So why had she not killed him, as the Cobra insisted? He had shown her the poison he had selected from his jars and pouches. It would be a simple enough task, and the threat Piay posed to their success would be eliminated.

  She’d refused. The deaths of the guards at the palace still haunted her. At first, she’d told herself that she didn’t care who died so she could achieve her ends, but that wasn’t true. For all that the Cobra had tried to persuade her to let him kill the man who claimed to have been her lover, she could never quite bring herself to give the order.

  Now she told herself that was of no consequence. He posed no danger, and he meant nothing to her.

  Myssa forced herself to drag her attention away from the drugged, motionless body and to look up the vast wall of stone to the summit of the pyramid and the glimmering stars beyond. The Cobra and his acolytes had told her all she needed to know. She had the Eye of Horus and the Disc of Ra in her pouch at her side.

  She was ready to unlock the mystery that lay within.

  T

  he baboon bounded out of the trees and squatted on a slab of granite. The air was suddenly thick with its musk, a smell so pungent that Piay’s nostrils flared. The beast threw its head back and unleashed a rolling chattering that burst into a series of barks. In the forest a sound erupted as if a thousand wings were flapping, but Piay saw no birds soar up from the high branches.

  Once the greeting was done, the creature lowered its head and stared directly at Piay. Those eyes crackled with an unsettling intelligence that was more suited to man than beast, the black centres glinting with the pale reflection of the moon, though it was day and no moon hung overhead.

  ‘You are a messenger from Khonsu,’ Piay breathed.

  The baboon howled at the moon and listened to Khonsu’s response. The god acted through them, and always had.

  ‘Am I dead?’ Piay asked. ‘Are you welcoming me to the afterlife? Will I sit at the feet of Khonsu?’

  The beast continued to stare.

  ‘What message do you have for me?’

  ‘Wake!’ The baboon roared the word.

  Piay’s heart thumped in shock to hear it.

  ‘Wake! Seth is coming!’

  Piay’s eyelids fluttered and a ruddy light flooded his vision.

  ‘The gods have smiled . . .’

  Ankhu’s voice drifted from somewhere nearby as Piay blinked until his sight cleared. He was lying under a shelter, a cool breeze billowing the grimy cloth above him. The shadows were long, and everything was painted with the crimson glow of the setting sun.

  The scribe leaned over him and mopped his brow with a dirty strip of cloth.

  ‘We thought you were dead.’

  Hannu loomed over Piay. His assistant scowled as if he was sorry that he had somehow survived, but Piay heard the concern in his voice.

  ‘How long has passed?’ Piay croaked.

  ‘Most of a day.’

  Ankhu leaned over him, searching his eyes for anything that might be of concern.

  ‘We found you lying at the foot of the monument in a sleep like death,’ Hannu said. ‘If it was up to Adon, you’d already have been prepared for the afterlife. It was Ankhu who insisted that there was still some spark in you.’

  Piay pushed himself up on his elbow. Every part of him ached. Deep in his head, though, he could still hear that baboon’s roar.

  ‘You must recover,’ Ankhu said, trying to push Piay back down.

  ‘No. We cannot rest, not even for a moment. Seth is coming.’

  ‘Seth?’ Ankhu said.

  Piay told the story of what had happened to him, his words tumbling over one another.

  ‘In my vision, I was warned by Khonsu,’ he concluded, ‘and that can only mean one thing – Myssa has already ventured into the Pyramid of Khufu and found what she was looking for.’

  ‘The lookouts saw nothing,’ Hannu said.

  ‘I should have listened to you,’ Piay said. ‘I should never have tried to fool Myssa. Now we’ve just got to try to catch up.’ He looked at Ankhu. ‘You said you knew where the hidden entrance was . . .’

  ‘I know roughly where it is.’

  ‘Then let’s go and find it.’

  The dying sun had turned the western desert to a patchwork of red sand and pools of shadow. The camp was still – no song, no aromas of cooking food – and in that light it seemed that a dismal atmosphere had settled heavily over the remaining tents.

