I’ve heard the name before: Anubis. An Egyptian name. The name of a god.The god of the dead.

She comes closer to me. She is beautiful, in the way lightning striking across a storm-swept sky is beautiful: dangerous and distant.

Well, it’s probably a good thing Anubis didn’t kiss me. I would have died all over again.

His lips are soft and crushing at the same time. I’m not sure what to do—is there an algorithm for kissing?

Ahhh." Anubis narrows his eyes at me. “I’ve given you inspiration. Now you’re thinking about bringing the lightbulb to ancient Egypt. It would be a hit––all those dark tombs.”You. I was thinking about you. His eyebrows rise. “Huh? Me?”Fluorine uranium carbon potassium. I said that out loud. "I mean," I stutter, "I was thinking about…unimolecular reactions.

I could have killed you,” I snarl.“You think you can become a god. You always meddle and change and create. No, that is not the way. What is shall always be. What is known shall always stand.”“Then you’ve never been in a laboratory!

From beneath the folds of his robes, he reveals a small steel dagger. “You have tempted fate so many times already and still yield to it. Time for history to rewrite itself. Time for Tutankhamen to have a new ending.” Aten holds the hilt out to me.I stare at the dagger. The hilt is bronze, carved with sun discs that glow when they catch the sun. “What do you want me to do with that?”Aten smiles a white, gaping grin. “Kill Tutankhamen and carve out his heart.

I want to go home.”“Impossible. You’re here now.”“But why?”“Jane Ezrael,” Anubis says, “you’re dead.