Chapter Seven

Day 2.

"Have you got everything you need?"

"Yes."

"And you've double checked it at least three times?"

"That doesn't make any sense, Dad. But yes."

"And you have your passport ready?"

"Dad." I roll my eyes, pressing my lips together to hide my smile. "I have everything. Stop worrying."

"I can't help myself. It's my job as a father to worry." He grunts, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

"Well then stop." I laugh, slinging my pack over my shoulder. "Seriously. Stop. I will be fine."

He lets out a long sigh, running a hand over his short beard. "I still worry, Kiara. This trip has happened very suddenly."

"I will be fine." I repeat, laying a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I can look after myself, Dad. Besides, I'll have Hazel with me."

"I am not at all reassured by that thought." He replies wryly. Hazel gasps, laying a hand on her chest.

"I am hurt and offended by your insinuation, Mr Collins. I am an excellent person. I would protect Kiara with my life."

My father snorts. "Hazel, you would kill Kiara for a chance to get inside one of the pyramids, and we both know it."

I shake my head at the two of them and glance up to meet Ahmose's intense gaze. He's leaning against the wall of the airport a few meters in front of us, far away enough that he doesn't appear suspicious, but close enough that he can hear every word of our conversation. I can tell from the way he constantly shifts position that he's impatient. We've spent the entire day preparing for whatever lies ahead, from procuring supplies, to sorting out flights, to now, saying goodbye to my father. Hazel even managed to convince Ahmose to accompany her on her whirlwind supplies trip, and he came back, albeit grudgingly, with a brand-new outfit. And now he's the picture perfect image of a brooding bad-boy, with an all-black ensemble, including the iconic black leather jacket, and a sullen look on his handsome features.

It takes every fibre of my being to stop myself from gawking at him. This is so not fair. Why couldn't he be hideously ugly like all the mummies from the movies?

Ahmose raises an eyebrow at me when he catches me staring. His gaze flickers between my father and I, asking a very obvious question. I swallow and nod, my hand tightening on the strap of my pack.

It's time to go.

I clear my throat, tearing through the light-hearted bickering that my father and Hazel have continuously been indulging in during my absence. They both pause, looking at me, and the reactions that cross their faces when they see my expression are blatantly different.

"We need to go." I say quietly. "We're going to miss our flight."

"Okay." Hazel nods, her expression softening minutely. "I'll start heading through. I'll meet you by the gate, okay?"

I nod, and after she says another goodbye to my father, she heads off towards customs, Ahmose loosely following behind her.

"Kiara." I look up at my father at the sound of my name. He sighs, concern creasing the corners of his eyes. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"It's what I want, Dad." I reply, pointedly ignoring his question. I smile brightly at him, attempting to curb his apprehension with my enthusiasm. "You've always been telling me I need an adventure to get me out from behind my camera. This is an adventure!"

"I never said that." My father retorts dryly. "That was always Hazel."

"You always agreed with her though." I say with a small smile. "I always felt personally attacked when you two teamed up and told me I was a 'camera-hermit'."

"You never really helped yourself Ki. That camera has been glued to your face ever since you were big enough to hold it." He replies, a fond smile darting over his lips as he reminisces.

I grin, ducking my head. "Some people would say that's endearing."

"Normal people would say it's creepy." He deadpans. I laugh. His expression softens, and he pulls me into a hug. "You be careful Kiara, alright?"

I nod into his shoulder, my own grip tightening. "Of course I will."

"And if you see anything bad happening, you run, you hear me?" He asks, pulling back out of the hug just so I can see him raising his eyebrows at me. "I don't care how stupidly brave you think you are, I want you to run in the opposite direction at the first sign of danger, alright?"

I scoff. "What do you think I'm going over to Egypt to do, Dad? Fight a war?"

Not a war. A small voice in the back of my head pipes up. Just a three-thousand year old Egyptian curse. Not dangerous at all.

"Don't get all sassy with me Kiara. I'm serious." My father says sternly. "Stay away from all danger. I don't want to lose you too."

