Eve of the Pharaoh: Historical Adventure and Mystery

by R. M. Schultz

  “We need to get her to a magician or doctor,” I said. “I’ll take her.”

  “No!” Nefertiti said, pulling my kilt. “If you’re caught, some will suspect you were murdering people. The river’s near. Go wash her eye out. I’ll be at the palace waiting with help.”

  I nodded in agreement.

  Nefertiti kissed her sister’s cheek, staining it green with dripping makeup. “The Nile’s that way.” She pointed and darted off through the driving rain. It may’ve been my imagination, but a darkness hovered out from an alleyway and trailed her.

  Voices of alarm sounded. Assisting Mutnedjmet, we ran into the night. Frightened residents appeared under wavering lamplight, staring at the hovel and Croc, who licked his belly at the doorway. Mutnedjmet’s breathing came rapidly.

  “How is it?” I asked, guiding us through the darkness.

  “It burns,” she said, a hand clamped over her left eye. “Cobra poison can cause blindness. But at least you stopped it from going into both of my eyes—”

  Pulling her to the edge of the placid Nile, the repetitive patter of ripples washed over the dock. Moonlight glinted on the glass-like surface as stars twinkled in the surrounding depths.

  Scooping up cool liquid, I forced her hands from her eye and splashed the water onto her face. She shrieked and cringed.

  “Try to open it,” I said.

  She forced her eye open with her fingers, but winced and cried out. Her eyelid had grown swollen, the white horridly bloodshot. Like Father’s!

  Cupping my hands, I splashed more water over the area. “It’d probably work better if you dunked your head under and blinked,” I said.

  “You’ll protect me from crocodiles?” she asked.

  I nodded, trusting there wouldn’t be any inside the city. But I formed the magical ward with my hand, as Mahu had taught me. Bubbles erupted before she plunged her face into the river. My eyes narrowed with skepticism. Magic? Yanking her head out, she gasped and repeated.

  “Any better?” I asked.

  “It doesn’t hurt quite as bad,” she said.

  “I’ll find someone to help you,” I said. Memories of the doctor and magician, and how they each said not to trust the other filled my mind.

  “You’ll go to your room,” Mutnedjmet said, folding her arms across her chest. She bent over in pain. “Nefertiti and I will find the magician … if he’s still alive. He’s the gifted one. The wisest man to ever live. Imhotep reincarnated—the genius architect of the pyramids. He always knows what to do.”

  “But we may not be able to trust him,” I said, attempting to get her to move.

  She shook my hands off. “I need a minute.”

  Mutnedjmet’s soaked hair glinted in the moonlight. Droplets of crystal liquid released their hold on her locks, lips, and nose, falling in slow motion.

  Feelings of love and desire stirred, ignited by her soft beauty. Why did I feel this way for Nefertiti’s little sister?

  Her gaze fell to the ground.

  Too late, my eyes must’ve revealed my attraction—

  “Sorry about your father,” she said, taking my hand and letting me assist her to her feet. “It all makes sense now. His wounds, I mean.”

  Scenarios of what Father must’ve gone through before his death returned. The spitting cobra, the magical silence from biting his own tongue, the scorpions … I clenched my jaw to ease my fury as we paced back through the slums. Would Nefertiti believe us now? She hated Akhenaten more than anyone but didn’t trust Mutnedjmet—

  A man in tattered clothing emerged from the dark street, staggering in our direction. Blurry gray eyes focused beyond cascading rain. I clutched my bracelet.

  “You!” the drunkard said through a toothless mouth.

  My heart raced as we sprinted away.

  “You’re the one that’s not supposed to be here! But he said you would come!” Long, dirty fingernails scratched at the air.

  Bolting down the next side street, I glanced back. Nothing.

  “Who was that?” Mutnedjmet asked, her left eye clamped shut and swollen like a blistering tomato.

  I shrugged as we exchanged worried expressions. We ran on.

  As we reached the palace walls, I was overcome by my insignificance and failure at unmasking the cloaked man. Hope crumbled like the houses in the slums. “I’m too weak to stop him!” I said, punching my thighs in absolute frustration. “I’m just a servant, a nobody!”

