Akkan laughed. ‘Bravado is all you have left. Enjoy it.’

  Myssa looked at Bast, and then pushed the tip of her foot towards the creature. The cat reared up, hissing as if she had been attacked, then darted away among the tents. Piay had never seen Bast behave like that. She and Myssa had been together from the day they first encountered each other.

  Akkan nodded to two of his men and they hauled Piay to his feet so that he and the Child-Killer could at least speak eye to eye.

  ‘So that hole . . . it’s the next clue?’ Piay asked.

  Akkan shrugged. ‘It’s no ordinary well, that’s for sure.’

  ‘What have you done to Myssa? She would never have brought you here of her own free will.’

  ‘On the contrary, she led us right here, quite willingly.’ Akkan smiled. ‘She was positively enthusiastic.’

  ‘What have you done to her?’ Piay repeated.

  ‘I can speak for myself,’ Myssa said.

  At least Piay could hear some of the woman he knew in the fire that seared those words.

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ he said, looking at her. ‘No one changes this much, this fast.’

  ‘Who are you to say that? I don’t even know you.’

  ‘What do you mean? We’ve been together, night and day, for so long. You love me! I love you!’

  Myssa turned to Akkan, the hint of a frown on her face.

  ‘What is this man talking about? I have never met him before in my life.’

  ‘This isn’t Myssa – this is sorcery!’ Piay shouted, unable to hide his desperation.

  ‘Believe what you will,’ the Child-Killer replied, his voice perfectly calm. ‘But this woman will be my bride. Meanwhile, you will be dead and she will never even think of you again.’

  Piay looked deep into Myssa’s eyes. He vowed that he would never doubt her, never give in to despair. He had known her love, and had told her his deepest secrets, just as she had shared hers. That Myssa – the one who knew and loved him – still existed somewhere, hidden inside the cold, hard shell that Akkan and the Cobra had somehow created. He would find some way to bring her back, or die trying.

  Akkan glanced over at Khin.

  ‘And you, brother. What am I to do with such a treacherous dog? You betrayed me. Tried to steal from me. Naturally, you failed, as you would. So, what will I do with you now, brother? What will I do?’

  Khin looked away. Akkan continued to stare at the prone form, a look so filled with loathing that it was a punishment in itself.

  The Cobra strode up, leaning on his staff.

  ‘We cannot afford to waste time here. Now that the Sons of Apis know where we are and what we’re doing, they’ll keep coming back until they have destroyed us.’

  ‘I am not the one wasting time,’ Akkan said. ‘This is our second day here – and how many dead? Five?’

  ‘Six.’

  ‘And you’re still no closer to finding the answer.’ The Child-Killer’s voice was full of frustration.

  ‘On the contrary,’ Tallus said, and Piay, hearing those words, turned to pay closer attention to their conversation. He was curious to discover how the Child-Killer would take to being contradicted in front of his own men.

  Akkan was taken aback for an instant, but then he composed himself and, in a voice that was all the more menacing for the politeness of his words, said, ‘Really? Perhaps you would care to explain why I am mistaken.’

  ‘We have not solved the riddle that Imhotep has set us,’ Tallus said, ‘but we do at least understand its workings.’

  ‘Go on . . .’ Now Akkan’s curiosity was entirely genuine.

  ‘This is a puzzle of the body, and solid, physical things, as well as of the mind. Imhotep used his skills as an architect and builder to turn what appears to be a simple shaft into a maze. About halfway down, there’s a slab which seems to block the way. From what the men who’ve gone down there have told us, it seems to be counterweighted so that when you step upon the correct area, it tips, allowing access to the next slab below. And so on. Each slab must slot back into place before the one beneath it opens. When a slab closes, it does so completely, yet somehow the rope we use to lower our explorer is not cut. How that is done, we do not know, either.’

  Tallus paused, his eyes glassy. He was no doubt imagining that journey down into the dark, sealed as if in a tomb.

  ‘Imhotep’s skill is beyond any that I have known,’ the Cobra continued. ‘His maze is also a trap. If the one descending does not find the prize in good time, the pit floods with water, drowning him before he can make his way back out.’

