Recreated Page 5
Panic set in, though there was no way to physically express it. If this was the way Anubis returned me to New York after he’d mummified Amon, I was glad that I couldn’t remember it. We popped into the light like a bubble rising from the ocean, and a burst of sensations came at me all at once. I had form and substance. I could feel. I could see and hear. Actually, I was so grateful just to be alive that when the journey ended, I held tightly to Anubis with trembling limbs.
Anubis wrapped his arms around me in a way that had nothing to do with keeping me upright, his lips grazing my temple, when he suddenly growled and set me aside. Though I wobbled, he made no attempt to come closer and glared at me like I’d tricked him somehow. Recovering somewhat, I leaned on a nearby table.
We’d materialized inside a room full of dusty artifacts. It was a place I didn’t recognize. “Vizier!” Anubis called impatiently while keeping a careful distance from me. “Vizier, come here at once!”
I heard the unmistakable sound of pottery shattering on the packed dirt floor. “Oh my!” a familiar voice exclaimed as shuffling footsteps came closer. A figure rounded the corner. He lifted his white fedora and wrung it in his hands as he looked at Anubis with wide eyes. The man wet his lips. “Can I…can I help you?” he asked warily.
“Do you know who I am?”
Dr. Hassan tilted his head, narrowing his brown eyes. “I hesitate to guess,” he finally answered.
“Perhaps you need a refresher course in your own studies, Doctor.” Anubis threw out his arm, gesturing to me as if in accusation. “If you don’t know me, then surely you remember this one.”
Anubis moved and Dr. Hassan turned his startled gaze in my direction and gasped. “Lily?”
“Hello, Oscar,” I addressed him with a warm smile. “It’s good to see you.”
“And you.” He moved a few steps closer, unwittingly inserting himself between me and the tall, intimidating man glowering at us, perhaps a means of protecting me, though both of us knew there was no protecting either of us if Anubis wanted to cause harm. Attempting to placate the irritable god, I decided to help.
“Oscar, meet Anubis. Anubis, this is Dr. Hassan, one of your most devoted followers.”
Anubis folded his arms across his chest and harrumphed. “You’d think someone claiming devotion would at least recognize the one he professed to worship.”
“Just ignore him,” I said to Oscar. “He’s a little testy today. Besides, he’s all bark and no bite, just like his dog.”
Dr. Hassan glanced up at the god, more than a little worried about my choice of words. “Lily, I don’t think—”
“It’s all right,” I interrupted. “We’re doing him a huge favor. So he owes us. Right, Anubis?”
The god frowned, but his lip twitched in a way that made me think he wasn’t really as upset as he professed to be. “Are you familiar with the Medinet Habu Temple in Luxor?” he asked Oscar.
“Of course.” Hassan took a step forward and placed his hat back on his head.
“Hidden within the court depicting the Seven Scenes of War with the People of the Sea there is a secret doorway located just beyond the second pylon. Seek the mark of the sphinx and turn the stone counterclockwise. Follow the passageway to the Room of Riddles. There you will find inscribed upon the walls all the information you should need to complete the transformation ritual known as Rite of Wasret.”
“Wasret? What do you need of her?” asked Oscar.
At the same time I whispered to him, “Who’s Wasret?”
Speaking louder to regain control of the conversation, Anubis explained, “Lilliana Young must complete the ritual to take on the mantle of Wasret in order to breach the netherworld and rescue Amon, and you, my good doctor, will serve as her tether to mortality should she succeed.”
“Breach the…” Dr. Hassan paused, confusion evident on his face. “I’m not sure I fully comprehend your purpose,” he said respectfully.
Anubis sighed, his impatience obvious. I tried to clarify. “Anubis wants me to become a sphinx so that I can save Amon, who escaped his duty by heading into the netherworld. It’s a dangerous place, where he’s suffering, and if he doesn’t return, Seth could breach the barrier and destroy the world.”
I turned to Anubis, with eyebrows raised, to see if he wanted to add anything. He was smiling at me like a proud parent. “There, you see?” he said. “I am no longer needed.”
