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Chapter 3

It was freezing now, the warmth that had spread through him from the exertion had faded leaving him in a room only fit for keeping meat fresh.

The spirit who'd dragged him here had sent wisp-light up above them to illuminate the place, like Rekhyt had in the last room. It was a huge place, much larger than the others they'd passed through. There were columns of alcoves lined next to each other with space between them for people to walk up and down, some of the structures still had old scrolls of papyri resting in them, covered in dust and yellowing with age. He was going to die in a library, he could've laughed.

It was between two of these columns that he'd been forced to kneel. He hadn't been tied or gagged, he didn't need to be, if he uttered anything the sounded like an incantation the spirit in front of him would kill him before he got out the second syllable. A thought occurred to him.

"May I ask something?" He said, surprising even himself with how level his voice was.

"Yes," said the black shadow, it had his back to him, standing about three metres away, it was humanoid, but much larger than the average human. It sounded annoyed that he'd spoke.

"Why am I not dead?" The spirit laughed, hollow and cruel. It turned sideways to face him.

"Because we've been ordered to torture you first. Your cousin apparently wants your secrets as well as your life. That is why I'm here." A horrible smile played around his lips. "Don't worry, your djinni should be dead by now, my companion will be coming to find us. It'll be over soon enough."

There was a pause in which the boy stared at the floor.

"Scared for your life, child?"

"No. My djinni, not that it matters really. Not to you." The black shape in front of him looked at him in, from what he could tell from the almost non-existent face, sudden interest.

"You care for your slave?" He turned around fully, walked to the Egyptian boy and knelt in front of him so they were almost eye level.

"Maybe," said Ptolemy, wishing devoutly that this vile thing would move back to where it was.

It changed then, from the shadow into an egyptian man, a priest; bald head, plain wrap around skirt and a rather official leopard skin cloak draped around his shoulders. Big wet eyes stared at him with something like wonder.

"I'm Ammet," it said, all anger and cruelty gone from the voice.

Everything clicked into place. "Oh…"

"You've heard of me?"

"Yes, and the magician Khaba. Stories and such, just hearsay from texts," said Ptolemy quickly. Then a question occurred to him.

"Why did you care for Khaba? It does seem he didn't do much for you."

The spirit paused. "It started in Karnak when he'd been nothing but an apprentice, a child like you. He summoned me and I watched as he grew. I began to admire him. I admired him for his thirst for pain and death and cruelty, watched as he was oppressed by the priests because they feared him for it. He was like me.

"He came to realise this over time, that I wasn't scared of him, I didn't think he was a monster. He was grateful. He started giving me privileges, gaining my trust. It worked. We became almost equals, he even let me travel with him and help with his experiments, he saw that I was better than those snivelling slaves that pandered to him. And so I treated him with the utmost respect he deserved. We were friends for a long time."

"But he never treated you as an equal?"

The priest's expression went cold. "I was a slave, he treated me far better than he needed to, and he treated me with just punishment when I failed him. Do not insult him!" Ptolemy flinched.

"Sorry, I was just…" There was a pause.

"Why does your spirit love you?" Asked Ammet, breaking the silence. The egyptian boy decided to throw caution to the wind. Maybe he'd be killed quickly if he angered the marid enough.

"Because I have no upper hand over him. We are equals. He was not like you, he was cynical, untrusting, he was too old for anything else. I used no punishments, no long summonings, he barely even went outside the pentacle. I treated him with kindness. All I summoned him for was to answer questions.

After a time he asked what I was doing, I told him about my work, that I wanted to find a way to free spirits from their enslavement. Eventually, I won his trust, I didn't expect to but I did." Ptolemy felt hollow, there wasn't much hope Rekhyt was still alive. He felt his eyes sting, looked at the floor.

Then breathed, recovered. He wouldn't cry, not here. And maybe there was still hope.

When he looked up the priest was staring at him, head cocked to one side with a strange expression on his face, confusion mixed with sadness, maybe even betrayal. The spirit said nothing.

"Can you do something for me?" Said Ptolemy.

There was no emotion in his voice when he spoke again. "If you want a quick death then you can give me your secrets now and I will tell my companion, when he finds us, that you tried to escape. It will be sufficient an outcome to not warrant punish—."

"No!" Ptolemy said urgently. If there was any time left, it was running out fast. "I need you to let me do something to try to sa—"

From behind Ptolemy, in the dark depths of the library, there came an almighty roar.