"

I stare into Kayvon's eyes and let his confidence fill me. "Yeah."

I turn back to read the inscription, pausing for the slightest moment to ask for one more bit of guidance. "Any magely wisdom on how to do recitations?"

Kayvon holds my hand tight. "Remember to breathe, speak from the stomach."

"Stomach, got it." I fix my eyes on the text and begin: "For my beloved. Even if the dead never rise, even if our bodies are never restored, immortality shall come, and creation shall be renewed forever under the dominion of our love."

I hold my breath, waiting for something, anything, to happen. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch the mummy, half-expecting it to spring to life, or for an ancient spirit to hijack my body. But nothing changes for a long time. The only difference is Kayvon's hand tightening in mine, as if something is wrong.

I turn to look at him, curious if he knows what I did wrong. But when I look at him, he's not looking at the carvings; he's looking at me. And stranger still, it's not him looking at me. It's still his face, his eyes, his smile, but somehow I know it's not him.

Then, in a swift, terrifying motion, he pulls me in, clutching me as if I might vanish, groaning a litany: "Azizam! Joonam! Be man bāzgashti!"

He stills and pulls back to look at me. I stare in utter confusion, having no clue what he just said. By the strange look on his face, it seems he realizes something is wrong as well, as he works his jaw and chews his tongue.

"Azizam, my love, my beloved, it worked!" Kayvon's voice shifts slowly to accented English as his gaze sweeps the room. "How did you do it? What magic did you use?"

I just blink, confused. "Kayvon?"

He looks back at me, and somehow I know there are two people reacting to that question.