“Before you depart, great one, might you indulge me a moment as I ask two questions?”
“Very well. But make your queries brief.”
Nodding vigorously, Dr. Hassan asked his first question. “Do you mean that you want Lilliana to become the matriarch of the Order of the Sphinx such as the pharaoh Hatshepsut?” A gleam had lit his eyes and I could see that he was excited about the prospect.
“No. Though that title will naturally fall to her once she goes through the rite. Lilliana will in actuality become a sphinx, something only a few mortals have ever attempted.” Glancing down at his fingertips and running his thumb over them, he added in a more hushed voice, “None of which have lived through the process.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. But the idea of my extremely untimely death didn’t seem to faze Dr. Hassan, who took an eager step forward.
Anubis folded his arms across his chest and frowned when he saw my startled expression. “Of course, they didn’t have the help of the gods,” he added almost as an afterthought. “Now, what is your second question?”
“Ah. Yes. Why Wasret? She is a goddess so unremarkable that I can count on one hand the number of recovered stelae depicting her likeness. There is not one temple dedicated to her. Most Egyptologists believe she was so inconsequential that her name was rubbed out entirely from the annals of history and that any deeds that might have possibly been done in her name were assigned to other deities.”
“The reason all of your companions who spend their lives digging in the stone and dust of the past have found very little regarding Wasret is because she doesn’t exist. Yet.”
“What do you mean?”
“That is your third question, Doctor. I am afraid I’ll have to leave you to discover the rest of the story on your own. It is time to say goodbye, Lilliana Young.” Anubis snapped his fingers and my balance shifted. Before I could do anything except gasp in shock, my body lifted off the ground and sped toward him.
When I was stable, he skimmed my cheek with his fingertips and cautioned, “Do not trust anyone in the netherworld, even those you may consider friends.” His eyes raked over my face and he leaned closer, his lips grazing my ear. “I do very much hope I will see you again. Good luck.”
With that, he took a step back and a black vortex opened beneath his feet, sucking him down before re-forming into a solid surface.
All was quiet for a moment until I heard Oscar exclaim, “How remarkable!”
Spinning around, I headed back to him and wrapped him in a hug. “I missed you.”
He patted my back and shifted his hat so it wouldn’t fall off. “I missed you, too, young lady.”
“So do you understand what it is he wants me to do?” I asked as I pulled away.
Oscar’s eyes lost their gleam and as he looked away, he rubbed his forehead. “I really won’t know all the details until we find this hidden room. But I can honestly say, I have never, in my long life of studying the stories of the gods and serving as the grand vizier, felt more frightened.”
“I suppose it’s as good a time as any to get under way,” Dr. Hassan stated flatly. He glanced in my direction but quickly rose from where he had sat down to rest and focused his attention on the hat he was kneading with his hands. Now I was even more worried. Dr. Hassan’s hat was sacred to him. He would never abuse it. “Unless you need to rest first?” he inquired kindly as he replaced the twisted fedora on his head.
“No. I think I’m okay. Besides, who can sleep after a nighttime visitor like Anubis? That kind of end-of-the-world gloom-and-doom announcement would
give me nightmares, I should think.”
“Yes,” he mumbled distractedly, and gave me a weak smile as he began to gather his things.
“There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?” I asked as I began helping him stuff his tools into a bag. “You think I’m going to fail.”
“No. No,” he emphasized unequivocally when I gave him a knowing look. “You will not fail. I simply won’t allow it.”
“But you don’t really know, do you? There aren’t any guarantees.”
“Let’s just worry about one thing at a time, shall we?” When I reluctantly nodded, he blew out a breath and said, “First things first. We need to get to Luxor.”
“Right.” I hoisted one of his bags over my shoulder and waited patiently for him to finish up.
When he finally turned toward me, he did a double take as if he hadn’t really gotten a good look at me earlier. He pushed his hat up higher on his forehead, dropping his bag on his makeshift office table, and stretched out his fingers to touch the winged harness on my shoulder. “What is this that you’re wearing, Lily? I’d assumed it was your nightdress, but obviously I was mistaken.”
