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though Harper had not known this until their encounter with the horrible multiplicity of feeding mouths in the service of the ancient sorcerer who called itself Ozymandias.
The confrontation with Ozymandias had brought them together, cementing something that had long been brewing, almost without his awareness. He had always thought her more attractive than any of the film stars he knew but hadn’t thought his attraction might be reciprocated. And as it turned out, there was no Mr. Hope.
He fixed things with talk far more often than with force. But what people remembered and talked about was always the action.
“Yes, but what is wrong with her?” asked June fearfully. “We’ll find out,” Harper reassured her. “Tell me—she was shooting Wolf yesterday, with Kon Kar Kin? What scene?”
The shadow had definitely come out of the mirror, gone through the young woman and the dog, and disappeared.
She looked around swiftly to ensure they were unobserved, darted forward, and placed a kiss on his lips before striding purposefully away. Harper raised his hand and touched his mouth, unable to prevent the awful thought that this momentary, fleeting kiss might be their last.
“But what afflicts Ellsworth is not some disease or condition that can be explained in our modern world. He has been possessed by an ancient evil, a creature of the deep darkness, long imprisoned, who was yesterday freed.”
“Or rather, a much more recently fashioned lamp dedicated to her, which is as effective. She was an Egyptian queen, a sorceress and implacable enemy of things like this Gnawer of Shadows. The papyrus wick was a bit harder to get hold of. Thankfully, Meredith’s acquisitive proclivities helped as well as harmed.”
A light that filled the pit not with the scent of burning sesame oil but with the rich, wet smell of a great river that could only be the Nile.
“I had such an awful dream,” she said slowly. “Have I been sleepwalking or something? You know, I haven’t been taking anything, Mr. Harper. Honest, I haven’t.”
