Chapter 4
Shirya's Secret Sorcery
Lost and increasingly desperate in the vast desert, Maggie stumbles upon a hidden oasis and its sole inhabitant, Shirya. Initially wary, Maggie finds herself drawn to Shirya's calm demeanor and profound knowledge of Egyptian history and lore. When a patrol of Aktunaten's magically-empowered guards attacks, Shirya effortlessly defends them with what can only be described as sorcery, shattering Maggie's carefully constructed skepticism. Shirya reveals that the wizards are indeed real, and Aktunaten's plan to summon Anubis is dangerously close to fruition. She explains that the stolen relics are keys, each holding a fragment of power necessary for the ritual. Shirya, seeing Maggie's determination and recognizing the threat, offers her assistance, becoming Maggie's guide into a world she never believed existed.
The sun beat down like a blacksmith’s hammer, relentless and unforgiving. Maggie squinted, her eyes stinging from the glare reflecting off the endless expanse of sand. She’d been walking for what felt like an eternity, her pristine vacation wardrobe now a testament to her poor planning and even poorer sense of direction. Her initial excitement about exploring the wonders of Egypt had curdled into a grim determination to simply find something other than more sand. Her canteen was nearly empty, and the only thing she’d managed to “solve” so far was the mystery of how quickly one could become dehydrated in a desert.
"Goddamn it," she muttered, kicking a loose stone that skittered away into the shimmering heat haze. "This is worse than that time I got locked in the evidence locker for six hours. At least there were donuts in there."
She trudged on, each step a weary effort. The majestic pyramids, once her destination, now felt like distant, mocking monuments to her current predicament. She’d heard the whispers, of course, the hushed tales of a wizard clan and their stolen relics, but she’d dismissed it all as local color, the kind of folklore you picked up in any tourist trap. Magic? Please. She dealt with flesh-and-blood criminals, with motives she could dissect and evidence she could hold in her hand. Mystical mumbo jumbo was for fairy tales.
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