Bewitched

I remember Memnon’s eyes: dark and smoky on the outside, light like honey on the inside. I remember the way those eyes looked at me, as though I were everything Memnon loved and then everything he hated.

“I… After the plane crashed, there was a voice—and magic—that called to me.”

“Called to you?” she echoes, her eyebrows rising in disbelief.

I nod. “My memory of it is a little fuzzy. But that magic…it led back to a tomb.”

“A tomb?” She’s looking at me like I’ve lost it.

“Goddess be damned,” I whisper. “I’m not making this up. I found an undisturbed tomb while on my magic quest, and I fucking disturbed it.” I pause to take a deep breath. “Listen, I know it sounds hard to believe. I’m not Indiana Jones. Still, I followed a trail of magic that led to a crypt, and I entered it.”

“Why would you do that?” she whispers furiously. Now, finally, she seems to believe me.

“I don’t know.” How can I explain the effect his magic had on me? Even now I remember how it whispered in my ear, and tugged on my skin, and drew me ever closer to the tomb. I…couldn’t ignore it. I didn’t want to.

“Okay,” Sybil says, waving my explanation away. “So you went inside a crypt…” She waits for me to continue.

I take a deep breath. “The place was covered in spells, really arcane ones. I don’t know how long they’d been there, but they were still intact.”

Sybil nods. “That sometimes happens with old spells,” she says. “Age can strengthen well-placed magic.” This girl loves magical history.

I continue. “Beyond all the spells, there was a sarcophagus—and I, uh, opened it.”

Sybil pinches the bridge of her nose, then takes a large swallow of her drink. She shakes her head. “You’re never supposed to open shit like that. Tombs—especially old ones—are full of curses.”

About that…

“There was a man inside the sarcophagus, Sybil. He looked just as alive as you or me, except he was sleeping.” I lower my voice even further. “Somehow, he was the one who had been calling to me. I don’t know how he managed to use his magic when he couldn’t wake, but he did. And it looked like he’d been in that coffin for centuries.”

Sybil frowns. “Selene, I say this with all the love in my heart, but are you sure you weren’t just imagining this? Maybe you got a concussion during the crash…”

I give my friend a look. “My memory may not be perfect, but I know what I saw.”

If anything, Sybil looks more horrified, not less. “Then what do you think happened to this man?” she asks.

“He was cursed”—My queen, what have you done?—“by someone close to him, I think.”

“And they buried him alive in that tomb? For centuries?”

It’s a terrifying prospect. “I don’t know, Sybil. There’s obviously more to the story than that. He seemed…like he might have done something to deserve it.”

She stares at me for a long second, her expression strange. “You said earlier that you woke something,” she begins slowly. “Please don’t tell me that he was that thing.”

I swallow. “I mean, I couldn’t just leave him there.”

“Selene,” she admonishes, like I forgot a coffee date and not, you know, let loose an evil ancient dude.

I open my mouth to defend myself, but what is there to say? It was a supremely bad idea. One I blithely embraced until Memnon the Cursed decided I was the asshole who ruined his life.

I run a thumb over the rim of the cup in my hand and chew my lower lip. “There’s one more thing.”

Sybil’s eyes widen. “How is there more to this story?”

I huff out a laugh, even though my stomach is tying itself into knots. “I think Memnon—”

“Memnon? He has a name?”

I nod. I take a deep breath and meet her eyes. “I think he followed me back.”

Sybil looks aghast. “Followed you back? Why would he do that?”

My empress.

My queen.

I can all but hear his words and see the look in his eyes when he said them.

“Memnon seems to think I was the one who trapped him in the tomb, and now he’s after me.”

I’m coming for you.

Fuck. I really must not forget this.

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