Chapter 13
Karim
Karim was still working in that same spot when Sita arrived, weighed down like a donkey with tools and supplies.
“Is it true? Did you and Aya really find something?” she asked, pink-cheeked and panting.
“It’s true!” Karim said, getting to his feet. “Here, let me help you with all that.” He lifted the packs from her shoulders and set them on the ground. “Where is the young sena?”
“I sent her to fetch a jug of fresh water. I thought we’d need it.”
“Right. Well, I’m glad you’re here.”
Unexpectedly alone with the princess, Karim wasn’t sure whether to kiss or embrace her or do nothing at all.
Had she only kissed him that night because it was expected of a husband and wife, and because everyone had been watching?
It had felt real…but maybe Karim had been imagining something that wasn’t really there.
Sita looked away, suddenly very concerned about the state of her hair. Finally, she broke the tension and said, “Show me this great discovery of yours!”
Karim led her to the half-buried statue.
Sita identified the figure straightaway. “That’s Nepthys, goddess of the night and childbirth. You can tell it’s her because of her distinctive headdress—a house with a basket on top.” She smiled faintly, then added, “Supposedly, she is the goddess who named my brother Mery.”
“Is that so?” Karim asked, unconvinced.
“If you believe the stories. But why include a statue of her here? I thought Setnakht worshipped Set alone, forsaking all other gods. Unless…”
Sita squatted behind the statue, squinting at the words written there. “‘Nepthys,’” she read. “‘Lady of the House. Sister of Isis. Mother of Anubis. Beloved of Set.”
“She’s Set’s wife!” Karim exclaimed.
Sita nodded. “That must be the connection. Do you see the position of her body? Kneeling, with one palm facing herself? That’s the traditional gesture of a mourning woman.
It makes sense to see Nepthys depicted this way, because among her other titles, she was also a protector of the dead.
” Sita stood, and her brow furrowed. “But what dead is she protecting? There are no tombs here.”
Karim grabbed Sita’s hand and pulled her toward the place he’d been working. “Ah, but princess, I think there are.”
When Sita saw what he’d uncovered, she gasped. “Is that—?”
“An entrance to an underground structure? Yes, I think it is. And if I’m right, it’s big. Very big.”
Sita knelt in front of the large rectangular stone that was set into the ground, and traced her fingers across the writing engraved there.
“‘All that begins starts in darkness; and all that ends returns there. Night is the mother of all things. May I ever rest in her arms, among the imperishable stars.’” She turned to Karim.
“This sounds like a prayer for a mortuary temple. It’s one thing to dig out a valley wall for a tomb, but quite another to erect an entire temple underground. It’s impossible, isn’t it?”
Karim took up a large copper chisel and held it out to her. “Only one way to find out.”
Sita bit her lip, hesitating.
Karim chuckled. “Your gods led us here, sena. I think they’ll forgive a bit of heresy, just this once.”
Sita suppressed a smile and took the chisel. “You know, you’re pretty smart…for a dog.”
“I’m going to tell Behkai you said that,” Karim replied. “He’ll be very upset with you.”
“No, he knows I hold him in high esteem.”
“He’ll drool all over you.”
“Only because he likes me.”
Karim raised an eyebrow. Something else the dog and I have in common.
Sita smirked. “So? Where do we start?”
Using his hammer, Karim helped Sita wedge the chisel between the slab and the top of the stone structure.
After that, they were able to insert another chisel into the opening, and they worked together to raise the slab enough to slip a rope underneath it.
Then, with the slab propped above its frame, they dug in their heels and heaved at the rope, pulling with bursts of force until the stone slid aside, revealing a dark portal beneath.
Dripping with sweat, the sun beating down on his head, Karim dropped the rope and squatted to peer into the abyss. “There are stone steps leading underground. At least we won’t need ropes to lower ourselves inside.” He stood and slung his pack of supplies over one shoulder.
Sita didn’t move. She stared down into the hole, her face unreadable.
“Are you all right, sena?” Karim asked.
Sita swallowed, then bent to retrieve the other pack. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”
Using his bow drill, Karim lit the torch and took the first cautious step down. The torchlight illuminated the stone steps ahead, but he could not see where they led.
They descended slowly, and before long, the square of daylight behind them shrank to a pinprick.
