The Memory Painter: A Novel (34 page)

Hermese also began showing him the Sacred Symbols. Each one contained within it a mathematical equation that formed the fabric of the universe. She explained to him how all things were made of vibrations and particles of light, and that in the First Time, the Guardians had been able to direct both with the mind.

Thoth could not grasp everything she said, but then she had been trained extensively all her life. She could decipher the Sacred Symbols, and she could fine-tune the Great Pyramid’s harmonic oscillation and acoustic resonance much like a master musician would. The more Thoth learned, the more he was in awe of her mind. An entirely new world was unfolding before his eyes, and with it he began to understand just how much power the House of Atum wielded.

Hermese asked him not to discuss these lessons with anyone, including the scrolls he was studying that mapped out the entire pyramid complex, its expansive tunnel system, and the hidden vault underneath the Sphinx. Thoth committed everything to memory in the event that one day he might be called upon to use it.

Every day he began to look forward to discovering what Hermese had left for him, although he could not understand her motives. People on the outside would have killed to know these secrets. On his last visit home, Thoth had learned that Seth had publicly joined the Apophis, those who opposed the council’s allegiance to the Guardian. The public saw this as a personal blow to Ramses, whose presence was the only thing that kept the council from falling apart.

Thoth had heard Ramses praying to Re again for the child, and his guilt at his and Hermese’s deception grew. He knew his father needed him more than ever, and he swore that Ramses’ prayer would not be in vain.

When Thoth returned to the temple that night, he did not know how to broach the subject with Hermese, but to his relief, he didn’t have to. After they made love, Hermese took the secret vial and, without a word, scattered its contents into her garden. She came back to bed, and he held out his hand.

*   *   *

It took two weeks for Hermese to become pregnant, but they wanted to hide the news as long as possible. As soon as the child was announced, Thoth would have to leave the temple.

They spent many nights lying in bed, listening to the soft rain while they debated the name of the next Guardian.

Hermese stroked her stomach. “I think he is a boy.”

“Do you?” Thoth kissed her belly.

Hermese’s fingertip traced the circle of infinity on her stomach. “I want to name him Amyntas.”

Thoth considered it and tried not to feel desolate, knowing well that she could name the child whatever she wished. He would not be with her for the naming ceremony.

“It means defender of all that is sacred,” she explained. “If the baby is a girl, she will be Amynta.”

Hermese grew quiet, and Thoth knew she was thinking about their impending separation. The law stated that once the child was conceived, the father could never be allowed inside the temple again—if he entered, he would forfeit his life.

As the time of their separation drew nearer, Thoth began to agree with his brother and question why the Elders had created such strict laws. He posed no threat to Hermese, or to her role as Guardian. He merely wanted to be with her and raise their child. Why was such an innocent desire so unthinkable?

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.”