“How so?” Amon inquired coolly.
“It is disputed, but I have found signs indicating that Hatshepsut had special ties to the sphinx. We know, for example, that there was once an avenue of sphinxes that lined the path leading to her mortuary temple. Certain records discovered in Africa speak of the lionesses gifted to Hatshepsut, but one of them unmistakably said that ‘The Lioness’ came from Africa.
“This is in reference to the mysterious leader of a secret group called the Order of the Sphinx, a seldom-talked-about, highly controversial sect that many scholars dismiss as a fairy tale. I think not only that the order did exist, but that Hatshepsut might have been appointed their leader during that trip to visit the king.”
Amon rubbed his cheek. “Interesting. Why do you think she was the leader and not simply a member?”
“Well, the sheer number of statues that graced the avenue of sphinxes was an indication of her respect for the creature. Then there’s the fact that her temple was once surrounded by myrrh and frankincense trees, a sign that proves just how important that trip to Africa was.” Dr. Hassan looked at me. “There is a statue of her as the sphinx in your Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City.”
I sucked in a quick breath. The need to kick Amon and tell him we had to hightail it out of the tent was urgent, but all I could get out was a little moan. Amon squeezed my hand and asked if I was in pain. I shook my head, mentally screaming at him that we were in danger, but if he got my message, he ignored it.
My rational mind told me it was highly unlikely that Dr. Hassan would know anything about where I came from. It was likely a simple coincidence that he’d brought up the Met, but my suspicions were hard to ignore. He seemed to know more about us than we knew about him, and that made me very uncomfortable.
“Please continue, Doctor,” Amon encouraged him.
“The statue in the New York museum depicts Hatshepsut as the sphinx—her beautiful face is marked by the ceremonial false beard and headdress symbolizing her might; her body is that of a lioness. She was a powerful and handsome woman. One of the inscriptions in the temple says that ‘to look upon her was more beautiful than anything; her splendor and her form were divine. She was a maiden, beautiful and blooming.’?”
“Is she now”—Amon hesitated—“under the glass?”
“Ah, you are asking if it would be possible to see her?”
Amon nodded and swallowed. He probably wasn’t even sure he wanted to know the answer.
“The answer is that it depends on whom you ask,” Dr. Hassan replied. “Her final resting place should have been with her father, Thutmose I, but it is likely she was moved. Most Egyptologists believe that she was found in the tomb of her wet nurse, but I do not. The mummy discovered there is touted as being Hatshepsut, but I have found indications that her final resting place might be in another tomb altogether.”
“What are these…indications?” Amon asked.
“Well”—Dr. Hassan leaned forward—“I have discovered a signet ring, a shabti figurine bearing her name, and a senet game with carved pieces that have the head of a lioness. The most important piece is one I call the lioness throne—a golden seat with armrests carved in the likeness of a lioness. These were not discovered in the tomb of the wet nurse, Sitre-Re, but elsewhere in the Valley of the Kings. Still, more than these trinkets, I know that her funerary temple was dedicated to Amun-Ra. Though she outwardly worshipped other gods, her temple was a strong sign of her true belief, for at its head—the one I believe you entered through, though you won’t confirm that—is the most revered, and that was—”
“The Royal Family Chapel,” Dr. Dagher interjected.
“Yes. But that is not its whole name. Its full name, its once secret name, is the Amun and Royal Family Chapel.”
Amon sat back. “So the chapel was shared. It was dedicated to the royal family—”