The Memory Painter: A Novel Read online

  He went inside, found pen and paper in the hotel desk drawer, and returned to the lounge chair and began to write. He stared at the finished poem before tossing it aside, and in one deft move jumped up onto the balcony’s ledge.

  Calling upon Bodhidharma’s grace, he walked the narrow strip with confidence, feeling his mind balancing on the same ledge. Bryan opened his arms wide and let the wind whip his body. He stood like that for several minutes and felt a calm wash over him.

  Suddenly Bodhidharma’s voice rang loudly inside his head, commanding him to paint. Bryan jolted and opened his eyes—why was he standing on a half-foot ledge fifteen stories off the ground? He pitched forward and caught himself just in time, jumping backward onto the cement.

  “Jesus,” he said, feeling breathless yet exhilarated. He went into the room to grab the drawing pad and oil pastels.

  Returning to his chair, he stared at the blank paper, not knowing where to start—he had never tried to paint a memory before he had remembered a life. Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine his Egyptian goddess. But ever since he had arrived in Cairo, she felt like a distant dream.

  He was alone. And, somehow, he feared that, when it came, this memory would be the worst.

  FORTY-THREE

  EGYPT

  10,000 BC

  The plan was well under way when they heard the explosion. It made the earth shake with such magnitude that Thoth felt as if the ground would open up and swallow the city whole.

  At first he thought Ammon had caused the tremor—the alchemist had left the tunnels to create a diversion outside the temple. But the blast was followed by a deafening vibrational hum. The sound could have come only from one source—the Great Pyramid. Something had gone terribly wrong.

  The vibrations shook the air itself. Thoth and Thutmose held on to the walls. They had been waiting for Ammon’s signal in the tunnel at the temple’s hidden door. The plan had been to create a distraction so that Seth’s men would head to the gates. Thoth and Thutmose just needed enough time to slip inside, locate Hermese, and get her below. Meanwhile, Bast had returned to Heliopolis to rally the council, while Ptah addressed the citizens at the Sun temple.

  Rocks fell from the underground tunnel’s ceiling and the staircase began to collapse. Thutmose launched his body forward and grabbed Thoth to keep him from falling. His voice was barely audible over the deafening hum. “We must go now!”

  Thoth nodded, watching Thutmose open the door to the Constellation Chamber. The grand room lay in ruins; the beautiful lattice that framed the stars had crashed to the floor. Then, without warning, the vibrations stopped, leaving an eerie silence—a silence Thoth had never heard before.

  The pyramids were quiet; the entire temple was dark. And as Thoth’s eyes adjusted to the lack of light, he understood what had happened. The pyramids had suffered a catastrophe. They stopped running because the Guardian had not been there to save them.

  Thoth ran toward Hermese’s quarters with Thutmose right behind him. They encountered none of Seth’s men, only servants looking dazed and bloodied. When Thoth and Thutmose entered the Grand Gallery, they realized why: the entire House of Atum and their guards had been slain like dogs. Both men cried out at the carnage.

  Thoth searched among the bodies, terrified that Hermese would be there.

  Thutmose fell to his knees at the sight of his wife and son. Six of his finest men had fallen around them. They had tried to protect their commander’s family, even as they faced their deaths.

  “Hermese! Hermese!” Thoth called her name as he searched. He turned back to Thutmose. “She’s not here. I’m going to her quarters.”

  “I’ll look upstairs.” Thutmose forced himself to his feet.

  Thoth saw the dead guards’ weapons piled against the wall and picked up a khopesh, a sickle-shaped sword best wielded with one hand. He found a mace and shield as well, tied them to his belt, and took off running. He prayed she was still alive.

  * * *

  When he saw the body, he was not sure. Hermese lay splayed out on the bed, her robes torn, her skin cut and bruised. Thoth knelt beside her and saw the faint rise and fall of her chest. Blood pooled between her legs, and he knew the child was dead.

  Lifting her limp body, he cradled her in his arms. “Hermese, I’m here. Please wake up.” He rocked her as he cried.

