The Memory Painter: A Novel (36 page)

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. Lightning 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 and 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.

Ptah stared at the box with a sad smile. “So it has come to this.”

Hermese looked to Ma’at and asked, “How long?”

“Hours, at most.”

Everyone sat in somber silence. Hermese frowned. “Where is Thutmose?”

Ammon answered, “He gave up his life to help us escape.”

Hermese drew a sharp breath, fighting to control her emotions. She turned to Ptah. “There is not much time. You must hold services every day. The people will need a spiritual leader now more than ever. Bast, rally the Council to stand against the Apophis. Ammon and Ma’at will flood the tunnels from above. I will remain here to seal the Hall.”

Everyone nodded. They all seemed to know their missions. Thoth could not keep his frustration in check any longer. “And what of me?”

Hermese looked at him and his anger died. “Thoth, as our newest Guardian,” she said, “you have the most vital task.” She set the box in front of him and explained, “This is a summary of the knowledge in this room, the wisdom we protect. It contains many Sacred Symbols and their keys, how to harness the energy of the Earth, control the elements, and much more. It is a great risk to take it aboveground, but we must—which is why I am entrusting it to you. Look far and wide, follow your heart to find the safest place on this Earth to hide it … for one day it will need to be found.”

Thoth stared at the box, afraid to touch it. “What is it?”

“
The Book of Thoth
,” she answered. Thoth looked at her in confusion. She gave him a faint smile. “Every book has a name. This one has yours.”

Thoth studied the box again. “I hide it, but then who will find it?”

“You will,” Ma’at said.

Thoth was impatient with their riddles. “I don’t understand.”

The seer tried to explain. “Time is a circle. There will be a way to come back to this moment and set the path right. We will live again and again, gaining new wisdom with time, helping mankind become ready to receive its legacy once more as we find our way back to this moment. We have only to remember our past in our future—when we do and the two become one, then Horus will return to help heal the world.”

Thoth listened to her words, his thumb absently tracing an infinity sign along his index finger.
Horus would walk among us? The time of the Gods would come again?
How could man ever return to such a divine state when all seemed lost? It would take thousands of years if not more to reach such enlightenment, and now that task rested on the brotherhood’s shoulders? He was speechless. He could see why his father had loved Ma’at. She was just as mad as he was.

“We have studied the ancient texts,” she insisted. “It can be done.”

Thoth scowled. “I haven’t studied them.”

Ammon tapped the box with one finger and winked. “Then read your book before you bury it.”

Thoth looked at the box, terrified at the thought of being entrusted with such responsibility.

Ptah seemed to know what he was thinking and put his hand on his shoulder. “You will not fail us, son of Ramses. Your father watches you from the Duat.”

Thoth wanted to believe it and wished his father could be with him now. He had been thrust into a world he did not understand, a world counting on him for its survival.

Hermese spoke. “We must go. Time is running out.”

They all joined hands. Ma’at and Ammon looked at Thoth as they waited to close the circle. He took their hands and his eyes met Hermese’s.