The Memory Painter: A Novel Page 27

  He decided it was time to ask the question. “Once you are Guardian, can you not change the law?”

  She rested her head on his chest. He could feel her tears. “I took an oath to uphold all the laws of the temple. I can never break them.”

  Thoth held her, and after a while he said, “Then we will wait as long as we can.”

  The wait was not as long as they had hoped. By the next month, Hermese’s body had transformed, and her belly had begun to show such that even the heaviest robes could not hide it.

  One day, she came back to her quarters, weeping. Thoth did not need to be told what had happened.

  “I’m sorry. My father’s sister forced me to announce.”

  Thoth did not know Hermese’s family, only that her father had a younger sister and brother who lived elsewhere in the temple with their own children. He heard himself ask, “So our time together is over?”

  She nodded and whispered, “The guards are coming.”

  Her words seized his heart. His time here had ended, without warning, without mercy. He clenched his hands into fists. “They cannot just make me leave. They should give us one night, at least! Sirius returns tomorrow.”

  “It is the law. We must obey.”

  “You find it so easy to see me go?”

  She cried out at his words. He felt ashamed and rushed to kneel beside her. “Forgive me.”

  She took his hands and put them on her stomach. “Horus is God of the Horizon. I will meet you there.”

  Thoth did not have time to question what she meant. Thutmose and his guards had already entered the room.

  Thutmose’s face was solemn as he said, “Son of Ramses, your stay in the temple is over. May the Gods bless your child and reward this sacrifice.”

  Thoth turned away from his compassionate gaze, not wanting the old warrior to see his sorrow.

  He embraced Hermese for the last time and whispered, “If ever you need me, I will break every law to come to you. I know the tunnels by heart.”

  She whispered back, “I did not show you the scrolls for my own benefit. That is for your father to explain.”

  This was the first time she had mentioned his father. Thoth wanted to know more, but the guards were already sending him out. He heard the doors to Hermese’s quarters close behind him. It was done.

  The forced march through the temple seemed endless. During the day, it always struck him how unkempt and old the fortress looked. Thoth wondered how many people even lived here. He had already discovered that the Atum guards, though they appeared formidable with Thutmose as their leader, barely numbered a few dozen. Thoth shuddered to think what would happen if the opposition ever found out how easy it would be to take the temple—they would crush it in an instant.

  It was as if his fear had been whispered in his brother’s ear. Seth was outside the gate, waiting for him in an elaborate litter carried by six men.

  Thoth hid his shock and hurried through the sheets of rain. He climbed inside and clasped hands with his brother. For the moment, they pretended that there was no strain between them.

  Seth signaled to the litter-bearers to move on, then handed Thoth a small towel. “An even bigger storm is coming. The waters of the Nile are already rising.”

  “So you came to keep me from getting wet?” Thoth jested.

  His brother laughed. “No, I heard news the deed is done.”

  Thoth knew the Guardian had not made a public announcement—his brother must have a spy inside the temple. His fears grew as he watched the temple grow smaller in the distance. “So you’ve left Father’s house for good?” Thoth asked.

  Seth answered with a grim smile. “A great change is coming, and he can do nothing to prevent it. I am here to extend the hand of brotherhood and ask you to join me.”

  Thoth sized up his brother, noting how the last year had altered him. Seth was dressed in an adorned tunic fine enough for any ruler, and he wore an emblem around his neck that Thoth could not identify. It must be the symbol of the Apophis. Thoth had heard rumors of their growing brutality, how they had tried to stage public riots, threatened Heliopolis’ peacekeepers, and supported any usurper of the law. It chilled him to think that his brother may now be one of their leaders. “You expect me to help you destroy the House of Atum? After I just sired their heir?”

  “Which is precisely why you should. We can rewrite the laws so you and Hermese can be together and raise your child. I know you well, brother. Is that not your heart’s desire?”

  Thoth didn’t speak. Seth would be surprised to know how much he wanted to share that vision of the future, but it was impossible. Hermese would never agree and he could never go against her.