  Pulling himself together, he found a cloak and covered her, but not before he had seen the full extent of the torture she had endured. He knew this was Seth’s work, and he was filled with such hatred that any remaining love he had for his brother died.

  Thoth carried Hermese back to the Grand Gallery but saw no sign of Thutmose. He could not risk waiting for him; the old guard would have to fend for himself. He could meet the rest of the Brotherhood underground.

  Thoth made it to the Constellation Chamber and was almost at the hidden door when Seth and his men entered the front gate. Luckily, Thoth was at an angle where he could watch them without being seen. But in a few moments, Seth’s army would cross the main courtyard and they would be exposed.

  Thoth could not risk opening the passage and revealing its location. Seth would do anything to know how to penetrate the tunnels. His only course was to delay them until the others could take Hermese to safety. He laid her on the ground next to the door and marched into the pouring rain, closing the distance between them.

  “Traitor!” Thoth took out his sword. “I challenge you!”

  Seth stopped and held out his hand, gesturing for his men to stand down. “Brother! You have come too late.”

  Thoth could feel his body trembling with rage.

  Seth called out, “She left me no choice. She refused to talk.”

  Thoth could barely say the words. “You killed my son.”

  “The decision weighed heavy in my heart.” Seth shook his head sadly. “But the boy could not live.”

  “You are no longer my brother,” Thoth screamed, tears blinding his vision. “Kiya and Father are watching you from the Duat.”

  “There is no Duat—no life after death. This is all we are,” Seth answered.

  A curtain of rain fell between them. Thoth felt bile rise in his chest. “The pyramid is silent. What have you done?”

  For a moment, Thoth saw Seth’s mask of confidence slip. Seth shouted, “It can be repaired. After we possess the hidden knowledge, we’ll be able to build more pyramids, heralding a new world. No more Guardians, no more secrets.”

  “And who will be the leader of this new world? You?”

  Seth spread his arms wide. “The people trust me because I am one of them. I don’t hide behind legends and lost magic. It’s time for a new beginning.”

  “A new beginning in the dark!” Thoth turned to address Seth’s men. They needed to hear the truth. “Because that is where you will live—in a world with no light. There is more than one Guardian—a Brotherhood—and on Horus’ sacred oath, they will never let you have the hidden knowledge.”

  Seth laughed. “More than one Guardian? Where are they?”

  “Here.” Thoth pressed the khopesh to his chest. “Chosen by our father, who was chosen by his father, who was chosen by his—because his father’s father had been chosen by Horus himself. I am but one of many. You can kill me, but you cannot kill us all.”

  With great satisfaction, Thoth watched the disbelief on his brother’s face turn to fury. Seth’s men looked at each other, wondering if they had chosen the wrong side. Seth drew his sword.

  Thoth did not know what would happen next. The khopesh felt heavy in his hand, and he tried to remember his training. In theory, wide slashes would do the most damage. The blade of the khopesh was weighted perfectly so that its user could thrust, jab, or slash at his opponent. Thoth intended to do all three.

  He forced his mind to focus. In a moment he would try to kill his brother. Surely Ramses would approve his actions. No man deserved to die more than Seth did.

  The brothers circled each other, both blinded by the rain. Li
ghtning flashed in the sky, as if the heavens were angered by the silence of the pyramids. Seth’s men grew uneasy. Thoth knew Seth sensed this as well and hoped it would splinter his concentration—otherwise Thoth’s chances of winning were slim. The only way to achieve victory would be to use his superior balance and agility to avoid his brother’s strength.

  Seth attacked, and Thoth willed his body to bend with the air. He feinted right, lunged left, and brought his sword up in a wide arc—and his blade broke skin. Seth jumped back, barely saving himself from the lethal cut. He looked down at the blood flowing freely from his chest. The wound appeared deep.

  With a roar, Seth charged, slicing the air. Thoth avoided each strike with the slightest turn. Seth lunged low and slashed at his feet. Thoth jumped high and arched his body, avoiding the blow by launching himself into a back flip.

  The rains stopped and Thoth felt the Earth’s energy course through him, causing his fear to subside. Thunder rumbled as if telling him he would not die in this fight—that a greater ending awaited him.

