I smiled. Imagining grabbing her in one arm, I’d hoist her over my shoulder and run up that tunnel, my palm open in a violent stiff arm. The barrier would give way in an explosion of rock and dust. We’d both emerge like immortal action heroes—
“I can’t go on,” Maddie said, “even if there’s only a foot of dirt left. I wish I could’ve seen the Hall of Records, or finished the tale with you.”
“I wish we could have shared that, too.”
The grating of a shovel on rock carried down the shaft. I rolled over, but couldn’t see Mr. Scalone. Something sat beside the entrance. A water bottle, still holding over a quarter of its height in liquid!
Anger and desire flooded my body with conflicting tremors as I crawled desperately toward the container.
The walls of the tomb trembled, followed by a boom.
“What was that?” Maddie asked, her voice hoarse. She wouldn’t have seen the canteen.
“I had hoped someone was digging us out, but now I think it’s thunder.” Yes, it was fall, the time of year the desert could actually receive rain. We’d been caught in a downpour a few days ago, just before entering this tomb. Maybe some rain would work its way through our tunnel and we could all drink! Not much water remained in his bottle.
Snagging the container, I threw back a swallow. Cool wet washed over my shriveled tongue and throat, like a stream across a cracked field. Hacking, I nudged Maddie and handed her the rest. She gulped it down.
Dragging myself up the shaft, rage from being lied to rose like heat up my neck and face. I would confront the arrogant bastard and unleash all the emotion I had left.
Lying on his stomach, Mr. Scalone barely fit within the circular confines. The beam of his flashlight reflected off of the enclosure walls. A trickle of something dark formed along the edge of the ascending tunnel. The stain grew larger and glistened.
I reached for his ankle.
Dirt spewed forth with a massive roar. Raging water, mud, and rock engulfed us. The deafening torrent lifted me from the floor and swept me away like a stick. Fighting to keep my head up, I gasped for air. It whisked me toward the shaft of the well. Everything gave way beneath me. Toppling into the pitch black, the liquid rolled and twisted like an underground waterslide. My body spiraled, the gauntlet battering me at mind-numbing speeds. But the churning water also acted as a cushion.
Landing with a splat, I swallowed dirty liquid. A bellowing waterfall continued to gush into the chamber with a vicious current. The swirling of a flashlight intermittently illuminated a small room. Terror compressed my chest, making it even harder to breath. A river must be rushing in, the funneling of rain and silt from the mountainside into a low spot. The simple reason why the tomb was buried and remained hidden for so long.
Fighting to gain my footing amidst the pandemonium, the waterfall pummeled my weakened body. My knees anchored into the mud as the water rose to my waist. “Maddie!” I yelled amidst the tempest. A muffled screaming carried over the roar. The cry came from above.
The current swept my knees out from under me and I slipped into the wet. Bracing against a wall, I scrambled to my feet. Water climbed over my chin in a matter of seconds. A ray of light burst out overhead, like a beacon of hope after days in hell. Energy came in a spurt of optimism, shooting through my body. I treaded the surging rapids, which lifted me back into the shaft of the well chamber. Rising higher and higher, I clawed through the dwindling stream along the incline of loose mud and dirt. I hoisted myself back onto the stairway and coughed up a mouthful of water.
Kneeling beside the far wall, Maddie had anchored herself with her axe by wedging its head into a large crack in the floor. She’d clung onto our bags beyond the edge of the torrent, now a creek rolling down each step to the tomb below.
Pointing to the faint daylight streaming through our shaft, I couldn’t say a word or even smile. I shuffled on my hands and knees through the mud and dwindling water. Squeezing into the tunnel, the last couple of feet had been smashed through by the flood. I broke out into the light. My chest heaved for oxygen as my limbs sunk into the mud. I crumpled into a shallow pool expanding across a small plateau on the mountain.
A scream rang out and echoed through the valley. Maddie crawled on all fours beyond the edge of the pond, coughing. White water spewed down a small gulley in the mountainside before crashing and spraying sloppy mud in all directions. Wobbling to the water’s edge, I turned onto my back and gazed into the sky. An expansive curtain of dark clouds rumbled overhead as rain splattered my face. Maddie fell flat onto her stomach beside me. Cradling her head in her arms, she sobbed.