My heart clenches tightly. I stare at him for several seconds, not saying a single word. Then I shake my head and force a breezy smile on my face, making a show of brushing off his warning like it's ridiculous. "I'll be fine Dad. I'm only going away for a few weeks, you're not even going to notice I"m gone. Stop acting like you're sending me off to war. I'm going on a holiday to Egypt, not to war against the Romans."

So why does it feel like this is the last time I'm going to see him again?

"I know, I know." He waves his hand around in the air, creating an air of pretense as blatant as my own. "And you wouldn't be fighting the Romans anyway. That Empire died hundreds of years ago."

I roll my eyes at him. He can't help himself, even when he clearly knows I"m joking. "Goodbye Dad."

He grins, reaching forward to tug my hair, which I'd tied back into a side plait earlier in the day. "Have fun, kiddo. Take lots of photos for me."

"Photos? Me? Never." I gasp theatrically, laying the back of my hand against my forehead. "What a blasphemous idea!"

This time he's the one rolling his eyes. "Just leave. You're embarrassing me."

I shoot him a wide beam. "Love you!"

"Love you too kiddo." My father chuckles, waving at me. I wave back as I back up, and it's not until he's swallowed up by the bustling crowds of the airport that I turn around and hurry after Hazel and Ahmose.

You're never going to see him again. A voice whispers in the back of my mind, and it's accompanied by such a strong feeling of familiarity that it sends ice-chills rocketing down my spine. I shake my head and grit my jaw as I power through the airport, refusing to give the voice the satisfaction of acknowledgment.

I find Hazel and Ahmose waiting for me on the other end of the international customs station. Once I've managed to successfully make it through with my pack, I join them, shooting them both a bright and breezy smile.

"So!" I chirp, in such a cheerful tone that they both jolt and stare at me. "Are we boarding this plane or what? I'm pretty sure we need to be heading there, like now, otherwise we'll be waiting around for forever to get to our seats."

Ahmose watches me with his usual impassive expression, but I can see in his eyes that he sees right through my act. Hazel, on the other hand, is completely impervious.

"Wait, you think we're flying commercial?" She scoffs. I nod slowly. She laughs condescendingly, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Oh my sweet, innocent, poor friend. When yours truly has the posession of this beauty," She whips out a golden credit card and waves it around in my face. "We do not fly commercial. We'l also very possibly be murdered by two very pissed off Asian parents, but I try not to think about that as I continue to spend their money."

"We're flying first class?" My expression lights up. "I've never flown first class!"

"Even better." Hazel winks, throwing her arms around Ahmose and I. "We're flying in our very own plane, baby! Rich parents for the win!"

The plane that Hazel hired — or hijacked, I'm never entirely sure — is the biggest, most ridiculous plane I have ever seen in my entire life. My jaw just about hits the ground as the flight attendant leads us up to the plane. It's light golden coating shimmers under the rays of the setting sun, and there are three bold letters stamping the side of the plane in blinding white: Lee.

I turn to Hazel, who's watching me with a big smirk on her face. "Your parents own a plane?"

"Oh, did I forget to mention that?" She replies haughtily. I respond with an incomprehensible splutter. Hazel laughs at my reaction, and flounces onto the plane, yelling, "I love my family!"

I stare after her, still spluttering a little in disbelief. Ahmose slows down next to me, chuckling at the expression on my face.

"Are you not familiar with riches?"

"With what?" My gaze wavers over to him, confusion lacing through me. Then it clicks. "Oh, you mean money?"

He nods.

I shrug as I start walking up the stairs leading into the plane. "Of course I'm familiar with money. I'm just not familiar with the extravagant parading of money like this."

Ahmose completely surprises me by bursting into laughter.

"What?" I demand, turning around in the entrance to the plane. He doesn't respond, still chuckling like I told him the world's funniest joke. "Why are you laughing?"

Ahmose shakes his head, his golden-brown eyes twinkling with mirth. "You are just... not what I expected."

"What you expected?" My brow furrows in confusion. "What were you expecting?"

He doesn't answer my question, gesturing towards the plane behind me. "Are you going to get on the plane?"

"Are you going to answer my question?" I shoot back.

"No."

"No? Well..." I huff loudly, narrowing my eyes at him. Then I spin on my heel and storm into the plane, ignoring the laughter that follows me.

