For a second, the mummy stood immobile, gazing blindly at Amber through slitted bandages. Then the head drooped and the chest slumped, until Amber realized the shell was crumbling inward. A dent creased the skull and caved in. The spine telescoped with a crackle. Fingers fell from the hands, one tiny bone at a time. The knees sagged, and the body keeled. Striking the floor was the last blow. The mummy shattered into dust, powder, rotten bandages, and a chain of tarnished silver, the whole pile no more than a finger's width deep.
In the silence, Reiver observed, 'A good breeze would scatter her to the four winds, poor thing.'
'That's only her remains,' said Amber. 'Somewhere, her soul walks free for the first time in ages-with Gheqet and Tafir, who are free too. Just like us, my good friends.'
She squeezed the men's hands, smiled, and they smiled back. Backing, Amber pulled closed the heavy double doors of Cursrah's last royal court.
'Looks like a storm brewing.'
Standing at a tunnel's mouth, the adventurers watched sand whirl and sizzle by. Already a drift had piled ankle-high across the entrance.
'We better move quickly,' said Reiver. 'If this keeps up, the whole valley could be buried.'
'Most likely.' Amber shifted her nearly-empty pack and bobbed her capture noose. 'This storm isn't natural, I think. The mummy-Amen star-may have conjured it, or even Great Calim himself. It's just as well. Cursrah belongs to another time, not ours.'
'Are you sure you don't want some loot?' The men shifted sagging, clinking packs. As they'd spiraled up the tunnels, they'd passed the breached chamber previously stuffed with treasure. Most was gone. Whether the wind walker had whirled away the fabulous horde to some other plane, or the White Flame's bandits had hidden it, they couldn't tell. By gleaning corners and the wreck of the antique clepsydra, and picking up drabs along the way, Reiver and Hakiim had each netted a fat double handful of coins in gold, silver, and electrum, and a few gems and trinkets. Reiver had wanted to break down other walls and find more, but a sixth sense warned that time ran short, and indeed, they'd found the wind rising ominously. Amber had taken no treasure, and now shook her head.
'Money can't give me anything I want,' she said. 'It's what your carry in your heart and head that's important.'
'What about carrying that on your head?' pointed Hakiim.
'What? Oh.' Amber touched her forehead. She'd worn the moonstone tiara so long it felt like part of her. Tugging it off, she gazed at it for a moment then said, 'I should have given this back to Amenstar.'
Stooping, Amber set the tiara gently on the pillow of sand at her feet and smiled.
'Ready?'
Hakiim tisked. 'I think all that bewitching addled your brain.'
Amber smiled and said, 'If you mean, will some part of my spirit always remain in Cursrah? You may be right. I've seen so much of its past… almost lived it…'
She stood so long, staring into the wind that howled and slobbered around the tunnel mouth, that Reiver finally nudged her shoulder.
Shaking her head, Amber tucked her kaffiyeh across her face. Together the three friends marched into the burgeoning sandstorm.
