Father lowered his spear and stared. The black lion snorted. It sniffed the air, seeking our scent. Its eyes glowed in the darkness. It was clearly not a lion of this world. Father set the spear on the ground and stepped out of the brush into full view of the beast. The lion growled.
Father looked over his shoulder to show me a happy grin. “I know this lion,” he said.
I groaned. “That is well and fine, Father, but you have not been in Egypt in nearly two hundred years. Can you trust that a lion’s memory matches an elephant’s?”