  “Just think, we would gain access to the complex.” Seth’s eyes grew bright with tempered zeal. “No more secrets, no more knowledge that the people can’t touch. All of Egypt would join together.”

  Thoth held his gaze steady. “I thought the people were together. I do not see many complaining.”

  “Because you’ve had your head buried in the sand,” Seth snapped. “Or somewhere else.”

  Thoth refused to be baited. “There is a balance of power for a reason. After the Great War—”

  Seth interjected, “Spare me Father’s history lesson! The Great War has nothing to do with here and now. You gave the House of Atum your seed, did you give them your manhood as well?”

  Thoth sat back and crossed his arms—the urge to strike his brother overwhelmed him.

  Seth leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Their fall will happen soon, with or without you. Would you not like to have a hand in your lover’s fate?”

  Thoth began to feel real fear now. He had to tread carefully—his brother had become a threat to Hermese. “I need time to think on your offer. For now I will walk the rest of the way to the city.”

  Something flickered in Seth’s eyes. He gave a sharp knock on the litter door and the men beneath it stopped and lowered it to the ground.

  Thoth got out and could not resist saying, “If she had chosen you, this would all be different.”

  Seth stared at him, and his smile hardened. “No, just easier.” He knocked on the litter again, and the bearers moved on.

  Thoth knew he needed to talk to his father and find a way to warn Hermese. He feared his brother did not plan to let her, or the child, live. She would forever pose a threat to the Apophis even as a figurehead.

  Thoth broke into a run. He realized his brother would strike on the day that was meant to symbolize a new beginning: the return of Sirius—the Star of Isis. He would strike tomorrow.

  * * *

  When Thoth arrived home, he discovered that his father had died three days earlier. He listened numbly as their house servant explained everything and begged his forgiveness. Ramses had refused to let anyone send for him. The servant’s continuous sobs carved Thoth’s heart up into even smaller pieces. He patted the servant’s shoulder and did his best to comfort him. Then he left.

  He wandered through the market, unsure of what to do next. His father had been the keystone in his life, and he needed his counsel now more than ever. Even worse, his brother had said nothing of his passing. This was something Thoth could not forgive.

  He could feel the people’s eyes upon him as he made his way to the Great Sun Temple of Re, where he knew his father’s funeral would have taken place. Its size and grandeur made it seem more like a mountain that had been hollowed out by the gods. When he entered, he was not surprised to find it empty. Everyone was busy preparing for tomorrow’s celebration.

  Thoth walked up to the altar and stood before the eternal flame. It was an homage to the phoenix—the sacred bird of Egypt. As a child, Thoth had been fascinated by stories about them. The last known phoenix had died with Horus and traveled with him to the Duat, the Afterlife, but its spirit lived on as a potent reminder of the soul’s immortality and the people’s past.

  He watched the flames, trying to imagine his father’s spirit within them. He had
never felt so alone.

  “Your father was a great man.”

  Thoth turned around and was surprised to find himself face-to-face with Ptah, the High Priest of the temple. Thoth took a step back and bowed in respect.

  The old man continued, “And a dear friend. I have been waiting for you to come.”

  Thoth did not know what to say. Ptah was the most revered priest in all of Heliopolis. He had been alive for so long that no one even knew his age. Thoth could not imagine what he wanted with him.

  The high priest had been staring at him with great intensity, and he appeared satisfied by what he saw. He motioned for Thoth to follow him with a gentle hand. “Come, the others are waiting,” he said and turned away. Thoth hesitated—what others, he wondered—but hurried after him.

  Ptah led him to a hidden door behind the great altar and ushered him inside. They descended a stairwell that spiraled deep into the earth. Thoth thought of the maps Hermese had shown him and knew this must lead to the labyrinth under the city.

