I Do Not Trust You: A Novel

by Laura J. Burns

  “Fine.” The girl pulled up a contact on her cell.

  “No!” he barked, all the stillness of reflection gone. “Stop. Fine. I’ll tell you.”

  With a satisfied smile, she put her phone down in her lap where he couldn’t reach it. “Who are you really?”

  “Everything I’ve told you is true,” he insisted. He simply hadn’t told her all of it. He couldn’t. Still, she was threatening to reveal his presence to her guardians. He had to give her something more.

  “You just announced that the person I love most in the world is alive and in danger. I’m not really in the mood to be patient,” she said, tapping her fingernails on the table.

  Ash felt jumpy, confused. This girl set him off-balance in a way he thought he’d outgrown. “I told you about the cult of Set,” he said slowly. He could tell her enough of the truth without revealing anything sacrosanct, but he must choose his words carefully.

  “They’re an actual cult?” she asked. “Not just a few crazies feeding off each other?”

  Ash shook his head. “The worshippers of Set are an ancient sect. They have remained true to their god for millennia.” Her eyes narrowed, skepticism on her face. “I’m using the word ‘cult’ in the scholarly way, to mean a group specifically devoted to one deity. Not the way it’s used now, to signify unhinged devotion to a nonsensical belief. You must set aside your preconceptions. What you consider mythology, other people considered religion. For thousands of years, ancient Egyptians believed in their gods much like you believe in your god.”

  She laughed right at him.

  Ash blinked, surprised. He hadn’t spoken to Dr. Engel much about his daughter. There hadn’t been time. That she knew martial arts, that she could read the note he sent, those were things Dr. Engel had found pertinent to mention. Ash was beginning to wish he’d asked for more information. He hadn’t expected a schoolgirl to be such a challenge.

  “It isn’t a joke,” he told her. “To the followers of Set—”

  “You’re the joke,” she cut him off. “Mansplaining religion to me. You know who my father is, yet you think I don’t know what the word ‘cult’ means? I learned about Egyptian mythology before I could talk. Other mythologies, too. My mother made sure I understood that it wasn’t just stories people told, but a way of life, a method for applying order to a chaotic world.”

  “Yes, well…” Ash wasn’t sure what to say.

  “The point is, any Set worshippers today would be cobbling together a religion based on a tiny percentage of what original acolytes would’ve known. We’ve unearthed plenty of ancient artifacts, but that doesn’t mean we have even a tenth of what existed. So, are they an actual cult with coherent beliefs, or are they just reading Wikipedia and making it up as they go?”

  Ash stared. He’d been expecting a bored teenager constantly taking selfies on her phone, someone who would simply hand over the map and believe whatever he told her. Perhaps his idea of American girls had been wrong.

  “They are the original cult of Set,” he said without thinking. “They have a greater knowledge of their god than any archeologist, because their beliefs have been handed down in secret. As have those of the cult of Horus.”

  Now it was Memphis’s turn to look surprised. “Horus?”

  “It is said that the battle between Set, god of discord and mischief, and Horus, god of kings, will continue until the end of time, when chaos will overrun harmony and the waters will swallow the earth,” Ash told her. “From our earliest recorded history, there have been worshippers of Set and worshippers of Horus. The cults of these two gods have spread throughout the world, and the cults are locked in an endless battle. The followers of Set have pledged to resurrect their god, and the followers of Horus have pledged to give their lives to stop Set from rising. They believe if Set becomes incarnate, destruction and death will follow.”

  Memphis let out a low whistle. “You’re one of them.”

  “Yes. I am a member of the Eye.”

  “The Eye of Horus,” she murmured. “The sign of protection and health.”

  “Right.” He had to stop being surprised and find his balance in this conversation. “The priests of my religion have a mission, passed down for thousands of years. We are to guard the pieces of the Set artifact. Whenever a piece is threatened—in any way—the Eye is to move all of the pieces to new hiding spots. We cannot let the pieces join. We must prevent Set from rising again.”

