One
I don't belong here...
A lulling in my heart beckons me every time I close my eyes. Even in dreams, it follows me. Slumber wraps its arms around me, luring me from reality, and every time I open my eyes again, I find myself in the arms of a man. I can feel him against me, so vividly...
What a strange sensation...
We stand on the back of the Sphinx, in the shadow of the pyramids. The wind kisses my cheeks and tangerine light streaks the sky as the sun sets behind the canyons. I turn my face into his chest to listen to his heart, pounding like the blood that pulses in my ears. His arms around me are strong but hesitant.
He doesn't want me to see him.
Three years ago, the night of my father's funeral, was the first time we met. He pulled me up into his arms from the sheets that were tossed while I slept fitfully into the night. I cried into his shoulder while he whispered consoling words into my ear. He comforted me, held me, stroked my hair. I cried into him, all of my torment coming out in broken and jagged sobs.
After that first night, the mysterious man came to me whenever Dad's memory would lull me into a fitful slumber. As time passed and I began to sleep more peacefully, he visited more often. I awakened in his arms as he embraced me. Obediently, I kept my head against his chest every time he came to me. I wanted to gaze into his face, I wanted to kiss his lips, I wanted to say I love you.
Tonight, I'll defy the dream. I'll look at him.
I lift my chin, but he becomes basked in a golden light, showered by the sun, obscuring my vision as I glance up.
I raise my hand to caress his cheek, finding only warm air where his skin should have been. "Let me see you," I plead. Silence greets me as the light showers us. "Show yourself to me, please. I love you." He fades from view as the dream ends.
My eyes flutter open. I wipe away the fresh tears springing on my lashes. "These dreams are my only comfort these days."
I reach for my cell phone on my nightstand. It lights up and I scroll through my text messages with Claire. "I need you, Kara. I want to finish Bob's work. I want to find Ahmose's tomb. Come to Egypt and help me."
The thought of going to Egypt without Dad makes my heart ache. I clutch the phone to my chest. I climb out of bed and walk over to my suitcases packed by the door. I glance at the photo on my bookshelf. In its studded wooden frame, a photo of Dad, Claire, and some of the archaeologists from their team gaze back at me, the pyramids of Giza looming over them in the background. I wrap the photo in one of my blouses to protect it as I place it in the last suitcase and zip it up. I dress and brush my hair and quickly apply some eyeliner and mascara.
Patricia walks me out of our beautiful Georgia mansion and to the Uber that waits out front. Oak trees tower over us on each side of the driveway, casting huge shadows that loom over us.
"Do you have everything you need?" she asks in her sweet southern voice.
"I believe so," I reply, and gloomily look up at my bedroom window overlooking a balcony.
"I'll take care of the house while you are gone. Be careful, and have Claire call me when you get there," Patricia says. She embraces me and I climb into the Uber, waving to her as it drives away.
***
The plane lands and my stomach jitters like butterflies at the thought of seeing Clair. The flight to Egypt was long and exhausting, even though I did little more than sleep and read Jennifer Crum's latest novel.
She waits for me in the lobby as I come down the aisle. She runs up to me and throws her arms around me. "Has it really been three years since I've seen you?" she asks. Her long blonde hair hangs in loose curls around her shoulders. Her blue eyes twinkle as she smiles. "You must be exhausted. Come along. Let's go home."
We arrive at Claire's apartment and she shows me to my room. I drop my suitcases in front of the closet and open one to pull out my photo. I place it on the shelf overlooking my bed. Clair notices it and gazes into the wooden frame.
"King Ahmose," she breathes. I glance at her as her face softens into a thoughtful expression. "He was all Bob spoke of that last year he was in Egypt before the heart attack claimed his life. He believed there was a royal tomb to be discovered, one that was more intact than Tutankhamun's. I disagreed because there was no evidence to support him, and he was driving our work based on a whim. I couldn't have been more wrong.
Bob made headlines in Egyptology months before he died when he uncovered a mysterious slab of rock bearing the name of a pharaoh Egypt had forgotten. "Robert Walker Discovers the Tablet Belonging to A Mysterious Pharaoh," one headline read. Once the tablet was discovered, Bob convinced the Head of Antiquities in Cairo to fund a dig for the mysterious pharaoh. King Ahmose II, the pharaoh lost to Egypt, was buried somewhere in the Valley of the Kings, and Bob was determined to find him. But your father pushed himself too hard, working long days, and spending many restless nights trying to decipher the mysteries concealed by the tablet.
