The Haunting of Guaritori Diolco, Part 4
Alexandria, Past but Still Present
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“Surrender to me,” said Apep, his voice magically audible. “Surrender—or my serpent will devour you!”
My heart pounded, and my fight-or-flight instinct cast its vote for flight. But there would be no outrunning a creature that size. I tried probing it magically, but I could tell little—except that it was, sadly, not an illusion. Nor was it likely that any of us—or all of us together—could overcome it by magic. We had to depend on Ptah.
“You offered us your protection!” I yelled at him, my voice sounding slightly more accusatory than I’d intended.
Ptah didn’t respond to me, but he did square off against Apep. “I oppose your power of destruction with my power of creation!”
Another earthquake shook the ground, and from it rose a stone wall. Ptah must have intended it to block the snake. The giant creature tried to strike, but the wall grew too fast, leaving it dangling with its head and a little of its body on the side closest to us, and the rest of its body hanging down on the other side. In that position, it was essentially helpless. The only thing it could do was allow itself to slip back off the wall, after which it hit the ground with an enormous thud.
“The good news is that I think the snake scared off the ghouls,” said Lian, her voice betraying nothing of the fear that she must have felt.
The wall stopped getting higher, but it continued to grow wider, gradually circling back until it enclosed us in a giant cylinder.
“In the name of…God, you cannot pass,” said Ptah. His voice was firm, but his body shook just a little. However his current body had been created, it almost certainly had to be less stress resistant than his divine one.
Apep screamed in frustration, and he struck the base of the wall repeatedly with his staff. The blows caused cracks, which Ptah kept sealing. Neither of the former gods had infinite power, but I wasn’t sure which one would reach exhaustion first.
I heard an even louder blow as the serpent struck the wall, lashing it as if the creature were one big whip. Cracks widened, and dust fell upon us.
“We need to get out of here,” said Urania.
“I’ll open a portal—” I began.
“To Alexandria,” said Ptah through clenched teeth as he struggled to repair his wall against the blows of both Apep and his snake.
Preoccupied as he was, I wasn’t sure whether he had the power to stop me if I opened a portal to New Colchis. But he might choose to ignore Apep’s attacks for a few seconds. I had no way to tell.
“I can’t open a portal to a place I’ve never been,” I said. “We came here through a portal supposedly opened by agents of the Pharaoh of Alexandria.”
Ptah had been holding both hands up as he fed magic into his wall, but he reached over with his left hand and gripped my shoulder. I felt a power surge as he shoved the necessary information into my mind.
“Open your portal—now!” he commanded in a voice he might once have used on ancient Egyptians.
My head throbbed as I summoned up the familiar pearl-gray cloud, though this time, it also had flecks of Ptah’s green energy in it, like splashes of paint on a gray wall. More slowly than I would have liked, it formed itself into a doorway.
Ptah’s entire wall vibrated as Apep started an earthquake of his own. A cloud of dust rose, and the cracks became chasms.
I motioned for Mateo, Urania, and Lian to go through. Just as the wall started to collapse on us, Ptah shoved me through, throwing himself in after me.
A second before I went into the swirling portal, I caught a glimpse of figures that looked like moving shadows with a shifting rainbow aura. They were running toward our position. I shuddered, hoping I was hallucinating. I was in no mood to discover yet another faction in a world that already had too many divisions.
Just before I closed the portal, I heard another of Apep’s frustrated screams. He was still too far away for him to be able to jump into the portal after us.
We found ourselves in darkness, but Ptah, looking much shakier now, managed to generate a little light for us.
We were in an enormous chamber that might have been Pharaoh’s throne room. I had expected it to look ancient Egyptian, but the numerous wall murals looked more realistic than early Egyptian art, and there was no trace of any hieroglyphics anywhere. The sculptures looked downright Greek.
“This is. . .not what I expected,” I said.
Ptah managed a smile. “When what you mortals refer to as the Catastrophe occurred twenty years ago, it was not uncommon for humans to try to blame each other. In the case of Egypt, that meant conflict among the Muslim, Christian, and Jewish communities. By the time the warring groups realized that none of them had brought about the disaster, there was too much bad blood for them to overcome.
“Much of the population of southern Egypt had been lost to the ghouls and other fierce creatures. What was left of the northern population divided itself into two different nations. One was a Muslim nation, based in Cairo and ruled by a sultan. The other was a Christian nation based here, in Alexandria, and ruled by a pharaoh.
“What happened to the Jewish population?” asked Lian. She looked worried—and I couldn’t say I blamed her. The world had become a much more savage place since the Catastrophe. Genocide was all too likely in such an atmosphere.
Or perhaps civilization’s mask had just been ripped off, and the savagery that had always been there was now on full display.
“Much to their mutual surprise, Christian and Jewish groups managed to reach an agreement,” said Ptah. “Neither group had been satisfied with post-Catastrophe Egypt, and many of their members hadn’t been happy with modern Egypt in general. But neither was particularly nostalgic for the Egypt of the early pharaohs, either.
