I Do Not Trust You

by Laura J. Burns

  “But the cult of Set found nothing,” Ash said. “Which means the piece was moved, and we’re looking for a signpost?”

  “Exactly. The Eye would have left one behind when they moved it,” M confirmed. “I’ve been assuming the signposts are in the exact spot that was vacated, though. So we still have to figure out exactly what the map referred to.”

  “You said it referred to this temple.”

  “Right. But there’s one part we haven’t figured out yet.” She frowned.

  “Well, now that you’ve finally confided in me, maybe I can help,” Ash said. He had to at least be as useful as her high school boyfriend. Unless the boyfriend was older? Was he an archeology student? Someone M had met through her father?

  “The five glyphs form a circle. Around the outside of the circle are four dots. The top dot is larger. I don’t know what the dots mean. Neither does Mike.” She grabbed a napkin and made a little sketch.

  He immediately pulled out his phone and Googled the temple, determined to prove he was as sharp as Mike, before groaning inwardly. That wasn’t important. Finding the signpost that would take them to the next piece was.

  “This might be something,” Ash said, partway through the third article he found about Thrissivaperoor Vadakkunnatha. M leaned close so she could read along. “There are four gates—gopuras—leading to the temple grounds. North, south, east, west. The dots on your sketch are evenly spaced around the circle. Maybe they each indicate a cardinal point of a compass.”

  “The biggest dot is the one on top. That could mean we’ll find the signpost in the north gopura!” She held up her hand. He felt a little silly, but he gave her a high five.

  “You’re looking pretty pleased with yourself,” M commented, smiling at him.

  “I solved that quite handily, you have to admit,” he said. “It’s a good thing you decided to trust me.”

  “It is,” she agreed. “We make a good team. You with your shady French connections and me with my knowledge of the secret language of Horus priests—which the Eye has forgotten. Oh, and my extensive knowledge of world, not just Egyptian, mythology.”

  “You forget that I also contribute money. Brat.” He felt a grin spreading across his face. Something had changed in Philae. He hadn’t thought it possible, but it felt as if he and M were on the same side.

  He tried to push away the knowledge that it was only temporary.

  CHAPTER 14

  M’s heart thudded in her chest, as if trying to join the hundreds of pounding drums. Her eyes were dazzled by colored floodlights, rows of flashing neon decorating the buildings around the train station, and the fireworks blazing across the sky, which had barely started to darken. The whole city of Kerala was having a celebration that was part religious ritual, part mega-party. It would have been thrilling, except it was going to make it nearly impossible to get to the temple.

  It hadn’t occurred to her they would arrive during the Pooram festival. It didn’t always fall on the same date, but it was always right around now, and she hadn’t given it a thought. Since she’d found out Dad was alive, ordinary things like knowing the date, eating meals, and sleeping every night had become inconsequential.

  “Which way?” Ash shouted.

  She shook her head. She didn’t know. She’d looked at a map, but felt dizzy and disoriented. It felt as if the masses of people on every side of her had already taken all the oxygen. She tried to pull in a deep breath. Someone knocked against her, and for a wild second she thought she was going down. When your brain is anxious, give it something to do.

  She bent her elbows for protection against the crowd and scanned the area in front of them. High above the people she saw brightly colored silken umbrellas decorated with tinsel, huge peacock fans, and what looked like massive white feather dusters. She had a vague memory of them from when she’d been to the festival with her parents as a little girl. Or at least she had a memory of her father telling her about the trip, and how they’d thought it might be too overwhelming for her, but instead she had loved every minute.

  “Come on!” She grabbed Ash’s hand so they wouldn’t get separated, and launched in the direction of the dusters, fans, and umbrellas. They would belong to men standing on top of a procession of elephants. The lead elephant would be carrying an idol from one of the city’s temples, traveling to be blessed by Lord Shiva at the Thrissivaperoor Vadakkunnathan, exactly where they needed to go. All they had to do was follow the procession.

  She moved several steps before being blocked by a solid wall of people—which would be fine if she was there to see the festival. But she needed the next signpost.

  M pressed her hands together, jamming them between the man and woman directly in front of her. Pushing her hands apart, she created an opening to wriggle through, trusting Ash to stick close. She had to keep shoving and stomping on feet to make any forward progress. She got some shoves back, but most people just kept on dancing, brought to a near frenzy by the stimulation of the drums and exploding fireworks.

  Finally, she and Ash were close enough to the elephant procession to feel the hot gusts of air generated by slow flaps from the animals’ enormous ears, close enough that she could see the details on the golden headdresses they wore, and hear the tinkling of their decorative bells. “We should circle around to the east gopura,” she shouted, unsure Ash would hear her. The elephants would enter the west gopura and come out the south. Most of the crowd would be waiting there.

  Once they were able to move past the south gate, it became easier to make progress. As soon as they could, M and Ash broke into a run. But M pulled up short when the east gopura came into sight.

  “What?” Ash asked.

  “Dress code,” M explained. “Most of the Indian temples have them. Look. All the men going in are wearing dhoti, and the women have saris. My father was able to tour the temple through contacts with other archeologists, but usually non-Hindus aren’t allowed in.”

