The Memory Painter

With great satisfaction, Thoth watched the disbelief on his brother’s face turn to fury. Seth’s men looked at each other, wondering if they had chosen the wrong side. Seth drew his sword.

Thoth did not know what would happen next. The khopesh felt heavy in his hand, and he tried to remember his training. In theory, wide slashes would do the most damage. The blade of the khopesh was weighted perfectly so that its user could thrust, jab, or slash at his opponent. Thoth intended to do all three.

He forced his mind to focus. In a moment he would try to kill his brother. Surely Ramses would approve his actions. No man deserved to die more than Seth did.

The brothers circled each other, both blinded by the rain. Lightning flashed in the sky, as if the heavens were angered by the silence of the pyramids. Seth’s men grew uneasy. Thoth knew Seth sensed this as well and hoped it would splinter his concentration—otherwise Thoth’s chances of winning were slim. The only way to achieve victory would be to use his superior balance and agility to avoid his brother’s strength.

Seth attacked, and Thoth willed his body to bend with the air. He feinted right, lunged left, and brought his sword up in a wide arc—and his blade broke skin. Seth jumped back, barely saving himself from the lethal cut. He looked down at the blood flowing freely from his chest. The wound appeared deep.

With a roar, Seth charged, slicing the air. Thoth avoided each strike with the slightest turn. Seth lunged low and slashed at his feet. Thoth jumped high and arched his body, avoiding the blow by launching himself into a back flip.

The rains stopped and Thoth felt the Earth’s energy course through him, causing his fear to subside. Thunder rumbled as if telling him he would not die in this fight—that a greater ending awaited him.

He saw that Ammon and Ma’at had arrived, ready to come to his aid. Seth advanced again, and Thoth avoided each strike until he saw his opening. Swift and sure, he dropped his sword and rammed his elbow into his brother’s temple, as his other hand found a pressure point in Seth’s neck, causing him to lose consciousness. Seth collapsed.

Before Seth’s men could retaliate, Ammon threw a powder into the air that turned into smoke when its dust touched the ground. Everything erupted into chaos. Thoth looked down at his brother. His sword was raised and he was ready to strike, but he could not do it. He prayed to his father in the Duat to understand—and he let Seth live.

Thoth rushed back into the chamber with Ammon and Ma’at following just behind. Hermese was still curled up on the floor. Thoth gathered her in his arms as Ma’at opened the passage.

“Hurry!” she shouted. “We must get below.”

As Thoth turned to enter, something struck his body with tremendous force. He looked down at the arrow protruding from his chest, then back to his brother, who lay on the ground with a bow in his hands.

Thoth staggered and Ma’at clutched him to keep him on his feet. As the smoke cleared, Seth’s men began closing the distance.

Thutmose came running toward them from the other direction. “Get below! I’ll hold them off.”

Ammon grabbed Hermese and nodded. “I will see you in the Duat.”

The old warrior’s smile was grim. “In the Duat,” he said and charged at Seth’s men with a war cry, wielding a khopesh in each hand.

With Hermese in his arms, Ammon disappeared into the tunnel. Ma’at followed with Thoth and sealed the door. Thoth tried to ignore the blood oozing from his chest. When he spoke, his voice sounded faint. “Now they will know how to enter the tunnels.”