Ahmose's tomb eluded discovery, always remaining just out of reach, and Bob's dream perished with him. Kara, I am meeting with the Council this evening. I have to convince them we are close to finding the tomb. If they doubt our progress, they may not fund the dig anymore. The diggers won't work for us if we can't pay them. And we certainly can't dig the tomb out ourselves...it would take years."
"We'll find the tomb," I promise.
"I hope you're right," she says.
"I have some errands to run before my meeting. I'll see you later at the museum," she says and leaves the room. Her perfume wafts behind her as she closes the door.
I decide to unpack later, so I fall into the soft pillows on my bed to rest my heavy eyes. Though I'm exhausted from the thirteen-hour flight, I want to be in the arms of my mysterious visitor once again.
He doesn't come tonight.
***
I head to the museum with Clair. She paces the room nervously, whispering her speech to herself. I admire the old photographs hanging on the whitewashed walls as I sit in an isolated corner in the back.
The door suddenly opens, and people crowd into the room one by one. Clair stands at the front, turning on the overhead projector and opening her presentation on her I-Pad. She isn't just nervous; she's terrified.
I was also afraid the Council would cut the funds, and all of their hard work would go to waste. As each member took a seat, they all wore the same mask of doubt in their expressions.
Once the crowd had settled themselves into their seats, I saw Dr. Malek, the Head of Antiquities, had seated himself in the front. From the scornful glint in his eyes, he was ready to disprove Father's theories, and tear Clair's presentation apart. He had been against the search for Ahmose's tomb since Father had discovered his mysterious tablet three years ago, but the majority of the assembly had voted in favor of the search. Perhaps they were just as hopeful that there were still secrets buried within the valley.
Two men came into the room carrying the tablet itself. It remained in its glass case, safe and secure as they sat it on the table behind Clair. They left the room and Clair began to speak.
"Three years ago my brother, Dr. Robert Walker, discovered the tablet of the mysterious King Ahmose II. The discovery of this tablet in the Valley of the Kings has been the biggest discovery in Egyptology since King Tutankhamun's tomb in 1922. Other than this remarkable slab of rock, there is no trace of Ahmose's existence, and the discovery of his tomb is bound to reveal so many secrets. Intriguingly, his name was left off the list of pharaohs at Abydos, and there is no record of him on any monument; it was as if he never existed, save for this tablet. Much of the hieroglyphics on the tablet have been lost to time, but we have made discoveries with what is left."
"You have learned nothing from the tablet. You have only created more theories and raised more questions," Dr. Malek interrupted.
Clair continued, "That's true, but we have evidence to support these theories. We now believe Ahmose lived during the eighteenth dynasty, and was the son of Thutmosis II and Hatshepsut, and the half-brother of Thutmosis III. In fact, it was near Thutmosis III's tomb where Dr. Walker discovered this tablet."
"Is it not plausible that Ahmose was a pseudonym Thutmosis used?" asked a woman behind Dr. Malek.
"No, I don't believe that is the case. If so, why not use it more often? That particular cartouche is found only on this tablet. Interestingly, Hatshepsut's name had also been removed from many of her monuments in an attempt to erase her legacy. Perhaps her son was a victim of the same cover up?" Clair explained.
Dr. Malek scribbled something on his writing pad, and countered, "Ms. Walker, besides this tablet, can you provide the Council with any evidence or documentation of Ahmose's existence?"
Clair hesitated, her cheeks flushing scarlet. She hated it whenever someone referred to her as miss instead of doctor, her appropriate title. She gripped her I-Pad, her knuckles white as ivory. Her blue eyes darkened and her lips pulled into a thin line. "No," she answered. "The tablet is the only documentation of Ahmose ever discovered."
"This is a waste of good labor and money! We need to stop chasing ghosts, and pursue activities of more recent interest. All of the money we have wasted searching for a king who never existed we could have invested in the search for Cleopatra. We believe we may have stumbled upon her grave in Taposiris Magna. Ms. Walker, abandon this Ahmose nonsense and join us in the search for the lost queen. I believe you are a well accomplished Egyptologist, and will be valuable to our team."
