Page 60 of Dissection of Immortal Hearts (Hospital for Immortal Creatures #3)

“I’m not great with words,” Zacharia said, as if reading her unspoken thoughts and sensing her reluctance to voice them. “But if you ever want to talk…”

“Actually, I need something else. A phone or a computer with internet. There’s no signal here.”

“There’s a village about twenty kilometres away. I’ll drive you,” he said.

A faint smile spread across her lips. That was Zacharia – a man you didn’t have to ask twice. He simply had your back.

“Are we going?” He nodded towards the car.

Amelia glanced at the cabin. She owed no one any explanation. Without another word, she circled the car and slid into the passenger seat. She heard the boot opening and closing again. Zacharia returned the duffel bag, then settled into the driver’s seat.

She couldn’t resist a glance at the back seat, half expecting to find traces of Mikhail’s blood on the black leather.

Zacharia caught her look. “I almost had it reupholstered.”

She reached for her seatbelt just as her door swung open. Mikhail leaned against the roof of the car, peering inside to survey them. “Going somewhere?”

“Yes. I need internet,” she snapped.

He merely nodded and closed her door. Was he leaving?

For a fleeting moment, she thought he might spare her an argument about whether it was safe to visit a populated area. The rear door opened, and Mikhail slipped into the back seat. “I’m coming with you.”

Of course, he is.

Zacharia started the engine, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Then buckle up, mate. You wouldn’t want to get fined for being an irresponsible passenger.”

Amelia rolled her eyes.

***

Amelia

While they were driving to the village, Zacharia recounted how he’d ended up at the house of the Byala Voda witch and his trials with repairing her roof and dealing with her daughter.

“Now I understand why the magic suddenly intensified – it coincided with your escape from that alternate realm. And then the watch hid you again.” Zacharia straightened the wheel after another sharp turn. “That… thing, the lokio , was creepy.” He glanced in the rear-view mirror with a wry smile.

“At least now the only witch capable of such magic is dead.” Mikhail rested his elbow on Amelia’s seat, positioning himself between the two front seats.

“We don’t know that.” Zacharia cast a sidelong glance at Amelia. “From what you’ve told me and judging by the rumours circulating at the cabin, you might not even be human any more. Witch, perhaps?”

“More like an unidentified immortal species,” Mikhail added flatly.

Amelia spun around in her seat, gaping at him. Had he really just said that?

“I didn’t mean it as an insult,” Mikhail clarified, his tone unbothered.

Zacharia raised an eyebrow. “Unidentified immortal species? Even the snobs are kinder than you – they call us ‘hybrids.’”

“So, she’s a hybrid of human, witch… and Oracle?” Sarcasm laced Mikhail’s voice.

“A triple hybrid?” Zacharia mused. “Sounds… futuristic.”

“Sounds unidentified.”

“Excuse me, I’m right here!” Amelia glared at them both. “For your information, I hope I am a witch. Then I can curse you both with tails in your human forms and elephant trunks in your animal ones!”

Zacharia and Mikhail exchanged a glance in the rear-view mirror. Then burst into laughter.

“A manticore with a trunk?” Zacharia’s eyes widened. “My nightmares 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’s shown 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’s accompanying 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.’