Chapter Twenty-Two

Day 47.

"So," I munch on an apricot, studying the paper on the counter in front of me. "How much do you know about this golem?"

"Not much." Ahmose shrugs, tossing an apricot up in the air. He catches it in his mouth and bites into it. "In my defense, I have not met him."

"How do you know it's a him?" I point my apricot stone at him. "Maybe it's a her."

"Because of the name. Golem." Ahmose shrugs. "Not goler."

I giggle. "That makes no sense. Just because the name ends a certain way doesn't mean the monster is a certain gender."

"Can you prove that?"

I blink. "Well... no."

"Exactly." He lobs another apricot at me. "Eat."

I catch the apricot and give him a look. "Alright, fine. Until we have more information, the golem could be male or female. It's Schrödinger's Golem."

"Who's Schrödinger?"

"C'mon. Schrödinger's cat?" I gawk at him when he shakes his head. "How have you not heard of Schrödinger? You've been re-awoken every single century, surely—"

I cut myself off when I see the look on his face.

"Oh ha ha." I say dryly. He cracks a grin. "You're messing with me. Very funny."

"You are incredibly gullible, Kiara." Ahmose replies bemusedly. "Sometimes you make it too easy to mess with you."

I throw the apricot back at him. "Shut up. Do you or do you not want to hear what I found out about the golem?"

"I am sorry." Ahmose holds his hands up in the air. He leans back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. I can't resist watching the way his muscles flex with the casual movement. "What did you find out?"

"Alright. So you know that they're mindless creatures made of clay who are bound to their master's whim?" I ask. Ahmose nods, the joking expression that had previously lit up his handsome features replaced by one of brooding solemnity. "Well apparently they're not just bound to their master's whim, they're also fiercely loyal to them. Which basically means that they'll do anything that their master asks them to do without question."

"That should not matter so long as we do not run into the golem's master." Ahmose responds. "Which shouldn't be a problem considering he died several hundred years ago."

"Allegedly." I point out. "Maybe this rabbi managed to figure out how to live eternally. If he can animate a lump of clay, it's not unreasonable to think he could still be alive."

Ahmose considers my point, tilting his head to the side. "It is not one of the less outrageous happenstances this curse has forced us to encounter."

"I accept your surrender." I grin when his eyes narrow and carry on before he can berate me. I flick through my pages. "According to Jewish folklore, a golem's rabbi has to write a shem—"

"One of the names of their God." Ahmose interrupts. I roll my eyes at him.

"Yes, Sir Shows-Off-A-Lot, that is correct." I huff and continue. "Anyway, the rabbi has to write a shem on a piece of paper and put it in the golem's mouth. If that piece of paper is removed, then the golem is deactivated and falls apart. I guess it has something to do with removing the living representation of God from the otherwise inanimate clay, or something."

"I suppose that would make sense." Ahmose muses. "One's name is the single most defining characteristic we have, the one unique and profound element we are all given. It would make sense that the combination of that along with the representation of a 'god' would animate clay."

I stare at him. "You are a walking book of inspirational quotes in a drool-worthy book jacket, aren't you?"

Ahmose frowns slightly. "What does that mean?"

I blush, internally kicking myself for my outburst. "Doesn't matter. I digress. Back to the big scary monster we have to fight."

"Alright." Ahmose inclines his head. "What else did you find out?"

"Well, I did a little digging on the famous Prague golem." I pull a piece of paper out from the bottom of the pile with a flourish and smooth it out on the benchtop. "Apparently it's also known as Yossele, and the rabbi created it from the clay that lined the banks of the river Vltava. He animated it to protect the Jewish people in Prague from persecution in the sixteenth century, so it mainly guarded the Jewish grotto. Legend tells that the rabbi used to remove the shem from Yossele's mouth every Friday evening during Sabbath, but one week he forgot to deactivate the golem and it went on a rampage. When the rabbi caught up with Yossele, he quickly pulled the shem from its mouth and Yossele broke into pieces. The rabbi was worried the same thing would happen again, or Yossele would be too powerful a weapon if it fell into the wrong hands, so he gathered up all the pieces of the golem and locked them in the attic of the synagogue. It's rumoured Yossele remains there to this day, which is why I guess the clue from the cockatrices led us there."

