Chapter 5 The Hidden Library #2
“Nothing,” Nubia answered cheerfully. “I was reading when I heard you had arrived. I was surprised. I thought you would be preparing to find your bride.” Her eyes narrowed with a teasing smile. “Or have you already chosen?”
The Vizier knew of the day repeating? Zahra opened her mouth to speak, and Namir’s face filled with panic. He quickly grabbed a scroll and stuffed it in Zahra’s mouth. “I need this one, too.”
Zahra coughed, spitting out the scroll onto the pile in her arms. Her eyes watered from the sudden taste of ink.
“It is the first night, Nubia,” Namir said in a hushed voice, as if this would prevent Zahra from hearing. “I am allowed to rest, too, you know. I have an unlimited amount of time to choose the future queen.”
Nubia narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing every inch of Namir’s face. She pursed her lips. “I suppose so.” She smiled and patted his shoulder. “Choose well, will you, brother? I would love another woman to converse with at home.”
Namir smiled softly. “I will do my best, Nubia.”
Nubia grinned and turned her gaze to Zahra, who was still getting the taste of papyrus and ink out of her mouth. “It was so nice to speak with you…”
“Zahra,” she managed, swallowing a flake of papyrus in the process. “It was an honor to speak with you, Vizier.”
Nubia nodded to Zahra, winked at Namir, and disappeared down the stairs.
“She is nice.” Zahra tilted her head when Namir’s shoulders slumped and he turned back to the shelf. “And she knows about the day repeating.”
Namir shot her a look. “Hush. If anyone hears—”
Zahra lowered her voice. “I was only curious why you wouldn’t let me speak to her. Does she also remember?”
“Of course not.” Namir sighed. “She knows of the Thoth and the power it wields, but only the center of the spell—king or queen—can remember what has happened in previous versions of the day.” He regarded her with suspicion. “As well as you, for some reason.” He pushed more scrolls onto her.
Zahra let them fall. “My hands are full.”
He looked disapprovingly at her mess but did not fight her. His hand brushed the back of the stone shelf, his fingers latching onto an invisible edge. Using both hands, he pulled out a slab of stone, which revealed a small opening. His hand disappeared inside.
Zahra stood on her toes, trying to see better. After fishing around for a moment, Namir pulled out a small scroll. He replaced the slab and unrolled the papyrus. It was blank, but a key sat within it, tied down by string.
“What is that?” Zahra asked as Namir began stuffing the scrolls in place.
“A key.”
Zahra stared at the ceiling, gathering her patience. Frustration laced her tone as she turned to him. “A key to where?”
Namir leaned over her with a smirk, grabbing the scrolls from her arms. His breath was warm, and heat rose in her cheeks. “A place no Ionian has seen.”
Below the first floor sat a cold area littered with scarab beetles, wolf spiders, old stone tables, and an assortment of random junk left to collect dust. Namir grabbed a small oil lamp and led the way.
Zahra rubbed her arms, an uneasy feeling working its way into her chest as she followed Namir into the darkness.
The oil lamp was dim, and there were no windows to light the space.
A soft squeal left her throat as something darted by her foot.
She imagined the patterned scales of a cobra in the darkness and walked faster to stay on Namir’s heels.
“S—So,” Zahra began, desperate for anything to keep her mind off of what could be lurking in the darkness. “Is Menes your real name?”
Namir glanced back at her. “It is not my true name, but it is what I am called as King.”
Zahra remembered the Auran tradition. While the Aurans believed in Re, they also believed in other netjeru, such as Nebthet or Djehuty.
The worst of the netjeru, the one that Re trapped in the deepest part of the world, was Apep—a malevolent serpent with a craving for chaos and destruction.
Namir’s people believed that if Apep were to know their names, he could control them and use them against Re.
Each Auran was thus given two names: a public name and a true name.
Zahra quickened her pace, struggling to keep up with Namir as he turned a corner. Strangely enough, he had three. “Why did you introduce yourself as Namir?”
“I do not recall doing that.”
Zahra noticed the annoyance in his tone, but she couldn’t bear the silence of the maze they were walking through. “My apologies. Yesterday, you introduced yourself as Namir.”
He paused, and Zahra threw her arms out as she slid to a stop.
“I suppose I did.” The hallway grew colder as Namir turned to her.
