A God of Old Ch. 06

1746 B.C.:

Akehar stood in the sacred chamber, watching Susuk, one of his fellow priests, as the older man perused the Book of Amun. It was just one of the ancient relics that Enkartep had brought to this chamber years ago.

Around Akehar and his fellow priests were those other relics.

There was the Sword of Set, which Set had used to murder his brother Osiris, and the Womb of Hathor, with which the gods had created the first Egyptians, and various others, each boasting some strange and formidable power. The only one not there was the Essence of Anubis, which Enkartep had imbibed to become a god.

The Book of Amun, the center of Susuk's attention, had been granted to the Egyptians by Sekhmet, to help them battle the gods should they ever rise to anger. It was full of mystical spells, and was now the lynchpin of their plot to unseat Enkartep.

In his arrogance, believing that no one could match him, he had moved these relics from their previous private location into this more public chamber, letting anyone and everyone see them, as a way to honor his own ascendancy into godhood a century ago. Unbeknownst to him, he had helped pave the way for his own comeuppance in bringing these relics here instead of destroying or hiding them.

Susuk was to lead the ritual that would defeat Enkartep. The other five priests were there to lend their efforts; Akehar was to play an important part in luring Enkartep to his doom, and then would join them as the sixth supporter. All that he needed was the signal from Susuk that he was ready to begin.

The fate of Egypt rests in our hands.

After a few more minutes, Susuk turned to the other priests.

"The time has come," he said solemnly, "we must not fail."

They nodded, and left the chamber.

The other six priests headed down to where the ritual would take place.

Akehar watched them go, and then headed off somewhere else.

As a priest of Enkartep, he had access to many places others did not. One such place was the Divine Palace, where Enkartep resided with his priestesses and warriors. The current warriors on guard nodded at him as he passed. Despite his best attempts to mask his nervousness, he could not help but wonder if they could sense it in him.

He made his way up to the god's bedchamber, outside of which two more warriors were on guard.

"I must speak with him," he told them, "it is of the utmost importance."

They nodded at him. One opened the door and slipped inside.

From inside the room, he could hear light moans. His fists clenched as he found himself wondering if it was his sister making them.

Enkartep had taken Akeneb from their family years ago, after seeing her while on a walk through the city. In his words, her youthful beauty and lushness had won him over. The few times Akehar had seen his sister since her absorption into the ranks of his priestesses, she had been mindless and thoughtless, caring only about pleasing her master. Part of the reason for his entry into the ranks of Enkartep's priests had been to find a way to free her from this service.

Alas, he had been unable to find a remedy for the lustful slavishness that Enkartep had mired his sister in. It seemed that whatever had been done to Akeneb had been rendered permanent, or at least unchangeable by any but the one who had done it in the first place. Once such a fact had become painfully clear, Akehar had switched his objective to revenge.

This is for you, Akeneb.

Enkartep appeared from his room, clad only in a robe.

"What is it?"

Akehar swallowed nervously, a trickle of sweat running down the back of his neck.

Susuk had assured him that arrogant as Enkartep was, he could not conceive of something that could unseat him, and so he would not read Akehar's mind and discover the truth.

Nonetheless, it was easy for the nerves to appear.

"There was a disturbance at the temple. Somebody stole one of the relics and damaged another. Susuk wanted me to bring you."

Enkartep frowned.

"Which relics?"

"The stolen one is the Sword of Set," he said, relishing the surprise and brief worry crossing the god's expression, "and the damaged one is the Womb of Hathor."

"Very well," Enkartep said, "lead me."

The walk back to the temple was filled with more anxiety for Akehar. He kept thinking that Enkartep would sense that anxiety, and find the truth with little effort. But nothing came from the god, so Akehar pressed onward, reaching the temple quickly, leading Enkartep down to the lower levels.

"Why are we not going to the sacred chamber?" Enkartep asked.

"We found the Womb of Hathor further down," he answered, doing his best to keep his voice level.

They reached the staircase leading down the room where the ritual would take place. Akehar's nerves mounted as they walked down the steps.

The room the steps led to was large and circular; the priests had cleared it to make room.

The other six priests were waiting, five arranged in an arc behind Susuk. Akehar quickly took his place just as the chanting began.