"Okay." Ahmose runs a hand through his jagged ebony hair. "So, if we are assuming Yossele is the golem we are to face, then the synagogue is the most reasonable guess for the last stage of the curse. Ma'at must have reanimated Yossele as a challenge for us to face."

"That would make sense." I lay the piece of paper down on the bench. "But how are we going to get into the synagogue? I'm definitely not rehearsed in Jewish religious practices. I don't want to offend anyone; I'll stick out like a sore thumb."

"Synagogues are incredibly accepting, najmay. As long as you adhere to their customs, they will welcome you with open arms."

"Okay." I nod, pursing my lips. I don an air of confidence and toss my now slightly-longer-than-shoulder-length curls over my shoulder. "Let's do this."

— — —

I let a long breath out through my lips and stare up at the towering building in front of me. To quite literally anyone else, it would look like just another old synagogue, with it's worn golden walls and red-brick tiled roof. The roof soars up into the sky in a jagged Gothic point, and the arched glass windows betray a glow of warmth from within. People bustle past us, knocking Ahmose and I about as they hurry towards the nearest source of shelter from the prowling autumn wind, eagerly awaiting to sink its icy fingers into anyone without adequate protection. For those people, escaping the wind was their only concern in that moment, or maybe even their next shopping destination. For me though, escaping the wind and shopping was the last thing on my mind.

Sure, escaping something was definitely on my mind, but it most definitely was more dangerous than the autumn wind. And it most definitely was more important than buying the maroon sweater I had seen in the shop window.

I chew on my index fingernail and let another breath out through my lips in an attempt to calm my racing heart. By the end of tonight, it would be all over. Either the curse would be broken, or I would be dead. Ahmose and I would be free, or we would have to start all over again. Ahmose would be able to have a normal life, or he would be mummified again. Good ending, or bad ending. Good ending, or bad ending. Good or bad.

And the thing that I couldn't stop thinking was, if we did manage to win, if we did get the good ending, what next?

I couldn't deny the way that I felt about Ahmose; he had turned my life upside-down from the moment I had met him, that much was certain. Yet, despite that, he had also torn through my whole life in a completely different way, and I still had no idea how to process it all.

If we really did beat this curse, we actually succeeded in what we had set out to do, what was I going to do?

"Kiara?"

I startle, whipping around to see Ahmose standing behind me, plastic bag in hand. He gives me a strange look, tilting his head to the side.

"Are you alright?"

I blink and shake my head. "I'm— I'm fine. What have you got there?"

He hands the plastic bag to me. I open it up to find a folded up maroon skirt, a cream long-sleeved shirt and a red and gold scarf adorned with elaborate pashmina patterns. I pull the scarf out and let the soft, silky fabric run over my fingers. I cast Ahmose a glance.

"What is this for?"

"You need to dress modestly in the synagogue. I thought this would be the best outfit for you."

"You picked me out an outfit?" I raise an eyebrow at him. He nods. I laugh a little, placing the scarf back in the bag. "Ahmose, I know you mean well, but how am I supposed to fight a monster in a skirt? Have you met me?"

Ahmose chuckles. "I have taken that in account, najmay. I tried to pick the clothes that I thought would be the easiest to move around in. If you are concerned, you can always wear shorts underneath the skirt."

"Wow Ahmose. You have thought of everything." I drawl sarcastically. He gives me a look. I smile and draw the bag closer to me. "Thank you. I'll go and change."

"The latif shopkeeper said that she would be happy for you to change there if you wished." Ahmose pointed to the shop across the road. The shop with the sweater in the window. I almost laugh at the irony.

"Oh she did, did she?" I ask. "Was she being nice because you gave her the same treatment you gave Adéla?"

"Are you jealous, my amyrti?" Ahmose teases. He tweaks my nose. "I cannot help it if nisa' are drawn to me like cats to a sun-baked rock."

I smack him over the head with the plastic bag and storm across the road.

I return a few minutes later with my own clothes stuffed in the plastic bag — minus the bike shorts I was now wearing underneath the skirt — to find Ahmose leaning against the outside of the shop with his arms folded across his chest. Like normal he's people-watching, his keen golden eyes tracking all the different people walking past.

I walk up to him and clear my throat. Ahmose glances over at me.

"You look beautiful, najmay." A small smile burgeons over his face. "Although, I am unsure as to whether those shoes quite complete the elegance of the outfit."