Relief washed through my body, relaxing every muscle. Did my exhausted mind invent this escape because it refused to come to grips with reality? Maybe my body still lay inside the tomb, slipping off into the realm of the dead—
The cool sprinkle of precipitation on my shriveled lips created a euphoria that started in my core and swept outward. Opening my mouth to catch the falling droplets, I burst into laughter.
Resting in the mud for several hours, we slurped on dirty pond water. Maddie’s sopped hair was caked with mud, the same as her face, chest, and pants. Reaching a small hand up to her head, she touched a mound of sludge entwined in her dark brown locks. She grimaced while attempting to tease out a large chunk. I chuckled.
A gray fedora floated by, like a duck. Lunging, I retrieved the hat as well as Maddie’s glasses, which had partially sunk into the silt. Water soaked most of our belongings, and our phones had died long ago. The books in our bags appeared intact, though damp. Easing the transcription papers out of my bag, I nestled them inside a travel book for protection.
Mr. Scalone rested on a nearby rock, his head in his meaty hands. I even felt sorry for him, sorry for this entire debacle. But we needed to get out of here.
I gazed down across the empty valley. Rain and flooding must’ve driven away the tourists and workers.
“Let’s get back to the river, and then to Cairo,” Mr. Scalone said, his voice like a frog’s. “Then we can decide what to do.”
I’d fly home and go back to school.
With Mr. Scalone in the lead, we avoided the main paths to the Valley of the Kings in case whoever trapped us remained in the area. The rain dwindled from torrential flash flood volumes and then ceased. My mind remained in a dark tunnel until we arrived at the Nile and entered a small terminal. After purchasing water by the case, we located a departure schedule. Thankfully, turmoil within Egypt had drastically dropped the number of tourists, which allowed for more flexible spur-of-the-moment traveling.
“Let’s split up,” Mr. Scalone said. “If someone’s watching the area, they’d be looking for three people. I’ll take a flight. You two take the train.”
My jaw tensed with suspicion. But maybe he was right. Maddie and I waited for the night train, but our filth didn’t help us blend in.
“Looks like you two got caught out in the rain,” a robust tourist with a full beard chuckled, his belly bouncing as we strolled by.
Maddie flashed him a beaming, irritated smile.
Spotting a quiet area in the corner, we devoured plates of lumpy beans and lukewarm falafel. Rank garlic wafted through my sinuses as the sun set, emitting an orange light.
My stomach cramped. A new fear emerged, my Crohn’s disease. Not being able to prepare my own limited-ingredient meals could be disastrous. The intestinal affliction sporadically invoked excruciating pain and vomiting, and could force me into the hospital for a few hours to a few weeks, depending on if surgery was needed. My old man’s damn immune system. But I had it much worse. Eventually, but hopefully not for a few more decades, I’d end up withered and weak, confined to a chair like my dad.
I took a smaller bite.
Journal Translation
THE MAGICAL BLADE SUNK INTO my wound. Jumping with surprise and blinding pain, my vision flashed white and my ears rang. But they held me down. I screamed as the knife grated against bone, the smell of burnin
g flesh stinging my nostrils. The scraping sensation rattled through my head as thick, yellow pus erupted—
My eyes fluttered. Nefertiti sat beside me under dim light, staring at the ground. “What happened?” I asked, not having the strength to sit up.
“You’re alive!” She settled a hand on my head. Sweat dripped from my brow, but I felt colder than when I’d spent the night out in the desert. “They said the disease festered under your skin, in your bones. The magician, the doctor, and the priest were all there. They released the poison, but it’d already spread …” She sniffed, but a tear rolled down to the tip of her demure nose. “They said you probably won’t make it through the night—”
I gasped in horror.
Squeezing my arms, she said, “But if you do wake tomorrow, you should live. Hold on, Horemheb. Hold on to me if nothing else.” She sobbed, laying her face on my chest.
Nefertiti’s raw emotions granted me strength and a profound purpose. “I will make it,” I said confidently, as Mahu had taught me. “I’ll do it for you.”
