The Anubis Plague полностью

Zahra’s right eyebrow rose. This was why he was calling? She turned her head and eyed the heirloom. It sat majestically atop a four-shelf, mahogany bookcase. The jar’s placement made it look like one of the gargoyles overlooking the grounds outside Notre-Dame in Paris.

Twenty years ago, George and Hanan Kane had acquired the beautifully carved, black, two-foot-tall jackal-headed object. Ancient Egyptians used similar canopic jars to preserve the embalmed organs of the recently departed. The Kanes’ jar was an oddity. It had been carved out of volcanic igneous rock, not limestone, as tradition had dictated. Whoever had made it had also given it a heavy coat of polish.

Other than the impressive craftsmanship, the piece wasn’t all that unusual. At the time, it had been a remarkable acquisition, one that Zahra’s parents had made together while on vacation in Cairo. They had bought it from, what Hanan had described as, a less-than-reputable street vendor. But George didn’t care. He had been immediately enthralled with it and had happily handed over a wad of Egyptian pounds amounting to one-hundred U.S. dollars.

After Hanan’s tragic death, George had given it to his daughter at her request. He agreed, explaining that it was for “safer keeping,” but Zahra really knew why he had gifted it to her. The jar reminded him too much of the lost love of his life. Zahra had kept it because it reminded her of her mother and her extensive Egyptian heritage.

Zahra grinned. And yet, Mom married a white guy from Long Island.

George’s love of Ancient Egypt had spilled over into his love of the people of the country. He had spent as much time abroad as possible, but as fate had decided, he wouldn’t meet his future spouse in Egypt. Egypt had come to the States to meet him. The young woman had owned a pair of striking eyes — eyes that were eventually handed down to her firstborn, Zahra Amelia.

“Yeah, of course, I still have it,” Zahra replied, still eyeing the heirloom. She put the call on speakerphone and brought the device in front of her face.

“Excellent,” Baahir replied, wheezing for breath. “Keep it safe. They know you have it, and they’re coming for it.”

“Who — what are you talking about, Baahir?” Zahra asked, confused.

“I… I found it, Zahra. I found the original Book of the Dead, and now they are trying to take it and kill me.”

Zahra’s eyes went wide. Though she hadn’t talked to her brother in some time, she knew he had become increasingly obsessed with the legend. The fact he believed that he had found it and that someone was currently trying to kill him and take it confirmed that it did, in fact, exist. Baahir was a lot of things, but a liar wasn’t one of them. If anything, he was honest to a fault.

“Holy shit, Baahir!” Zahra pushed away from her desk. She stood and paced the room. Grant noticed the commotion from the other room and stepped inside. She paid her colleague no attention, focusing on her brother’s words instead. “And our family’s jar? How does it figure into this?”

“The temple — the one we found the scroll in — there was an engraving of it there, alongside Anubis and the story of the scroll. They are connected. These people…” he sounded winded. “They believe the same as our mother did.”

Zahra paused her steps and stared through the wall. The myths surrounding the jar and Anubis had always interested Zahra as a kid, but they had only been stories, and nothing more.

Right? Zahra thought, unsure.

“What are you saying, Baahir? Are you telling me that hellstone is real — that all the crap Mom spoke about was true?”

Baahir’s footfalls fell silent. Zahra guessed that he had paused to catch his breath. The volume of his voice dropped to a whisper.

“The people trying to kill me think so.” He quickly recounted what had happened since he first arrived on the scene back at the golf course. “And their leader. He’s a man I’ve heard of… and not in a good way. I believe he’s involved with the Scales of Anubis.”

Zahra nearly blurted out a laugh. “Really? The ‘Scales of Anubis?’”

“Yes, Zahra.” He started to run again. “Our mother knew a lot more about this than we thought.”

“But why?” Zahra asked, confused and concerned. “What was she involved in, Baahir?”

But he didn’t answer.

“Baahir?”

“Shhh,” Baahir replied, shushing her. “Hang on a second.”