  Piay found his thoughts drawn down into those dark depths, imagining the terror as water rushed in while the slab above was sealed shut. Each one of those captured farmers thrown in there to unlock its secrets had ended their lives trapped in absolute darkness, flailing as water was sucked into their noses and mouths and filled their lungs. A terrible death.

  Akkan was not remotely interested in the suffering of others, unless it was for his own entertainment.

  ‘How long will you need, and how many men?’

  Tallus shook his head, still staring into those depths. ‘Who knows?’

  ‘You will know,’ Akkan said, ‘and soon. I will hear no other excuses.’

  ‘Then we must do more than just throw farmers into this pit in the hope that they will solve this mystery for you. Imhotep did not construct his great puzzle for the benefit of ignorant peasants. Only a man of education and quick wits can even hope to comprehend the workings of a mind born of the gods themselves.’

  ‘Ah, Tallus, thank you.’ Akkan sighed, contentedly.

  ‘For what?’

  ‘Why, for answering my question. I was wondering what to do with my brother, who attacked me so treacherously. And now I know . . .’

  Akkan walked back to Khin and said, ‘You’ve always fancied yourself as a thinker. Sharp, cunning, smarter than any man you barter with. Well, here’s your chance to prove it.’

  Khin’s eyes widened. He could not believe what he was hearing, but when he looked into his brother’s face, he saw Akkan was absolutely serious. The Child-Killer was going to send Akh-Seth down the well.

  As if reading Khin’s mind, Akkan said, ‘Now let’s see who’s really the brother of Seth.’

  Khin thrashed back and forth, but his bonds held him tight. A high-pitched keening made its way through the scarf gagging him.

  ‘Come, brother, come,’ Akkan continued. ‘If anyone can find a solution to this puzzle it’s you. And I would think that saving your own neck will motivate you to bring me the answer I need.’

  As Khin continued to thrash, Akkan nodded to his warriors. Two of them kicked and beat their leader’s brother until he stopped his writhing. When he was still, they hauled Khin to his feet and wrenched the scarf from his mouth.

  ‘If I were you, I would not struggle,’ Akkan said. ‘If you struggle I’ll have to keep your hands bound – and then what will you do, down there?’

  ‘Don’t do it . . . please,’ Khin begged. ‘Yes, yes, I wronged you. I was a fool. Greedy. Proud. Tricked by that damned Egyptian. But I’ll make it up to you, I swear.’

  ‘Yes, you will,’ Akkan said. ‘On the end of that rope.’

  ‘Think of our time as children!’ Khin’s voice cracked.

  ‘When you beat me and kicked me and told the other children I was weak?’

  Khin mouthed some response, like a gulping fish on the riverbank, but he knew that whatever he said was futile, as they all did.

  ‘Very well,’ he said finally. ‘Maybe you’re right. If any man can solve this maze, why shouldn’t it be me?’

  Akkan grinned. ‘Very good. That’s the attitude we need.’

  The warriors slit Khin’s bonds and guided him to the edge of the hole, where they tied a long rope around his waist. Two of the strongest-looking Hyksos, massive slabs of meat and bone, took the other end of the rope.

  Khin stared down into the dark.

  Everyone in the camp gathered around the hole. Akkan gestured to Piay to stand beside him. Myssa was on Akkan’s other side.

  Now that he was close, Piay could see the quality of the craftsmanship in the stone facing of the shaft. The edges were so expertly cut he could not have slid a sliver of papyrus between the joins. But he could not see the bottom. What lay down there was a mystery that would only be solved by accepting the challenge that the Second Door offered to all who would enter it.

  Akkan leaned in to Piay and whispered, ‘Pray that Khin finds a way. Because you’re next.’

  Khin shook his trembling hands and cracked his knuckles.

  ‘I am ready.’

  ‘May the gods go with you, brother.’ Akkan sounded as sincere as if he was waving Khin off on a voyage along the river.

  The two warriors braced themselves as Khin lowered himself over the edge. His leather soles scraped on the smooth stone, slipping as he fought to find purchase. He slammed into the wall and cursed.