Staring deep into my eyes, she said, “There’re priests helping, but you need rest.”
“Where’s Akhenaten?” I asked.
“Settling business here in Thebes.” Her freshly painted green eyelids closed. “But his affairs will conclude in a couple weeks, and when he’s finished he won’t wait for you. Either you’ll be healthy enough to travel or you’ll be left behind.”
My jaw dropped as I attempted to rise.
“But we’ll come back to Thebes soon, we always do.” She forced a thin smile. “And I’ll find you … or I’ll find you in the next life.”
Tremoring, my head fell back down. The thought of losing Nefertiti twisted my heart like the gnarled trunk of an olive tree. But she stroked my damp hair and kissed my cheek. My heart raced with excitement. Desperately wanting to kiss her back, I attempted to sit up. But she held me down. Relaxing, I fell into a sleep teeming with dreams of love and desire.
Billowing clouds raced across the endless sky, sunlight flooding between the shapes of animals and men. A tree sparkled under the heavenly light. The tamarisk tree. Father. A pink petal released its hold on a branch and drifted to the earth. Another and another followed, floating on the wind. The branches grew bare …
The light of the Aten drifted through a small window. I was alone. Forcing myself to a sitting position on a pile of reeds, my limbs trembled under my meager weight. A glistening substance was smeared over the wound on my elevated leg. The puncture had contracted and the red lines had vanished, along with much of the swelling. Days must have passed. I touched the shiny layer around the injury, my fingers sticking to it. Pulling away, I rubbed the gritty spread and smelled. An earthy sweet tang combined with memories of Akhenaten’s breakfasts. I tasted and confirmed it was honey. My stomach released a low growl.
A small piece of bread sat on a plate beside me, a jug of water nearby. I swallowed the ration whole and guzzled water. Something wasn’t right. Nausea rolled through my body and I heaved the contents back onto the floor, the first of my symptoms.
“Small amounts,” a shaven man in fine fabric said, entering. “You’ve barely held down enough water over the past week to ward off death. Your stomach must expand slowly.”
Wiping stinging vomit from my lips, I spit more out of the back of my throat. Chunks landed beside a small figure on the floor. The visage of a stout dwarf with a mane and beard like a lion stared back at me. Fashioned of strange material, the statuette glistened a deep blue.
“What’s that?” I asked, retching.
“That is Bes,” he said, his naked eyebrows narrowing as if surprised I didn’t know. My silence dragged on. “He is your protector, warding off evil of all kinds. Helped save your life, he did. Take him when you go; you never know when you may need him again.” The man held out a dangling necklace, the spinning face of the lion-dwarf emblazoned upon dried mud. Gratefully accepting the token, I slid it over my head.
I’d survived the night, but another week passed before I could eat whole meals and limp about my room. The blue dwarf still watched over me. My body had turned gaunt, more so than ever. I wanted to grow strong in order to protect Nefertiti, but the struggle turned into a never-ending battle. Could I ever become the man she desired? I slumped down.
Shaking my head, I forced the dark thoughts out. This allowed curiosity to seep in. I was in Thebes, and prior eavesdropping had educated me. The city of Thebes was the largest in the world, and the only city I knew of besides Memphis. Thebes had always been the capital of Upper Egypt, where the royal family spent most of their time. Uprisings crept up within the city, but Thebans loved Pharaoh and built him a monumental temple and palace. Pharaoh often ruled as one of them, but court duties to keep the lands united had sent him to northern Memphis.
Taking a deep breath, I wished to witness the grandeur of hundred-gated Thebes—
Shouts of frightened men rang outside, startling me. Standing on shaky feet, my lower leg throbbed as blood rushed downward. I hobbled out, and after stumbling through an open courtyard I entered a magnificent temple. Pillars of stone surrounded me, supporting a solid roof. Firelight danced at the margins of the darkness, a scream piercing the inner shadows.
My vision adjusted as I crept toward the commotion.
Akhenaten held something above the man in the leopard skin, who’d been present during my treatment. Three of our soldiers also pinned him to a stone slab. Several other men, who I assumed were priests, given their clean-shaven heads, unsuccessfully attempted to negotiate or yank the guards off. Shrieks erupted beneath the yellow, spotted hood.