The inside of the plane is even more elaborate and exquisitely decorated than the outside, with crisp white walls, massive televisions and creamy leather chairs that I can just see myself melting into. It takes all my strength to stop my jaw from dropping a second time and feeding Hazel's smugness even more. I wrinkle up my nose.

She's never going to let me hear the end of this.

"So? What do you think?" Hazel appears next to me, a humongous grin. "Is it great, or is it great?"

"It's alright." I reply nonchalantly, letting my gaze wander around the cabin. Hazel scoffs.

"Dude, this plane is amazing, don't you lie to me."

I shrug, barely managing to bite back my smile when she scowls at me. "If I manage to get a decent sleep, then I might agree that this plane is amazing."

"Your priorities disgust me." She sighs exaggeratedly. Her attention switches to the Egyptian in the room. "Well, Mummy-boy? Where are we headed?"

"The temple of Osiris." Ahmose says, his eyes locking on me. "Abydos."

— — —

I quickly discovered that Hazel's parent's plane was, indeed, amazing. The seats were like gigantic leather marshmallows, and from the moment I sink down into one, I'm out like a light.

When I wake up, the cabin of the plane is shrouded in darkness, with the low rumble of the plane in transit humming around me. I yawn and rub the sleep out of my eyes with the base of my palm, shifting in my chair to stretch the stiffness out of my limbs. My movement catches the attention of the person sitting across from me, and they tear their eyes away from the window to regard me in an indiscernible gaze. I freeze, offering them a timid smile.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

"No." Ahmose says, shaking his head. "I do not sleep."

"Three thousand years must really refresh you." I joke, but my jest doesn't have any impact on his impassive expression. The smile slips off my face. "Sorry. Too soon?"

"I did not sleep for three thousand years." Ahmose replies quietly. I tilt my head to the side. "I was only mummified one hundred years ago."

"How is that possible?"

Ahmose sighs, his gaze returning to the window. "It is my curse. Every one hundred years, I have one hundred days to complete the trials. If I fail, I am mummified for another one hundred years."

"Wait, this curse-breaking mission has a time limit on it?" I exclaim, a little louder than I intend to. Across the other side of the plane, Hazel shifts suddenly, mumbling something under her breath, and I freeze. She lets out a small sigh and twists around, facing away from us. I let my breath out and continue on in a slightly lower pitch. "Good to know we have an hourglass hanging over our heads. Or, a hundred-day-glass."

Ahmose doesn't respond to that, but I see the corners of his lips quirk up ever-so-slightly.

My curiosity getting the better of me, I sit up in a more comfortable position and study him. I prop my elbow up on the armrest and rest my chin on my palm. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Will it stop you if I say no?"

I smile a little. "Probably not."

"Then ask away." He inclines his head.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-one."

I burst out laughing. "Okay, sure."

"It's true."

I grin. "Alright, better question. How long have you been twenty-one?"

He shrugs, something flashing through his expression so quickly that I barely have time to notice it. "I don't know. So many years have passed by me that I have lost count."

My own expression softens. I suddenly find myself wanting to reach out and comfort him. "Why were you cursed, Ahmose?"

Ahmose's shoulders stiffen. He speaks barely above a whisper. "I loved the wrong woman."

My breath catches in my throat. I wasn't expecting him to say that.

"Who was she?" I ask hesitantly.

"She was the daughter of the Pharaoh, Amenhotep I. The amira." He replies quietly, his eyes glazing over as he remembers. "Words could never quite describe how extraordinary she was. Jawahrat alnayl."

The reverence in his voice makes me smile. "It sounds like you cared for her a lot."

"I did. As she did for me." Ahmose smiles a little. "But I was the son of a lowly merchant, and I held barely any social standing. So, you can imagine how pleased her father was when he discovered our... affair."

Sympathy radiates through me at his words. I think I know where this is going. I'm not sure I want to be right. "He didn't like you because you were of a lower class than her? That doesn't seem fair."

"That was the way society worked back then. You should not be surprised though, Kiara. Can you look me in the eye and tell me it has changed since then? " He asks me. I wince and shrug in response, so he continues. "It was not just that, though. During my time, it was law that princesses of royal blood had to be married to kings, and kings only, in order to preserve the royal bloodline. My amira was destined to marry her cousin, not I. I was a mere distraction, in the eyes of her father, a bothersome fly he could not successfully swat away."

