Mummy: The Curse

Today we look at Father of Ab, a story by Lisa Morton from the Curse of the Blue Nile anthology for Mummy: The Curse.

Nebet’s tomb was set into a hillside, and opened onto a large enclosed yard that displayed obvious great wealth. Even though it was night, the air was warm, smelled of smoke, and a slight reddish glow covered the sky, blocking out any stars.

“Where are we?” Nebet asked, eyeing the luminescent, blue pool before her, surrounded by tile, stone, and plants she knew had never grown in Irem. Gonzalez answered, “The city of Los Angeles.” As he saw her pause and stare into the sky, he added, “…on the western edge of the North American continent.”

Nebet turned her attention to the three men with Gonzalez, who seemed to represent a variety of races: one looked like a traveling merchant she’d once met from the Far East, one looked like Gonzalez, and one had pale skin the hue of the simple white shroud she wore. “None of you look Iremite.”

Gonzalez smiled. “Los Angeles is a melting pot, and the Tef-Aabhi have embraced that. We have all manner of people in the guild. My own heritage is from a country to the south of here called Mexico.”

Nebet stared at him unblinkingly.

Gonzalez paused by the edge of the pool, its shifting surface forming dancing shadows on his dark features. “It’s true that I was not present in Irem,” he answered, “but my ancestry is legitimate, as is my service. We’ve passed the knowledge on from generation to generation. I may not have been present during your Rite of Return, but I know how to assist you in fulfilling your sacred purpose.”

As he spoke, it was hard for Nebet to concentrate on his words. Arisen often suffered confusion upon first beginning the Descent, when the Sekhem roiled within, nearly overpowering thought… but it was not her own force that distracted her.

It was the reason she had been awakened. Whatever had been found — although “released” was probably more appropriate — was substantial enough to make the air vibrate with its essence. No normal human would sense it, but to a mummy, a creature of occult senses, it was like moving through a thick mist.

“This object that has been found…” she ventured.

Gonzalez said, “I’ll leave that to John to explain.”

They walked to a short ?ight of brick steps; Nebet reached the top, where she gaped at the house just beyond. Even though she didn’t (yet) recognize the style, the elegance of the design and construction was breathtaking. “This is the Tef-Aabhi’s place…?” Gonzelez hesitated before answering, “Well, actually…it’s John’s home. John Medina — our nomarch.”

Nebet wanted to question Gonzalez further (what had Medina contributed to the Tef-Aabhi to have acquired this much personal wealth?), but Gonzalez had disappeared into the house. She followed him past large open glass doors and into a room filled with antiques, including some of Egyptian design that nagged at Nebet’s consciousness. She was examining a standing iron oil-lamp when a voice called her name.