  He saw that Ammon and Ma’at had arrived, ready to come to his aid. Seth advanced again, and Thoth avoided each strike until he saw his opening. Swift and sure, he dropped his sword and rammed his elbow into his brother’s temple, as his other hand found a pressure point in Seth’s neck, causing him to lose consciousness. Seth collapsed.

  Before Seth’s men could retaliate, Ammon threw a powder into the air that turned into smoke when its dust touched the ground. Everything erupted into chaos. Thoth looked down at his brother. His sword was raised and he was ready to strike, but he could not do it. He prayed to his father in the Duat to understand—and he let Seth live.

  Thoth rushed back into the chamber with Ammon and Ma’at following just behind. Hermese was still curled up on the floor. Thoth gathered her in his arms as Ma’at opened the passage.

  “Hurry!” she shouted. “We must get below.”

  As Thoth turned to enter, something struck his body with tremendous force. He looked down at the arrow protruding from his chest, then back to his brother, who lay on the ground with a bow in his hands.

  Thoth staggered and Ma’at clutched him to keep him on his feet. As the smoke cleared, Seth’s men began closing the distance.

  Thutmose came running toward them from the other direction. “Get below! I’ll hold them off.”

  Ammon grabbed Hermese and nodded. “I will see you in the Duat.”

  The old warrior’s smile was grim. “In the Duat,” he said and charged at Seth’s men with a war cry, wielding a khopesh in each hand.

  With Hermese in his arms, Ammon disappeared into the tunnel. Ma’at followed with Thoth and sealed the door. Thoth tried to ignore the blood oozing from his chest. When he spoke, his voice sounded faint. “Now they will know how to enter the tunnels.”

  Ma’at shook her head. “It’s unfortunate, but we are not defeated. This passage will never be used again.”

  Thoth didn’t know what she meant until they’d descended the stairs. While Ammon continued on with Hermese, Ma’at stopped and ordered him to wait. She left him leaning against the wall and slipped behind an alcove. Soon Thoth could hear rocks moving, then the ground above him began to shake. At first, he thought it was another explosion—until he saw the walls of the entire passage above them come together to form a ceiling. Ma’at had sealed the entrance.

  Thoth grabbed the arrow’s shaft and broke it off so that only a small bit of wood protruded from his chest. He felt like he was about to collapse.

  When Ma’at rejoined him, she saw the bloody arrow on the ground. Thoth could read the question in her eyes. He stopped leaning against the wall and tried to stand up straight. “I’ll be fine,” he said.

  She lit a torch to guide the way. The tunnels were in darkness now—as was everything else. The magnetic force that fueled the city—their lights, their machines, everything—was no longer accessible. Thoth couldn’t begin to fathom the consequences. The technology his ancestors had fought to preserve was all but lost.

  He grew weak, no longer certain that he could make it back to the meeting hall, when Ma’at spoke. “We turn here.”

  Thoth shook his head. “But the Temple of Re is this way.”

  “We’re not going back to Heliopolis. We’re going to the Hall of Records.”

  Thoth had dreamed his whole life of seeing the Hall of Records, but right now, he could only think of Hermese. Again Ma’at seemed to intuit his thoughts and said, “Hermese is already there.”

  They continued to make their way through the tunnels. Ma’at forced him to use her body as a crutch. “Your father would be proud,” she said.

  Thoth gave her an appraising look. “You had feelings for him.”

  Ma’at hesitated. “We were going to be married. He was waiting until you returned home to tell you.”

  Her confession couldn’t have shocked him more. There was so much he didn’t know about his father.… What other secrets had he taken with him to the Duat? The torchlight cast eerie shadows on the walls. He did not know if the day’s events had overtaken him, but the world seemed to take on a dream-like effect. “Where are we now?” he asked.

  “Under Hor-em-Akhet.”

  So the rumors were true, he thought. Hor-em-Akhet, the great Sphinx, sat above the Hall of Records, guarding its treasure.

  They descended more stairs, burrowing further into the Earth. It made him wonder all the more at the divide between the keepers of the knowledge and the people.