  Another thing she’d forgotten. Would she ever get back to her normal, careful self? Maybe once she saw Dad alive with her own eyes. Still, she had to be better at thinking things through. “We’ll be okay if we blend. There are street vendors all over the place. Let’s find something.”

  They found what they needed between a stall heaped with raw dates, grapes, and oranges and one selling Nilgiri tea. M decided on a half sari, which she put on over her clothes, and also a dupatta to wear as a head covering. Ash bought a white dhoti and wrapped the length of cloth around his waist and legs, not bothering to remove his khakis.

  “You have to take off your shirt, though,” M told him. All the men going in had been bare-chested. He yanked off his tee and jammed it in his back pocket. M took a few seconds to study him, unable to keep from noticing his strong shoulders and chest, then nodded. Now he looked like most of the men around, especially with his black hair and dark skin completing the look. “Am I okay?”

  Ash gave her a longer look, letting his eyes wander over her body slowly. M punched him in the shoulder. “That wasn’t an invitation to leer at me. Do I look okay to go into the temple?”

  “I wasn’t leering. I was simply … evaluating.” The beginnings of a smile tugged at one side of his mouth. “Roll up your jeans a little, so they don’t show, and shove your hair further under the cloth,” he told her. “Then you’re good to go.” He bent and began rolling up the legs of his own pants.

  M quickly adjusted her clothing and made sure her backpack was zipped. The pieces of the Set animal, fused together in their torn leather pouch, were buried deep within her clothes. Still, it made her nervous to be in a crowd with them on her back. As long as I feel the throbbing, at least I know they haven’t been pickpocketed, she thought. Who knew there would be a silver lining to such a constant annoying sound?

  “Ready?” Ash asked.

  “Ready.”

  They hurried to the east gopura. There was a line to go through the gate, but it wasn’t long. Most people wouldn’t want to miss th
e Kudamattam. It would take place right outside the south gate. The exchanging of the umbrellas was one of the highlights of the festival and accompanied by a jazz-like concert played on traditional Kerala instruments.

  M forced herself not to fidget as she waited. She couldn’t go pushing and shoving through a line of people waiting to worship. “As soon as we enter, we find the north gate and see if we can get into the temple from the inside.”

  “Yes. The same plan we came up with on the plane,” Ash replied with a mix of exasperation and amusement. He stepped in front of her as the line moved forward. M’s breath caught in her throat. His back was crisscrossed with old scars, most flat, but a few raised and puckered. Was self-flagellation a part of Horus worship? Or were these older? Had his parents done this? Reluctantly she pushed it from her mind. She needed to focus.

  Soon they entered the gopura. It was called a gate, but looked nothing like one. Instead it was a tall building with multiple tiled roofs and ornate gables. Round globes of light had been strung around the eaves of each level, and the whole building was washed in a golden glow.

  The interior was several degrees cooler than the hot, humid air outside, and M finally felt like she could take a deep breath. They were close enough that she could see through the door on the other side. The first thing that struck her was the spaciousness. In the distance was the wall their research said surrounded the inner temple. It was lower than the massive one circling the grounds of the entire temple. To the left was a low brick building with a lot of short columns and a huge sloping roof made of copper squares that reflected the light of the fireworks.

  “The theater,” Ash said. “Where the gods and goddesses are supposed to dance.”

  In a different life, M would have explored every inch of this lovely place, but in this life there was no time. As soon as she stepped through the doorway, she began, “Now we need to find the—” She stopped, shocked. Something inside her backpack had moved. Shifted. It felt like there was something alive in there.

  “Keep going,” Ash said. “We’re blocking the exit.”

  M hadn’t even realized she’d stopped walking. She hurried out of the way, then pulled off her backpack and unzipped it. Had someone tried to pickpocket her? She knelt, frantically searching for the leather pouch. The throbbing had stopped. How was it possible? How could anyone have gotten to the pieces of Set without even unzipping her bag?

  But the pouch was still there. M tore it open, and gaped.

  “I … Look at this,” she said. She held up the little pouch so Ash could see. The Set animal remained inside. But the pieces were separate again. They’d both tried to pull them apart, and it had been impossible. There’d been no seams, no anything to indicate they’d ever been two pieces. And now—

  Ash reached forward, and she jerked the pouch away. “How did that happen?” M asked. She wanted an explanation that wasn’t magical, but knew there wasn’t going to be one.

  “I don’t know.” He stared at the pieces. “I don’t know,” he repeated. He sank slowly to the ground next to her, all the tension leaving his body. “Thank the god.”

  “Why?” She carefully retied the pouch, wrapping a loop of the tie around the hole to close it.

  “The pieces have come apart. They can come apart,” he said. “I feared that when they joined, it meant…”

  “Set was already doing his thing, moving toward incarnation?” she guessed.

  “I’ve been afraid to look for further pieces,” he said. “I cannot risk more of them joining. When you told me we wouldn’t find the next piece here, I knew we could come. But I also knew we could not go to the next location, not carrying the pieces we have. We could not risk adding a third piece to the whole.”