  Mutnedjmet looked at me as if I were the madman running in circles giggling like a little girl. “You’ve done more than anyone.”

  My forehead tensed with confusion. What did she want from me, excitement? Bitterness boiled inside me, heating my neck and face. Or did she want me to give up now, to fail? I wanted to yell at her, to yell at everyone for all the horrid events of my life.

  Her good eye darted back and forth over my face. Something glistened behind it, something I hadn’t noticed before. I marveled at the fiery emotions raging within her own soul and forced a couple deep breaths. “What can we do?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure, Horemheb,” she said. “So far you’ve led us well. Think on it.”

  A sense of accomplishment and pride filled my chest. My anger abated like hunger at a feast. My animosity had rendered me unable to think, to speak, and unable to control my thoughts and emotions. I prayed they would not get the better of me before I rescued Father’s soul.

  Assisting Mutnedjmet over the wall, I felt horrible for her suffering. But Nefertiti awaited us and took her sister’s hand, heading toward the main entrance.

  Sprinting to my room, I leapt up and peeked through the window. Something within reeked with suspicion. Something was out of place.

  Present Day

  I DREAMT OF FRIENDS I’D never met, and of a city whose white walls towered over the countryside.

  A scream jolted me into awareness. Maddie burst into my room. Actually it was her room, since we’d traded places last night. Springing up in bed, I clutched the covers to me. I’d left my clothes behind last night. Embarrassment over our most recent interaction ignited my cheeks like red-hot coals.

  “Relax, I’m not here to check you out,” she said, her high-pitched tone piquing my interest. She was already dressed in black yoga pants and a blue top. “I found something in Dr. Shelsher’s letter referencing time.” Her eyes vibrated behind her shear glasses.

  “Time’s important when you’re looking so far into the past—”

  She hushed me with a finger to my lips. “I was holding the professor’s timepiece when I read the sentence about tracking modern time.”

  “You mean the mummified student’s timepiece,” I corrected her.

  She shook her head. “This is Dr. Shelsher’s. His initials are engraved in it.”

  Kaylin appeared in pink sleepwear, followed by her brother. “Bro, why’s Maddie screamin’?” Aiden asked, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

  Maddie motioned for them to come in. Great, now they can all see me trying to hide my pale body.

  Aiden’s little fox leapt onto my bed, and I grunted in surprise. Already spoiled. Good for him. He probably needed to make up for lost time—

  “Look,” Maddie said, holding out a piece of silver and a magnifying glass. “There’re inscriptions inside.”

  Twisting my neck, Egyptian hieroglyphs appeared etched into the opened backside of the timepiece. Their minute size forced me to focus. A bird—no, a swallow—referencing stars in the Old Kingdom or the dead in the New Kingdom. A man with a finger to his mouth. To be quiet? No, that was what they used to think. This signified a child, and the boy parts were included. A circle within a circle lay nearby, but vertical lines were placed between the images. The biggest obstacle in interpreting hieroglyphs was the style of the writer. The images could be read in accordance with the ancient sounds they evoked or with their symbolic representations, and this could change drastically, depending on what symbols were grouped together—

  “What da they say?
” Aiden yelled, his eyes bugging out of his head.

  Kaylin leaned over to see through the magnifying glass. Mr. Scalone and Jenkins appeared in the doorway.

  I stroked the fox’s soft head, trying to concentrate. “I discovered the way—”

  “I found the path,” Maddie said. “His letter mentioned a map drawn by the ancients who hid the Hall of Records! They left a trail for others who were worthy, or for when the kingdom needed guidance in times of grave crises.”

  “The path begins with the Son of Sety I,” I said, guessing the meaning of the remaining images. A rush of excitement made my head feel light. So a clue wasn’t hidden in Amenhotep’s tomb, but with the student.

  “The Rameseum!” Kaylin shouted, clapping.

  My forehead knotted in confusion. She must’ve been reading about ancient Egypt over the past week.