  Ash hadn’t been raised by Philip. He’d spent long enough on his own to realize how insane he sounded right now. He could speak freely of his god with the rest of the Eye, but out in the world it sounded … odd. But when the girl spoke again, it wasn’t about the lunacy of his beliefs.

  “And you want my father’s map. You think it’s a map to the pieces of the Set artifact.”

  “Yes.”

  “So this Eye group of yours hid the pieces … but you don’t know where they are?”

  Ash felt a wave of embarrassment as she fixed her critical gaze on him. He spoke of knowledge handed down for millennia, but more had been lost than kept. “We have forgotten many things,” he admitted.

  “Like where you put the most important statue ever?”

  “Yes,” he snapped. Memphis smiled, and Ash’s cheeks grew warm. “And also how to read the map that tells us where they are,” he added, rushing to get it over with.

  “Holy snakes!” she cried, laughing. “You can’t read the language of Horus?”

  “It’s not funny.”

  “No, it’s sad,” she chuckled. “It’s really sad.”

  “The tongue became mixed with the Coptic language during the Ptolemaic period, and eventually the symbols used by the priests were corrupted. There was a … divide … between the written language and the spoken one. By the time the Eye realized it, we’d lost the knowledge of our written tongue.” That was how Philip had explained it at least.

  Memphis was still grinning. “No need to be defensive.”

  Ash attempted to regain his stillness. “When we read your father’s article about the map, we hoped he might help us regain what we’d lost. But the cult of Set got to him first.”

  Instantly her smile vanished. She toyed with her necklace, blinking back tears. “So you were planning to ask for his help?” she said, clearing her throat.

  “More or less.” They had planned to ask his help, yes, but never to let him know what the locations meant.

  “But you really just want to find the pieces of the artifact, not relearn your old language,” she went on.

  “We want to find them so we can move them. Each time the pieces are moved, a new map is made,” he explained. “It is a great horror that the cult of Set has gotten their hands on a map. Our only defense now is that they can’t read it.”

  “And neither can you.” She studied him. “Did the Eye even know about this map? It was in a museum vault for a hundred years.”

  He shook his head.

  “You forgot your language, you forgot where the pieces were, and you even lost the map that would tell you.” She sounded appalled. “I’d say your cult isn’t doing the best job keeping up with your ancient mission.”

  Ash sighed. “All of these things are shrouded in history. We know of the cult of Set, and they know of us, but it’s been many generations since any of the knowledge was needed. Your father’s article took us by surprise.”

  “You want to prevent them from finding the pieces,” she said thoughtfully. “So all you need is to get rid of the one person who can translate it, or get rid of the map itself.”

  He froze.

  “You went to the cult of Set to find my father. You lied to them about being a grunt. So you could rescue him?” she guessed. “But that didn’t work, so you came up with a backup plan.”

  Ash desperately tried to think of a good story, but the girl was ahead of him.

  “A plan to get the original map from me to keep it away from the Set group. My dad’s map is missing vital informati
on, so it’s useless. But as long as you get my map, you can prevent the Set people from finding the pieces, right?”

  “Memphis—” he started.

  “But it’s also the same thing as murdering my father,” she interrupted. “Once he’s sent them to too many wrong places, they’ll realize his map is wrong. They’ll kill him.”

  Ash looked down at his coffee. He couldn’t bring himself to meet her gaze.

  “See, if you hadn’t told me they were dangerous, here’s where you could’ve tried to convince me they’d let my father go if he was useless to them,” she said.

  “You must understand what we are talking about here. If the pieces of the artifact are reunited—”

  “I don’t care about your religious nonsense,” she hissed, all pretense gone. “You’re here to steal my map.” The bo staff was in her hand again, though he wasn’t sure how it had gotten there.

  “If there was another way, I would take it,” he said, meaning it more than she could realize. “But I need you to give me the map.”

  “You’ll have to kill me first,” she said. “Oh, wait, that won’t help! You don’t know where the map is.”

  He gave her a hard look. “And you don’t know where your father is.”

