Reawakened (The Reawakened Series)

by Colleen Houck

  “Ah, you are asking if it would be possible to see her?”

  Amon nodded and swallowed. He probably wasn’t even sure he wanted to know the answer.

  “The answer is that it depends on whom you ask,” Dr. Hassan replied. “Her final resting place should have been with her father, Thutmose I, but it is likely she was moved. Most Egyptologists believe that she was found in the tomb of her wet nurse, but I do not. The mummy discovered there is touted as being Hatshepsut, but I have found indications that her final resting place might be in another tomb altogether.”

  “What are these…indications?” Amon asked.

  “Well”—Dr. Hassan leaned forward—“I have discovered a signet ring, a shabti figurine bearing her name, and a senet game with carved pieces that have the head of a lioness. The most important piece is one I call the lioness throne—a golden seat with armrests carved in the likeness of a lioness. These were not discovered in the tomb of the wet nurse, Sitre-Re, but elsewhere in the Valley of the Kings. Still, more than these trinkets, I know that her funerary temple was dedicated to Amun-Ra. Though she outwardly worshipped other gods, her temple was a strong sign of her true belief, for at its head—the one I believe you entered through, though you won’t confirm that—is the most revered, and that was—”

  “The Royal Family Chapel,” Dr. Dagher interjected.

  “Yes. But that is not its whole name. Its full name, its once secret name, is the Amun and Royal Family Chapel.”

  Amon sat back. “So the chapel was shared. It was dedicated to the royal family—”

  “And Amun, the sun god.”

  As the Egyptologist continued to explain, I caught the rolling of his protégé’s eyes. Clearly, whatever beliefs Dr. Hassan held were not shared by the younger man.

  Osahar Hassan either didn’t notice Dr. Dagher’s expression or didn’t care, so fervent was he regarding his theories. “I’ve already shared with you my belief that Hatshepsut was the leader of the Order of the Sphinx, but what I didn’t tell you is that the order is an elite group of sun god worshippers that over the years split into two factions: the Order of the Sphinx, made up of females, and their male counterparts, the chief priests of Amun-Ra, led by a grand vizier.” The impassioned man folded his arms across his chest. “So surely you must see that if she was the head of the order, then that would make her a very dangerous enemy—”

  “To the cult of Seth,” Amon finished.

  “Yes. And it would explain why they attempted to wipe her very name from the pages of history.” Dr. Hassan sighed. “If Hatshepsut was the head of her order when she ruled Egypt, then it would make sense for her order to move her elsewhere after death so that she might continue to fulfill her duty even in the afterlife.”

  “And what was her duty?” Amon asked.

  Without blinking, the old Egyptologist said, “To be of service to the rising sun god. As head matriarch, Hatshepsut would have taught her order that the sun god would rise to fulfill a specific purpose and that he would require the help of one special woman who embraced the power of the sphinx. The placement of Hatshepsut’s belongings was always near glyphs depicting the sign of the sun, the sign of Amun-Ra.

  “It is my theory that she arranged her tomb to be in a special location, one that would guarantee that when the sun god rose, she would be the first to welcome him. I have spent my life studying the secret orders and the connection between Hatshepsut and Amun-Ra, and I believe they are more closely tied than we might imagine.”

  My feverish mind worked on the new information. So does that mean that Hatshepsut’s final resting place was near Amon’s original tomb? Or would that have been the tomb where we found his canopic jars? I hadn’t seen any antechambers, but I hadn’t been looking for any.

  Perhaps the pharaoh queen had found Amon’s tomb years ago, but then again, that would all depend on when she lived. I racked my brain, trying to remember the dates of various Egyptian pharaohs, but the best I could come up with was King Tut’s approximate reign, the early thirteen hundreds.

  I wasn’t sure if Hatshepsut came before or after King Tut, but either way, she was probably not even close to being alive when Amon had last risen. His prior awakening would have occurred at the turn of the century, around AD 1000, which meant that he had likely been interred here during her reign, so it was entirely possible she had been aware of his resting place.