Present day:

"Is this really necessary?"

"Yes."

"Nobody's following us."

"Just because you don't see them doesn't mean they're not there."

Yussef sighed.

"Are you going to tell me yet what's going on?"

"Not yet, my love."

He sighed again.

Amina frowned.

"Don't you trust me?"

"Yes," he said, a little bit too tersely.

"Then you can wait a little longer," she replied smoothly, ignoring or at least tolerating his frustration.

"When will you tell me?"

"When we're safe."

"We're safe right now."

"Once they are back with us, I will tell you. I promise."

He bit back a sarcastic reply.

"Can I at least put on the radio?"

Amina smiled.

"Of course."

The previous silence was exchanged for current hits.

Yussef sat back in the passenger's seat, watching the streets go by.

The quartet had landed earlier on the roof of some nondescript building. Night had fallen, but despite the cover of darkness, Amina and Salome had still been nervous about being discovered.

So they had outlined this convoluted plan.

Amina and he had left first, taking a car in the garage to some secret spot in the city. Salome would wait a little while with the strange man, and then the two of them would leave in another car. It was apparently all to avoid detection, but to Yussef it seemed like paranoia. The only silver lining had been that it gave him time alone with Amina, so that he could get the truth from her.

But she was still refusing to answer his questions.

After almost half an hour, they pulled into the driveway of a small, one-story house. As they slipped out, Amina cast looks around them.

"I told you," he said in exasperation, "nobody's following us."

"And I told you, just because you don't see them-"

"Doesn't mean they're not there," he finished sarcastically.

The inside of the house was sparsely furnished. Amina led him through the first floor; they came to a door that led down to the basement.

In the corner of the dusty basement was an old wooden bookcase. As Amina crouched to examine something on the lower shelves, he took a cursory glance of the upper shelves, seeing several books about Ancient Egypt.

"Who lives here?" he asked Amina.

"Nobody right now," she told him, "this is a safe house."

A loud creaking noise came from the bookcase, making him jump back, startled.

Amina smiled at his reaction, stepping to his side as the bookcase slid aside, gears grinding to allow such movement.

Behind the bookcase was a hidden staircase, only a half dozen steps leading down into some dark corridor.

They headed down the steps; to their right was a long tunnel, light panels flickering to life on the ceiling.

"Where does this go?"

"To another safe house."

"Is that where we'll meet the others?"

"No," she said, smiling gently."

"We still have a ways to go, don't we?"

She nodded.

They did indeed.

After ten or so minutes of walking, with Amina leading the way, they reached another house. There were three cars in the garage, but instead of taking one, the duo set off walking, Amina glancing here and there as they went.

Twenty minutes passed before they stopped at a random corner, Amina pulling out her smartphone.

"What are we doing now?"

"Getting a cab," she told him.

He shook his head in befuddlement.

"So much secrecy," he muttered.

"It's for a good reason," Amina said.

He sighed.

Ten minutes later, a cab pulled up in front of them.

They only took it ten minutes away; several blocks from where it dropped them off, they went into a third house.

"Another safe house?"

She nodded.

"This is the last one."

There was nobody inside the house. They headed down into the basement, Yussef looking around for a bookcase.

But there was none.

He saw movement from behind him, and turned to see Amina crouching at the foot of the staircase. She reached out to the fourth step up, and pressed the riser.

A whirring sound came from the other side of the room.

Yussef spun that way in time to see a panel recede sideways into the wall.

It revealed a staircase, which led down to a tunnel, which they walked through for about ten minutes.

After those ten minutes, Amina stopped at an indistinguishable stretch of tunnel.

The light panels in this tunnel were set in the wall. Amina pressed her palm to one, and a soft red light swished along her hand.

Part of the wall next to that light panel slid open, revealing a keypad.

"Finally," he breathed, watching her key in a code, expecting to be at the end of their journey.