  He saw a flicker of pain in her green eyes.

  “Refill?” The waitress appeared, oblivious, pouring coffee into their mugs without waiting for an answer. She pulled the bill from her pocket and slapped it between them. “Whenever you’re ready…”

  When she was gone, Memphis suddenly smiled, put down her staff, and picked up her coffee. “You didn’t know what was in the note my father sent. You didn’t read it?”

  “It looked like hieroglyphs, but most of it was nonsense,” Ash replied warily.

  “That means you never got a good look at the copy of the map he was working from, huh?” she asked. “You didn’t realize it was the same language.”

  He felt stunned, stupid. Their secret language …

  “Yup. I can read the map, too,” she said. “So I guess you’ll need to kill me after all. In addition to stealing my map, that is.”

  Focus on the stillness, let the god move through you. It didn’t work. This entire encounter had gone wrong from the very start. “I am not a murderer,” he whispered.

  “I’m glad to hear that. So, no hard feelings? Just because I know your ancient language and you don’t?” Her voice was still cheerful, but now there was a sharp undercurrent to it. “I’ll make you a deal. I will find whatever decryption key is on the original, and I’ll translate the locations correctly. Then you and I—together—will use it to find the pieces of the Set artifact. And when we have them all, I’ll give them to you.”

  Ash’s breath caught in his throat. To have the pieces, all of them together, was a tantalizing thought.

  “Just as soon as the Eye rescues my father,” she added.

  * * *

  “I’m going to bed!” M called the instant she got home. She headed straight for the stairs. The last thing she wanted was a conversation with Liza or Bob. She just might snap and attack them.

  “Memphis?” Liza appeared in the kitchen doorway. “I thought you said you’d be home late.”

  M looked at her blankly.

  “Wasn’t the party fun?” Concern flashed across Liza’s pretty face. “Did you have a fight with your friends?”

  The party, M thought, remembering it for the first time in hours. “No, I’m just tired,” she said. Bri is probably mad I bailed on her. It didn’t matter, though. She wouldn’t see Brianna again for a long time.

  “Why don’t you come have some popcorn with us?” Bob called from the living room. “We paused the movie.”

  M’s heart slammed against her ribcage. How could they pretend to be so normal, so infuriatingly boring and nice, when they’d been lying to her for almost a year? When they were holding her father captive?

  I could pin Liza before she even knew I was coming. If I had her in a vulnerable position, I could force Bob to make them release Dad.

  “Memphis?” Liza said again, searching M’s face. For the first time, M noticed the calculation in her foster mother’s eyes. When Bob appeared behind her, his hand was in the pocket of the giant Red Sox hoodie he always wore. Did he have a gun? Had she been a prisoner this whole time and never noticed?

  “What’s wrong?” Bob’s mouth smiled even as his eyes grew cold.

  “Have you ever thought you were really good at something and then realized you’re not?” she asked.

  Liza tittered in her usual insipid way, but now it sounded fake. “I thought I was a good cook until that day you made us Vietnamese food!”

  And I thought I was an expert at observing human behavior until I realized you were an evil fraud, M replied silently.

  “Is this about school?” Bob asked.

  “Yeah,” M lied. “I got a bad grade on a quiz today and it’s been bothering me. I couldn’t enjoy the party.”

  “Well, I’m sure you’ll do better next time,” Liza said. “Maybe if you study a little before bed, you’ll feel better.”

  “You’re right.” M forced a smile. She’d never gotten a bad grade in her life. “Good night.”

  “Night,” Bob called.

  “See you in the morning,” Liza added.

  No, you won’t. You will never see me again.

  Upstairs, she locked her bedroom door, propping a few barbells against it to make it extra hard to open. It was bizarre, feeling afraid of her guardians—she’d barely given them five minutes of thought before. But now that she knew she’d been living with the enemy this whole time, she felt as if they were watching her.