  “Admittedly, there are not many who interpret the findings in the same way that I do, but then again, sometimes a new perspective can lead to exciting discoveries,” Dr. Hassan said. “Would you agree, Amun?”

  My heart froze. He pronounced Amon’s name perfectly. He knows! Somehow, Dr. Hassan knew about Amon! I recognized that it was probably my paranoia causing me to jump to conclusions, but the way my gut was twisting told me that something was very wrong. Even worse, the way Dr. Hassan was studying Amon made me think that he was trying to trap him into giving something away.

  “It’s Amon,” the risen incarnation of the sun god corrected.

  “My mistake,” the wily archaeologist apologized, with the kind of smile that said he wasn’t sorry at all.

  Again I wished that Amon could understand why being here was dangerous. Of course, he probably considered himself invincible. Why were men so supremely self-confident, to the point where they lost common sense?

  Amon played with my fingers. “That is an interesting theory.”

  “I believe it to be true. Hatshepsut was a beautiful woman. The Order of the Sphinx only accepted women of great beauty.”

  Dr. Hassan looked at me with a strange seeking expression, as if I could somehow corroborate his theory. The best I could do was give him a slight shrug and hope that he couldn’t read the panic in my eyes.

  He continued as if desperate to make us understand. “The mummy they discovered in the tomb of the wet nurse suffered from diabetes. She died of bone cancer, and had arthritis and bad teeth. That mummy is not Hatshepsut. I know it!” he cried fiercely.

  Dr. Dagher stepped forward. “You must calm yourself, Osahar. It does no good to get worked up over this. This theory has put you on the outs with the archaeology community. If you want to have your full rights restored, you must at least attempt to accept that their conclusions might be accurate.”

  Dr. Hassan took a deep breath and gave his mentee a fleeting smile. “Yes, thank you, Sebak.” He patted the young man’s hand and sighed. “What would I do without your support? Eh?”

  Sebak smiled. “I shudder to think what you would do without me.” As the younger scientist retreated into the background, I noticed that there was no warmth in his smile.

  “I am sorry to burden the two of you with my ideas,” Dr. Hassan murmured.

  “Without ideas, many discoveries would remain hidden,” Amon volunteered. “I, for one, believe there may be some truth to your theory.”

  Dr. Hassan’s melancholy expression suddenly lifted into a smile, and he nodded gratefully.

  “Thank you. A woman such as Hatshepsut would have a tomb worthy of her. She would have been buried with her beloved lionesses, would have had a treasure room full of jewelry, furniture, linens, flowers, books. I will continue to look for her.” He shrugged. “It is my life’s mission. She calls to me across the centuries, and I will not abandon my search.” Quiet fell over the tent as Dr. Hassan excused himself.

  I desperately wanted to talk to Amon now that we were alone, but my body betrayed me. I was able to move a bit and groan, but Amon pressed his hand to my shoulder and whispered, “I do not believe that this man means us harm.”

  I wanted to shout that a man desperate for answers might do anything to get them. At the very least I wanted to talk to Amon about his jars of death and what the crushing of them meant, but Amon leaned toward me, bringing his lips to my forehead.

  As with the cooling kiss he’d given me in the passageway, a kind of magic spread through my body when his lips came into contact with my skin. But instead of a chilling effect, my eyes a
nd limbs grew heavy once more, and the worries plaguing my mind seemed less important. Before I was lost to Amon’s sleeping touch, he said quietly, “Rest now. All will be right in the morning.”

  It felt like just a moment later when I woke to bright sunlight flashing across my eyelids. Slowly, I blinked my eyes open and noticed the tent opening flapping in the breeze, letting in a strip of sunlight that fell across my face, appearing and then disappearing.

  I smelled the crisp air of desert morning mingled with the scent of frying meat, and my mouth watered. Hunger gnawed at my belly, and as I struggled to sit up, testing each joint and muscle as I did so, I wondered if my digestive tract was up to the challenge of a mystery-meat breakfast.

  Amon, likely hearing my attempts to sit up, came in to help me. Leaning on his arm, I slowly made my way outside to the breakfast fire, where I accepted a heaping portion of what appeared to be Spam and eggs.