Sternness sat in his features. “Namir is my name, yes, but let me remind you that I am still your king. I told you my name because it was necessary. Even though we are working together, you will address me with my title. Is that understood?”
Zahra stared into Namir’s black eyes. Feelings of terror and anger fought within her, but she shoved both away. “I understand, my King.”
“Good.” Namir resumed his course.
Another set of stairs awaited them, leading them further into the earth. She rubbed her arms, eager to escape the cold and darkness.
Namir turned down a hallway, and they were met with a dead end.
He handed the oil lamp to Zahra and approached the wall.
She remained silent as he placed his palm on the wall, running his hand along the cold stone.
After several moments of inspection, he removed the key from the scroll, slipped it between the stones, and turned it.
The wall jolted and groaned, and Namir latched his fingers onto an invisible edge.
He pulled the wall out, revealing a heavy metal door with a complicated lock.
Namir took the oil lamp from Zahra and held it under the open scroll, which hung loosely from one hand.
Then, he started moving the pieces of the lock.
Zahra stepped forward, peeking past Namir’s tall frame. The papyrus, which had been blank earlier, was alive with color. Instructions and pictures of how to get past the lock’s mechanism detailed the page. “Incredible,” she whispered.
Namir shot her a warning glance, and Zahra stepped back. He moved the last part of the lock, and there was a click. He pushed open the door, revealing a well-lit room.
Zahra stepped inside after him, her eyes wide with wonder.
The ten-by-ten-foot room was filled with old stone shelves covered in scrolls and random objects.
Most of the shelves sat against or close to the wall and held an assortment of papyri and stone records.
In a corner stood a shelf containing stone boxes enforced with metal locks.
The floors were littered with ancient embroidered carpets.
In the center of the space sat a hardy stone table covered in gray dust.
Namir was curiously studying her face. He cleared his throat and turned away once she saw him, holding out the oil lamp for her to take. “I will need extra light over here.”
Zahra let out a heavy sigh, took the oil lamp, and followed him. She studied the shelves with interest as she followed Namir. “What is this place?”
“A collection of information and artifacts passed down since the first Pharaohs,” Namir explained, picking up a scroll. He read it for a few moments before shaking his head and returning it to its place. “If there is a way to find my bride through magic, I will find it here.”
Zahra’s chest grew tight, and her voice came out small. “Magic?”
Namir glanced at her. “Do not act so surprised. It is common knowledge that the Pharaohs use magic to protect the kingdom.”
“Yes, but—”
Zahra bit her tongue. There were stories of Pharaohs of past using Re’s magic to protect the people, but those stories were centuries old. It was hard to imagine the current Pharaoh Queen using it, and it terrified Zahra to think of what magical secrets could be hidden in these walls.
Namir scoured the shelves. He plucked scroll after scroll from its place, but promptly put each back as he quickly read the contents.
Finally, he pulled out a frail scroll. As he opened it, two pieces of papyrus fell.
Namir caught one of them, but the other floated out of sight, and he did not move to chase it.
The papyrus he had caught was newer than the scroll that contained it. Zahra peeked over his shoulder. She narrowed her eyes at the faint scribbles of Hieratic—Aur’s script. “The Last Gift of Re.”
Namir turned to her, his eyebrows raised. “You can read?”
Zahra scoffed. “Of course I can.”
“I am surprised,” Namir said. “I thought your people could only read Ionic.”
Zahra gritted her teeth, stepping back. “We are capable of learning to read other things.” Namir raised his eyebrows, and bitterness laced her voice as she added, “My King.”
Namir ignored her tone and turned back to the old scroll. “It tells the same tale I told you about Re’s gift to the Pharaohs.”
Zahra leaned forward once more. The newer papyrus appeared to be a translation of the original writing, which was in a different language and much older.
Among the original writings were pictures.
The paintings depicted the story Namir had told her.
Re, who had the head of a falcon and bore a crown like the sun, held out a purple sandglass for a man and woman to take, both ordained with the symbols of Pharaoh.
This proved what she already knew: Her father had stolen the Thoth.
Namir moved to the table, and Zahra followed, keen on learning more.
She watched over his shoulder as he studied the translation and the original work.
The illustrations continued down the papyrus, showing the Thoth being handed down for generations.
Illustrations of kings and queens were shown, each dancing in a sphere of worthy women or men.
Within each, there was a woman or man outlined in gold, with her or his gaze focused on the royal couple.