I’d never been in the room before, and was excited by the prospect of discovering all the goodies it contained. Are the tablets Marcus mentioned here? What’s in the chests? Which texts are lining the shelves? I had no doubt the collection would prove to be filled with rare items. And who are the people staring at me?
As I walked through the doorway, Marcus again placed his hand on the small of my back and guided me away from the prying eyes to a very familiar, battered desk. Its presence was enough to shake my focus from the pressure of his hand.
“That’s my desk from downstairs!” I exclaimed happily. Just seeing it made me feel oddly at home.
“Yes, well, I thought it might help you settle in. I’m afraid I’ve shaken up your world a bit.”
“Thank you, Marcus,” I said earnestly, grinning at him. For a moment, I forgot my new surroundings and lost myself in his amber eyes.
At the other end of the room, someone cleared a throat, and Marcus’s mouth thinned, transforming him from friendly colleague to annoyed businessman.
“Come, Lex, I’ll introduce you to the team,” he said, leading me across the room. Three notably attractive people watched our approach with differing expressions. I briefly wondered if, along with antiques, Marcus made it a habit of collecting beautiful people.
“This is Dominic l’Aragne, the excavation’s Project Manager,” Marcus said, indicating the man on the left. He was pale and trim, and he studied me with exceptionally dark eyes. His features were sharp, almost pointy, an effect made more severe by the way his dark brown, jaw-length hair was swept back.
“Hello, Ms. Larson,” Dominic said, a thick French accent making the simple greeting sound remarkably elegant.
“Hi,” I said, smiling shyly, and his severe expression softened a little.
“If you need anything, just let Dom know and he’ll make the arrangements. And this young lad is Josh Claymore, my research assistant,” Marcus told me, introducing the man on the right. He was blond and slightly burly, but he had an open, youthful face. His short hair stuck out haphazardly, making him appear slightly unkempt.
Nearly bouncing with excitement, Josh extended his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you! We’ve heard a lot about you.”
His enthusiasm surprised me. “Um … it’s nice to meet you too,” I said, shaking his hand.
The last of the three people, quite possibly the most breathtakingly gorgeous woman I’d ever seen, was glaring at Marcus.
Indicating her with a sweep of his hand, Marcus said, “And this is Neffe, my second-in-command.”
“Ms. Larson,” she said, meeting my eyes and pursing her full lips. The perfect, sultry features on her heart-shaped face hardened.
“Hello,” I said, more than a little intimidated.
Josh leaned forward and, loud enough for everyone to hear, whispered, “Don’t mind her, she’s always like that. Must’ve been how she was raised or something.”
To my complete shock, Dominic barked a raucous laugh. Neffe transferred her glare from me to Josh and Dominic, and I took the opportunity to send a questioning glance to Marcus.
He shrugged, his eyes opened wide in the most ridiculous imitation of innocence.
Backing away from the potentially insane group of people, I mumbled, “I think I’ll just get situated at my desk.” My retreat was complete within seconds.
Sitting down, I was grateful that my torturous wooden chair hadn’t been relocated along with my desk. Instead, I had a cushy new leather office chair. Better to encourage long nights of intense concentration and research, I supposed. I was surprised to find that everything on and in my desk was exactly as it had been in the graduate office, which meant it was a mess. A slight pang of sadness twanged in my chest at the realization that, with the abrupt change, I’d rarely see the few graduate students I’d befriended over the past two and a half years.
“I thought you might like to see this,” Marcus said softly as he set a flat, wooden box on top of the papers scattered on my desk. Through the glass top, I could see an impeccable, hieroglyph-covered stone tablet.
“Marcus,” I said without taking my eyes from the object in front of me. “Is this—”
“Yes.”
“But where’s the other one? You said there were two.” I was leaning closer to the glass, trying to get a better look at the box’s contents.
“It’s unrelated to our present work.”
I barely heard his words, entranced as I was by the slab of smooth, gray-green schist.