"What do you mean?" I look down at my tattered, dirty sneakers and tap the heels together. "These sneakers are the epitome of elegance."

He looks at me. We burst out laughing.

"Shut up." I giggle and smack him with the plastic bag again, this time a little more gently. "You got me out of my worn jeans but you're not getting me out of my worn sneakers. I have boundaries."

He arches an eyebrow at me.

"Besides," My tone grows more sombre and consequently, quieter. "If you thought running in a skirt was hard, try running in heels."

Ahmose smiles a little, before his expression smooths out. He takes the bag out of my hand and steps closer, watching me with a keen, smoldering gaze. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just nervous." I shoot him a wavering smile. "Very, very nervous."

"We will be alright, najmay. We have made it this far. We will make it past this stage."

"Easy for you to say. You're not the one who's facing possible imminent death."

"Now that is a bit harsh, najmay." Ahmose clicks his tongue. "I told you they would be incredibly accepting in the synagogue. I am sure they will not kill you for interrupting their peaceful Thursday afternoon."

I can't help but laugh. "You know that's not what I meant."

"I know. But it made you smile." He replies simply. My heart does a flip in my chest. Ahmose slips the plastic bag in a bush beside the shop and turns back to me, taking my hand. "Are you ready?"

I let out a long breath, looking down at my feet. I feel a flicker of movement on my upper arm, and look down to see Nefretiri's tiny golden head pop out over the fabric of my shirt. She rests her head on my shoulder, her tongue flicking in and out of her mouth, and twists her head so she's looking me in the eye with her emerald gaze. I can almost hear her talking in my ear.

Remember all you have gone through to get to this point. Remember what it was all worth. Remember what you are fighting for. Remember.

I smile, stroking the top of her head with the back of my index finger. "Thank you Nefretiri."

I square my shoulders and stand up tall, throwing on the toughest expression I can muster. I look at Ahmose and nod.

"I'm ready. Let's beat this golem."

He squeezes my hand and leads me through the sinister dark doorway of the synagogue.

I blink, stumbling back slightly as I'm blinded by an overwhelming wave of bright, warm light. When my vision is finally no longer impaired by fuzzy black spots, my jaw just about drops - not in horror, but in awe.

Call me a pessimist, but the inside of the synagogue was a whole lot more spectacular and a whole less doom and gloom than I expected. A glittering white chandelier dangles from the ceiling, casting light across the wooden pews in the synagogue. Behind the dais are beautifully painted windows, and the sunlight streaming through them sends kaleidoscopic shadows dancing throughout the room. Scattered throughout the large room are several different people, some sitting at the pews, some standing, some admiring the intricate patterns of the painted windows. A few people look up when they hear us approach — I even see one woman scoff when she notices my sneakers hiding under the folds of my skirt — but apart from that, nobody pays any attention to us.

Talk about anticlimactic.

Ahmose looks over at me and chuckles at the look on my face. "Were you expecting something different?"

"Well... yeah." I admit. "The last two challenges we faced the monsters basically attacked us the moment we stepped on their turf. This is all just... exceedingly normal. It's scaring me. Where is Yossele? Why isn't it attacking us?"

"It is still daylight, not dusk." Ahmose points out. "And according to legend, Yossele was cut up into pieces and stored in the attic. If our suspicions are correct, and Ma'at has re-animated the golem, it is likely that Yossele will not emerge until after sunset."

"But that's not for another," I check my watch and groan quietly. "Three hours. Why did we come here so early?"

"Reconnaissance. I had my suspicions that we would not immediately begin the challenge when we walked into the synagogue — considering it is a public place and not hidden away from humanity like the first two trials," He adds on when I throw my hands up. "So I thought that could provide us with an unexpected advantage. If we have a look around, understand the environment of the trial, we may have the upperhand for once."

"What is there to look at? It's just a synagogue."

Ahmose gives me a look. "And it is that kind of thinking that has resulted in us failing to break the curse every other time."

"Alright there doomsday-er. Way to beat me over the head with logic." I grumble, petulantly crossing my arms over my chest. Ahmose snorts at my childish behaviour and moves away.

"Just have a look around and tell me if you notice anything important." He whispers as he walks off.

Huffing again, I roll my eyes and twirl around in a circle, surveying the whole synagogue in one go.

