Chapter 5 The Hidden Library #3
Zahra studied the purple sandglass in the painting further.
If only she could figure out why her father was stealing the Thoth, it would be easier to stop him from stealing it at all.
She glanced at Namir. He wouldn’t willingly volunteer more information about the Thoth.
It had been a wonder why he had brought her along at all, when all she had done was hold things for him.
Zahra focused on the markings on the old papyrus. She couldn’t remember the name of the language—it had been many years since her father discussed ancient languages at depth with her—but she recalled a few of the glyphs.
“Sun. Moon,” she muttered. There was a glyph that she did not know the meaning of, and yet she couldn’t shake the feeling she had seen it somewhere before.
Namir looked up at her with surprised eyes. “How do you know Badari?”
“Is that what it’s called?” Zahra asked, forgetting her task. She remembered now that Badari was the language of the people from which the Aurans descended, though it had not been used for many, many years. “My father has a passion for ancient languages. He taught me a few words when I was young.”
Before Namir could inquire further, Zahra pointed to a robed individual within the sphere of the first queen to host a Pa-sekhemty Feast. “Who is that?”
Namir sighed, following her gaze to the papyrus. “That is the Hem-netjer. When the spell begins, the Hem-netjer is appointed to help if anything should go wrong.”
Zahra waited a moment before she spoke. “Something has gone wrong.”
“Yes,” Namir agreed, “but Zosar—I mean, the Hem-netjer—has not been able to help.”
Zahra raised an eyebrow. “But if it’s his job to—”
“He does not understand,” Namir interrupted. “He thinks I can find her and I—” He rolled up the scroll and stood from his seat. “I already know all of this. I came here to find something of use.”
Zahra eyed the papyrus. “Is the Thoth here? Perhaps if you interacted with it—”
“It is not here.” Namir took the oil lamp from her hand. “And the spell does not work like that. Yes, when the spell began, I had to hold it, but holding it again has done nothing to help.”
“Then we should speak to the Hem-netjer.” She knew from her father that the Hem-netjer—the high priest of Re—was a man of immense power. “Perhaps if you explained more of what happened the night you lost her—”
Namir groaned, disappearing behind the shelves. “No, it will not work. He cannot help.”
“My King,” Zahra said, exasperated. “I can’t help you if you shut down my every suggestion. If you will not listen to my ideas, why did you ask me to help you?”
“I—” He grunted in frustration, knocking some objects off the shelves.
Zahra shut her mouth, and silence filled the room. After a few moments, Namir began sifting through the mess he had created on the floor.
Zahra sighed, collapsing into the chair he had abandoned. If she couldn’t convince him to go to the Hem-netjer, she would miss her chance to see her father. What was she to do if he stole the Thoth again?
The King himself was also a mystery. Zahra was frustrated at his secrecy, and she wished to be of more help than a servant would, but what did she have to offer?
Zahra glanced over at the shelves he hid behind.
The King, it seemed, knew not what he wanted her to do.
Perhaps he did not want her to do anything but be there.
If what he said was true, not even his own sister knew of his predicament, and it appeared that Namir had tried hard to keep it that way.
Why else had he silenced Zahra in front of the Vizier earlier?
He was embarrassed, she concluded, and starving for companionship, even if it was the companionship of an Ionian servant.
Zahra’s gaze caught hold of something on the floor.
Across the way, by one of the shelves they had inspected, sat a small piece of papyrus.
She glanced at Namir, who was still busy cleaning his mess.
She crawled across the floor on her knees and picked up the papyrus.
It was old, its edges flaking. Upon it was writing in the Badari language.
Most of it Zahra couldn’t understand, but she once again saw the glyphs for sun and moon despite the little light that came from Namir’s oil lamp.
She flipped the papyrus over. There were illustrations of the Pharaohs’ symbols, the most notable being two tall crowns.
Smaller than all of the others were two symbols.
One was distinctly similar to the mark on Namir’s chest. It was a circular disk filled with black ink and circled about by a gold outline.
The other mark was a pair of golden wings, which had an empty space within them, the shape and size of the circular disk.
Namir stood suddenly, making Zahra jump. “Come here. Come see this.”
Zahra, intrigued, got to her feet and joined his side, leaving the papyrus on the table. Namir handed her a brittle piece of papyrus, holding the oil lamp nearby so she could clearly see it.
The papyrus had endured well for its age, but the text was in a language she didn’t expect. “This is Ionic. Why is this here?”
Namir shrugged, twisting an object in his hand. It was a brilliant silver ring with a shimmering white crystal embedded within the metal on one end.