  M blew out a breath, frustrated. He hadn’t mentioned he felt that way. What had he planned to do before the next step? Take the Set pieces from her by force? She should’ve known better than to trust him, even if he had saved her life.

  “But now I’m not worried,” he went on. “Now I know the pieces can come apart. It is not the rejoining of the artifact. Not the permanent one, anyway.”

  “Right…” she said. Thinking about this would have to wait. “Well, good, let’s find the signpost.”

  She secured the pouch within her backpack and stood, glancing around. It was easy to see all four gopuras. They towered over the grounds at the four compass points. She led the way north, not pausing to look at shrines where others had stopped to pray.

  When they were close enough to see the details of the gate, M’s mind went into gear. The ground level was made of molded granite, just like the one in the east. There were narrow slits carved in it, but nothing a person could squeeze through. Maybe they could climb to one of the roofs, but she didn’t see any windows, only a few small square openings, which were much too small for her to climb through, forget about Ash.

  The top levels of the building were made of wood. They could smash a hole through, but she hated the idea of damaging an ancient building. “Any ideas for getting in?” she asked Ash. It was good to be able to talk without yelling. A concert was being played somewhere on this side of the massive wall, but it was softer and had a different rhythm from the music outside.

  “Door,” Ash said. “Maybe the lock will be easy to break. And that won’t be too hard for them to repair.”

  “Oh fine, pick the obvious route,” M snorted, but followed his lead. When he gave the door an experimental touch, it swung open easily. M was so surprised she let out a little gasp.

  Ash raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps Lord Shiva is blessing us too,” he said, stepping inside.

  He stopped so abruptly that M slammed into him. “Wh—”

  Ash turned and pressed one hand over her mouth, blocking the rest of the word. He jerked his chin toward the ground. It was dim inside the gopura, so it took her a moment to realize they were standing next to a body.

  Slowly Ash slid his hand away and knelt next to the man on the floor. A guard, she thought. Here to make sure no festivalgoers came through this gopura by accident. He pressed his fingers against the man’s neck. M’s hand nervously fiddled with her necklace while she waited. Ash stood after what felt like eons. “Alive,” he whispered, his lips brushing her ear. She shivered and was annoyed to realize it wasn’t because they found the unconscious man.

  M struggled to reach under her sari to remove her bo staff from where it was tucked into the waistband of her jeans. When she had it in her hand, she crept forward, this time Ash following her. When they were about halfway through the gopura, she hesitated. She heard voices ahead. She listened hard, trying to filter out the sounds of the concert and the exploding fireworks. At least two people were in here with her and Ash.

  Slowly she began moving forward again. They had to be the ones who knocked out the guard … but why? She took another step, all her attention on the voices. One male, one female.

  British accents.

  M’s heart ricocheted off her ribs.

  She spun around and pointed back to the doorway they’d come in. Ash followed her without question. They retraced their steps quickly and quietly.

  They needed to get away, fast. “Over there.” M gestured toward a circular structure and they ran to it, skirting a pond, and went inside. A few people were paying their respects in front of the idol of the goddess Parvati that dominated the room.

  M whispered so she wouldn’t interrupt their devotions. “Bob and Liza! My guardians. They were in the north gopura. But how? They can’t be tracking my cell. So how?”

  Ash didn’t answer. His body was rigid and his face was blank.

  “Did my dad send them? Maybe they don’t even know we’re here. What do you think?” When he didn’t respond right away, she gave his arm a little shake. “What do you think?” she asked more loudly. One of the worshippers glared at her.

  “The Set cult already checked here,” he whispered. “The only reason he’d have sent them back is if he’d found out about the signpo
sts, which he wouldn’t have been able to do without visiting the sites himself.”

  Ash’s words were reasonable, but he still had that blank look. It was as if something had terrified him and he was trying not to show it. He’d told her Bob and Liza were dangerous. Was that it? Were she and Ash in danger?

  “I know you said they were a threat,” she told Ash, squeezing his hand. “But, you know what, we are too. I can fight, and you have the Horus mojo. We can handle them.” It was pep talk bullshit, but only in part. She and Ash were a good team. Maybe they couldn’t take down the entire Set cult, but against Bob and Liza? They had a real shot.

  Ash gave a forced smile. “I was just trying to think things through. Your guardians were in the States while I was working for the cult. I’m sure they’ve been told I disappeared from the Set compound right around the time you took off, but they don’t know I made contact with your father. They have no reason to think you’re with me. I can distract them. That will give you a chance to find the signpost.”

  He turned and strode away without waiting for a response.

  * * *

  Ash didn’t look back. M was sharp, and good at reading people, good at reading him. He didn’t want her to see how shaken he was.

  Maybe she was wrong about the voices, he thought wildly. Maybe it isn’t them.

  But M knew their voices as well as he did.

  “Meet me back at the east gate!” she called after him.

  He raised his hand in acknowledgment. He had to focus on the task at hand: get them out of the north gopura so M could find the signpost. But how?

  I could just say “Hey, let’s get some tea and catch up,” he thought. As if he would need to do anything. As if they wouldn’t race after him the instant they saw his face.