Reawakened (The Reawakened Series) (22 page)

“Quite right. Normally, I would agree. Hatshepsut was certainly not the first or the last Egyptian royal to develop an affinity for a dangerous creature. But I say that there might be more to the story.”

“How so?” Amon inquired coolly.

“It is disputed, but I have found signs indicating that Hatshepsut had special ties to the sphinx. We know, for example, that there was once an avenue of sphinxes that lined the path leading to her mortuary temple. Certain records discovered in Africa speak of the lionesses gifted to Hatshepsut, but one of them unmistakably said that ‘The Lioness’ came from Africa.

“This is in reference to the mysterious leader of a secret group called the Order of the Sphinx, a seldom-talked-about, highly controversial sect that many scholars dismiss as a fairy tale. I think not only that the order did exist, but that Hatshepsut might have been appointed their leader during that trip to visit the king.”

Amon rubbed his cheek. “Interesting. Why do you think she was the leader and not simply a member?”

“Well, the sheer number of statues that graced the avenue of sphinxes was an indication of her respect for the creature. Then there’s the fact that her temple was once surrounded by myrrh and frankincense trees, a sign that proves just how important that trip to Africa was.” Dr. Hassan looked at me. “There is a statue of her as the sphinx in your Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City.”

I sucked in a quick breath. The need to kick Amon and tell him we had to hightail it out of the tent was urgent, but all I could get out was a little moan. Amon squeezed my hand and asked if I was in pain. I shook my head, mentally screaming at him that we were in danger, but if he got my message, he ignored it.

My rational mind told me it was highly unlikely that Dr. Hassan would know anything about where I came from. It was likely a simple coincidence that he’d brought up the Met, but my suspicions were hard to ignore. He seemed to know more about us than we knew about him, and that made me very uncomfortable.

“Please continue, Doctor,” Amon encouraged him.

“The statue in the New York museum depicts Hatshepsut as the sphinx—her beautiful face is marked by the ceremonial false beard and headdress symbolizing her might; her body is that of a lioness. She was a powerful and handsome woman. One of the inscriptions in the temple says that ‘to look upon her was more beautiful than anything; her splendor and her form were divine. She was a maiden, beautiful and blooming.’ ”

“Is she now”—Amon hesitated—“under the glass?”

“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 and 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.