  Suddenly the stairs stopped. Thoth knew they had arrived, and as he stood on this hallowed ground, he began to understand the full extent of what the Guardians protected. Torches illuminated a chamber filled with thousands of scrolls stored in open wooden boxes. Ancient stone tablets had been mounted on one wall, alongside the most beautiful crystals he had ever seen. Even from where he stood, he could recognize the Sacred Symbols illuminated within them.

  He looked up, marveling at it all. The shelves were so high that, even with the torchlight, the tops were shrouded in darkness. Another wall as tall as the Temple of Re illustrated the constellations in a carving that covered every inch of its stone. The intricate rendering showed countless galaxies, measured and notated with mathematical formulas.

  “A true map of our heavens,” Hermese said.

  Thoth turned and saw her sitting at a table made of limestone, her eyes numb. “I could not save the child,” she whispered. Thoth came and sat beside her, his own suffering forgotten. Ammon and Ma’at gave them a moment of privacy.

  She could not bear to speak of it further and diverted his attention to the pyramid by explaining that its fall had been prophesized. “I never believed it would happen in my lifetime … that I would be the Guardian who failed.”

  Thoth shook his head. “I am the one who failed you. I should have known what was in my brother’s heart.”

  “He is but the hand of a greater enemy. The Elders knew the greed in men’s hearts. The bridge to all that we were is broken now.”

  Thoth wanted to ease her agony, but he had no words to comfort her. He shifted his position—his wound had become unbearable.

  Hermese saw the blood and gasped, “Ammon!”

  Ammon materialized from the shadows and knelt beside them. He brought his hands together with a loud clap and rubbed his palms back and forth. When he placed his palms on Thoth’s chest, they felt hot to the touch and pulsated with unseen energy. Thoth winced. Ammon urged him to relax.

  Hermese put her hand on Thoth’s shoulder. He watched the alchemist work and felt nothing when Ammon slid the rest of the arrow from his chest. Ammon pressed a cloth to the wound and placed his hand on top of it. Once again, the heat was overwhelming. When Ammon removed his hand from the cloth, Thoth saw that the wound had closed. It still looked fresh and tender, but the bleeding had stopped.

  Thoth looked to Hermese and saw that she had been restored as well. He wanted to know what the alchemist had done, but Hermese stood up and turned to Ammon a
nd Ma’at.

  “They will be searching for a way in now that they know the tunnels exist,” she said.

  Thoth began to sense there was a plan in place that he did not know about. “What do we do?” he asked.

  Hermese looked at him—she was still the Guardian and in command. “The tunnels were built to connect to the river. We open those doors and flood everything.”

  Thoth gaped at her, unable to accept what she was suggesting. “So the Hall of Records is to be swept into the Nile? No one will ever remember the Great Past. We will be condemned to live in darkness.”

  Hermese ignored his reproaches and disappeared down an aisle. Thoth shook his head in disbelief and sat at the table. Ma’at joined him there and quietly reassured him. “The Hall of Records will be sealed. Everything will be kept safe.”

  He glared at her. “Safe for no one to ever find.”

  “If people found the Hall of Records now, do you really think it would survive?” she countered.

  Thoth couldn’t answer. He had seen Seth’s mob and could not imagine they understood what sacred meant.

  Ma’at pressed her point. “The knowledge that exists here can move mountains and keep a man alive forever, destroy worlds and alter universes. Do you want this kind of power in your brother’s hands?” She hesitated, “What has come to pass today was written long ago. Someday, when the world is ready, we will find our legacy again. It has been foretold.”

  Thoth didn’t care what had been foretold, or when the Hall would be found again. These were abstractions from a past and a future he did not exist in. The present was all that mattered. He looked to where Hermese had retreated into the shadows, and he chastised himself for directing his anger at her. She was not to blame.

  He heard movement in the tunnel. Ammon hurried to investigate and came back moments later with Ptah and Bast. They looked just as battle weary as the rest.

  Moments later, Hermese returned, carrying a stone box. She set it on the table. Once again, to Thoth’s annoyance, everyone seemed to know what was going on but him.