  The three men clambered up the crumbling stones of the monument, then Ankhu paused, looked around and started pointing to places where the entrance could be, while Hannu and Piay scrambled from one possible site to another. At first, they found nothing but solid, immovable masonry. But then they came to a slab that half-covered a hole leading into the pyramid.

  Ankhu sighed. ‘The slab has been moved.’

  ‘Myssa has been inside,’ Piay said. ‘She made no attempt to cover her tracks. Why should she? She has what she wants and now she has gone.’ He looked towards that red slash across the horizon. The dark seemed to be drawing in too fast. ‘She was cleverer than all of us.’

  ‘Then it is over,’ Hannu said. ‘We have lost.’

  Piay pushed his chin up. ‘I won’t accept that. And Myssa did make one mistake . . . I don’t know why, but she let me live.’

  ‘So what can we do?’ Hannu asked. ‘We don’t know what Myssa found, or where Imhotep’s signs will lead her next.’

  Piay heard the baboon’s roar again.

  ‘Well, we can’t give up now. There has to be a way. Khonsu wouldn’t have come to me if it was hopeless.’

  Ankhu sat down on the rough stone beside Piay and looked towards the western horizon.

  ‘If you have truly been chosen by the gods, then you must have a special strength. One that may not be visible to those around you,’ the scribe added with a smile.

  Hannu grabbed a fragment of stone and hurled it out across the void.

  ‘Would recklessness be a strength?’

  Piay pondered.

  ‘Bravado in the face of all reason,’ Hannu continued.

  ‘And a silver tongue,’ Ankhu added, still smiling.

  Piay raised a finger. ‘All right, I know, those things are weaknesses. But I am who I am, and Khonsu has seen fit to give me this role. So all I can do is be reckless for one last time, a final gamble, with all that I have left as a wager.’

  ‘So, what do you have left?’ Hannu asked.

  ‘My life. That’s it.’

  Only a thin band of red wavered on the horizon.

  ‘I can’t outwit Myssa,’ Piay continued in a low voice, ‘but I can confront her, face to face. Speak to her as a man who loved her, and get her to speak to me as a woman who once loved me.’

  Hannu’s silence told him what his assistant thought of this plan.

  ‘We can still catch them,’ Piay pressed. ‘The trail across the waste will be easy to follow. And they won’t have gone too far from here. Myssa still needs to be close to the pyramid.’

  ‘How do you know that? What if she’s solved the whole riddle?’

  Piay gave a wry smile. ‘Hannu, the prize is the power to be one with the gods and change the world forever. If Myssa had already found it, don’t you think we’d all know by now? Look around . . . do you see any great changes?’

  ‘Fine – the puzzle still needs completing. But suppose you track her down . . . Then what? The two of us against a whole company of Hyksos?’

  ‘No, this is just between me and Myssa.’

  Ankhu turned to Piay, the lines in his face growing starker in the thin light.

  ‘You’re certain this is the path you choose?’

  ‘I’ve tried hating Myssa. I’ve tried telling myself that she means nothing to me. But the truth is, I can’t abandon her now, even if it costs me my life. And . . .’ Piay paused and gave a mirthless little laugh. ‘I know that this sounds crazy, but I think she’s in danger.’

  ‘Wait,’ Hannu said. ‘That woman’s got a small army of Hyksos and you’re all by yourself . . . and she’s the one in danger? Have you completely lost your mind?’

  ‘No, I mean it . . . Listen, Myssa tried to persuade me that she was in control of the people around her, and that she’d never bow down to any man. But I still think the Cobra is using her, even if she won’t admit it. And if he reckons she’s found the answer to Imhotep’s puzzle in the pyramid, then the Cobra won’t need her any longer. Her time is running out.’

  ‘That is what drives you on this final desperate attempt to stop Imhotep’s secrets falling into the wrong hands?’ the scribe said. ‘Not preventing the rise of Seth upon this world and the return of the Hyksos?’

  Piay looked into the older man’s face, but he felt that if he spoke he would choke upon his words. He had never felt so desperate in his life.

  Yet instead of berating him, Ankhu only nodded. ‘I understand.’