"Her cousin?" My nose wrinkles up in disgust. "Isn't that... incest?"

"What is 'incest'?" He asks, frowning as he tries to decipher the word.

"It's nasty, that's what it is." I inform him. His frown only deepens. "It's... a word we use to describe when family members have a relationship. It's incredibly frowned upon."

"Ah." He nods in understanding. "It was not back then. It was normal. It was the only way to successfully carry on the royal line. Many pharoahs married their sisters, or half-sisters, or cousins."

"That doesn't make it any less nasty, Ahmose." I tell him bluntly. The corners of his mouth quirk up in response.

"That is what she thought too." He replies with a small chuckle. Then his expression darkens. "When her father found out about us, he forbade her to see me again. But she did not listen. She was far too stubborn in refusing to give into her father's will, and she did not want to imagine life without me. So she came up with the plan to sneak away with me, and disappear off into the night. I agreed immediately, of course, because I was the exact same. I could not imagine life without her by my side."

"Oh, Ahmose." I say softly, shaking my head as I click on to the path his story is heading. "No."

"Her father found out, of course." He continues on, his voice growing quieter with every word. "My amira was good at keeping secrets, but when it came to our relationship, she did not have a subtle bone in her body. He locked her in her room and prayed to the gods to punish me for what he saw as treason. They answered. And we both died."

"You both died?" I gasp. He nods, his jaw clenching. "Why did she die?"

"That is the catch when you pray to the gods. They might answer, but they never respond in the way you want them to." He replies in a tight tone. "Amenhotep may have succeeded in punishing me, but it resulted in the death of his own daughter."

"Oh my god." I breathe. "So the gods put this curse on you?"

"It was one goddess in particular. Ma'at." Ahmose says. I frown, the name striking a chord of familiarity within me. "She is the goddess of morality, truth and justice."

"Holy crap." I whisper. Then a terrifying idea hits me. "Wait, do we have to fight her to break your curse?"

"I do not know." Ahmose shrugs. "Perhaps."

"Holy crap." I repeat, my head thudding against the chair as I sit back. "No pressure, or anything."

Ahmose chuckles, the low sound reverberating around the tiny interior of the plane. "I am sure that, if it comes to that, you will be fine."

"That is not reassuring in the slightest. I am a tiny, weak, human female, and you're telling me I will 'be fine' against an a goddess? She'll squash me like a fly!"

His lips stretch out into a rakish grin.

"Well, you will have me with you, will you not?" Ahmose asks, a hint of arrogance colouring his tones. I narrow my eyes at him.

"Be as cocky as you want, buster. You're the one who's been at this curse-breaking mission for a while now, and you don't even know if we're going to fight her or not."

He leans back in his chair, his eyes twinkling. "You remind me of her a lot, you know."

I reach over to squeeze his hand. "I'm sorry you lost her, Ahmose."

His fingers curl over mine for a moment, and a spark of electricity shoots through my veins at his touch. He holds my gaze, warmth washing over me as he smiles. "As am I, Kiara."

"And I promise that I'll do everything in my power to help you break your curse." I tell him. His smile lights up his entire face. "I mean it. You don't deserve to live in agony just because you loved someone."

Something sparks in his caramel eyes, and for a moment, he looks like he wants to say something. But then I watch as he visibly qualms the urge and throws his up fences again, instead settling for the mundane response of squeezing my fingers. My shoulders slump in disappointment. He breaks our gaze, glancing out the window once more.

What was he about to say? And why didn't he let himself say it?

There's more to his story than he's letting on. I just know it.

"Kiara." Ahmose whispers, breaking the silence. I look up at him and he motions me forward, pointing out the window. "Look."

I lean in just in time to see a monstrous pyramid rush past the window, surrounded by thousands of tiny dots the size of ants. Seconds later, a second pyramid flies by, and a glittering, gleaming city appears on the horizon, twinkling under the setting sun. My eyes widen, and a delighted gasp tears through me. I glance back at Ahmose, and he smiles at the wonder on my face.

"Welcome to Egypt, Kiara."