Chapter 3

She still had her Thursday night shift to get through maybe if she found the cobra again she could get her answers and still be able to go to dinner with David. A part of her just wanted to curl up into his arms, but what if the images she saw was to do with him? Could he be in danger? What if she could save him?

David’s message chimed on her phone: I can’t wait to hold you on Friday, its torture when we’re at work together and I can’t hold you properly. God only know how I wish I could kiss you while on shift. I miss you Tali, love you. I want to ask you something important tomorrow night. I’m counting down the hours to hold you, David.

Shantali's chest tightened as she read David's message. Something important to ask her—her mind immediately jumped to one of the visions she'd seen in the cobra's smoke. The white dress, standing before an altar. Was that what he wanted to ask about? A proposal?

She set the phone face-down on her kitchen counter without responding, unable to reconcile the sweet anticipation in his words with the dread pooling in her stomach. If the visions were true prophecies, then accepting whatever David wanted to ask would set her on a path toward that hospital argument, toward standing at someone's grave in the autumn cold.

But what if ignoring the visions led to something worse?

Her apartment felt too small suddenly, the walls pressing in with questions she couldn't answer. She needed those ancient texts, needed to understand what serpent smoke divination really meant and why it had chosen her.

The hot shower did nothing to wash away the memory of ember eyes watching her from coils of impossible smoke. As she toweled off, Shantali caught her reflection in the bathroom mirror and froze. For just a moment, steam from the shower seemed to writhe around her face like a cobra's hood, and she saw herself older, wearing black, tears streaming down her cheeks.

She blinked hard and the steam was just steam, dissipating harmlessly toward the exhaust fan.

"Get it together," she whispered to her reflection, but her hands were shaking as she reached for her clothes.

By the time she made it to the university library, three cups of coffee hadn't steadied her nerves. The research librarian, a thin woman with silver hair and knowing eyes, seemed unsurprised by Shantali's request for materials on ancient Egyptian divination practices.

"Serpent smoke divination specifically?" The librarian's fingers flew across her keyboard. "That's quite specialized. Are you working on a thesis?"

"Research project," Shantali said vaguely. "For the museum."

"Ah." The woman's expression brightened with recognition. "You must be from the Metropolitan Museum of Ancient Arts. We get several of your researchers in here. Dr. Hassan was just asking about similar materials last month."

Shantali's pulse quickened. "Dr. Hassan?"

"Egyptologist on your staff, I believe. Lovely woman, very thorough in her research. She was particularly interested in the Ka-Wadjet prophecies." The librarian pulled up a catalog entry. "Here we are—I can get you started with Blackwood's *Ritual Smoke Practices of the Late Period* and Mahmoud's translation of the *Papyrus of the Serpent's Breath*. Fair warning though, some of the source material suggests these weren't just symbolic rituals."

"What do you mean?"

The librarian leaned forward conspiratorially. "The ancient accounts describe practitioners actually experiencing prophetic visions through the smoke. Modern scholars dismiss it as religious theater, but the documentation is remarkably consistent across all versions of research they say that the smoke cobra can appear to people at a cross road in their lives should them possible futures but its up to the receiver to pick the one that they want to come true by living their life to the fullest. But I’m sure that they’re just stories.”

Shantali's throat went dry. "And what did these accounts say about the consequences of seeing the visions?"

"That's where it gets interesting." The librarian pulled out a notepad and began jotting down call numbers. "According to the papyri, those who witnessed the cobra's prophecies became... let's say 'consumed' by the need to understand their meaning. Many abandoned their families, their duties, everything, in pursuit of forcing the visions to manifest exactly as they'd seen them."

"What happened to them?"

"The texts are unclear, but the pattern seems to be that the more they tried to control their prophesied futures, the more those futures slipped away from them. It's almost as if the act of grasping too tightly at destiny caused it to crumble." She handed Shantali the paper with the call numbers. "Third floor, ancient studies section. But Ms...?"

"Cross."

"Ms. Cross, might I suggest you also look into the writings of Dr. Amelia Thorne? She did fascinating work on the psychological aspects of ancient divination practices before her death. Her theories about induced visionary states might provide a more... grounded perspective."

Twenty minutes later, Shantali sat surrounded by dusty volumes, her notebook filling with increasingly disturbing parallels. The Ka-Wadjet prophecies, as they were formally known, had reportedly appeared to temple workers during times of personal crisis. The cobra manifestation always carried the scent of jasmine—sacred to the goddess Neith—and showed glimpses of possible futures.

But every documented case ended the same way: the witness became obsessed with interpreting and controlling their visions, ultimately destroying the very relationships and opportunities the prophecies had shown them.

One account, translated from a limestone tablet, made her blood run cold:

*"Khenti the scribe saw his beloved in white robes, their hands joined before the altar of Ptah. Yet in his desperation to bring forth this vision, he questioned her loyalty, followed her movements, demanded promises she could not give. When the cobra's smoke came to him again, he saw only her back as she walked away, and ashes where once flowers had bloomed."*

Shantali's phone buzzed. Another message from David: *Haven't heard from you today. Everything okay? Still on for tomorrow night?*