It was all so familiar: the cool darkness, the quiet, the muted aroma of old and forgotten things. It made Karim think of his life before—his family, his tribe. Djet. Suddenly, he felt as if the boy was at his side again, whispering excitedly in his ear.
What do you think is in there, hey?
“Answers, I hope,” Karim murmured.
“Did you say something?” Sita asked from behind him.
“Just talking to myself.” He squinted into the gloom. “I think we’re close to the bottom. I see a landing ahead.”
Once he reached the landing, Karim stepped out into an open chamber.
Although it was difficult to see beyond the small circle of firelight, the shadows of monoliths loomed above him.
Karim could feel the vastness of the space in the air, could hear it in the way his breath broke the stillness. A chill ran up his spine.
He swept his torch around him and saw what looked like two parallel trenches built into the stone floor, each about a hand’s breadth wide, that ran straight into the darkness ahead.
Each trench was filled with what appeared to be animal fat, with a thick rope set along the middle, as if placed there while the fat was liquid hot.
In all his travels, Karim had never seen anything like it. Could it be what I think it is? he wondered. Curious, Karim lowered his torch to the tip of one rope and set it aflame.
The effect was instantaneous.
Karim laughed, delighted, and lit the second channel.
Twin trails of fire blazed forward from where Karim and Sita stood, racing into the distance, illuminating everything along the way.
They were standing at the end of an enormous columned hall, the ceiling so high above them that it remained lost in darkness.
Every surface boasted pictures painted in red and black and gold: sharp-beaked vultures, sycamore trees, and dark-eyed women who watched Karim with eerie intensity.
Many of the columns were cracked and leaning, and bits of loose stone littered the ground.
It was as Karim had thought: Over time, the underground structure had shifted and sunk, causing the earth above it to sink too.
Arched doorways—so many that Karim lost count—ran along both sides of the hall.
Sita gasped and raised a hand to her mouth. “By Amun, I’ve never seen its equal.”
Karim whistled. “I’m accustomed to cramped tombs with no more than four chambers. There must be hundreds of rooms in this place! It would take days, perhaps weeks, to explore each passage. What are we going to do?”
Sita shrugged. “What else? Start at the beginning.” She strode past him toward the first door on their left, inspecting the wall paintings as she went.
Karim meant to follow her, but he found himself rooted in place. A strange, familiar sensation overtook him, just as it had on that plateau in the desert. As if instructed by an unseen force, he fell to his knees, leaned forward, and touched his forehead to the ground.
Faintly, he heard Sita call to him. “Come over here. There’s something you should see…”
Karim sat up, and time shifted. Around him, the broken columns were restored, and the fire burned more brightly, filling the hall with dazzling light.
Red-robed priests flowed in and out of the archways carrying all manner of items, and the chamber echoed with hymns chanted in the name of Set.
Karim could hear the words being spoken on his own lips, though not with his voice, and when the hymn was finished, he felt himself rise to his feet.
He towered over the priest standing beside him.
“Is the temple to your satisfaction, my king?” the priest asked.
Karim heard himself say, “It is as I envisioned. Tell me: How many of my acolytes perished constructing it?”
The priest pressed a finger to his mouth. “At least a hundred, my king. Perhaps more. I’d have to refer to my records to be precise.”
The deep voice said, “Make sure they are all entombed here, in the arms of Mother Night. They died in her service and shall be rewarded in the Duat. Save the largest chamber for my beloved. For as Set tore his betrayer into fourteen pieces, so the seventh door to the seventh door shall lead to the house of my queen.”
Sita’s voice sliced through the vision like a knife. “Karim! Are you coming?”
Karim heard that deep voice say one final prayer as the scene vanished around him. “May she live forever in the West.”
Karim gasped. He was prostrate on the floor, bathed in a cold sweat, his heart hammering.
Sita stood over him, concerned. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
Karim stumbled to his feet. “No, sena. I…” He hesitated. He hadn’t shared the vision he’d had in the desert. He’d been too afraid.
But he couldn’t keep the truth to himself any longer.
He pressed a hand against the scarab-shaped scar on his chest. “The amulet…my heart…I think it’s imprinted with Setnakht’s memories. When I stand in certain places, places where he himself stood long ago, I can see what happened there through his eyes.”
Sita stared at him. “That is powerful magic.”
Karim licked his lips. “It is as if I am in his body, watching events from a thousand years ago.”
“How many times has this happened?”