“After all, the Jewish scriptures were a constant reminder of Israelite slavery in Egypt. Early Christians, whose Bible also contained the story of Egyptian captivity, wanted to fast-forward to the time of Jesus. But even the Christians didn’t want early Roman Egypt as a model, and the Jewish community wasn’t comfortable with building the whole society around Christian preferences, to the exclusion of their own.”
“That sounds like a recipe for deadlock,” said Urania.
“It was for a while,” replied Ptah. “Eventually, they settled on Hellenistic Egypt as model. Even in Jewish folklore, Alexander the Great was remembered as a ruler who respected all religious traditions. All who were loyal and obeyed the law were allowed to worship as they pleased. And it was in Alexandria that Jewish scholars created the Greek translation of their scriptures. There was a large Jewish population in the city back then—and now there is again.
“Christians were more than willing to go along with the Hellenistic idea because they revered the later Christian community that sprung up in Alexandria as the ancestor of their own Coptic church.”
“So the statue over there—” began Mateo.
“Is Alexander the Great,” finished Ptah. “He was crowned as pharaoh in my own city of Memphis,” he added, his eyes unfocusing for a moment as if he was visualizing the long-ago coronation.
“I’m a little surprised, then, that the Alexandrians chose to invoke Egyptian gods instead of Greek ones,” said Urania. “Uh, I hope that wasn’t rude.”
Ptah chuckled. “No, it’s a natural question. Keep in mind that it took people a long time to accept the notion that we. . .former gods, whether Egyptian or Greek, were suitable allies. We aren’t mentioned in such a way in any of the major religions. But there were still a certain number of underground Kemetists—people who still worshipped us. We discourage that now, of course,” he added hastily, as if angels were listening to his every word. “They tried to summon us, making it possible for us to enter the mortal world under God’s new dispensation. Some of us were already here when Jewish and Christian communities began to realize that they could legitimately receive our help.
“In any case, other places kept our Greek kin busy. There are many people of Greek ancestry and/or who love ancient Greek culture in a wide variety of places—as you all obviously know.”
He looked pointedly at me as if he could see the part of Hermes that lay inside me. But perhaps there was a more mundane explanation for his penetrating gaze—he’d remembered that we were affiliated with Medea.
Brighter lights flashed on all around us, causing me to blink against the harsh illumination.
“Ptah, I had not expected such a late visit,” said a deep voice that I knew at once must be Pharaoh’s. “What is the meaning of this unannounced arrival?”
By now, my eyes had adjusted enough to the brightness that I could see Pharaoh. He didn’t fit the Hellenistic décor of the throne room. He didn’t wear a crown—or any head covering, for that matter. Nor did he wear royal robes. Instead, he wore a modern hand-tailored suit with a light, desert camouflage pattern, as if he had risen from the sand—or could vanish into it at a moment’s notice. Aside from the color of his suit, he could easily have passed for a pre-Catastrophe Egyptian businessman, with one conspicuous exception. Around his neck, he wore an unusually large and ornate Coptic cross, distinguished by the equal width of its upright post and its crosspiece, as well as by the three points projecting from each tip and by the elaborate patterns painted on its surface in red, yellow, blue, white, and light orange. The glow around it indicated that it had been blessed by someone with deep faith.
I managed to draw my eyes away from the cross to look at the man, whose eyes looked back at me as if they could see into my soul. His hair, originally brown, was now mostly gray, and time had etched deep worry lines into his face. Battles had left a few small scars which he could no doubt have had fixed by magic but which he had retained, visual evidence of how much he had endured—and survived. But he stood straight, and the way his suit fit him suggested that he maintained a muscular physique. Given the way the world was now, a leader couldn’t afford to look weak.
However, I did think the ten guards wearing uniforms the same color as the pharaoh’s suit and pointing spears at us were overkill.
“I rescued these visitors from ghouls—and from Apep, who was being. . .a bit overzealous in his protection of Alexandria,” said Ptah in a calm voice.
“And you brought them here because. . .” prompted Pharaoh.
“They claim a representative of yours invited them here to discuss an alliance.”
Pharaoh’s eyes narrowed. “I sent no such invitation. Nor do I have any idea who they are.” The leader of Alexandria sounded superficially calm, but the guards tensed noticeably.
“If I may. . .Majesty,” I began, not really sure how one was supposed to address a pharaoh.
He nodded, his face carefully neutral. He wouldn’t relax until he knew we could be trusted.
“We suspect someone tricked us into coming to Egypt for the purpose of ambushing us. We were told we’d be met at the Valley of Kings by representatives of your government. Instead, we were attacked by ghouls—a very large number of them.”
“Atypically large,” Ptah added. “It is not unknown for them to hunt in packs, but this seemed more like. . .an army, based on the number I sensed.”
Pharaoh turned his attention to the former Egyptian deity. “You’re sure that our. . .visitors didn’t stage that attack for your benefit?”
