Echo Prophecy

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  Upon reaching the perimeter that had functioned as my prison wall in Set’s fabricated echo of the camp, I hesitated.

  “Lex? What’s wrong?” Concern coated Marcus’s deeply melodic voice.

  “It … it’s just that …” Taking a deep breath, I raised my foot and crossed the invisible line, breaking down another of the barriers Set had constructed in my mind. “It’s nothing.”

  Marcus’s eyes tightened with worry, but he didn’t speak. He knew Set well enough that he could probably deduce the causes of any odd behavior I displayed after being held captive.

  “I’m fine,” I said, comforted by his concern. I tugged him along, and we continued the half-mile trek across superheated sand toward Djeser-Djeseru.

  After a few minutes, I said, “Marcus?”

  He glanced at me quizzically.

  “Why don’t I feel worse? I mean, why don’t I feel like I’ve been comatose for three months?”

  “Didn’t anyone explain At-qed to you?”

  I shrugged. “Only briefly.”

  Sighing, Marcus said, “At-qed decreases the body’s metabolic rate to a near stop. All functions—cardiovascular, respiratory, digestive—slow drastically. You don’t require food or water for many months, maybe even years. You were in the At for months, but your heart beat about as many times as it normally would in a couple of hours.”

  “Huh,” I said, thinking it was just another unbelievable item to add to the list of insanity that had become my life.

  As we stepped over a short, crumbling limestone wall and into the lower terrace of the temple complex, I took a deep breath, slowly releasing it with contentment. I’d yet to actually enter Hatchepsut’s mortuary temple, and the thrill of approaching such a majestic structure rushed through me in waves. Blessedly empty of tourists, the temple, with its three levels of columned porticoes and terraces, looked like a giant, prize-winning sandcastle … or an enormous, beige wedding cake.

  “You know, it’s always going to be crazy to me that you were Hatchepsut’s consort. I mean, she was a pharaoh … one of the most famous … and you had a kid together …” I glanced at him, wondering if she’d given him more than one child. I can never do that.

  He squeezed my hand. “It was a long, long time ago. She was an interesting woman. She grew quite obese during the second half of her life, or so I heard. I was already gone by then …”

  “It must’ve killed you to leave,” I said, recalling Neffe’s story of how Set had forced Marcus to leave his family.

  Marcus smiled bitterly. “It was painful. I was very attached to Neffe … she was a firecracker of a young girl, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

  “But not Hatchepsut? You weren’t really attached to her?”

  “Our arrangement was more political than romantic.”

  I chewed on my lower lip for a moment. “Well, at least you’ve had many, many, many years to make up for lost time with Neffe.”

  “True.” The single word sounded hollow, and I knew Marcus’s mind had traveled to times long past. How many years would it take for the familiar structures of my life to devolve into ruins and be hidden by time’s relentless efforts? How would I deal with my contemporary time becoming the distant, ancient past, as Marcus’s already had?

  I bumped Marcus’s shoulder with my own. “So … you never did tell me how you guys found the hidden entrance.”

  Marcus laughed, and the genuine amusement it contained made me smile. “I wish you’d seen it. It was … unintentional. Dom, Alex, and Neffe were arguing in the sanctuary of the upper Anubis chapel. Dom said something about your capture being Neffe’s fault, and she shoved him—into a three-thousand-five-hundred-year-old wall. Its decoration crumpled to the ground, revealing a solid limestone doorway.”

  “So was there a secret latch to open it, or something?”

  Marcus looked at me askance. “I thought you were a professional—a real archaeologist.”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  “It would seem you’ve watched too many movies,” he teased dryly.

  “Well, how’d you get the huge slab of stone out, then?”

  “Very carefully, Little Ivanov.”

  “Okay …” I said, equally irritated and amused by his useless evasion. “I wonder why Set didn’t just tell us how to get into the temple. I mean, he wants me to open the chest and get the ankh-At for him, right?”

