Iseret's note on the letter had indicated they would find the tomb in the place where the people of Waset had buried their dead since times immemorial—the West Bank. When Metjen examined the row of hills rising behind the fields he wondered whether he might have underestimated the task at hand.
Rani-Ra joined him, shading her eyes with her hands.'You explained this all before, but quite honestly I can't see how we'll ever find anything.'
Trueth sat in the back of their rented Jeep, legs clad in black linen trousers dangling from the open door. 'My thoughts entirely.' A pale hand showed, waving a guidebook. 'See, this thing says they've dug up every inch of both the valleys, Kings and Queens, and it's unlikely that somebody's tomb could still be hidden there.'
'Unlikely does not mean impossible,' Ranofer said from the passenger seat, swigging karkadi from his Thermos.
Metjen felt his sun-flow rising and pushed it back down. The noontime sun was hot enough. 'I've told you umpteen times already, I'll notice Iseret's veil.'
'Give!' Rani-Ra grabbed her brother's flask. She filled two cups, one for herself, one for Trueth who was fanning her face inside the car. 'Yeah, yeah, big bro just has to find the right spot, ' Rani-Ra said. 'I still don't get it. Why do we have to start in these valleys? Valley of the Queens? You've been here so many times with Dad, surely you would have spotted something?'
Metjen pinched the bridge of his nose, it was itching from the glasses but he did not dare remove them in public. 'I wasn't expecting to find any magic, bloody hell! Will you give me a break? For what it's worth, I don't think we'll get lucky first time round, but we have to try, it's the most logical place.'
'Nothing is logical about this place,' Trueth said. 'Please get a move on, I'm melting away here!'
'Sounds good to me,' Metjen said before he squeezed behind the wheel of the rental. He started the car and in a cloud of oily exhaust fumes they took off.
They drew blanks, first in the Valley of the Queens, then in the Valley of the Kings. In a way that was positive news given the number of tourists still traipsing around the tombs despite the coming summer. Any attempt at entering hidden gravesites in full view of these visitors was doomed to failure.
The surrounding desert did not yield any treasures either. The Jeep raced past steep cliffs bleeding pebbles down their sides, roared along the terraces of Hatshepsut's mortuary temple and ignored the crumbling remains of the Memnon colossi.
They found nothing.
'Dare I mention the proverbial needle in the dune?' Trueth asked after two days of mind-numbing meandering on desert tracks where one bit of rubble appeared more or less like the arid lot of it.
'Didn't you recognize another clue on that darned papyrus?' Rani-Ra said. She and Ranofer, despite their usual bickering, had tried their best to support the mind-scan of the environment.
With no results.
'You mean "x marks the spot"? No, there wasn't. Yes, I was in a rush but no, I haven't missed anything,' Metjen said before Trueth could open her mouth.
She opened it anyway. 'How can you be so sure "Eye of Horus" is a spell? It could be a location? It sounds more like the latter, but I don't have my mind full of Hands of the Dead, or Teeth of the Demons or whatever that stuff is you keep throwing at me.'
That woman could drive a saint to mass murder and a saint he was not. 'A veil isn't a spell. Nor is a spell a curse. And cursing is not the same as swearing, which is what I do when I ask you in the name of the Devourer to shut up! And otherwise it's the Hand of Osiris—or I can offer you Breath of Sakhmet.'
'What does that do?' Trueth asked unwisely.
'It knocks you out. It's worse than Breath of Bastet, and that is ghastly enough. Ever had a cat breathe in your face? Well, Sakhmet is a lioness. Do I need to say more?'
It appeared he did not, but he wondered whether that lunatic might not be right. 'Rano, give me that map or better—see whether you can locate anything that classifies as eye of the Horus falcon. I don't imagine they would call it that way.'
Trueth sneaked over Ranofer's shoulder. 'I can't read any Arabic.'
'That's why Ranofer has got the map. You're only here because I don't want you to blow up Ra's temple. The Servants are already freaking out.'
'Not a bad idea especially if Iseret was still inside ... . '
He caught himself grinning but the comment still deserved to be punished. A golden ray zapped into the space where Trueth would have been, had she not thrown herself on the floor of the rental Jeep.
'Stop it, the two of you. I think we found something.' Rani-Ra stabbed a well-manicured finger at the map. 'There's another Al-Qurn in the middle of in the desert, not in the Valley of the Kings where it belongs?'
'Could the map be wrong?' Metjen asked.
'Nope,' Ranofer said. 'The original Al-Qurn is right there.' He too stabbed the map and left some grease behind.
'What's so important about that thing?' Trueth asked in a bored voice.