“Lex—”
“Can I open it?” I interrupted, eagerness evident in my voice. I looked up at him, pleading with my eyes.
Marcus grinned and nodded.
“Oh. Wow.” With the glass lid removed, the artifact was even more amazing. Shaped like a closed parabola, the dark stone tablet looked like it could have been carved only a few days earlier. Every inch was untouched by the usual rigors of time. “Where’d you say you found this?” I whispered.
“I didn’t,” Marcus said, avoiding the question.
I gently closed the glass lid and faced him. “Okay, he-who-can’t-answer-an-implied-question, then where did you find it? And when?”
Across the room, one of the other men coughed in a way that sounded suspiciously like an attempt to cover up a laugh.
The corner of Marcus’s mouth quirked, but I couldn’t tell if he was hiding a smile or a frown. “I can’t remember the exact date, but it was years ago. It was hidden in a secret compartment at the foot of Hatnofer’s coffin.”
“Hatnofer? As in, Senenmut’s mother?” I clarified.
Ever since I’d first learned about the many mysteries surrounding Hatchepsut and her relationship with her chief advisor and architect, Senenmut, years ago, I’d been enamored with the subject. Had they been lovers? Had Senenmut betrayed the female pharaoh, and had she banished him as a result? His body wasn’t in either of the tombs he’d carefully prepared for himself, so where was it? And what happened to Neferure, Hatchepsut’s daughter and Senenmut’s one-time pupil? As far as history was concerned, she simply disappeared as a young woman. My mind whirled with the possible implications of the tablet having been hidden with Senenmut’s mother’s mummy, especially because Senenmut had been the architect of Hatchepsut’s mortuary temple, Djeser-Djeseru, which apparently contained the hidden entrance to a secret, underground temple. It was just … wow.
“Marcus,” I said, my voice low and trembling. “If this was concealed in Hatnofer’s coffin, isn’t it logical to deduce that Senenmut put it there?”
“It is.”
“And if he put it there, then he probably made it?”
“One would think.”
My heart started beating faster. “Then, wouldn’t the next logical deduction be that this hidden temple, linked to Djeser-Djeseru, might actually be Senenmut’s elusive final resting place?” People—treasure hunters and archaeologists alike—had been searching for his body for centuries.
“Quite possible,” Marcus said in his infuriatingly calm way.
“How are you not exploding with excitement over this? This is unreal! We may end up solving one of the greatest historical mysteries ever!” My chest heaved with each breath as I tried to calm myself down.
Finally showing some emotion, Marcus smiled devilishly. “I assure you, Lex, I’m quite excited. I’m just … practiced … at keeping my excitement hidden.” From his deep, velvety tone, I had the distinct impression that we were talking about two entirely different things. “Would you like the translation?” he asked smoothly.
Translation? Of his innuendo? I was pretty sure I could guess what he meant by his ‘excitement.’ Briefly, my eyes flicked down to the front of his pants. “Uh … what?” I asked, totally befuddled.
Eyes sparkling like singed topaz, Marcus widened his smile. “Senenmut’s tablet. Shall I tell you what it says?”
Embarrassed at my reaction, I felt the need to prove my academic worth. Marcus had told me my youth and “o
ther attributes” might distract him from remembering my quick wit. It was time for a not-so-gentle reminder.
“Thank you, no. I prefer to translate it myself. Besides, you might’ve missed something,” I proclaimed. I smirked, wondering which of my “other attributes” distracted him the most. The thought that anything about me distracted him was exciting, causing a warm flutter low inside me, which I quickly quelled. He was probably just being charming. He probably makes a habit of flirting with every remotely attractive woman he crosses paths with. He probably had a dozen girlfriends, all models … and geniuses … and humanitarians … and—
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Marcus said. For a moment I thought I’d accidentally voiced my inappropriate analysis of him, but then I recalled what I’d said about him missing something in the translation. A challenge!
Before leaving me to my work, Marcus pointed to one of the nearby bookcases, which was filled with the various reference texts commonly used for translating Egyptian hieroglyphs. I politely informed him they wouldn’t be necessary.