Zahra turned back to the papyrus. In the lower right-hand corner was a sketch of the ring Namir now had in his possession. Though there were some words she did not understand, Zahra sounded out the text under her breath. Namir stared at her expectantly.
The crystal was moonstone. Her mother had made jewelry with moonstone. Zahra’s people believed that the stone was precious: a tear from Selene. “It’s about sibyls. According to this, they were prophetesses of Selene, or Nebthet. They possessed great powers and prevented wars through her guidance.”
“I knew that already.” Namir crossed his arms. “There was another papyrus with a lengthy explanation of how they helped Aur during some great war centuries ago, but I wish to know what the ring is.”
Zahra sighed, continuing to examine the papyrus. There were sketches of hooded women, each bearing Selene’s symbol on her head: a crescent moon. The same symbol was engraved on the back of her necklace.
Zahra swallowed, and her chest grew tight. Her father’s words echoed through her mind. Dark magic.
“This ring—it’s meant to summon one of Nebthet’s servants so that they can offer her guidance and protection to the ring’s bearer.” She paused, fingering the edges of the papyrus. “The next part I can read, but I don’t understand.”
“What do you mean?” Namir asked. “Can you not translate it?”
Zahra shook her head. “The characters are letters I know, but they don’t form real words. It’s gibberish.”
Namir shifted on his feet, panic in his eyes. “There must be some meaning.”
Zahra shook her head, holding it out for him to take. “I am sorry, my King. I can’t tell you what the words mean.”
“Then read it to me in your language,” he pleaded, desperate. “If the sibyls have power as you said, then one of them could help me.”
Zahra clutched her necklace, letting the papyrus hang between them. “We don’t know what this is, or if the sibyls are what the record says. This could be…” She paused, hesitating.
Namir raised his eyebrows, as if asking her to continue.
“Dark magic,” she finished quietly.
Namir stared for a moment before a slow smile stretched across his face. He chuckled. “I do not think there is any of that here.”
Zahra avoided his eyes, gritting her teeth as she answered, “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Come now,” Namir said, taking the papyrus. She turned away, but he followed her and stepped in her path. “If the sibyls serve Nebthet, they cannot be malicious.”
Zahra raised her head, echoing her father’s words. “There are things of the netjeru we don’t tamper with.”
Namir’s brows lowered, and he stepped forward, holding the papyrus out toward her. “I only need you to teach me how to say the words.”
Zahra turned away, folding her arms. “I will not do it.”
“Do not forget our agreement.” Namir’s voice came bold and loud.
Zahra clenched her jaw. Her father had warned her of magic. She knew what happened to those that dabbled in magic that was not of Re. But she was not using magic. She was not a sorceress. And Namir was the King. Surely, if she helped him with this, it would be fine.
Zahra sighed, snatching the papyrus from Namir’s hand and walking away. She studied the letters and then turned to him. “I will read it only once, so you’d best listen. Do you understand?”
Namir grinned and nodded. “I am ready.”
“Then let us begin.” Zahra sucked in a deep breath, holding the papyrus near the candle.
The words moved under her gaze, crawling across the page toward her fingers.
She blinked and shook her head, and the words returned to their proper place.
She began to read. As she did so, Namir copied her, trying his best to mimic her pronunciation and syllables.
Despite her reluctance, she corrected his pronunciation, until he could say the words properly.
Namir took the papyrus, holding the ring in his hand as he spoke the words. Zahra held the oil lamp and watched in amazement as Ionic flowed smoothly from his tongue.
His black eyes flitted to hers. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” she said, smiling.
His eyes brightened for a moment, and he turned his focus back to the papyrus.
Zahra placed the oil lamp in a small metal holder on the wall, and she turned back to the room. She sighed, walking back over to the chair. She would surely miss her father now.
Light from the fire reflected off of the silver band as Namir slipped it onto his finger, and the moonstone shimmered as he repeated the words she had taught him.
As Zahra placed her hand on the back of the chair, Namir’s words echoed in the space.
His voice vibrated up her shoulders, penetrating her mind.
She stumbled sideways into a shelf, overcome with a sensation that she couldn’t comprehend or explain.
Her chest was on fire, and her head felt as if it was splitting open.
A piece of pottery fell off the shelf as she lifted her hands to her head. Voices surrounded her, but she couldn’t tell who was speaking to her or from where. Harsh wind filled her ears, as if she herself was screaming.
The sensations vanished instantly. Zahra kept her eyes closed, breathing in deeply. After a moment, she opened her eyes. She was standing in a different spot in the room, her surroundings out of focus and gray. She whipped around, but all she saw was darkness.
Namir was gone.