  They walked through a maze of tunnels. Ptah opened another hidden door to an enormous room, with a ceiling so high Thoth’s eyes strained to see it. He saw a huge emblem on the wall and recognized it as the same one that his father had used to seal the scroll he’d sent to Hermese. Below the emblem stood an exquisite round table made from a giant acacia tree. Four people sat around it: two men and two women. Thoth recognized three of the faces.

  Bast, a formidable councilwoman who had worked closely with his father and known Thoth all his life, gave him a warm smile. “Welcome, Thoth.”

  Thoth looked at the man next to her: Ammon, the greatest alchemist of their time, and a man who could allegedly control any element. Thoth did not know him, but recognized him because of his fame.

  The third person at the table was Thutmose. Out of all the people who were gathered there, Thoth was most relieved to see him, and he stepped forward, anxious to speak to him alone—he needed to reveal his brother’s plans. But Ptah was busy introducing him to the fourth person in the group. “This is Ma’at, our greatest seer, and the Keeper of Time.”

  Thoth was taken aback. He had heard of Ma’at but had always thought of her as an ancient sage, not the young beauty who stood before him. A deep sadness eclipsed her loveliness, but she gave him a faint smile. As if reading his thoughts, she said, “I am in fact older than you, and you are wondering why you are here.” She offered him the seat beside her. “Although he is no longer with us, your father always longed for this day. We are the Brotherhood of Horus. Or what is left of it.”

  Her words stunned him. Thoth shook his head in denial. “The Brotherhood is only a legend.”

  “We exist,” Ammon said with a mischievous grin. The gesture made him less intimidating. “Your father was one of us. Each of our ancestors sat on Horus’ inner council. He entrusted them with safeguarding the Hall of Records, which is all that survived the Great War … and the pyramid, the last working energy center of its kind. For hundreds of years, each family has passed its sacred oath to protect them on to the next generation and we have not failed, yet.”

  Bast touched his arm in a maternal gesture. “So you see, Thoth, the Brotherhood of Horus are Guardians, in secret. Only one son or daughter can inherit the seat. Your father chose you.”

  Now Thoth understood why Hermese had taught him so much. She had known he had been chosen. The weight of that ancient vow pressed upon him and Thoth envisioned his father’s hand reaching through the Duat to help him accept it.

  He sensed Ma’at studying him. She frowned and said, “Hermese should have been here by now.”

  Thoth’s heart quickened. “Hermese is part of the fellowship?”

  Ma’at nodded. “The Guardian is leader of the Brotherhood.”

  It took Thoth a moment to comprehend what she hadn’t said. “Hermese is the Guardian?” He could see looks being exchanged around the table.

  Thutmose answered, “Hermese has been Guardian since her father died four months ago. We were waiting for the child’s conception to announce the transition.”

  Thoth sat speechless. Her father’s death coincided with when they had abandoned the potion and she could not even tell him. So she had carried their secret after she had conceived so that they could have a few more stolen scraps of time together. He was ashamed of the anger he had felt when he last saw her.

  But she was coming. The underground tunnels connected the city to the pyramid complex and the temple. The knowledge that they would be able to meet each other in secret gave him life again, and now her parting words made sense: Horus was God of the Horizon and she would meet him here … with the Brotherhood.

  Thoth wanted to laugh for joy, but then he saw Thutmose’s worried face and his previous sense of alarm came rushing back. The time for speaking in private had passed.

  “I am honored by your trust and inclusion, and I must speak freely now. I was on my way to seek my father’s council when I learned of his death … my brother is going to make a move against the House of Atum. He has a spy inside the temple. Somehow he knew about the child.”

  Thutmose swore and jumped to his feet. “I should have never left her alone. When is he planning to strike?” He put on his cloak.

  “Tomorrow, upon Sirius’s return. I hope I am wrong.”

  Ma’at shook her head. The seer’s eyes grew more unfocused as her mind turned inward. She drew a sharp breath, her face filled with horror. Whatever she saw there was unspeakable. She only could whisper, “He already has her.”