  “I don’t think so,” Maddie said, her shiny hair bouncing as she paced the room. “Rameses II was the son of Sety I, but he built and usurped more monuments than any pharaoh of ancient Egypt. Even if he doesn’t have an enormous pyramid, there’re nearly a hundred shrines and monuments to choose from. The Rameseum seems too obvious for something to have been hidden from archaeologists for centuries.”

  “The Rameseum’s the most famous of all Rameses the Great’s monuments,” I said.

  Wrinkling her nose, Maddie shook her head. “It’s not that I just don’t want to go back to Luxor …”

  I scrutinized the remainder of the tiny hieroglyphs. “You’ve translated everything?”

  “Yes,” Maddie said. “The rest says, ‘From the boy’s discovery … bring the sunlight.’ I think it might have to do with Rameses being appointed as the prince regent at fourteen and becoming pharaoh as a teenager. I’ll have to do a search of the temples that were constructed when he was younger. The sun’s everywhere in ancient Egypt, so I’m not sure that helps.”

  “What about Tut?” Aiden asked. “The dude was the boy-king.”

  Something tucked away in my memory unlocked. Tut, a boy, Rameses, Sety I, Rameses II, the longest line of pharaohs shared the name Rameses.

  “You’re right, Aiden,” Maddie said, “but he came before any Rameses and was disgraced by the early Egyptians.”

  Utilizing the flat bill of his cap, the manufacturer sticker still in place, Aiden scratched his head in confusion.

  “The discovery of his nearly intact tomb made him famous,” Maddie said, “but he didn’t rule for very long. And the reason his tomb was never discovered or raided earlier was because the Egyptians erased him from their records. So years later no one knew where to look for his loot. Funny now, because trying to erase him made him the most famous pharaoh of our time.”

  “Why’d they erase the little dude?” The teen’s lips gaped open, as if personally insulted.

  “It’s a long story filled with mystery, death, and scandal,” Maddie said. “And it all started with a pharaoh named Akhenaten …”

  Touching the cold metal bracelet on my arm, the servant boy from the journal’s story popped into my mind. An outcast of society, like me with the university. He had his father’s bracelet, too. And the mysterious death of his father sent him on an adventure, following a trail of evidence. A dark thought settled in, one I’d buried and locked up, one I’d not even told my closest friends. The boy’s father could’ve lost his ba with the burning of his body. But what about my dad? I told everyone he died of complications from his gastrointestinal disease, which was mostly true, but the final dowsing of his flame came from his own hand. Current religions said such an act would send someone to hell. If I found the Hall, could I save his soul?

  But so many temples were linked to Rameses II. Which one had to do with a boy? And what about the sunlight the clue mentioned … A boy had discovered a temple that displays a light and shadow spectacle twice a year.

  “Aswan!” I said. “You can give a history lesson on King Tut later. This has nothing to do with him.” Leaping out of bed, I covered myself but stopped before the toned and tattooed tour guide. I didn’t like him, but maybe he could get things moving. “Get us to Aswan.”

  Staring me down, Mr. Scalone folded his thick arms. “We could already be there if you weren’t keeping things from me.”

  Kaylin smacked him on the shoulder and smirked. “Make the arrangements!”

  The bad boy walked with a swagger back to his room. Darting into mine, I dressed in khakis and a blue button-down shirt.

  “I know you like to leave people in suspense, but you need to tell me now!” Maddie said from the doorway, daggers not veiled behind those thin lenses. “I told you about the timepiece as soon as … well, as soon as I was certain it was real.”

  I smiled, unable to control my excitement. “Legend says a local boy discovered one of the most famous temples of Rameses II. He saw it when shifting winds scattered the sand and revealed millennia-old statues. The explorers later credited with the find were led there by the boy, whose name was—”

  “Abu Simbel,” Maddie said, nodding and brushing her hair back. “Now the name of the temple.”

  “It’s much farther away than many of Rameses’ other temples,” Kaylin said, entering. “Cairo’s close to ancient Memphis. We should stop by some of his ruins there on the way south, and look for images of a boy in the sun.”

  “We don’t have time,” I said.

  “Because of the thugs who trapped you?” Aiden asked, picking up his pet.

  “No,” I said. “We don’t have time because of the solar phenomenon inside the temple.”