  When the food was consumed and Amon seemed assured of my improved health, he began making excuses for us to leave. Dr. Hassan immediately asked his mentee, “Sebak, would you mind letting the group we are meeting at the temple know that we have been slightly delayed this morning?”

  “Of course, Osahar.”

  Dr. Dagher headed over a dune and quickly disappeared. As Amon shouldered my bag and wrapped his arm around my waist to guide me away, I had the sneaking suspicion this would not end well.

  I had noticed that my bag was awfully close to Dr. Dagher when we were sitting by the fire and I wondered now if he’d gone through it. I considered how far we’d have to go before Amon could whisk us away by sandstorm, if he even had enough energy to whisk us away at all.

  I was lost in questions that I knew I’d have to wait to ask, so I mentally cataloged them, hoping I wouldn’t forget anything important. We said our goodbyes, and had begun making our way down the path toward the tourist booths when Dr. Hassan asked his own question, one that caused us to freeze in our tracks.

  “How many days has it been since you have risen, Great One?”

  Alarmed and frightened murmurs ran through the crowd after King Heru finished his speech. There were shouts that the three princes must be saved, while others raised their voices to say that the sons must be sacrificed. One of the queens sitting on a nearby throne screamed and fell to her knees. The other two clung to her, their sobs spreading to people in the crowd.

  The people strained forward against the line of soldiers. Waving their arms, they yelled to be heard over the din, but the three kings heard none of it. Full of sorrow, they stared at their wives and then turned to their sons, who were quietly conferring.

  As one, the three young men approached the dais where their fathers stood. Heru’s son addressed the crowd in a loud voice, “We three agree to be sacrificed to protect our homeland. With the blessing of our fathers, we will do what the formidable god Seth asks.” The people responded with stunned silence for only a few seconds before once again filling the air with questions, cries of protest, and tears.

  Heru spoke, putting his hand on his son’s shoulder. “I do not ask this of you. Indeed, I would rather die a thousand deaths than live through the death of one I love as much as you. No.” Heru turned to the crowd. “I ask you, my people, is it your will that we submit to these demands? Shall we allow the god Seth to strip us of our future?”

  Though there were a few frightened people who advocated sacrifice, it was obvious that the majority wanted to save the princes, however steep the cost.

  Heru addressed the crowd. “The people have spoken.” His wife approached, and he gripped her hand, brushing her tears away while insisting, “We will find another way.”

  As the queens made their way toward their sons and the families began to confer, the priest Runihura stepped from the curtain’s shadows and chanted in a low, menacing voice. Emerging from the curtain behind him was an impressive gathering of priests. Their eyes were black and they moved as one, heads turned toward Runihura. In their hands they clutched wicked daggers, which they raised as they advanced on the royal families.

  Women in the crowd screamed as Runihura waved his hands slowly, conjuring a cloud of black smoke around him. His countenance darkened, and angry clouds formed in the brilliant blue sky, covering the sun.

  “Fools!” Runihura bellowed with the sound of a thousand drums, leaving a frightening thrum in every heart. Lightning bolts struck the ground near him, and another face obscured the priest’s features. “My wrath will be poured out upon you! I offered you a chance to pay homage, but you have turned against me. Be it known that I will take the lives of your young men. You will suffer for the insult you have paid me!”

  Runihura thrust his fingers into his eyes and yanked the bloody orbs from their sockets. As the people watched, horrified, he squeezed each eyeball, then opened his hands, a puff of light rising from each palm. The light undulated in the air like a snake, and, with jaws gaping, one arc of light shot toward the son of Nassor, the other toward the son of Khalfani.

  The light pierced their foreheads, and the boys cried out as the dark magic lifted them into the air and threw them across the temple. As the kings raced to the sides of their sons, the son of Heru drew his sword and barreled toward the evil priest. The once peaceful and pristine temple became a chaotic mash of clashing swords, screams, and slick blood.

  Heru’s son raised his sword, but before he struck, he asked, “Why? We worshipped Seth. We did what was asked. Why have you done this?”