"Where to start?" I muse to myself. "I can't believe I'm doing this. I'm literally looking for danger."

An hour and a half hour later, Ahmose finds me at the back of the synagogue, investigating a large glass display cabinet holding a bronze metal vase.

"Kiara."

I squeak, jumping about a mile into the air. Ahmose stares at me, his neutral expression wavering for a moment.

"Have you found anything?"

"Yes." I point with conviction at pews behind me. "The pews are not nailed to the floor and can be moved with easily," I point to my right. "The toilets are over there," I point to the display cabinet in front of me. "And this vase looks old, and I think the plaque states that it was made a really long time ago."

"You speak Czech?" He asks bemusedly.

"No." I stick my tongue out at him. "What important information did you find, then?"

He ignores my childish dig. "Well firstly, the attic Yossele is rumoured to be kept in is not on the top floor of the building, like traditionally assumed."

I frown. "What do you mean?"

"The attic is a genizah," Ahmose explains. "A storage unit that is usually found outside a synagogue or in a cemetery."

"A cemetery?" I shudder. "That's creepy. And ironic. Of course the last trial we have to pass is in a cemetery."

"Well, not technically. I had a brief fly around the synagogue, and found a small building I believe to be the genizah nestled in some bushes behind the synagogue."

"'A brief fly around'?" I echo, staring at him. His expression doesn't change. "Oh wait, you're serious. You actually flew around the synagogue."

"Why is that a surprise? You know of my powers."

"I—just—" I splutter. I let out a loud sigh, wincing when a woman nearby shoots me a foul look and mouthing an apology. "Okay, you actually made some good discoveries. What do you think our plan of action should be?"

"We hide." He replies simply. "And break into the genizah after dusk."

"Break into it? Are you serious?"

"Deadly."

"Alright. Become a felon, that's cool. I'm ready. That's cool." I flick him a big thumbs up, before gasping. "Oh, I know where we can hide!"

"Where?" Ahmose follows my finger and groans loudly. "Oh no. Absolutely not. I will not stoop to that level."

"Oh yes." I grin. "You absolutely are."

— — —

"This is 'iidhlal."

"Oh you poor little Egyptian boy, being forced to hide in the disgusting toilets." I tease. "How are you disgusted by this? You must have had to deal with much grosser situations in Ancient Egypt."

"I did not have to perch like a bird on the edge of a toilet for several hours. Trust me najmay, if I had to do that in Ancient Egypt, I would most likely not be living to complain about the total lack of hygiene in this hiding spot."

I smile, shimmying back and crossing my legs on the toilet seat cover. "You know, if you just put the toilet seat cover down like I have, it would be much easier and a lot more hygienic."

"I do not appreciate your mocking."

"Why? Am I hurting your feelings?" I simper. "Or are you just touchy because I'm right and you hadn't considered that?"

I hear him huff, before grumpily replying, "Be quiet."

I chuckle and shake my head, smiling to myself as I go back to what I had been doing before Ahmose interrupted me. Holding my left hand up in front of my face, I spread my fingers out and bend them slightly, so my hand resembles an upside-down spider. Pressing my lips together, I muster up all the energy I possibly can and pour all my concentration into the gaps between my fingers. A small flicker of a blue spark jumps between my thumb and index finger, but disappears as quickly as it appears. My nose wrinkles up in vexation. I bend my fingers ever-so-slightly more and try a second time. A bead of perspiration trickles past my eyebrow. This time, a small green tendril of smoke weaves its way through the fingers on my right hand, curling around my pinkie finger like a snake. It lasts for about 5 seconds before flickering out of existence again. I let out my breath in a spluttering explosion and groan, burying my head in my hands.

"Why is this so hard?" I moan into my hands.

"You are doing it wrong."

I lift my head and glare at the stall wall. "Thanks for the blindingly obvious observation, Sherlock."

"You are frustrated."

"What gave that away?"

"Your sarcasm borders on caustic." There's a loud bang, and suddenly Ahmose is vaulting over the separation between our toilet stalls. He lands in front of me without a sound and rolls the sleeves of his maroon shirt up above his elbows. He reaches forward to poke my forehead. "And you get that little wrinkle between your eyebrows."

I slap his hand away. "What are you doing in here? The whole reason we were hiding on the toilets was so we couldn't be seen by outsiders."

