Anubis Nights (31 page)

“I could strangle you,” I said.

Winslow laughed. “That would be stupid. You’d be stuck here. Kelly is behind the servants who are carrying Tut’s possessions, which will be buried with him. You can’t get to her quickly, so it’s far better to witness this momentous event, though I will admit it’s still rather hot. I wouldn’t mind a dash of fresh rain to cool things down a bit.”

“Are you planning to do something crazy?” I asked. I kept pulling on my bonds, and they were beginning to give a bit.

“Aleister Crowley once told me that the Egyptian priests were magicians and that their magic was both real and powerful.”

“Your buddy Aye is a wizard, but I don’t think his magic is that strong.”

“Not to one such as yourself with perfect balance, but look at what these people have accomplished. They built the pyramids and the sphinx. They craft massive obelisks, sail them down the Nile, and erect them in their cities. They build temples from stones weighing hundreds of tons. That may be child’s play in your time, but it’s not something we could do during my lifetime.”

“I don’t think we could do it in my time either,” I said. “What about it?”

“Aren’t you the least bit curious how they managed it?”

“Slave labor is cheap.”

“But the pyramids weren’t built by slaves.”

“So you think gods from another world built them?”

“No. The Egyptians themselves built them. I think they saw their temples and pyramids as a way to stand up to the sands of time and create something that would last many thousands of years. It’s their way of reaching out to touch the immortal soul of man.”

“Or proof that the pharaohs had massive egos and wanted the largest tombs ever.”

Winslow gave me a confused look. “Tombs? This is the Valley of the Kings. This is where most of the tombs are located.”

“Yeah, but weren’t the pyramids tombs too?”

Winslow shook his head. “Have you ever heard of a body found in a pyramid?”

“Well, no.”

“Have you ever seen a tomb after the time of Imhotep that doesn’t have paintings and reliefs depicting the life of the deceased? By way of comparison, have you ever seen any paintings or reliefs depicting the life of a pharaoh inside a pyramid?”

“Again, no.”

“That’s because the bodies are all in tombs where they belong. The pyramids are definitely not tombs.”

“Haven’t they found sarcophagi in pyramid chambers before?”

“Yes. When a priest wants to travel to the dimension of the gods, he climbs into the sarcophagus and goes there. It’s a gateway for instant transportation to the realm of gods known to some as the Guardians of the Sky.”

“And you know this, but nobody else does?”

Winslow laughed. “Most of the people here probably know that. However, you need the correct rituals to accomplish the transport. I translated the tablets. I traveled to the Great Pyramid. I climbed into a sarcophagus and spoke the spells and made the journey. I have stood in the Halls of Amenti. I learned the magic of the gods. The scroll I found in the Forbidden Texts was right. I am like Hermes, Thrice-Born.”

I wiped sweat from my forehead, wondering if the procession would ever get where it was going. “Sounds like you might want to have that checked.”

“And who was Hermes?” he asked.

“Gee, I didn’t know there was going to be a pop quiz. The world’s first hermaphrodite?”

“You jest, but you’re in the right arena. After all, the first hermaphrodite was supposedly the child of Hermes and Aphrodite. All that aside, Hermes was first known as Thoth in Egypt. He was the self-created god of wisdom, and his teachings were the basis for all hermetic forms of magic.”

“And he was called Mercury in Rome,” I said. “Do I pass the test, O Great and Wondrous Teacher?”

He ignored my jabs. “Three aspects. Sound familiar?”

“Sounds like you have delusions of grandeur.”

“Aspirations toward grandeur would be more accurate.”

“I’ll make a note.”

The musicians stopped playing, and the people all gathered at the opening of Tut’s tomb. I wondered if any of the people here gave any thought to becoming tomb robbers. I could see servants carrying vast amounts of golden objects.

“I thought the tomb was supposed to be a secret,” I said.

Winslow grinned. “The people here all know their station. The workmen who built the tomb have their own lives in their village. The servants know they are mere servants. Yes, there could be grave robbers, but we both know that even if a few of them get into the outer chambers, the real treasure of Tut’s tomb will be safe until Howard Carter and Lord Canarvan break through the chamber wall to find wonderful things.”