  T

  he three men clambered back down the side of the monument in the moonlight. When they reached the ground, Hannu muttered that he would go in search of some bread and a water hide for Piay to take with him.

  Ankhu stripped off his robe and the scarf that was tied around his head.

  ‘Wear these,’ he said. ‘If you are seen from a distance, they will think you a desert wanderer and leave you alone.’

  Piay pulled the garment over his head and wrapped the scarf tight.

  ‘I’m in your debt.’

  ‘If I have to walk back to Memphis naked, I will make sure that debt is paid in full,’ Ankhu said with a chuckle.

  He wandered away towards the camp, still chuckling, his body as wrinkled as a dried fig.

  Piay strode back to his shelter and sat down cross-legged, waiting for Hannu to return. In the dark and the stillness, his thoughts drifted to Myssa and he felt a yearning deep in his heart.

  Closing his eyes, he cast his mind back and was once again lost in the lush pleasures of her kiss. Her warm body pressed against him, her breasts heaving against his chest. That moment when they had first embraced would be etched in his mind forever.

  It had been in that lonely land of the great apes, a short walk from a secluded beach, on the edge of the vast steaming jungle. He could still feel the moisture misting his skin, still breathe in the heavy scents of the hot vegetation and—

  Suddenly a taut line lashed across his throat, and Piay felt himself yanked back. Thrashing, he clawed at the constriction, feeling the roughness of a hide rope biting into his flesh. Strong hands wrenched it tighter still.

  His heels kicked out against the ground but found no purchase. Powerful hands dragged him further back until he was pressed hard against a bare chest. His nostrils flared at the sharp reek of sweat.

  The noose was so tight Piay could not stab his fingers beneath it to attempt to loosen it. Pain lanced through his neck and shoulders from where it cut into his flesh. When he lashed out in a desperate, flailing attempt to break his captor’s grip, he could not reach whoever was behind him.

  His lungs ached from the lack of air.

  Darkness swelled around the edges of his vision.

  Then Piay felt a jolt and the pressure around his neck loosened. A body crashed into the sand as the hide rope fell away. Piay collapsed, sucking in huge lungfuls of air.

  Rolling over, he looked back at his attacker. Adon was sprawled on the ground, dazed, the hide rope still trailing from one hand.

  Hannu loomed over him. His sword was in his hand, and it seemed that he had cracked the hilt against the taskmaster’s skull.

  As Adon recovered, he tried to force himself up. Hannu stepped over him and stabbed his blade towards the prone man’s chest. The tip bit into the flesh and a bubble of blood burst.

  ‘What is this?’ Hannu snarled.

  ‘Don’t hurt me,’ Adon babbled. ‘I bear no grudge.’

  ‘No grudge?’ Piay rubbed the stinging sensation away from his raw neck. ‘You tried to kill me!’

  ‘Speak,’ Hannu snapped at Adon, ‘or I’ll kill you.’

  The taskmaster looked from Hannu to Piay and back.

  ‘Zahur and Lord Harrar ordered me to commit this act once you had given up all that you knew of where the gold was buried.’

  ‘You knew it was gold?’ Piay said.

  Adon nodded. ‘They promised me a fine reward if I did their bidding.’

  Hannu lifted his blade and stepped back. ‘Run from this place as fast as your legs will carry you. If you see my face again, it will be the last thing you glimpse.’

  The taskmaster did not need to be told twice. He scrambled out of the shelter and his pounding footsteps disappeared into the night.

  Piay slumped back on one elbow in relief, still rubbing his neck.

  ‘Harrar and Zahur were always going to want our imaginary gold for themselves.’

  ‘The two of them could be brothers,’ Hannu spat. ‘So much in common, and none of it good.’

  ‘I won’t forget this,’ Piay said. ‘If I ever get back to Memphis, then Harrar and Zahur should be very afraid.’

  ‘There’s still time to change your mind about Myssa.’

  Piay shook his head. ‘I can’t. This is my only hope of saving her. And it’s not just about her, whatever Ankhu said. This is my only hope of stopping the Cobra and saving Egypt, too.’