A door wisped open on the opposite wall. Another staircase beckoned, so they headed down, the door closing behind them. At the foot of the stairs, the tunnel turned right, where several yards away another door stood. Amina took the doorknob in her hand, ignoring his incredulous groan, and turned it several times, to the left and then back to the right. A panel slid aside in the wall next to the door, revealing a keypad, where Amina keyed another code. The door slid open, and they trudged through another tunnel. The tunnel only went several yards, with no door at the end. However, Amina reached for the light switch mounted on the wall, and pressed her thumb to one of the screws on the switch's panel. Part of the wall recessed to reveal a door, on which was mounted a keypad. She keyed in the code, ignoring his frustrated grunt, and the door swung open; another tunnel led them to a staircase, which this time led up, to another door. This one had a panel already on it, which Amina pressed her palm to. The door slid open, showing a tunnel, with a door visible some yards away.

"Really?" he asked incredulously.

She smiled gently at him.

That door also had a keypad set on it.

When she keyed in the code, a panel in the door recessed next to the keypad.

"Amina," she said loudly.

The door slid open, revealing yet another tunnel.

"You have got to be kidding me."

"Almost there," she told him, leading him through the tunnel to another staircase, at the bottom of which waited a door.

"Amina," she said again, a panel on the door sliding aside at thigh-height.

She crouched, shuffling closer to bring her eyes in line with that part of the door. A red light streamed out to meet her gaze, and after a few seconds, the door opened.

Yet again, a staircase was on the other side, but this one led up into a large garage, with dozens of cars, trucks, and motorcycles filling it. He gaped at all of the expensive and exquisite vehicles, following after Amina as she crossed the garage, headed towards an elevator.

"So is this the end of the line?" he asked once the doors were closed, depriving him of the view.

She nodded.

"Are they already here?"

"I don't know," she told him, "but we'll know in a second."

The elevator only brought them up two floors, the doors sliding open to reveal a spacious room, with plush couches and fragrant plants.

"They aren't here yet," she said.

"Were they supposed to meet us here?"

She nodded.

"Whoever got here first was supposed to wait for the other two."

"And where are we? Are we still in Cairo?"

She nodded.

"Come on," she beckoned, taking him by the hand, "I'll take you outside."

They walked through a large foyer, with expensive-looking tile floors and just as expensive-looking chandeliers. There was an ornate wooden door at the end of the foyer, flanked on either side by tall, frosted windows.

The garage had been impressive, and when Amina pushed open the door, the grounds were revealed to be no less impressive.

They stretched out to a high wall. A gate was set in the middle, a gravel road leading from it, winding around to their left. That road passed by a large pond, schools of fish swimming along mindlessly. The entire right side of the grounds was dominated by verdant green, walkways winding through lined on either side by lush grass, voluminous bushes, and trees of different kinds. It had a paradisiac quality to it, a seeming oasis in the midst of the city.

Amina walked out down the front steps, Yussef following after her

"This is our headquarters," she told him, gesturing back to the building they had just exited.

He turned, looking back over his shoulder at that building, craning his neck to watch it rise into the sky.

"Damn. This is nicer than I thought it'd be."

"What did you expect?" she asked.

"Some military compound. Something more cultish."

Amina frowned.

"We're not a cult."

He opened his mouth, sarcastic comment at the ready, but managed to hold off.

"We should go back inside," she said, "to wait for them."

Once inside, they sat on one of the couches, Amina's knee bouncing nervously.

He tried to ask her more questions, but she was unreceptive, eyes fixed on the elevator, so he gave up, instead using the time to check his e-mails.

A ding sounded after a while, catching him by surprise.

Amina leapt to her feet, letting out a deep breath as the elevator doors slid open, Salome and the strange man walking out.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"Our headquarters," Amina told him.

He glanced around, gaze passing over Yussef as if he were not there.

"There are others upstairs," Amina said, "Perhaps we should go greet them."

The man took a few more moments to glance around, before nodding to her.

"Take me to them."

The four of them crowded into the elevator, taking it up, the whole way the strange man looking as nonplussed as ever. Amina and Salome still had looks of barely restrained wonder all across their faces.

When the doors opened, they saw thirteen people, sitting on couches and chatting quietly.

"Hello, sisters," Amina said.

Eight of the thirteen, all women, jumped to their feet, their chatter suddenly rising in volume.

"Is this him?" one of them asked.

"It is," Amina said, smiling widely.