  “The light!” Maddie gasped, covering her gaping mouth.

  I nodded. “What’s the date?”

  Jenkins pulled back the sleeve of his suit jacket, revealing a silver watch on his thick, dark wrist. “October 20th.”

  “Oh my god!” I said. “I think it’s the 21st when the temple receives the light.”

  “And February 21st,” Maddie said. “The mighty king’s birthday and his coronation day. The only two days his statues see the sunlight all year.” Pausing, she took a long breath and swallowed. “Maybe we should wait four months and come back, when it’s safe.”

  “How could ancient people without technology make a stone temple work like that?” Aiden asked, his red eyebrows peaking onto his pale forehead. “You know, with the sun going up and down the same everyday?”

  Lifting my hands, I shrugged. The notion was hard to believe, like the building of the pyramids themselves. So often the real truth is too fantastic to be believed.

  Mr. Scalone emerged from his room, running a hand through his gelled locks. “Booked us a flight to Aswan. We should make Abu Simbel tonight or early domani.”

  “Let’s go!” Kaylin said, running out. Mr. Scalone studied her tiny pink shorts from behind. Aiden caught the man gawking and made a vomit sound while sticking his tongue out.

  We’d better not miss tomorrow morning’s sunlight.

  Maddie’s smile disappeared, her hands trembling. “I can’t go back there.” After standing quietly for a moment, she turned to Mr. Scalone. “Get me a flight home.”

  Journal Translation

  SOMETHING FELT ODD. Peering through the dripping sill into my room, I couldn’t locate what created the feeling. Deathly still.

  Would I be thrown back into the cave and end up a madman? My mind darkened, memories choking in a fog of desperation and rage. Fear chilled my bones. I could never go back to that place.

  After climbing inside, I smoothed out the reeds of my bed. Something struck me hard from behind. Flying into the wall, I smacked my head and slumped to the ground.

  Akhenaten’s dark eyes glinted in the pink morning light. My throat and chest constricted so hard I feared my heart would stop beating. “Where were you?” he demanded, towering over me. Gold jewelry and armor encrusted his skin, like a god’s.

  “I …” I swallowed.

  “Do not lie!” His face contorted like a beast’s. “Someone suggested I check your room. All I
found was piled bedding!”

  “I went outside,” I said, struggling for breath. “I’ve been trapped for too long.”

  “You have placed the palace, Memphis, and all of Egypt at risk.”

  “I can’t spread what I don’t have,” I said.

  “The doctor will confirm or deny that. But someone else wishes to speak to you first. And he may not be as kind as I am.”

  My stomach knotted with anxiety.

  His head whipped up to inspect the window, suspicion dripping from grimacing lips. “You would need dexterity to go out that way, which is not a skill of the servant. Did you have assistance?”

  “Only desire,” I said. “I was suffocating with thoughts of my father. Please tell me his ba can be saved—”

  “Where did you go?”

  “Not far, it was raining,” I said. “Only for a walk, to get fresh air.”

  His eyes narrowed as if he detected the lie, his dark lids growing like hoods of a cloak.

  My hands perspired with worry. Did he see me following the robed figure last night? Or was the figure him? I attempted to stand.

  Kicking out with a clubby foot, my master stomped me to the ground. A crushing force drained the air from my lungs. I coughed and wheezed.

  “If the doctor does not order your immediate execution, you will be put back into service. But this time someone will always be watching. You will be more prepared and efficient in your chores. And if the gaunt servant with the red eye shadow outperforms you, or if you cause the slightest annoyance, you will be dealt with indefinitely.” After lifting his foot from my chest, he exited.

  I gasped as air reentered my hypoxic body, burning my lungs. Was Akhenaten keeping me alive to torture me, or so I could serve him in the next life?

  Soldiers were now stationed at the door and outside my window. If only I could bury myself under the floor and hide. Or perhaps I should kill myself and get it over with.

  Croc landed beside me with a soft thud. Sauntering over, he rubbed against my leg and I stroked his cheeks. His soft fur calmed my shaking hands. Sniffing the air, he paused as if he knew something was coming.