  Hannu sheathed his sword. ‘All right, your mind’s made up.’ His voice was quiet, his face lost to shadow. ‘I’ll pray to the gods that you survive. And if you don’t—’

  ‘Don’t say another word,’ Piay interrupted. ‘I won’t even think about failure. I’ve got no choice. I have to win – whatever the cost.’ And then he smiled at Hannu. ‘But even if you can’t help me getting in, you can definitely help me getting out.’

  ‘Ah . . . right,’ Hannu said. ‘That old trick.’

  ‘Yes,’ Piay said. ‘That one.’

  T

  he moon floated on the black surface of the still lake. The wind had fallen and the palms had ceased their rustling. All was peaceful across the oasis.

  Myssa stood in the entrance to her tent and looked out across the camp. She breathed in the heavy musk of the horses and the sharp, fruity tang of their dung, listening to the stamp of their hooves.

  Not far away, a fire glowed through the tight jumble of tents. The gruff voices of the warriors drifted with the smell of the woodsmoke as they refought the brutal battles of the Hyksos retreat from the Lower Kingdom. They eagerly imagined new glories once they had uncovered the prize for which they were searching, the spells that would renew the vigour of the Hyksos and allow them once again to rule this land.

  Myssa paid no mind to their fantasies. These were not her people; this was not her land. With the gold that came with Imhotep’s spells, she would buy a passage back to her home in the hot south and return to the life she knew. She would rebuild her village, bring back her scattered people, make them strong enough to resist any attack by the hated slavers. There was nothing to keep her in Egypt.

  Except . . .

  Myssa pushed aside that stray thought. Unsettling emotions seemed to assail her more and more these days, and she had no notion from where they were rising. But she woke each morning with a feeling that something was missing. What it was, she could not tell, but it was a thirst she could never seem to assuage.

  She would not let it stand in her way, though; of that, at least, she was certain.

  Sparks swirled up as a sod of straw and dried dung was tossed on the fire. Myssa looked around the small camp. The acolytes would be in their tents, poring over their scrolls. Where the Cobra was, she had no idea. Tallus was a law unto himself, disappearing into the desert to conduct his strange rituals to Seth whenever the mood took him.

  Since Akkan’s demise, he had continued to play the part of humble advisor, but Myssa was sure that he was simply biding his time. Tallus had his own aims. What they were, precisely, Myssa could not say. She just knew that he could not be trusted.

  She stepped back into her tent and let the flaps fall shut. The light from the lamp wavered as the air current shifted and the acrid smell of the oil filled the small space. Tallus no doubt thought her oblivious to his machinations. He was really not so different from the priests in the Temple of Amun in Thebes: her skin and her sex would always make her inferior in his eyes, no matter how often she proved herself as a leader. But she was watching him closely. Should he make a move against her, she would be ready. Her knife was never far from her fingers.

  Myssa had lied to Tallus about what she’d discovered in the Pyramid of Khufu, telling him it would take long days to decipher it by matching the Disc of Ra to the stars above.

  That would keep him at bay, at least for a while. In that time, she had to work out a way of getting back to the monuments, alone, and finishing the journey that would take her to Imhotep’s prize.

  Myssa sat cross-legged on the ground and pulled the leather pouch out from beneath the blanket she used to keep the chill of the night at bay. She glanced inside. The Eye of Horus and the Disc of Ra were there, and there was no reason why they should not be, for she never let these items stray from her person.

  The flap of the tent shifted as if someone was about to enter.

  ‘Who’s there?’ Myssa said.

  The flap shifted again and a cat pushed its way inside. Myssa felt a shiver of surprise. This was the animal that had followed her out of the city of Bubastis and had attached itself to her on that journey across half the world, until, for some reason, it had abandoned her when she had seized the Eye of Horus and the Disc of Ra at the palace in Memphis.

  So why was it here with her now?

  The cat made itself comfortable in the circle of light thrown by the lamp. Its eyes were huge, and it stared at Myssa as if trying to communicate.

  ‘What is it you want?’ she breathed, suddenly rediscovering another suppressed emotion: she had missed her faithful companion.