  After a minute, she heard voices in the living room, and her heartbeat slowed. M sat at her desk, finally doing what she’d wanted to do ever since Ash mentioned a decryption key: she unclasped her necklace, slid the small glass pendant off, and opened one end. With a pair of sanitized tweezers she gently removed the tiny, ancient scroll of parchment inside. Pulling her magnifier lamp down, M slowly unrolled it, scanning for anything she hadn’t spotted before—a glyph out of place, a mark she’d thought was a blot, anything. Maybe the lotus that bent the wrong way?

  But she had to admit, the map looked the same as it always had. What was she supposed to tell Ash? How could she claim she’d find the pieces of the Set artifact when she couldn’t find a key? Maybe Dad was wrong. Maybe there was another reason the cult hadn’t found any pieces at the locations he’d sent them to.

  “Maybe because the whole thing is absolutely insane,” she whispered. “And there are no pieces of an ancient magical statue hidden anywhere, and this is a wild goose chase.”

  She sat back and closed her eyes, letting the familiar sounds of her room surround her. The soft irregular clanking of the radiator. The ticking of her old-fashioned clock. The whirring of her laptop. It still smelled like home in here. Her quilt was the one Mom had bought in Jakarta. The photo on her bulletin board was one Dad had taken of M and her friends making faces at the junior class picnic last year, one of the only school events she’d made it to. She could picture the whole room without looking at it. It would have to be enough from now on. Home hadn’t really been home since Dad died, anyway.

  It was time to leave. When she had her father back, she’d be home.

  If there was a decryption key, she didn’t have time to find it tonight. She’d just have to keep bluffing for now. The important thing was to stay with Ash and con him into telling her where Dad was. If she figured out how to find a piece of the statue first, all the better. It would give her a bargaining chip.

  M opened her eyes and stood up. She turned off her laptop, sliding it into its carrying slot in her backpack, followed by her passport. A pair of jeans, three shirts, a couple of bras, some socks, underwear. Her bo staff. Everything she needed she had packed in less than thirty seconds. The scroll took longer, she had to be gentle. But soon enough it was returned to the safety of her glass pendant. She clasped it
around her neck and pulled on her jacket.

  Her room had casement windows that opened wide and silent, a bonus. She flicked off the light switch and parted her curtains, letting cold moonlight fill the dark bedroom. Bob and Liza weren’t so overbearing that they checked on her at night, so they wouldn’t realize she was gone until tomorrow.

  M hesitated. She turned back and grabbed the picture of her and her friends. Next to it was an old shot of her with Mike. She took that, too. Putting both photos carefully into the inside pocket of her jacket, she climbed up on the windowsill and swung onto the sycamore tree in the backyard. She used the end of the bo staff to gently push the windows closed, then climbed down. M vaulted the back wall into old Mr. Hannesy’s yard, then headed for the street. Ash was waiting at the corner like she’d told him.

  “We’re going to Italy,” she said. “You’re paying.”

  CHAPTER 4

  “So … Naples,” Ash said.

  “Mm-hmm.” Memphis was gazing out the plane window, ignoring him. She had said only the bare minimum since they had gotten in a cab near her house. She was infuriating. Her father had been friendly, always polite, even to his captors. Perhaps she took after her mother.

  “Why there?” he pressed.

  She gave a heavy sigh. “Uh, because it’s the closest airport to where we need to be?”

  Be still, be like still water. This was the attitude he’d been expecting originally. “Yes, I know,” he said patiently. “And where do we need to be?”

  The silence stretched out between them. Most people were uncomfortable with long pauses. They became restless, nervous, they needed to fill the quiet.

  Memphis was not one of those people, apparently.

  Eventually, Ash gave a sigh of his own. “If we are going to find the Set artifact, I will need to know where we are going. Keeping me in the dark isn’t an option.” Just saying the words sent a shock through him—find the Set artifact. Was such a thing possible?

  An image of Hugh came to him. They were sitting at the lunch table as children, Hugh whispering about the pieces of Set. The statue had been lost for centuries. Finding any of the pieces was nothing more than fantasy. But Hugh had been convinced it would happen, that he would somehow locate the pieces.