“Thoth would have been able to analyze the situation better than I,” said Ptah. “But from what I could tell, none of them have magic dark enough to summon or command ghouls. Their peril was real. Besides, they had no way of knowing that either Apep or I were in the area. If their goal was to be brought here, why stage such a scene eighty-three ancient leagues from here. . .eight hundred and seventy of your kilometers? Where is the sense in that?”
The pharaoh nodded and looked back at me. “Someone like Ptah could not easily be fooled by mortal trickery. So it seems as if you are who you say you are. But why was your leader so convinced that she was communicating with my representatives?”
“As you know, it’s hard to get accurate news from distant places,” I replied. “She had their stories checked by seers and others among us, and the facts your supposed representatives provided were accurate.”
Pharaoh raised an eyebrow. “That suggests that someone with current knowledge of Egypt betrayed me. But to what end? If none of you are my enemies, what purpose would having you brought here serve?”
“Perhaps it was an effort to trick you into harming us,” said Lian. “You might have ended up at war with New Colchis. I doubt our forces could have defeated such a mighty ruler,” she added in response to Pharaoh’s skeptical expression. “But perhaps an attack by those forces could have served as a distraction while someone else launched an attack from a different direction.”
“That plan seems complicated,” Pharaoh replied. “And it requires that someone else have knowledge of Apep’s or Ptah’s movements in order to work. But regardless of whether or not your theory has merit, we need to find out the truth. Where is Thoth?”
“Last I heard, he was searching the ruins of Hermopolis for a sorcerer plotting against you,” said Ptah.
“Ask him to return to us now. We have need of his wisdom—and his prophetic abilities.”
“I shall find him.” Ptah gave Pharaoh a little bow before withdrawing.
Pharaoh turned back to us. “Though I did not invite you, you should be my guests, at least for a time. Based on Ptah’s description, it appears that you, rather than I, may have been the target of whatever this plot is. If it was perpetrated by someone who is part of my government, rest assured that they will be duly punished.”
At this point, I would rather have gone back to New Colchis than stay in Alexandria—except for the fact that Thoth might be able to help me get my magic sorted out. But I wasn’t sure whether or not to trust Pharaoh, and something about the palace gave me the creeps. Even when fully lit, the throne room looked more like a museum than a center of government. But since the present was so awful in so many ways, I could hardly blame the survivors of the Catastrophe for trying to find refuge in the past.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Pharaoh said to us. “Men, lower your spears. These people are now my guests and are to be treated as such until further notice.” The guards did as they were told, though some of them didn’t look happy about it.
“Allow me to introduce myself,” said Pharaoh. “I am Alksandar the First, Pharaoh of Alexandria, Defender of the Coptic Faith. Whom do I have the pleasure of hosting?”
“I am Guaritori Diolco. I go by Garth. These are my colleagues, Lian Chang, Urania Buckland, and Matteo Valdez.”
“Would you like something to eat, or would you rather I have you shown to your rooms?”
I wasn’t sure about the others, but I felt exhausted and hungry. “Perhaps a little food before we sleep,” I said, looking at my friends for confirmation. They all nodded.
“There is a banquet room adjacent to the throne room—an easy transition from work to celebration,” said Alksandar. “Right this way.”
He led us toward a large door on the far end of the throne room. It swung open at his approach—magic no doubt—to reveal a room that was in some ways similar to the throne room, with its murals, statuary, and ornamental classical columns. The most obvious differences were the absence of thrones and the presence of long tables in the banquet hall.
“Please be seated.” Alksandar gestured to the nearest chairs. “I will have something prepared and rejoin you as soon as I can.”
The sound of the guards gasping drew my attention back toward the door. Ptah had entered carrying someone blue-skinned—another former god, presumably. But even from a distance, I could tell that whoever it was had severe wounds.
“He needs repair!” said Ptah in a tone more suited to a command than a statement.
“Summon the chief rabbi at once!” said Pharaoh.
“Garth and I are both healers,” said Matteo. “Perhaps we can help.”
As Ptah laid the injured man on the nearest table, I couldn’t help but notice that, although the man’s clothing was torn, revealing severe gashes in his flesh, there wasn’t even a drop of blood.
Noticing my gaze, Alksandar positioned himself between me and the injured man. “His condition is unusual. I’m afraid that there is nothing you and your friends can do.”
I was grateful for the reading Elsu kept pushing on me during the time I’d been in New Colchis. That was all that enabled me to out together the little bits of information I had—Ptah’s use of repair instead of a word like treatment or healing, and the summons to the chief rabbi instead of whoever the staff healer was.
“He’s a golem,” I muttered, half to myself. “You’re using golems to house the souls of the old gods.”
I immediately realized I shouldn’t have blurted that out. Apparently, it was a well-kept secret. Pharaoh Alksandar looked at me with murder in his eyes.
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Well, now I need to read the other parts!!