In the burial chamber, the seven distinctly different whispers had blended from their initial cacophony into an eerie symphony.
They no longer attacked one another, seemingly having found some sort of balance.
The wild joy on Bill's face quickly faded, replaced by the focus and gravity particular to a Curse-Breaker confronting complex ancient magic.
He paced slowly around the seven earthenware jars, his gaze moving back and forth between them like a conductor trying to understand a score.
"The ancient Egyptians believed that after death, people had to pass through seven gates of the underworld. Each gate was guarded by a different deity and required the correct incantation and the correct offering."
His voice echoed through the empty burial chamber with the rigor of an academic discussion.
"These seven emotions may well correspond to the trials of the seven gates. Hunger, deception, fear... these are all inner demons a soul would encounter on its journey through the underworld. We have to guide them and soothe them in the order recorded in the Book of the Dead, turning their conflict into harmony."
He stopped before a jar whispering "anger," his brow tightly furrowed.
"But this arrangement is wrong. Nothing matches up. Neither the seven celestial bodies nor the directions associated with the Four Sons of Horus yield any logic."
Bill sank into thought. This was his greatest area of expertise, yet the puzzle before him was like a game whose rules a mischievous child had scrambled, leaving him with no idea where to begin.
Douglas did not interrupt him. He simply walked over to the jar whispering "hunger."
He neither examined the symbols on the jar nor listened to its unnerving whispers.
He reached out and tapped the rough earthenware wall gently and rhythmically with his knuckles.
Tap, tap-tap, tap.
"No,