"If an outsider arrives, I will make do." He says simply. "But we still have half an hour until sun-down, and I am tired of hearing all the frustrated grunts you are making every time you fail."

My cheeks warm. "Frustrated grunts?"

Ahmose ignores me and steps closer. My cheeks start burning. He speaks in a low, melodious tone. "You are going about it all wrong."

"How?"

"You are summoning the power from the wrong centre. You are trying to summon it from your eaql," He points to my temple. His finger moves down to the left side of my chest. "When you should be summoning it from here. From your qalb."

"My heart?" I scrunch my face up in confusion. "I don't understand."

"Think back to the last time you used your powers. What happened?"

"We were being chased by the anubites."

"And how were you feeling?"

"Scared." I admit. "Terrified. Afraid they'd hurt you or Hazel."

"Exactly." Ahmose replies. "At that moment in time, you were not thinking with your head. You were thinking with your heart. That is how you accessed your abilities."

"Okay." I nod slowly. "I think I get it. Think with my heart, not with my head."

"That is it. Trust in your jb." Ahmose smiles. He holds up his hands in the air and nods at me. "Now try again. Clear your mind and focus on your jb. Close your eyes."

I close them.

"Now take a deep breathe and focus on your heart. Picture it in your mind."

I do as I'm told, drawing in a deep breath and picturing a beating heart in my head.

"Feel the way it pulses in your chest. Every time it breathes in, you breathe in. Every time it breathes out, so do you."

My breathing slows down until it beats in time with the heart in my mind, echoing the loud ba-dumph with an exhale of breath.

"Now think back to the time we were attacked by the anubites. Remember that feeling. Visualise that feeling as liquid, flowing through your heart as blood does."

I breathe in. The heart is my mind is suddenly encircled by a shining, twisting turquoise stream, that flows in through the top and gushes out the bottom to twine around the outside of the heart in an infinite shimmering loop.

"Good. Now as you feel yourself getting ready to breathe out, I want you to open your eyes and focus that feeling on my hands."

I open mu eyes. Ahmose watches me, unblinking. I let a breath flutter out. As the air passes through my lips, a thick, crackling whip of turquoise smoke shoots out of my fingertips and hits Ahmose square in the chest. He grunts, stumbling back a couple of steps. A wry look is thrown in my direction.

"I said focus on my hands."

"Sorry." I grimace. Then I can't contain myself anymore. A bright grin spreads across my lips. "I did it!"

My excitement is so contagious that a smile blossoms on his face too. "Yes you did. Well done, najmay."

"Why thank you." I grin. I point my finger at him, let out a breath, and smack him in the chest again with my power. "I just did it again!"

His smile quickly turns upside-down. "I regret teaching you that."

"Oh, put the pout away." I tease, ruffling his hair up with a tendril of turquoise smoke. "I'm only going to use it to fight the big bad monster."

"Najmay. Do not jest with me." Ahmose deadpans. I crack a grin. He pauses, going as still as a statue. I tilt my head to the side, silently questioning his sudden behaviour. Holding one finger up to his lips, Ahmose jumps up and balances himself on either wall of the stall, hovering mid-air in front of me.

I hear a door open. Steps echo over the concrete floor. The steps halt in front of our stall. I hear heavy breathing. Our door starts to squeak as someone starts to push it open. I close my eyes and let out a long breath.

Please don't find us.

I slowly let my hands relax out of fists, flicking my fingers out in the direction of the door. The squeaking stops. I hear a woman muttering something in Czech, before a few hurried steps and the final slamming of a door.

I let out a long breath and fall against the wall of the toilet stall. "That was a close call."

Ahmose jumps back down again, landing noiselessly. He stares at me. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything. I just prayed that she wouldn't find us, and then she didn't."

An odd expression graces his face; it's almost like he can't decide whether to be impressed, or concerned. "You have a stronger grip on your abilities than I realised."

"What do you mean?" I frown. "Wait, are you telling me that I somehow changed her mind with my powers?"

"Yes, I believe you did."

I stare at him through wide eyes. "Woah."

He watches me silently for a few moments. Then he shakes his head, his expression smoothing out into his usual neutral impassivity. "You did well, najmay. She was the last person in the synagogue. We are all alone now. It is time."

I gulp, a chill slithering down my back. "It's time?"

He nods, his features grave. "Let's go break this curse, once and for all."