The first thing I noticed in my examination of the tablet was that the infuriating combination of hieroglyphs I’d been struggling with was present … in several places. I wondered if the tablet was the subject of the photo Marcus had been studying in my first dream of him—the one that had been a “vision”—because the symbols had been there as well. I also wondered if I finally had the last puzzle piece I would need to decipher those infernal hieroglyphs.
As I stared through the glass for several hours, Senenmut’s tablet came to life. It revealed elements of his final years that, though previously unknown, didn’t shed much light on the historical mysteries surrounding him. I learned he’d spent nearly a decade on a secret building project at Deir el-Bahri—the location of Djeser-Djeseru—under the direction of Hatchepsut, and of all the ridiculous claims, Set, the Egyptian god of the desert and chaos.
The previously undecipherable combination of a lion’s head, a half-circle, a whole circle, and two vertical, parallel lines was included near both Set’s and Senenmut’s names, and I had a sudden epiphany. It had been speculated that the combination of symbols was adverbial, meaning “god’s time” or “eternal,” as in “eternal Senenmut” or “eternal Set.” But I started playing with the part of speech, finally settling on reading them as a title—god of time. Thinking back on the other texts I’d been analyzing that contained the hieroglyphs—including papyri, tablets, and reliefs—I realized that “god of time” was a viable alternate translation to “infinite” or “eternal.” After recording my findings in a spiral notebook and giving myself a very enthusiastic mental high five, I continued translating the tablet.
Indeed, as Marcus had claimed, one set of symbols suggested that the mysterious temple or tomb was physically connected to Djeser-Djeseru. According to the scribe, there was an even more secret portion of the hidden temple, containing the power of Nun—which was really odd. Nun was generally known as the god ancient Egyptians attributed with creation, specifically the creation of mankind. The ancient people had believed him to be the primordial waters, the chaos, from which everything had begun. Never had I heard of the ancients referencing any way to access his power … or even wanting to do so.
The tablet closed with two equally befuddling statements before the usual “So it ends, from start to finish, as found in writing.” I translated the preceding statements as “The power and domain of Hathor is life, the power and domain of Anubis is the afterlife. Under Hathor we are created, above Anubis we are changed by the power of creation.” I retranslated the symbols three times, looking for alternate meanings, then read through the translation again and again … and again. Abruptly, it clicked.
“No,” I whispered. “It can’t be that simple.”
From across the room, Josh called out jovially, “She’s talking to herself—she’s really one of us now!”
“Quiet, Josh,” Dominic told his colleague. “Let her do her work and pay more attention to your own.”
“Right, because reading through undergrad field school applications requires so much—”
“Quiet, Josh,” Marcus said softly, repeating Dominic’s words, and Josh fell silent.
Smiling like a fool, I stood and hurried over to Marcus. He sat comfortably at a desk set flush against the wall opposite mine.
Without looking away from his laptop, Marcus asked, “Can I help you with something, Lex?”
“Yes.” I mimicked his infuriatingly secretive tone.
“And what exactly would that be?”
“Oh, I just need a pen and a piece of paper.”
“Really, Lex, you have plenty of paper and writing instruments at your own desk,” he chided, finally turning his attention on me. His eyes widened at my barely contained exhilaration.
I held out my hand, and he supplied me with a ballpoint pen and a blank sheet of printer paper. I promptly set it on his desk and began sketching the floor plan of Djeser-Djeseru. It was a complex temple, with multiple levels, courtyards, chapels, colonnades, and shrines. “Why would Senenmut include that weird bit near the end about Hathor and Anubis and two stages of creation? There’s no reason, it’s complete nonsense,” I said as I worked.
“I’m aware,” Marcus replied dryly.
“Which means it’s not actually nonsense … it’s there for a reason. Earlier, Senenmut mentions that ‘the power of Nun’ is in the secret temple. For whatever reason, he’s saying that Nun’s power—creation—is hidden away, correct?”