  Shaking his head, Marcus said, “After the Council chose me as their leader over him, Set changed … his mind no longer works like yours or mine. His logic is impossible to understand. Why did he choose to hide the ankh-At here, in the heart of our homeland? Why not far away? Why did he change his mind from wanting to prevent the prophecy—prevent your birth—to actively working toward it?” Shaking his head, Marcus said, “So why didn’t he draw us a map leading to the temple entrance? Maybe he wanted it to be just you and him, not to have other Nejerets surrounding you—Nejerets who would help you defy him.”

  Pursing my lips, I pondered his words, rolling them around in my head. I was certain of one thing: Set’s unpredictability made him a whole lot scarier. I shivered.

  As we walked up the centralized ramp leading to the temple’s third level, I could see a handful of people mingling among the square columns and the few remaining statues of Hatchepsut. Neffe, Dominic, and Alexander were among them, along with at least a dozen more Nejerets. I was moderately surprised to find Kat standing beside Dominic, bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet.

  The mortuary temple’s expansive, sand-colored portico reminded me of the wide front porch on a southern plantation home. Or it would have, if any plantation home had ever been built entirely out of limestone in a dusty desert with lumpy tan cliffs jutting up behind it. It was a bit of a stretch, but I’d always had an active imagination.

  I was eager to greet my friends, especially my youthful grandpa. But I was equally as uncomfortable, fully aware that they knew I’d been back for well over an hour and had spent most of that time in Marcus’s tent. The fate of the world was hanging in the balance, but we had to take a sex break while everyone else waited for us. No really, we had to.

  Leaning in close, Marcus whispered, “Dom will have told them what you’ve been through and about the bonding—they’ll understand.”

  I looked at him sharply. “What? Are you a mind reader now?” The confirmation that they knew what we’d been doing only amped up my chagrin.

  Inches from my ear, Marcus chuckled, sending shocks of remembered pleasure dancing along my skin. “Hardly. You were just being exceptionally expressive.”

  “Oh.” I could feel my cheeks growing hot. Damn, being bound to him made the most benign interactions feel like foreplay.

  Softly, Marcus pressed his lips against my cheek, feeling cool against my flushed skin. “Alex might throttle me if I don’t hand you over within the next five seconds …”

  Letting go of Marcus’s hand, I approached Alexander. He stood beside one of the seven remaining, mostly intact statues of Hatchepsut still decorating the fronts of the columns, looking equally as regal, though the statue was easily twice his height. He wore a solemn expression as I neared, and closed the distance between us in two large strides. His arms enfolded me in a sturdy, comforting hug.

  “Dear granddaughter, I’m so sorry for what Set has done to you. Ivan and the rest of the Council have sworn to forsake the swift release of death in his case. He will suffer for a very, very long time.”

  While part of my mind danced a merry jig at the thought of Set suffering an eternity of torture, I wondered if it would ever come to pass. Likely as not, the rest of us would end up being the victims of a hell inflicted by my father. And it all depended on me. Oh joy. I really hated him.

  “Thanks, Alexander,” I said, giving my grandpa a final squeeze. “I really appreciate the … er … sentiment.”

  After we broke apart, I received greetings and hugs from the others, including a promise from Kat to “kick that phony god’s pre
tty ass” if he ever stepped out of line. She hadn’t been talking about Set.

  “Can we show her now?” Neffe asked, breaking through the good-humored reunion.

  When Marcus nodded, Neffe reached for me and clasped her hand around my wrist, tugging me out of the cluster of Nejerets. Setting a quicker pace than I’d expected with her shorter legs, she dragged me through the blocky entryway to the upper courtyard and immediately turned right, following a tall, limestone wall. Multiple rows of polygonal columns were arranged evenly near the perimeter of the rectangular courtyard, broken off at various heights. Some still held vestiges of their ancient decorations, haphazard chunks emblazoned with faded amber hieroglyphs and depictions of the ancient gods.

  Freeing my wrist from Neffe’s sharp-nailed grasp, I stopped with a slight stumble. “Thanks, Neffe, but I can walk on my own.”

  “Sorry,” she said, shooting a wary look over my shoulder. I knew what she was watching, or rather, who; I could feel Marcus’s proximity even before his arm slipped around my waist. “I’m just a little excited.”

