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Chapter Thirty-Six

While the humans worked their fingers to the bone in what seemed, to them at least, to be a fruitless endeavour, broken only by sparks of hope that were soon extinguished on closer view, the Gods were also working.

Atum pored over his writings and observations, untouched and unread for centuries, jotting down the old formulas and calculations he needed to bring his powers back to the forefront and instil in his possessions.

The ingredients made him cringe. The herbs and insects were not known in this country and some were thought to be extinct.

"They will not be," he muttered, reaching for his pipe and pressing down the piquant mix of tobacco. "Only hidden and cultivating in the hands of one who appreciates their glory."

He moved across to the bookcase where a domed crystal sat beside old and new books, the soft blue hue constantly glowing and crafting a strange light from its polished surface. Even the dus

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