“Yes.”
“He’s probably just using this reference as a key to guide us toward the correct location of the hidden entrance. Obviously Nun’s power isn’t really there.”
“Obviously,” Marcus mused, his eyes lighting with interest.
“If we think about creation being locked away in the temple, then Senenmut’s statements about Hathor and Anubis become relevant.”
Marcus leaned over the sketch I was just completing, labeling Hathor’s chapel on the left side of the rough floor plan and the two Anubis chapels on the right.
“It makes no sense for there to be two Anubis chapels—we all know that. But they’re there anyway. The upper chapel fell into disrepair because of its redundancy. It was purposeless … or so we thought. But on Senenmut’s tablet, he tells us that ‘above Anubis we will be changed by creation.’ The part about Hathor is junk, just meant to disguise the trail, but the bit about ‘above Anubis’ tells us to look in Anubis’s upper chapel … upper … above …” I pointed to the upper chapel on my map. “You see, in order to be ‘changed by creation,’ or by Nun’s power, we first must find it. And, to do that, we have to enter the secret temple. So—”
“The hidden entrance should be in the upper chapel to Anubis,” Marcus said, finishing my statement. “Dear gods … I can’t believe I missed this.” He tore his eyes from my drawing and gazed up at me wondrously.
I squirmed under his intensity. “It’s not that big of a deal. I only figured out the general area.”
“Don’t belittle yourself, Lex. If you knew how long … this is unbelievable.” He glanced down at the sketch of the temple again, and then back up at me. “You … unbelievable,” he whispered. His expression had altered minutely to one of reverence.
Overwhelmed, I took two steps back … and ran into a warm, firm body. I would’ve fallen to the side if strong hands hadn’t grasped my arms, keeping me upright.
“Careful, ma fille,” Dominic cautioned, stabilizing me.
“Thank you,” I whispered. I was surprised to discover that Dominic, Josh, and Neffe were standing shoulder-to-shoulder behind me. How long have they been standing there? I wondered.
“I’m sure you all heard … you’re so very talented at listening when you choose. The Djeser-Djeseru entrance would appear to be in the upper Anubis chapel.” Marcus shook his head slowly. “This, my friends, is a much-needed breakthrough. Congratulations, Lex.”
As he finished, my three new colleagues hud
dled around me, each murmuring a different exclamation or form of praise at the discovery.
“Thank you,” I said, my neck and cheeks flaming.
Needing a break from the Lex worship, I excused myself and spent the afternoon examining various other texts and artifacts strewn about the room. Each item was fascinating in its own right, from pressed scrolls I’d believed to have been lost, to heavy manuscripts darkened with age. The afternoon passed quickly, and soon I was bidding the team goodbye and heading home … alone.
I strolled along familiar paths, taking the long way home. I used the solitary time to think, to process everything that had happened in that elongated, top-floor room. Beyond that, I considered everything that had happened lately, and realized the past month had unquestionably been the most eventful of my twenty-four-year life … with a big, fat exclamation point.
As I neared my apartment building in the falling darkness, I checked my phone—one new voice mail. I quickly accessed my mailbox and was greeted by my grandma’s age-roughened voice.
“Hi sweetheart, it’s Grandma. I’m sorry to do this on such short notice, but there’s someone who needs to meet you. We’ll be stopping by this evening between six and seven. Traffic, you know … Anyway, you might consider making a little dinner. I think you’ll want to make a good first impression. See you tonight, honey!”
Wait, so does Grandma have a boyfriend? Utterly confused, I picked up the pace; it was five o’clock, and I had absolutely no idea what I was going to cook for dinner.
By the time I’d made it home and whipped up something presentable, if not memorable, from the ingredients my mom had left behind, I was bouncing with excitement. I’d convinced myself that Grandma Suse had been swept up into an adorable, old-person love affair and wanted me to meet her new sweetie.
Echo in Time: A Time Travel Romance (Echo Trilogy, #1) Page 13
