The Memory Painter

Hermese put her hand on Thoth’s shoulder. He watched the alchemist work and felt nothing when Ammon slid the rest of the arrow from his chest. Ammon pressed a cloth to the wound and placed his hand on top of it. Once again, the heat was overwhelming. When Ammon removed his hand from the cloth, Thoth saw that the wound had closed. It still looked fresh and tender, but the bleeding had stopped.

Thoth looked to Hermese and saw that she had been restored as well. He wanted to know what the alchemist had done, but Hermese stood up and turned to Ammon and Ma’at.

“They will be searching for a way in now that they know the tunnels exist,” she said.

Thoth began to sense there was a plan in place that he did not know about. “What do we do?” he asked.

Hermese looked at him—she was still the Guardian and in command. “The tunnels were built to connect to the river. We open those doors and flood everything.”

Thoth gaped at her, unable to accept what she was suggesting. “So the Hall of Records is to be swept into the Nile? No one will ever remember the Great Past. We will be condemned to live in darkness.”

Hermese ignored his reproaches and disappeared down an aisle. Thoth shook his head in disbelief and sat at the table. Ma’at joined him there and quietly reassured him. “The Hall of Records will be sealed. Everything will be kept safe.”

He glared at her. “Safe for no one to ever find.”

“If people found the Hall of Records now, do you really think it would survive?” she countered.

Thoth couldn’t answer. He had seen Seth’s mob and could not imagine they understood what sacred meant.

Ma’at pressed her point. “The knowledge that exists here can move mountains and keep a man alive forever, destroy worlds and alter universes. Do you want this kind of power in your brother’s hands?” She hesitated, “What has come to pass today was written long ago. Someday, when the world is ready, we will find our legacy again. It has been foretold.”

Thoth didn’t care what had been foretold, or when the Hall would be found again. These were abstractions from a past and a future he did not exist in. The present was all that mattered. He looked to where Hermese had retreated into the shadows, and he chastised himself for directing his anger at her. She was not to blame.

He heard movement in the tunnel. Ammon hurried to investigate and came back moments later with Ptah and Bast. They looked just as battle weary as the rest.

Moments later, Hermese returned, carrying a stone box. She set it on the table. Once again, to Thoth’s annoyance, everyone seemed to know what was going on but him.

Ptah stared at the box with a sad smile. “So it has come to this.”

Hermese looked to Ma’at and asked, “How long?”

“Hours, at most.”

Everyone sat in somber silence. Hermese frowned. “Where is Thutmose?”

Ammon answered, “He gave up his life to help us escape.”

Hermese drew a sharp breath, fighting to control her emotions. She turned to Ptah. “There is not much time. You must hold services every day. The people will need a spiritual leader now more than ever. Bast, rally the Council to stand against the Apophis. Ammon and Ma’at will flood the tunnels from above. I will remain here to seal the Hall.”