Page 119 of Dissection of Immortal Hearts
Zacharia and Mikhail exchanged a glance in the rear-view mirror. Then burst into laughter.
“A manticore with a trunk?” Zacharia’s eyes widened. “Mynightmares just reached a whole new level.”
Mikhail snorted. “As if life hasn’t already punished hybrids enough with their scarecrow forms, now a trunk…”
“Punished enough?!” Zacharia exclaimed. “Amelia, don’t curse him with a trunk – make his mane fall out. Let’s see what kind of manticore he’ll be without a coat.”
Amelia tried to scowl, but couldn’t stop her lips from curling upward.
The two continued exchanging ideas on how she might curse the other until Zacharia decided they were close enough to the village. He pulled over to the roadside and held up his phone. “There’s a signal here. Try loading whatever you need.” He handed it to Amelia.
She opened the browser and typed ‘Renenutet.’ The seconds it took for the results to load stretched out unbearably. Zacharia watched the road in the side mirror while Mikhail peered over her shoulder at the phone, so close that she caught a faint whiff of the scent that used to weaken her knees.
She clicked on the first result and began reading aloud, “‘Renenutet is among the most ancient and honoured of the Egyptian goddesses. Her presence isn’t tied to a single dynasty – she’s seen as timeless. People looked to her as a guardian of the harvest, one who could bring fertility, prosperity, luck, and even aid to women in childbirth.’”
“Why are we reading about her?” Zacharia asked.
“Because that’s what we call the necklace,” Mikhail interjected from behind. “Keep going.”
Amelia clenched her teeth to suppress a retort. As if searching for Renenutet on Google had been his idea, now he had the nerve to guide her.“‘She also has ties to the realm of the dead. In funerary rites, Renenutet was said to nourish the departed and watch over the wrappings of the mummy. As for her image…’” Amelia hesitated, scanning the page. “‘She’sshown in different forms – sometimes as a snake, sometimes a woman with a serpent’s head, and at other times as a woman crowned with a cobra.’”
“That explains the two snake heads on the necklace,” Zacharia noted.
Mikhail snorted behind her. “As sceptical as I am of human writings, this time they might have got it right.”
Amelia scanned further down the text. “Listen to this:‘In Ancient Egyptian mythology, Renenutet embodied the mystery of receiving a soul and a true name at birth. When her name is broken down as Ren-en-nutet, it can be read as ‘She who gives Ren’ – the sacred name. Myths say she stood over a newborn’s shoulders in its first days, offering protection.’”
She shifted in her seat to face both men. “This is almost like what the witcher in Antambazi said.”
“I’m lost.” Zacharia frowned.
“The Queen took me to a witcher to learn more about the necklace. He told me something along the lines of holding a physical body, one without a soul, and knowing it’s up to me to draw the soul into it.” Her eyes returned to the text.
“‘Renenutet is consort to Sobek, the crocodile god tied to the Nile’s waters and floods. In some traditions, she was also revered as a sky goddess and mother of pharaohs. Elsewhere, people believed she was wedded to Geb, the earth god, and mother of Nehebkau, the serpent-headed deity.’”
She continued reading, but the rest delved into various cults and festivals in Renenutet’s honour, offering no further insights about her or the necklace. Amelia’s initial enthusiasm waned. “I was hoping to find something about the necklace.”
“Am I the only one who finds it strange that the most ‘witchy’ object depicts an animal resembling another immortal species?” Mikhail asked.
“Well…” Amelia trailed off, revisiting the article’saccompanying images. Most of the illustrations depicted Renenutet with a snake’s head.
Snakes hadn’t struck her as unusual – they were a common symbol – but she’d never considered how closely they resembled the reptilian species.
And yet, here they were, adorning the ‘most witchy object.’
44
Constantine
Diana endured the touch of the attendants on her back without tearing off any of their hands. What had been done to her while he’d languished in Hell? He’d never seen her so… tame.
Despite the urge to inspect her wounds, he sank into the armchair, resting one ankle on the opposite knee. The adrenaline from what had unfolded – and from what he’d learned – was starting to drain from his system. His regained power crackled just beneath the surface, eager to be unleashed. But Constantine was experienced enough to recognise when to strike and when to feign defeat.
Diana’s muscles twitched in pain as the attendants rubbed an ointment onto her cleaned wounds. Constantine leaned forward, his fingers gripping the armrest. “What are you applying to her?”
The guard on his left rested a hand on his gun.
“Marigold paste,” one of the attendants said. “It helps with faster regeneration.”