The people grew silent, including the mourning women.

Aye stood to one side of the bier and motioned to the priests. “You may come forward,” he said. He wore the blue crown of the pharaoh and a leopard skin.

Winslow leaned toward me and whispered, “Aye thinks he’s the high priest. A few nights as Ankhesenamun’s husband, and he’s all smiles.”

“About that. Why did she marry him?”

“He was going to be king anyway. I told her she could buy herself some time by going along with it. After all, she really upset them with her letter to the Hittites.”

“But she gave the order to kill the prince.”

“You really need to learn to read between the lines a bit, Jonathan. Yes, she gave the order. It bought her time.”

“We could have been killed.”

“And she would definitely have been killed. You should also know that she needed Aye to promise to do the Opening of the Mouth ceremony so her beloved Tutankhamun would reanimate and could breathe, and eat, and ultimately go to the afterlife. She— Oh, they’re getting started. I wish Aleister could see this.”

The Anubis wannabe and the other priests pulled the nested coffin from the sledge and stood it up so Tut seemed to be standing. He looked like a dried-out husk with his arms crossed over his chest. Ankhesenamun stepped forward. She held a burning stick of incense and let the smoke waft around Tut’s mummy. The wailing women made good on their name as they placed garlands around the coffins.

As these things were happening, the priests were chanting spells.

“They’re quoting from the Book of the Dead,” Winslow said.

I could barely make out any of the words over the wailing women. “I’ll take your word for it,” I said.

Two servants pulled a calf to the forefront of the group. The priests kept chanting. The Anubis guy slit the throat of the calf. Blood spilled on the ground as the calf dropped to the sand and died.

One of the priests chanted as he sprinkled something that looked like salt on the mummy. I wasn’t close enough to see for sure.

Finally, Aye stepped forward. He held an adze, a curved wooden axe with an arched metal blade. He motioned toward the darkening skies, and the wailing women grew silent.

Aye adjusted the leopard skin draped around his back and began to speak. “My mouth is opened by Ptah,” he said and touched the adze to Tut’s mouth. “The bonds that gag my mouth have been loosed by my city-god.”

I glanced over at Winslow and saw that he was mouthing the words with the vizier-turned-king.

“Thoth comes fully equipped with magic,” Winslow mouthed and Aye spoke.

I felt an electrical pulse in the air. Surely it was my imagination.

“My mouth has been parted by Ptah with this metal chisel of his with which he parted the mouths of the gods.”

This went on a while, and I realized the electricity in the air was actually magic, and it seemed to be coalescing into a whirling tornado of power.

King Tutankhamun stepped out of his mummy.

“What the—?” I whispered.

Nobody else seemed to notice him.

He walked over to Ankhesenamun and gazed into her eyes. “I miss you, my wife. My only love. I wish I could take you with me, but you are young and have much of life yet to live.”

She kept her head bowed, and tears streamed down her cheeks, blurring her mascara.

Tut moved over to Aye, who stopped chanting. For a moment, I thought Aye could see the ghost of Tut, but he stepped through the ghost and motioned for the priests to tip the coffin onto its back again.

Tut turned and saw me. I gave him a slight nod.

He looked surprised. “You can see me?” he asked and tried to move toward me. Fifteen feet from the coffin, he jerked back.

Was he tied to the coffin the way Esther was to the pieces of her typewriter? Or was there some other magic at work here?

The energy still spun in the air, and I could feel it washing around me like a cool breeze.

Maybe I should have said something to Tut at that point, but he was too far away, and nobody else could see him, so I didn’t think it wise to call attention to myself.

The priests closed the coffins each in turn.

“Three coffins,” Winslow said. “They may represent the ka, the ba, and the akh.”

“The what?” I asked.

“The three parts of the soul in Egyptian belief.”

The priests lifted the coffin, and Aye led them into the tomb, followed by Ankhesenamun and General Horemheb.

“We don’t get to go?” I asked. “I’d like to see the inside of the tomb.”

“As would I,” Winslow said. “But we are not permitted inside. They’re simply going to place the coffin in the red quartzite sarcophagus.”

“You can bring up the image, right?”