  “A little?” Dominic said, sneering as he passed her.

  Neffe jogged for a few steps to reclaim her position as guide, and we followed. “You see, Lex, for weeks we haven’t been able to make any progress because we needed you,” she called over her shoulder. “We’ve explored every part of the temple and have found the chest containing the ankh-At—it’s pretty hard to miss, really—but, like Nuin’s prophecy says, ‘No person except for the Meswett shall be able to access the ankh-At.’ You’re the only Meswett there is, and with you here, we’ll finally be able to open the chest and get to the ankh-At. I just can’t believe it’s all finally happening!” she exclaimed excitedly. I guess she’s not worried that I’ll cave in, obey Set, and destroy the world …

  She led us through a small doorway leading into an open-air chamber. In its center stood what had once been a sun altar, a large square platform of decaying limestone. In singles and pairs, we followed Neffe diagonally across the debris-strewn ground to an even smaller opening in the opposite wall. My heart sped in anticipation of finally being able to enter Senenmut’s secret temple. Begrudgingly, I admitted it was equally Set’s secret temple.

  Our clustered train of Nejerets narrowed to a single-file line so we could all pass through the slim doorway into the enclosed sanctuary of the upper Anubis Chapel. Vibrant colors covered the walls of the long room as well as its smaller annex, which was accessible by a petite doorway near the back left corner of the sanctuary. The sight of them sent a thrill through me. Seeing them in the modern time, thousands of years after they were first created, was totally different than seeing their pristine perfection in the At. For me, the beauty and magic of being an archaeologist was in uncovering what was hidden, in being the first to see or touch something in thousands of years.

  Dominic stood aside at the end of the sanctuary, allowing me to enter the annex directly behind Neffe. A piece of my archaeologist soul shattered when I saw the long wall on the right—its decoration completely destroyed. However, the cavernous rectangle of glowing light in the center of the ruined wall more than made up for it. It was the entrance into the hidden temple.

  “Archaeology is a destructive process,” my Archy 101 professor’s voice echoed in my head. I could almost see him standing on the raised dais, explaining that the world’s beloved Pompeii would be completely destroyed the next time Mt. Vesuvius erupted, all because we’d uncovered it, exposing it to the world. But it’s worth it, right?

  While we waited for Neffe to unlock an iron gate blocking the previously hidden opening, I looked behind me at Marcus. One glance at the Nejerets packed into the sanctuary behind him and unexpected claustrophobia bloomed inside me. Even with the clear ropes of LED lights strung along the ground and only three of us actually standing in the annex, I was feeling suddenly, uncomfortably trapped.

  Picking up on my distress, Marcus ordered, “Everyone back to camp but Dom, Alex, and Neffe.” As they shuffled out, he added, “I want guards on the chapel entrance.”

  Seconds later, Marcus’s eyes fell on Kat’s slender, tan figure—she was still standing in the sanctuary. “Why are you still here, girl?”

  “Because Dom promised I could come with you guys, man.” She sounded every bit the sullen teen, but a diamond-hard vein ran through her words. She’s got backbone, that’s for sure.

  “Dom should be careful of what he promises.” Marcus’s jaw was clenched, and he was staring straight at Dominic. “But, if he’s up to babysitting”—he turned back to Kat—“accompany us, by all means.”

  I rolled my eyes, exasperated that he’d entered his bossy, former-god state of mind. “Cut it out, Marcus—this is neither the time nor the place for a pissing contest.” Given half the chance in his current state of mind, he would argue the most unimportant matters to the ground.

  I flinched at seeing the cold look he turned on me, watching as its iciness thawed, and with narrowed eyes, heated to inappropriate levels. “This isn’t the time or place for that, either!” I hissed, feeling exceptionally uncomfortable about the four sets of eyes watching us.

  “The … um … gate’s unlocked. So … shall we enter?” Neffe asked tentatively.

  “Yes,” I breathed, utterly thankful for her interruption. “Please.”