I smoothed my hand down the dress and felt the heat rise in my cheeks. “It’s a bit much, I know. Anubis made it for me.”
“It’s lovely,” Dr. Hassan said in a clinical sort of way as he peered more closely at each segment of the band. He walked around me slowly and didn’t stop until he found the scarab at my waist. I got the sense that he knew it was there all along but he’d purposely saved the best, most interesting discovery for last.
Dr. Hassan dug through his bag and brought out a crazy pair of glasses with protruding lenses. Flipping a switch as he adjusted them over his eyes caused a brilliant beam of light to hit my waist. I stood as still as I could manage while he twisted the lenses until he was satisfied and then bit my lip as he mumbled to himself. Finally he stood and pronounced, “It’s authentic.”
“Of course it is,” I said. “What did you expect?”
“I’m not sure. The gem is a genuine emerald of the highest quality as far as I can tell. Did you know that it is a heart scarab?”
“Yes.” He took off the glasses and thumped them in his palm, calculating something. His perceptive and all-too-sharp eyes searched my face. “Before you ask, I’ll tell you. It was Amon’s. Anubis said a piece of Amon’s heart is tied to it. I can actually make out his heartbeat if I listen carefully.”
Dr. Hassan’s jaw actually dropped. “Astounding.” I couldn’t tell from the tone of his voice if he was excited or concerned but suddenly astounding seemed like a word I didn’t want to inspire someone like Dr. Hassan to say. Astounding in this case couldn’t be a good thing. In my mind it translated to all the words he didn’t say. Words like perplexing, unheard-of, baffling, shocking, or maybe just what-the-heck-have-you-gotten-yourself-into-Lily.
I tried to squelch my nervous thoughts and launched into an explanation of everything that had happened as best as I could recall it. He listened quietly, asking only brief questions for clarification, and when I was done, he sat heavily on the edge of the table. “I’ve never heard of any of this. The story of Isis and her husband, Osiris, is one of the most well documented of all the various tales of Egypt, and never have I found a hint on any of the engravings that Isis held a piece of his heart. Though now that I think on it…”
Oscar stood up and quickly sketched a very accurate depiction of the heart scarab on some rubbing paper, then carefully folded it and stuffed it into his one of his many vest pockets. “Of all the couples in the Egyptian pantheon, the two of them are the most connected, the most written about.”
He blew out a breath. “Even so, the two of them were immortal. I have no idea how this connection of yours works, but I should think it would pose great danger to a mortal, which is why I suppose Anubis needs you to go through this ceremony. Lily, I won’t lie to you and say that I have no concerns. The sacrifices you will be called upon to make coupled with the dangers of the journey…” He rubbed his neck as if he could already feel the tension mounting. “I just hope that I can serve your purposes well.”
“If anyone can help me, Dr. Hassan, it’s you.”
“Let’s pray that you are right. Come, Lily. Let’s get you to my car.”
As we headed up a dark and dusty stairwell toward the Egyptian summertime light, I asked, “Where are we?” Heat rose from the sand and rocky hills in waves.
“Saqqara. It’s the ancient capital of Memphis.” When he saw I was at a loss, he added, “We’re about thirty kilometers south of Cairo.” As he led me to his vehicle, he explained, “I’ve been working on this dig site for the last three months. This is the tomb of the Witness Who Fed the Flesh of the God, in other words, Maia, the wet nurse of King Tutankhamun. She was discovered here in the late nineties and I am officially overseeing the excavation of her chapel.”
“Are there pyramids in this area?”
“Several, including the famous stepped pyramid of Djoser.”
“Did you, you know,” I continued in a whisper, “hide any of the brothers here?”
“Not here. But the body of Ahmose is not too far from this location. I never choose a site where there is active digging going on, lest the Sons of Egypt be discovered.”
“Oh.”