Suty flung a priest aside, the man sailing through the air before smacking into a wall. The monster’s scimitar cut down another, and his spear pierced the chest of a third.
“Bring him out into the light of the Aten,” Akhenaten said. “The people wait.”
The hooded priest kicked and screamed as the soldiers dragged him out. A flash of light landed upon the aged priest’s eyes. Terror celebrated in their depths, and ignited my own. What were they going to do?
“Akhenaten!” I said in a pathetic voice. “This is one of the men who saved my life!”
My master followed behind the soldiers and shook his head. “You would not understand, my servant.” Grabbing my hand, he squeezed as if to console me. “You could be replaced in seconds. This man committed crimes against Pharaoh, Egypt, and God.” He shoved me aside.
In my weakened state I fell onto my back, the procession continuing out into the courtyard. Clamoring to my hands and knees, I crawled after them. The Aten’s rays beat down upon the sand, burning my knees. I grimaced in pain, but continued on.
More people than I’d ever seen in this world gathered in the distance, creating a rumble out of mere whispers. Frightened expressions ran across their faces. The soldiers stopped, holding the priest down. Would they tear off his cloak and strip him of his title, or bury him in the sand?
“This will create greater conflict,” Mahu whispered to Akhenaten. “Please consider a more subtle approach.”
“People of Thebes!” Akhenaten roared. “Your high priest has plotted to usurp power from Pharaoh Amenhotep III, the god-king who calls Thebes home. I am Akhenaten, his son, the son of the Aten! I have come to ensure the rule of Upper Egypt is never questioned. Such treachery must be punished!”
He revealed an object hidden beneath his kilt, a knife with a gold handle fashioned into the shape of a crocodile’s head. Out of its shinning jaws erupted a blade of bone, the actual mandible of one of the great beasts. A multitude of teeth formed one serrated edge, the other curved to a sharpened point.
“The Devouring Blade of the Aten!” Akhenaten yelled, holding the long knife over his head. “A weapon of such power no one can feel its bite and survive, just as nothing can oppose God. This blade drinks the spirit of its victim like the Devouring Monster consuming a heart. A soul will be lost forever. Do not let this be your fate, people of Thebes!�
�
Chanting in a strange tongue, Akhenaten drew symbols in the air with the blade. Then he plunged the knife into the high priest’s stomach, just below his ribs. The man screamed, writhing about. His cries reached out to the heavens, but his head arched backwards. I gasped in horror.
Akhenaten sawed flesh with the serrated crocodile teeth and shoved a hand inside the gaping wound. Reaching up toward the man’s chest, he ripped aside inner organs as his arm buried up to the elbow. His grasp settled, but when he yanked nothing budged. Plunging the knife in through the wound, he twisted vigorously and cut. He withdrew his hand and thrust it overhead. Within his blood-drenched palm sat the high priest’s beating heart.
Journal Translation
THE ORGAN PUMPED SEVERAL TIMES and shrieks erupted from the crowd. Its beating slowed and then ceased, dark liquid rolling in streams over my master’s forearm. The high priest’s body writhed on the ground and shriveled, as if the blade drank the very liquid inside its tissues.
“I wield the consuming power of the Devouring Monster!” Akhenaten said. Plunging his teeth into the heart, he ripped off a large piece of flesh as blood spurted across his cheeks. The vilest of demons in my nightmares didn’t compare to the sight. I gagged with disgust.
Basking in the Thebans’ captivation, Akhenaten breathed in their fear. After chewing the moist tissue, he swallowed. Blood flowed out of the gaping hole in the organ before spilling over his hand, running down to the tip of his elbow, and dripping into the sand. Closing his makeup-covered eyelids created the illusion of solid black orbs.
The crowd wailed. Clenching my teeth, I suppressed the vomit rising in my throat.
“The traitorous high priest’s soul is no more!” Akhenaten said, dark spittle flying beyond red teeth. “It is as if he never even existed.”
Eve of the Pharaoh: Historical Adventure and Mystery Page 10