“Oh, Jonathan, are you so out of tune with what’s happening?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re perfectly balanced. Light magic. Dark magic. I’ve never encountered anyone like you, and I know Charon looked for you for centuries. Don’t tell me you can’t feel that.”

“The whirling winds of magic at around two o’clock?” I said, cocking my head toward where the magic seemed to be forming and fading from something humanoid to something more like smoke.

He nodded. “Good. You are aware. I dare not call on any other magic at the moment. My magical focus needs to remain where it is.”

“You’re doing that?”

He grinned and gave me a wink.

“It’s time to move on from this existence, but I need one more thing before I go.”

“You’ve been talking to distract me.”

“I’ve been chatting. I like you, Jonathan. You’re a complicated man. I really don’t think you should weigh your soul against the scales because, well, a feather? But I do think overall, you’re a good man.”

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked as I strained against the leather bonds.

“Let’s just say the show isn’t over yet.”

I twisted around, saw the guards flanking us, and tried to look past them to find Kelly in the crowd. The light dimmed as the sun sank, and I couldn’t see her anywhere.

I didn’t know what Winslow planned, but I knew it couldn’t be good. From the tomb, I heard footsteps as the procession returned from placing Tut in the tomb.

Energy swirled in the air.

Ankhesenamun exited the tomb first. She glanced over at Winslow and gave him a nod.

What were they up to? Had they worked some deal for Winslow to remain here as king of Egypt? Winslow was in his mid-forties and Ankhesenamun was maybe nineteen. Many men prefer much younger women, and for Ankhesenamun, taking Winslow over Aye would be an improvement in the looks and age department, but it didn’t make sense. He was a foreigner. As such, he would be no better than the Hittite prince.

I tried to pull free of my bonds to no avail. Should I attack Winslow anyway? Should I just let things play out? The magic couldn’t hurt me.

But what about Kelly?

She was a magically engineered assassin.

Magic could affect her.

Where the hell was she?

Aye stepped out of the tomb, the blue crown still on his head. He removed the leopard skin and handed it to a priest, completely unaware of the magical statue beginning to solidify in the darkening light.

Some wizard he turned out to be.

“Where is Kelly?” I asked.

“She’s on her way,” Winslow said. “I need her for the show. Cast your eyes skyward, my twenty-first-century friend.”

Uh-oh.

Clouds whirled in the sky, and as soon as I looked up, lightning flashed.

Ten minutes earlier, there hadn’t been a cloud in the sky.

God, I hate magic.

“Not straight up, Jonathan. Over to the right.” Winslow pointed.

Now I saw her.

Kelly appeared to be lying supine ten feet above the ground, her arms dangling. Four wizards held their hands aloft as if pushing her up on a cushion of air.

“My helpers,” Winslow said.

“Set Kelly down.”

“Oh, I’m not in control of her. I’m too busy calling forth a god.”

As he said that, one of the priests exited the tomb wearing the jackal mask of Anubis.

“The God of Death,” I said.

Winslow nodded.

“Anubis.”

Winslow gave me a disgusted look. “You really need to brush up on your Egyptian mythology, Jonathan. I’m calling forth the adoptive father of Anubis.”

“I don’t know who that is,” I said, but as I spoke, the magic solidified, and I saw the green-skinned god of the Underworld holding a crook in one hand and a flail in the other. He wore all white, including his crown.

“Osiris,” Winslow said.

“The dickless god. Great.”

Osiris rose up and stood ten feet tall. He drew a deep breath, and the winds blew toward him.

Everyone fell silent.

Aye stared at the god, transfixed.

Winslow, who was the only one who heard my dickless comment, shook his head. “Isis gave him a wooden phallus.”

“And that’s where we coined the phrase ‘got wood’?”

“You throw out jests, but I suspect that’s simply to cover your fears.”

Great. A sorcerer thinks he needs to psychoanalyze me before a big fight. What pissed me off most was the fact that he was right. What the hell could I do to stop a god? Especially when my hands were tied—literally.

Osiris turned and spotted Kelly floating in the air toward him.

He extended his crook, caught hold of her leg, and pulled her down. She appeared to be sleeping, but at least she wasn’t bound.

“What’s he doing?”

“He needs more magic. He’ll pull it from the other wizards through your friend.”