  The rope eased through the warriors’ hands. Khin disappeared from view.

  Piay stepped to the edge once more and peered in, hoping against hope that he would glimpse something that would help him. Khin dangled, bounced off the stone, his ruby-red robe disappearing into the darkness like blood dripping into ink.

  For what seemed an age, everyone stood around the hole and waited. No sounds emerged from within that shaft. Every now and then, Piay flashed glances at Myssa, not sure what he was hoping for, but she didn’t seem even to know that he was there. Her face had an odd blankness to it, as if she were drifting into sleep.

  Eventually, Akkan said, ‘Drag him out.’

  The two warriors heaved on the rope. Piay imagined those counterbalanced slabs shifting as the dead weight of Khin slammed against them. After a while, he heard the slap and slither of wet fabric on stone, and then the body of Akh-Seth emerged from the dark. The men pulled the corpse onto the earth and let the rope slip from their fingers.

  Akkan eyed the remains of his brother and shrugged.

  ‘He was not as cunning as I thought. Dispose of him with the others. Give the crocodiles another feast.’

  Piay was not surprised by the callousness the Child-Killer displayed, but there was no hint of compassion on Myssa’s face either.

  As Khin’s body was hauled away, Piay crouched by the hole, trying to work out whether there was, even now, some way out for him. But none came to mind. From the moment he entered the Second Door, he would either fail to solve the clues that lay within it, and be drowned or eaten by what lay below. Or, he solved the puzzle, returned with the secret and Akkan killed him anyway.

  First things first, he told himself. Just get to the bottom alive.

  The second his mind had focused on that sole priority, inspiration came to him like a blast of light from the Eye of Horus: Myssa had compared Imhotep to Taita.

  Well, I don’t know how Imhotep thought. But I certainly know Taita.

  Closing his eyes, Piay imagined himself as a child in Taita’s classroom. He heard his master’s mellifluous voice talking through this problem. It echoed as if from the depths of that pit. ‘Where does the water come from?’

  Looking up, Piay glanced past the tents to the river, close enough for him to hear it splashing over rocks in the shallows. This was no ordinary well that took its water from the earth down below. This was a tunnel to the river.

  So, it’s a way to get somewhere, Piay thought. Like that carved door in the temple represented a way to enter the land of the dead. And this goes underground, like the underworld.

  The rope had been untied from Khin’s lifeless waist. Piay hardly felt the hands that were now knotting it around him. His mind was on the lessons that he, like all educated Egyptians, had received about the path of the soul to the afterlife.

  First test, Piay thought. Ma’at, the goddess of truth, balance, harmony and justice weighs the heart against a single feather. If the heart is lighter or equal to the weight of the feather, the soul moves on to the next stage of judgement. If it’s heavier, the unworthy soul is devoured by Ammit, who is part lion, part hippopotamus, with the head of a crocodile . . . Like the farmers have been eaten, because they aren’t able to solve the puzzle!

  ‘What’s so amusing,’ Akkan said, spotting the broad grin on Piay’s face.

  ‘Oh, just remembering my schooldays.’

  Akkan shook his head and let out a sigh of contempt at such idiocy. Then Piay added, ‘By the way, if you want me to solve this puzzle, I need the Eye of Horus and a torch.’

  Now it was Akkan who laughed. ‘Are you mad? Do you really think I would hand over the single most precious object in the entire two kingdoms of Egypt?’

  ‘What choice do you have? You saw it yourself – we needed the Eye to illuminate the hidden message on the stone door in the necropolis. The clues can’t be solved without it. And the Eye doesn’t work its magic without the light of a torch. So either you give me the Eye . . . or you keep it and go down there yourself. See if you have any more luck than your brother.’

  Piay could hear Akkan’s men talking to one another. They seemed to reckon he’d made a fair point, for a grinning Egyptian idiot.

  Good, he thought. Now Akkan has to consider how he looks to his men.

  Piay pressed home whatever small advantage he might have.

  ‘Here’s my suggestion . . . Put the Eye in a pouch. Tie the pouch to my wrist. If I fail, you drag my body back out and you still have the Eye. If I succeed, you also drag me out, because where else can I go? Then, who knows, maybe you’ll thank me for doing you a big, big favour.’