Rani-Ra turned towards her. 'Al-Qurn is a pyramid shaped rock formation. Egyptologists believe this was the reason the ancients chose that particular wadi as site for the royal necropolis. It was like having a mini pyramid protecting the sleep of the Pharaohs. Maybe the second one protects a different sleeper?'
'Can we stop the guided tour?' Metjen said. 'Trueth had her chance and didn't take it. Otherwise I like the idea. Does it mention falcons?'
'Haven't found anything yet, Ranofer keeps hogging the map,' his sister said. ' We should have checked the terrain out earlier instead of just relying on you.'
Metjen was tired, but he still felt the familiar rush of power, his vision flickered and blurred. He pivoted around and shot another ray at the nearest rock; it disintegrated with a boom.
'Crikey, how you can be so frisky despite this heat is beyond me,' Trueth said, but he noticed she kept her distance.
'Get used to it,' he snarled.
'Are you quite finished? I found it!' Ranofer pushed the blasted map into his face. 'See this? Says Jebel el Saqr, Mountain of the Falcon. It's in a straight line from the second Qurn, but so far into the desert I can't imagine the Ancients digging holes out there. Even nowadays, it would be pretty difficult to transport the stuff you need, let alone keep the builders alive?'
Metjen strode towards the Jeep, threw himself back in his seat and concentrated. The day was rapidly turning into evening. He he did not want to careen around the desert at night, chasing falcons, mountains and the gods only knew what else.
On the other hand, he had sensed nothing in the area within reach of the old capital. He also suspected the Jeep was attracting attention zipping all over the place as it was. No tourist was that diligent, instead aspiring grave robbers would soon breathe down their necks hoping for gold and treasures.
He took a decision. 'I like that straight line— if you extend it, you land in the Valley of the Queens. They were shit hot on alignments back in ancient Egypt. So I'm interested in that Qurn. Let's go there. If that doesn't work, we drive into the desert tomorrow, towards your mountain.' Metjen tried to sound decisive despite the numbness born of either fatigue or frustration--or possibly both--that clouded his brain.
They all piled inside and once more he started the car. It reached their Qurn when the enormous balloon of shimmering red was close to taking its daily plunge into the floor of the desert.
Trueth regarded the spectacle and pointed at the sun. 'In these adventure films they have stray rays lighting things up and, hey presto, you know where to look.'
Metjen did not respond as he felt a faint tugging at the edges of his mind. He stood up in the vehicle—and nearly fell over as his brother brought it to a screeching halt. 'What are you doing?'
'I'm trying to stop the car as you seemed to have noticed something, dear brother.'
'Thank you, dear brother, that was a good idea in principle but not so in execution,' Metjen said and jumped onto the gravel. He concentrated and spread his ka into the surroundings until it reached halfway round the hill.
Nothing.
'Drive to the other side. I'm sure we're in the right place. And I am equally sure I will only find things while the sun is still up.' Ranofer took off with tires screeching, and Metjen turned to Trueth. 'Your comments are inane, but they are useful in a way.'
Trueth tried to curtsey which was not the best of ideas as Ranofer was manoeuvring wildly around the rocks. Metjen slashed down his hand, the Jeep came to another sudden standstill, and again a gleam of magical light flowed across the scenery—only to vanish with a sparkle when it hit a collection of rocks. The veil's ricochet in his mind from the veil made him reel. He still recognised Iseret's signature magic, smelling of metal and myrrh.
'I can feel it too,' Rani-Ra and Ranofer shouted simultaneously. They all regarded Trueth, who shook her head.
'My bum hurts, and I need to disappear briefly,' she offered.
Metjen ignored that. 'I wouldn't normally bounce my ka around so much. It consumes a lot of power, but I knew there was something and I wanted to prompt a reaction.' Metjen rubbed his temples, his head had ached. That seemed to have become a permanent condition in recent weeks.
A closer inspection of the rocks revealed no tombs, visible or otherwise. Metjen thought of swearing, concentrated instead, stretched out his hand—and sparks fizzled to the ground.
'Ah, that isn't so good.'
His sun-flow was close to fading out just like the celestial body, and he would still need to veil their presence. Assuming they found something. Borrowing the powers of others always made him feel inferior but this time he saw no alternative.
'Okay, Rani, Rano--if you want us to find something I need to borrow some of your mojo.'
He drew on the sun-flow of his siblings before he once more reached out into the rocks. Their combined golden sheen danced from one boulder to another until a myriad of colours whooshed into their faces—and there was an entrance in the biggest rock where before there had been none. The opening was blocked by a plastered wall bearing the seal of a high priestess of Hathor in its smooth exterior.
