The Memory Painter

Thoth didn’t speak. Seth would be surprised to know how much he wanted to share that vision of the future, but it was impossible. Hermese would never agree and he could never go against her.

“Just think, we would gain access to the complex.” Seth’s eyes grew bright with tempered zeal. “No more secrets, no more knowledge that the people can’t touch. All of Egypt would join together.”

Thoth held his gaze steady. “I thought the people were together. I do not see many complaining.”

“Because you’ve had your head buried in the sand,” Seth snapped. “Or somewhere else.”

Thoth refused to be baited. “There is a balance of power for a reason. After the Great War—”

Seth interjected, “Spare me Father’s history lesson! The Great War has nothing to do with here and now. You gave the House of Atum your seed, did you give them your manhood as well?”

Thoth sat back and crossed his arms—the urge to strike his brother overwhelmed him.

Seth leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Their fall will happen soon, with or without you. Would you not like to have a hand in your lover’s fate?”

Thoth began to feel real fear now. He had to tread carefully—his brother had become a threat to Hermese. “I need time to think on your offer. For now I will walk the rest of the way to the city.”

Something flickered in Seth’s eyes. He gave a sharp knock on the litter door and the men beneath it stopped and lowered it to the ground.

Thoth got out and could not resist saying, “If she had chosen you, this would all be different.”

Seth stared at him, and his smile hardened. “No, just easier.” He knocked on the litter again, and the bearers moved on.

Thoth knew he needed to talk to his father and find a way to warn Hermese. He feared his brother did not plan to let her, or the child, live. She would forever pose a threat to the Apophis even as a figurehead.

Thoth broke into a run. He realized his brother would strike on the day that was meant to symbolize a new beginning: the return of Sirius—the Star of Isis. He would strike tomorrow.

*

When Thoth arrived home, he discovered that his father had died three days earlier. He listened numbly as their house servant explained everything and begged his forgiveness. Ramses had refused to let anyone send for him. The servant’s continuous sobs carved Thoth’s heart up into even smaller pieces. He patted the servant’s shoulder and did his best to comfort him. Then he left.

He wandered through the market, unsure of what to do next. His father had been the keystone in his life, and he needed his counsel now more than ever. Even worse, his brother had said nothing of his passing. This was something Thoth could not forgive.

He could feel the people’s eyes upon him as he made his way to the Great Sun Temple of Re, where he knew his father’s funeral would have taken place. Its size and grandeur made it seem more like a mountain that had been hollowed out by the gods. When he entered, he was not surprised to find it empty. Everyone was busy preparing for tomorrow’s celebration.

Thoth walked up to the altar and stood before the eternal flame. It was an homage to the phoenix—the sacred bird of Egypt. As a child, Thoth had been fascinated by stories about them. The last known phoenix had died with Horus and traveled with him to the Duat, the Afterlife, but its spirit lived on as a potent reminder of the soul’s immortality and the people’s past.

He watched the flames, trying to imagine his father’s spirit within them. He had never felt so alone.

“Your father was a great man.”