  FORTY-TWO

  Bryan listened to Linz moan in her sleep and felt her forehead again. She was burning up.

  On the flight over, she had complained of not feeling well, and by the time they had landed, she was barely conscious. Bryan had managed to get her through customs and into a taxi. Luckily it was just a short drive to the hotel in Heliopolis. He had left her sleeping in the cab while he checked in and then carried her to the room and laid her on the bed. She had not woken up since—and that was twenty-four hours ago.

  The fact that he could not rouse her, even to drink water, alarmed him. She had also been speaking in her sleep in a language Bryan had never heard before. If she didn’t wake up soon, he’d have to take her to a hospital. She’ll wake up, he assured himself. She had to.

  Thinking that he should have aspirin, food, bottled water, and whatever else Linz might need on hand when she woke, Bryan got dressed and wrote her a quick note, just in case, and left it on the pillow. He hung the “do not disturb” sign on the door and headed to the elevators.

  “Is your friend any better?”

  Bryan turned around and saw the young housekeeper who was assigned to their floor. She had helped him usher Linz into the room yesterday. He had felt an immediate affinity for her, but could not place her from anywhere in his past. It was like meeting an old friend again and forgetting their name.

  She gave him an inquisitive smile, waiting for his response. She was a lovely Egyptian girl with wide almond-shaped eyes and a classical face. There was a natural light about her, as if she was always eager to laugh.

  Bryan swallowed his frustration and answered, “She’s still sleeping.”

  “Well, let me know if I can get you anything. My name is Layla.” She continued down the hallway. Bryan watched her walk away.

  He got on the elevator and headed to the lobby. The Intercontinental at City Stars was more opulent than what Bryan would have chosen. Linz had booked their room in Boston while they waited for their flight. The enormous development center included two other hotels and the largest mall in Europe and the Middle East. With over six hundred stores, two theme parks, and a twenty-one-screen cinema, the shopping mecca was a manifestation of the twenty-first century’s voracious appetite for consumerism. Bryan had never experienced anything like it.

  As he pushed through the crowd, the life he had come to find had never seemed more unobtainable. Maybe it was a mistake to bring Linz halfway around the world. Running awa
y hadn’t solved anything. Bryan had used his credit card to pay for the flights and their hotel room, making it possible for Conrad to find them. Hell, he controlled a billion-dollar pharmaceutical empire. He could find anyone.

  Bryan’s concerns about Conrad evaporated as he stood in front of the massive mall directory. He counted six levels at City Stars and vowed he would only go up to three—he wanted to get what he came for and get out. Working haphazardly and with hardly a clue as to what Linz liked or needed, he bought her toiletries and food.

  On his way out, he found a hobby store and purchased a drawing pad, charcoal pencils, and oil pastels. He knew he wouldn’t be going anywhere until Linz recovered. Maybe drawing would trigger something. He was starting to feel desperate.

  * * *

  When Bryan got back to their room Linz was still in deep sleep. She didn’t wake from the noise he made as he rifled through plastic bags or react when he called her name.

  He felt her forehead, and was relieved to find that at least her fever had broken—a good sign. He would let her sleep until morning and then decide what to do.

  In the meantime, he piled the supplies on the table and got out a bottle of vodka he had bought. He poured himself a double shot.

  The room had come with a terrace and Bryan stepped out onto it, feeling a night breeze brush across his face. He closed his eyes and, for a brief moment, heard the whisper of the ancient land he had come to find.

  A comfortable-looking lounge chair beckoned to him. He leaned back and looked up at the sky; he had hoped for stars but saw only clouds and pollution. As he sipped his vodka, his mind turned to Pushkin. He felt an urge to write a poem but suppressed it. He wanted to recover new memories, not old ones.

  Finishing his drink, he poured another, unable to quell his frustration. Why couldn’t he remember? He knew there were countless lives in his head, and yet the one he wanted to retrieve eluded him like a phantom. Again, his thoughts returned to the poem. It wouldn’t go away.