It disturbed me to think of Ahmose rotting away in a hidden tomb. I couldn’t bear thinking of him in that way, let alone Amon. Instead of dwelling on it for too long, I asked, “So how far is it to the temple of the…?”
“Medinet Habu.”
“Right. That. It’s in Luxor?”
“Correct. It will take eight hours or so.”
As we drove, Dr. Hassan spent the majority of the time trying to make sure I understood exactly how perilous this plan would be by listing every bad thing he knew about secret rites gone wrong, clueless humans who wandered into god-created traps, and the netherworld in general.
But Amon’s heart called to me. There was no one else who could do it. Not Anubis. Not Asten or Ahmose, and not Dr. Hassan. I, Lilliana Young, an average mortal girl, would end up being either the hero or the tragic victim—the first in a long line of casualties in the war between good and evil, if I couldn’t prevent the unthinkable from happening.
It was late when we arrived and the temple was closed to tourists, but after a few words with the night watchman, Dr. Hassan was able to gain us entrance, and the guard swung open the short wooden gate that would have been almost pathetically easy to climb over. “Why don’t they protect the temples better?” I asked as we moved away from the small guardhouse.
“Don’t get me started,” Dr. Hassan answered dryly as he handed me a flashlight. “Now, if I remember correctly, the second pylon should be in this direction.”
We passed under the gateway of the first pylon and Dr. Hassan gave me a quick lesson on the architecture. “Pylons look much like the hieroglyph depicting the horizon. Do you see the shape there? It looks like two large hills with a sun rising between them.”
“I remember that Horus got his name from the horizon.”
“Close. It’s the other way around. When you enter the temple, you enter the realm of the sun, or sun god in this case. Each pylon is a doorway into the next realm and each section can have different purposes. Remember that shape in case you see it later. Don’t forget, Lily, the sun always leads to life. To see the sunrise is to embrace life. The sunset is where you will find death.”
“Is that why you used the sunrise at the worm cave to see through the adder stone?”
Oscar smiled. “I’m pleased that you remember.”
“I’ve learned that it helps when you’re in love with a mummy to pay attention to little things like curses, adder stones, and long-winded archaeologists.”
“I’ll have you know, young lady, that I am one of the most sought-after lecturers in Egypt. I am hardly long-winded,” he said with a wry grin. “Now. Where was I?”
“Pylons.”
> “Ah, yes, pylons can also serve as more than decoration or symbol. Ancient stairways and rooms have been found in some. I am thinking that this room Anubis described may be one of these.”
We entered an open courtyard guarded by massive statues and columns. “Who’s he?” I asked, pointing to the statue.
“Ramesses the third as Osiris.”
“What do you mean by ‘as Osiris’?”
“Pharaohs often depicted themselves as gods in an attempt to either gain the favor of the god or to increase the likelihood of their own immortality.”
“But none of them actually were immortal, were they?”
“Not to my knowledge. Though by creating statues of such immense size, these ancient kings and pharaohs are remembered long after their deaths. That is a sort of immortality, I think.”
Passing the statues, we entered the opening through the second pylon that led to a hall. As I studied the carvings that told the story of the invasion of the Sea Peoples, Dr. Hassan searched the pylon for a symbol representing a sphinx. He told me what to look for, but after ten minutes or so, all the images seemed to blur before my eyes and blend into one giant incomprehensible puzzle.
I was ready to give up when Dr. Hassan called out, “Lily! I believe I’ve found what we are looking for.”
My footsteps echoed in the long-abandoned hall as I made my way over to him. I shivered and glanced around me, but all I saw were dark shadows and the stirred-up dust particles reflecting in the beam of my flashlight.
Dr. Hassan had his light aimed at an image carved into the wall that looked nothing like the one I’d heard him describe. When I pointed this out, he shook his head. “I understand your confusion. The symbol I described to you, the one that looks like a lion reclining, was the Egyptian version of a sphinx. This one is different. Closer, in fact, to the concept the Greeks have for a sphinx.”
“I don’t understand. What’s the difference?”