The Anubis Plague (Zahra Kane Archeological Thrillers Book 1) by Matt James & Nick Thacker

Author:Matt James & Nick Thacker [James, Matt]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Conundrum Publishing
Published: 2022-09-18T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 55

Ifza

Ifza quickly shut the door behind her. She was due to meet with her brother as soon as she was done checking on Grant. He was just across the hall from the surgical suite, preparing the sacred canopic jar for transition. It’s what the Book of the Dead called the process of the hellstone changing to its life-taking form. It transitioned from the harmless to the harmful.

The Ayad siblings had grown up with this exact possibility in mind, though, if Ifza was being honest, she never thought she’d see the day that it would happen. So many others in their bloodline had failed before them. Why were they to be the ones to succeed? What made her and her brother so special? No one had been more devout to the cause than their grandfather.

Until Khaliq was born.

His beliefs were unshakeable, and above all else, were at the forefront of everything he did. Ifza wasn’t too far behind. She wanted the plague to come about as much as anyone. Her desire to see it came from her need to cleanse the planet of the weak and unworthy.

The Ayads were worthy.

Ifza pushed off the surgical suite’s door and closed the short distance between it and the adjacent examination room. It was where her brother had set up shop. He had spent the last day, since arriving from Cairo with Baahir, preparing for his part in the transition.

Ifza took a deep breath and turned the doorknob. It quietly opened to reveal a low-lit space beyond. The only light within the room was a ring of candles encircling her brother.

He was kneeling in the center of the circle, wearing nothing except a traditional shendyt. The kilt-like garment was standard attire for a wide variety of social classes from ancient times but was typically worn by nobles or those from the upper class.

Khaliq’s was constructed out of the finest silk, instead of linen, as was the custom, and was incredibly soft to the touch. He wore a crown on his bald head that featured the jackal head of Anubis, and his neck and wrists were adorned with jewelry made of pure gold. He certainly did look like a Egyptian pharaoh.

And every king had an enforcer. That was Ifza’s calling. When her brother needed something special done, she went out and did it personally. She loved being involved and getting her hands dirty. Ifza didn’t know anything else. She had been trained in the art of warfare since the day she could walk.

“Ifza,” Khaliq said, motioning to the floor next to him, “come, sit beside me.”

The stoic killer straightened her posture and marched forward. The air in the room was unnerving. Heat radiated from a small, electric stovetop. Resting atop it was a familiar stone bowl. The two-thousand-year-old, hand-cut artifact had been the oldest heirloom in the Ayad family tree until the canopic jar resurfaced.

Ifza took her place on her brother’s right hand and settled in on her knees like him. Khaliq raised a sack similar to the one she had used on Grant and handed it to her.

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