"Master," the eight women said in unison, kneeling.

"Rise," he said.

This room was similar to the one downstairs where Yussef and Amina had waited. The only differences were a plush rug, and a balcony on the other side of the room.

The eight women were still gazing at the strange man, the exact same look on their faces as on Amina and Salome's.

But the other five people, three men and two women, were not quite as awed.

"What is this, Rebecca?" one of the women asked, her accent identifying her to Yussef as American.

"This is what I was telling you about," Rebecca answered, barely sparing the speaker a glance.

"This guy is the answer to my prayers? He looks like a crazy man."

The strange man looked over to her, his expression unreadable.

"Be respectful, please, Karen," Rebecca urged.

"Why? Why should I be? I came all this way, on a moment's notice, for what?"

"You doubt me?" the strange man said, stepping closer to her.

"Of course," Karen spat, "I don't know you."

"So you require a show of my powers?"

Karen rolled her eyes, glaring over at Rebecca.

"Really?"

She looked back to the strange man.

"What're you going to do, read my palm?"

A small smile crossed his lips.

"Yes," he said, extending a hand out, palm up.

Although she arched an eyebrow, Karen met his hand. He quickly placed his other hand over hers, running fingers along her palm.

"I do not find anger in people doubting me," he told her, "for many have refused to believe in me."

Karen curled her lip.

"But you would be wise to ally yourself with me, once your doubt is eliminated."

She sniffed, looking ready to pull her hand away.

"If not for yourself, then for Gavin."

Her eyes flared, and she tore her hand away.

"So what?" she spat. "Did you research me or something?"

He chuckled.

"Rebecca, who the fuck is he, and what the fuck am I doing here?"

"It may be easy for one to find out your son's name," the strange man admitted.

"Yeah, very easy," Karen muttered.

He closed his eyes, tilting his head back.

"Rebecca, what the fuck is going on?"

"Just trust me, Karen."

Yussef rolled his eyes.

So it's not just me.

"You were sitting on a bench," the strange man began, opening his eyes, "in Shoreley Park."

Karen again arched an eyebrow.

"So you're spying on me?"

He shook his head.

"Eight years ago," he murmured, "you were sitting on a bench. Across from a clinic."

Karen's eyes widened; she took a step back, looking over at Rebecca, and then back to the strange man.

"It had seemed like an easy choice for you, to abort the babe. But once you got there, you could not move. It was as if your legs were made of steel."

Yussef could see the shock increase on Karen's face as she listened.

"You sat there for hours. Trying to tell yourself to move, to go across the street. But you just could not."

Karen's mouth opened, an apparent attempt to talk gone wildly unsuccessful.

"And then an old man sat down next to you. Asked you how you were doing. You had not told anybody that you were pregnant, even the father, but you told this man everything. How scared you were to be a mother, how worried you were that either something would go wrong in the pregnancy, or you would be a bad mother. How it seemed that it would easy this way, that you could walk away and nobody would be any the wiser."

A tear rolled down Karen's cheek, her expression stricken with shock.

"He told you that a child is not a burden, but a gift. He told you that many things can go wrong in life, but that is why it is so special, why it is so important to have love and loved ones."

The room was silent as they watched Karen, her hands trembling, more tears following the first.

"While it may not sound eloquent to me, it was what you needed to hear. Or perhaps you just needed someone to validate the decision that you had already made."

He paused, another small smile appearing.

"So you got up. But you did not cross the street. You went home, and eight months later, had your son. Remind me, what was the name of the man who talked to you at the park?"

Karen's lip trembled, but she got out the name.

"Gavin."

"And did you ever tell anyone that story?"

"No."

His smile grew.

"Do you doubt me now?"

Her eyes were still wide.

"How do you know?"

"The same way I know that Iris and Fiona first met at a soccer match, and fell in love later that night," he said, gesturing to two other women, standing next to each other, one's hand on the other's shoulder.

"And that December the 2^nd, 2003 was a very strenuous night for Javier," he continued, gesturing to a tall, bearded man, whose face turned the palest white, a choked gasp spilling from his mouth.

"How?" Karen asked, "How do you know?"

He smiled that insufferable smile.

"I just know."