'Let me guess, there's a curse designed for those who enter without authorisation, applying in particular to grave robbers like us,' Trueth said. 'Or would that be a spell?'
Given that Metjen had no power to spare, he had to be content with glowering at the pest. What they wanted was knowledge, not treasures, they were trying to protect the temple and not destroy things out of sheer greed like those criminals had done. Yes, it was wrong to enter tombs, but if they had a reason... .
He swatted all these thoughts away and checked the wall bearing Iseret's insignia.
'To enter or not to enter, that's the question,' he declaimed.
Trueth clapped. 'Bravo, so pleased you know your Classics. If you ask me, we stay where we are. Or you check out the future to see what happens when you enter?'
Metjen sensed a short spurt of heat, yet it died down due to lack of energy. Trueth was right. And she was most likely unaware of certain constraints.
'I can't divine possible futures if it affects me or my nearest and dearest. Only high priests can do that. So, if you want me to predict what will happen to you at one point, be my guest. But as far as this tomb is concerned, I've got no clue what we'll find.'
'I'll pass on the palm-reading, thank you. And otherwise I suggest you make your mind up.' Despite her witticisms she was nervous again, clenching and flexing her fingers.
His mind made up, Metjen approached the boulder and stretched out his arm towards the wall, palm first. He pushed further and his fingers disappeared into solid brick--and out into an open space on the other side.
Metjen withdrew his hand, checked, noticed nothing untoward and addressed the others. 'Give me a couple of minutes, then you can follow.'
Despite his headache and exhaustion the wall was no obstacle, and he flowed right through. For a moment, he wondered why Iseret had not created a stronger protection but it was too late to worry. Instead, he conjured up a glow to get a quick glimpse of the funeral chamber he found himself in.
The faded air was difficult to breathe and parched his throat with its dryness, but from the confinement of darkness rose wonderful things. A wall of wood soared on one end, inlaid with precious stones which blinked at the expanding light. On the other side objects emerged—a bed decorated with papyrus flowers, a number of small but exquisite tables with gilded borders. Next to them stood chairs displaying Nile scenes and various household items that seemed out of place in these surroundings. All over the place, boxes gaped open—filled with jewels, bracelets and a few golden vessels. But there were no papyri and no paintings apart from a crude rendering of the essential parts of the pyramid texts that would have guided the departed on her way towards the netherworld. For this was the resting place of a woman, and the shrivelled garlands in front of the wooden shrine showed that she had slept undisturbed ever since she had been laid to rest.
A soft crackling announced the arrival of Rani-Ra, closely followed by Ranofer and Trueth.
'Whatever we do, we can't touch the mummy,' Metjen said.
Trueth vigorously nodded her assent.
Metjen stepped over a garland and carefully tugged at the painted door of the shrine in front of him. He heard three inhalations but nothing happened. The door opened as if it had been closed only a short while before.
Inside, he found a wooden sarcophagus covered all over in paintings of flowers and birds where he was expecting to see the usual winged deities spreading their protection around the body. That was historically incorrect to a point it made him wonder whether somebody was playing a practical joke on them.
He also noticed something else.
This was a rich burial, but of a noble rather than a Pharaoh or Queen. There was only one shrine, and the coffin was not big enough to nest others within, if he opened this one he would disturb the deceased. As he was about to retreat, his eyes fell to the floor. Right in front of the sarcophagus lay the other half of their wig—in much better condition. Metjen prodded it with his mind, but it seemed to be intact, so he mind-lifted it up and examined it more closely.
This had belonged to a man. The smooth brown braids hung down straight and around the crown ran a band displaying lotus flowers strung on gold wire. It ended in a slightly bigger seared-off chunk of precious metal, complete with another hieroglyph, a 'K'.
Together with the "S" on their half of the wig, the word could be interpreted as "Se-ke", depending how one pronounced it. He could not recall how many times he had regretted that their written language did not contain vowels, inserting an 'e' was only an educated guess. To do more, he needed a reference, as it was, the word meant nothing. He presented the half wig to the others, got exclamations from the twins and a scowl from the pest.
'How do you know that your family did not steal your half?'
His sister and brother were rolling up their mental sleeves to give Trueth the response she deserved. He snarled at his siblings—he would not tolerate a catfight in the presence of the dead.
In his case, anger and fatigue were competing with the pressure on his chest. And on his head. They needed to leave before the demons of the underworld arrived to take revenge. He would not be in any position to fend them off, nor would his fading powers allow him to sweep the memory of their intrusion from this tomb.
Which would make them vulnerable to yet another being good at taking offense.
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