  Again, this proposition seemed to find favour with the barrack-room lawyers behind him. Piay just prayed that none of the Hyksos had worked out that the well was linked directly to the river.

  The Cobra’s features remained impassive, but the scribes and advisors shuffled and looked at their feet. Piay felt proud of himself that he had reasoned his way through this puzzle, and was sure Myssa would be proud of him, too, once she was herself again.

  ‘Get him a torch,’ Akkan barked to one of his warriors. He turned to Tallus. ‘Give it to him.’

  Tallus had a small pouch hanging from a belt around his waist. He undid it, reached in, and Piay waited for the Eye to appear. But then Tallus frowned as a thought struck him, raised a hand and said, ‘One moment.’

  As the Cobra walked away, Akkan shouted after him, ‘Where in Seth’s name are you going?’

  ‘One moment!’ Tallus repeated, lifting his arm as if to silence Akkan.

  The Child-Killer’s brows lowered over his blazing eyes and Piay hoped for the priest’s sake that he had a good reason for his disappearance.

  Or he’ll be going down instead of me.

  Tallus returned holding a much bigger pouch.

  ‘That’s far too big for the Eye,’ Akkan said.

  ‘Indeed it is. But what if the Great Architect has left another, equally important treasure down there?’

  Akkan shrugged, grudgingly accepting the point.

  Tallus tied the pouch to the belt that held up Piay’s kilt and whispered into his ear, ‘The Eye is in there. No need for the men to see it.’

  Piay nodded. He stepped to the edge of the hole. Blood thundered in his head as he stared into what was little more than an open grave. All the evidence, all his reasoning, told him he was going to his death.

  With a deep breath, Piay eased himself into the dark.

  T

  he shadows danced away from the torchlight. Piay breathed in the dank air rising from below, braced his feet against the stone wall and lowered himself a few paces. Above him, curious faces were framed against the blue sky, but Piay’s attention was all on the depths where the dark still swelled. He could see no sign of the bottom.

  Swaying against the taut rope, Piay held the torch with his left hand, while his right rummaged around in the oversized pouch until he finally found the Eye of Horus. Then he positioned the Eye close to the stone facing, with the torch shining on it.

  The light blazed through the polished quartz onto the limestone blocks. Piay strained, searching for the lines of fire, previously invisible to the naked eye, that they had found in the necropolis.

  The stone facing was smooth and as unmarked as it must have been when Imhotep or his agents dug the pit and constructed the casing. Piay gritted his teeth in frustration, beginning a steady sweep around all four walls.

  ‘What do you see?’ the Cobra called down.

  ‘Nothing, yet.’

  Piay jolted the rope and the men holding it juddered him down a few more paces. Once again he moved the torch and the Eye of Horus across the stone slabs facing the shaft. Waves of light washed back and forth.

  ‘What do you see?’ Tallus called again.

  ‘Nothing,’ Piay barked back. His voice crackled with irritation. ‘Leave me be to search.’

  Another jolt, and he flexed his aching thighs as he walked down the wall again. He sucked in a deep draught of the chill air to try to ease the tension turning his neck and back muscles into cords, but he still felt as if he was teetering on the edge of the precipice.

  Gripping the brand tighter, he eased the brilliant glow across the slick stone. Piay strained to see the faintest detail. The white light moved, and then, with a jump of his heart, he glimpsed the fiery lines leap out of the stone.

  Piay had to stop himself calling out in jubilation. He had been right. He could scarcely believe it.

  ‘What do you see?’ the Cobra demanded.

  ‘Nothing,’ Piay lied.

  Decipher these symbols as fast as he could: that was his task now, so those above would not realise he had uncovered the key to solving this puzzle. At least, he hoped that’s what it was. The key to his survival. That was Piay’s prayer. And he did not want Akkan stealing this discovery from him, thinking he could easily replace him with one of his men. If he was hauled back to the surface there would only be a sharp blade waiting to greet him.

  Sweat prickled his brow.

  ‘Why are you taking your time?’ Tallus’ voice echoed down to him.