  Firestorms lit the empty eyes of the priest of Seth, who, with a crocodile smile, said simply, “Chaos. Egypt was once a wild, powerful nation, but I have captured it, domesticated it, and lulled it into complacency. For twenty years, I have tended it and spoiled it. And now I have led tame Egypt to the altar. It is time to throw the fat into the fire, a final sacrifice that will do in your once-great nation, utterly.”

  The son of Heru could stand to hear no more and plunged his sword into the traitor’s chest, but the dying man just clutched the sword and laughed as he collapsed to his knees.

  “Runihura was just a vessel,” the possessed man uttered. “True, he was a devoted disciple, but”—he paused and gestured to Heru’s son to come closer—“others will rise to take his place. Between you and me, young prince, the world as you know it will end. The three of you are the keys and one way or another you will submit and bow your heads beneath my heel.” Delighted at the prince’s horrified expression, a crazed Runihura began to laugh, but the sound quickly diminished as the man slumped weakly to the temple floor.

  Having finished off the other possessed priests, soldiers surrounded Heru’s son, who had gotten down on one knee to better hear Runihura. The prince grabbed the evil man’s tunic. “What do you mean? How are my brothers and I involved?” he demanded.

  Wheezing, Runihura answered, “You will find out for yourself soon enough, I should think.” The disciple of Seth touched bloody fingers to his forehead. “I have turned my eye of vengeance upon you,” he said in a rasping voice to King Heru, who had finally reached them. “Be warned that I demand the lives not only of your three royal children but of all the young men of Egypt.”

  The dying priest gathered his remaining strength and spat. Blood and saliva splattered across the king’s cheek, spraying his white robes with red.

  In a burst of anger, King Heru surged forward and plunged his own dagger in the neck of the priest, whose body finally slumped in death.

  Heru’s son let the body fall to the ground and was about to stand when he saw a gleaming light in the center of Runihura’s forehead, where a third eye would be. Before the king could react, the light shot toward his son like a snake and pierced his forehead. With a brief shriek of agony, he collapsed in his father’s arms.

  The evil priest was dead, defeated, the cost being the lives of the three young princes, a price more than their families could bear. But Heru was king, which meant he needed to set his suffering aside and try to figure out a way to help his people. Though Runihu
ra was dead, the king was not a fool. He would take the warning about the young men of Egypt seriously.

  Everyone, king and soldier, queen and handmaiden, scribe and farmer, dropped to their knees and prayed. They did not, however, pray to the one who had caused the destruction of the young princes. Instead, the queens encouraged the people to seek the aid of the gods they’d long abandoned. And at the dawn of the next day, their prayers were answered.

  Amon stood very still. I’d linked my arm with his and was now digging my fingers into his forearm, deathly afraid for the two of us now that we’d been found out.

  “You assume much…Grand Vizier,” Amon quietly replied.

  I sucked in a tremulous breath. I’d suspected there was more to Osahar Hassan than met the eye, and by the lack of response behind us, I knew that the pronouncement was right. Dr. Hassan had a much bigger role to play than that of simple archaeologist.

  Glancing up at Amon, I noticed the tightening of his jaw. He still hadn’t moved, and I wasn’t sure what to do.

  “Come, then,” Amon demanded.

  A desperate shuffling ensued, and a moment later the older man threw himself at Amon’s feet. The archaeologist lifted his head, his face filled with wonder.

  “I knew it!” Dr. Hassan called out, quickly dropping his gaze in a submissive gesture once again. “None of the others believed in the old stories. But I did not doubt. To have you rise in my generation is…it is a blessing beyond hoping for!”

  “Is your man Sebak in the order as well?”

  “He is, though he joined recently. He will be so happy; they will all be so thrilled!”

  “Have you shared your knowledge of my identity with him?”

  “No, Master. I did not want to say anything until I was sure.”

  Amon took Dr. Hassan’s hand and bid him to stand. “I wish for you to keep this a secret for the time being,” Amon said. “Can you do this?”

  “Yes, Great One.”