I could listen no more. I got up from my chair and quietly crept out of the room as the Council grasped the remnants of Father's dream and tore it to shreds.
It was twilight; my only guide was a flashlight and the light of the horizon. I wandered the halls of Karnak, the remains of what was once the greatest temple ever built. The colorful paint had faded from the walls and pillars long ago, and the temple now lay in ruins, a constant reminder of the great culture that had once inhabited this land.
My mind was heavy with doubt and grief. This expedition had been Father's greatest mission. He had been so determined in searching for the lost king, convinced he was hidden somewhere deep in the valley. But if the funds were cut now, we could never continue digging. We needed the museum to fund our expedition for a little while longer, but even if they agreed, it could take years to find the tomb. The Council had already grown tired of the search, doubting the tomb's existence.
But it had to exist. We had the tablet of Ahmose; he had existed at one time, reigning over Egypt for a short while. But he was lost to history, forgotten to time, removed from Egypt like a plague.
A soft coo carried on the wind echoed to me in the ruins, and I turned to see a lone falcon resting upon a broken pillar. The falcon, a sacred animal of the ancient past, had been a representation of Ra to the Egyptians. It was as if Ra had entered the room, spreading his wings and gazing upon me with his golden eyes. It captured my gaze with its intense eyes, never wavering, not even when I approached it. Only when I shined my light on it did it flap its wings and take off down the hall. Its soft coo captured my heart, and for some reason, I felt the need to follow it. I sped after it as it flew into the hall of Thutmosis III and landed in the lap of a statue that sat alone in a corner.
The falcon cooed again, and I followed its gaze to the smashed face of the statue whose name had been chipped away from the base so it could not be deciphered. And as the falcon cooed one last time, a single name came to my mind: Ahmose. Ahmose was connected to Thutmosis and Hatshepsut somehow. I wondered if this had been his statue, if he had stood in this very place long ago during his life. I reached out to touch the broken face of the statue.
Ahmose must have been hated. Someone wanted to rid Egypt of him, destroy his monuments, and remove his name from temple walls. But if he was such a horrid man, why did my heart ache with so much sympathy for him?
"What did you do?" I whispered to the faceless statue, as if it were Ahmose himself. "What did you do that would warrant such a harsh punishment? To be forgotten by the people who were to adore and revere you?"
Footfalls came down the passage, and my hand dropped from the face of the statue when I heard Clair's soft voice call my name from the corridor. I shined my flashlight out of the hall so she could find me.
"Kara, I found the note you left me. Did you take a cab here all alone? You should have waited for me, it's not safe to travel the city alone at night," she said gently. I could hear in her voice the exhaustion that weighed on her shoulders. She had battled the Council for Father's dream, but had she been successful? "The meeting with the Council didn't go as well as I had hoped," she began. I could sense the agitation in her tone, and so I braced myself for bad news. "But they have agreed to fund this expedition for one more year. Kara, we're going to have to work like mad if we're going to find this tomb in time." We still had time; a small chance of opportunity to uncover the tomb. But archaeology was a very difficult science. I knew as well as Clair it could take years, maybe more, to find his tomb; that is, if it even existed. After all, we had little to nothing to go by. Our only evidence of him was a slab of rock that now rested in the museum. What if we couldn't find it in a year?
"I know he's out there," I said against a warm breeze. My eyes remained firm on the vacant face of the statue. "I'm going to find him somehow. I'll never stop searching until I do." She placed an encouraging hand on my shoulder.
"Someone has to," she sighed. "It's late. We should go home now. We are both exhausted. Work begins tomorrow in Luxor." The Valley of the Kings.
Clair headed out of the corridor, and I paused to glance back at the lone statue once more. I shined the light into the vacant face, devoid of eyes, a nose, lips, any resemblance to that of a human being. The rest of the statue was perfectly formed, proud and magnificent as the day it was sculpted. Its color had faded and washed away over time, but traces of blue could be seen in the Nemes headdress that draped his head, and reddish orange tinted his arms and chest.
"I'll find you," I promised, before leaving the hall.