Recreated by Colleen Houck Page A

was well hidden, but I waited and watched until I was sure that no one and nothing larger than a squirrel was near before venturing out.
    At first, I cupped my hands in the cascading stream and poured the droplets into my mouth, but I found it vastly unsatisfying. I looked both ways and, still seeing nothing, plunged my whole face into the trickling stream, opening my mouth and taking in water in big gulps.
    A part of my mind nagged me about the bugs, worms, and diseases of various kinds, but that Lily, the New York City girl, was no longer in charge. I was thirsty. I needed to drink. The river was full of water. I liked the simplicity of it. There was no doubt. No hesitancy. There was only need and the fulfilling of need. The pesky echo of myself was a girl distracted by too many thoughts, and as I drank, I allowed all of my worries and niggling fears to slip into the river and float away.
    Satiated at last, I stepped back and plucked at the bodice of my wet dress. The water felt cool and refreshing on my hot skin, and I tossed my heavy hair behind me, irritated by the weight of it on my shoulders. I heard a noise and crouched down, barely noticing that my golden sandals were now mud-stained and the edges of my dress and bare legs were filthy.
    A trio of small rodents had come to the water to drink and my belly rumbled. I wondered how long I would be expected to wander the savanna. Would I have to catch my own food, kill and cook it? How would I even start a fire? Perhaps there was some edible vegetation or maybe some kind of fruit.
    I stayed by the river, hidden for several more hours. There was no way to explain it, but it felt like the right place to be. After an hour of vainly attempting to catch a fish for a meal, I finally gave up and resigned myself to spending the night not only alone in the middle of the wilderness, but also hungry.
    After digging a small crevice in the rocks near the river, I lay down in my little earthen womb, stared up at the stars, and listened to the creatures of the night until the steady sounds of the insects lulled me to sleep.
    “Lily! Lily? Can you hear me?”
    The urgency in his voice dragged my dreaming self to consciousness, though my exhaustion kept trying to tow me back down to oblivion. “Amon?” I whispered groggily. “How are we able to do this again?”
    “Lily? Good, you can hear me. We can only communicate like this when we are both in the dream world.”
    I cracked open my dream-self’s eyes by sheer determination alone and saw Amon’s form sleeping with his head resting on his arm. A large purple bruise decorated the exposed side of his face and the light from a fire danced over his skin. I longed to run my hand up his arm and press a light kiss to his temple and even attempted to reach out to him, but it was no use. Our dream selves couldn’t touch. The mental effort exhausted me, and I was about to slip back into my happy dream world when I heard Amon speak again.
    “You must try to stay awake and listen, Young Lily. I know you’re tired, but this is important. You cannot do this. Do you understand me? I will not permit you to endanger yourself for me. Not for any reason.”
    Amon’s intensity dispersed the darkness that offered sweet respite. I sputtered, “But Isis said—”
    “Trusting the gods is a foolhardy endeavor. They only want to protect themselves. I will be well enough off, and I promise I will find a way to wait for you and will meet you again when it is time for you to pass on to the next plane of existence. That will only happen after you have lived a long life filled with love and mortal experience. You must not think of me or of this. This path that you are attempting is too dangerous.”
    “But it’s the only way to save you. The Devourer will come for you, Amon. She will consume your heart and destroy the world. I won’t let that happen.”
    He was silent for a moment. “Tell me everything they said,” he urged.
    I rehearsed to him all