  Where ground met wall on either side, more LED ropes lined the passageway, illuminating everything surprisingly well. The persistent white light seemed eerily out of place within the rough-hewn corridor. There were chisel marks covering the walls, running from the ceiling down to the floor like streaming water. Passing through the entrance behind Neffe, I could easily touch both walls and the ceiling without extending my arms completely. My heartbeat sped up with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety as we burrowed further into Deir el-Bahri’s limestone cliffs.

  “This is totally better than air conditioning,” Kat whispered. The temperature was dropping noticeably—an immense relief. The sound of her soft words bounced off the walls until they faded out of existence. Somebody, likely Dominic, shushed her.

  Reaching behind me, I found Marcus’s hand and gave it a quick squeeze, hoping he would hold his tongue. Neither patience nor tolerance was among the skills he’d honed during his long life.

  After several minutes of moving at our slow pace, we reached a point in the passageway where it abruptly branched into four separate corridors. Two were perpendicular to the main passageway while two more evenly split the way going forward, creating a crisp corner straight ahead.

  “This is odd,” I said quietly as Neffe stopped at the intersection. She turned around and nodded sedately, clasping her hands in front of her.

  Without further direction, I wandered down the passageway on my left, running my fingers along the walls as I went. The chisel marks were different there, running horizontally instead of vertically. I estimated the offshoot to be half as long as the main corridor—maybe fifty meters—and was intrigued to find that my arms were far more outstretched when I neared the end than they had been at the beginning. In the light from the LED ropes, I could see that a niche was cut into the wall at the end of the passage, twice as tall as it was wide. Reaching out, I traced the two-foot-tall ankh carved into the limestone at its center. My fingers started at the bottom, followed the straight stem of the symbol up until it split into an upside-down teardrop, worked their way around the curve, and ended by tracing the perpendicular line crossing the symbol at its midpoint.

  “Life,” I whispered. It was beautiful in its simplicity, both in shape and meaning.

  Looking behind me, I was surprised to find that Marcus hadn’t followed. Instead, he was locked in a hushed, extremely intense conversation with his daughter … in Middle Egyptian. I headed back up the passage, rejoining the fiercely whispering pair. They cut their words short as I neared them.

  “Something wrong?” I asked quietly.

  Neither Neffe nor Marcus said anything, and I figured Marcus was trying to hide s
omething from me—again. Frustrated, I brushed past them, heading down the nearest corridor—one of the middle passageways. The limestone walls of the faintly curving passage had been polished completely smooth, making them seem impossibly modern. With the pale, artificial light from the LED ropes, I easily could have been in an elegant hotel or a contemporary monument.

  When I paused and looked over my shoulder, I found that I was far enough down the corridor for its curvature to hide me from the five-way intersection. Footsteps, quick and determined, preceded Marcus as he came into view. Upon seeing him, I turned and continued down the passageway.

  Sooner than I’d expected, he clamped his fingers around my upper arm, stopping me mid-step. “What exactly is the problem, Lex?”

  “That you’re hurting my arm,” I told him. In the unnerving white light, his golden features appeared pale … gray. I must have looked ghostly.

  Face blank, Marcus watched me. He didn’t loosen his grip. He didn’t glower. He just stared, passive.

  I looked down at the floor, noticing it was just as smooth as the walls. “You’re hiding something from me. Last time you did that, you left. And before that, I had to discover what I am on my own. So, what is it?” I asked, my voice small. I raised my eyes to his.

  Finally, he released my arm. “Whether or not you should be allowed to open the chest today. Neffe thinks you should. I don’t.”

  “Why not?”

  He sighed, and reached out a hand to brush the backs of his fingers across my cheek. “I just got you back … and we don’t know what opening the chest will do.”

  “I see,” I said, frowning. “But you don’t have a problem with me seeing it, do you?”

  Shaking his head, Marcus took hold of my hand and pulled me back into motion. His mood instantly shifted to that of a little boy approaching the shimmering, present-strewn tree on Christmas morning. He led me down the passageway, the curve growing increasingly severe the further we walked. My mental blueprints of the temple were developing into an exciting, familiar shape.

  “Does this corridor meet up with the other?” I asked eagerly.