With that, he sprang away from Hannu, then turned and raced into the rushes. Splashing into the water, his hands still tied behind his back, he waded waist-deep, making a desperate lunge for the skiff that still floated by the bank.

  Hannu grunted in annoyance and began to shuffle after the man, but he stopped abruptly when he saw a dark shape gliding beneath the water’s surface. Seconds later, the crocodile’s jaws closed with bone-crushing force on the flailing fisherman’s midsection. He barely had time to cry out before he was dragged down into the depths.

  Hannu watched as the ripples dissipated and the river calmed. At last, he glanced around and saw that he was now alone – the woman and her daughter had fled while he had been distracted by the fisherman’s cruel end.

  ‘Avaris . . .’ he muttered to himself as he looked down at the blood on his hands. ‘Avaris.’

  • • •

  T

  aita stirred from a restful sleep as the sun began to pink the sky in the east and the first light of day filtered into his chamber. The palace was already awake. He breathed in the aroma of baking bread drifting up from the ovens in the kitchens, and listened to the chatter of the slaves floating into his room from the yard.

  Having dressed and readied himself for the day, Taita strode out into the passage and descended to the Hall of Audiences, where the nomarch was already at work.

  ‘You’re late,’ Piay muttered, looking up from a thick stack of papyrus as Taita entered, meeting him with bloodshot eyes.

  It was true. Taita’s well-worn custom had always been to rise before the dawn, but he had allowed himself a small concession ahead of the task which stood before them.

  ‘And what time does the nomarch commence his governance each day?’

  ‘I do not often indulge in the luxury of sleep anymore,’ Piay replied. ‘Dreams are no longer a source of comfort. Myssa is always there – waiting for me. And then I must wake to the fact that she is gone before me to the afterlife, and in her place I’ve been left with this . . .’ He gestured at the papyrus in front of him.

  ‘There is one cure, and one alone,’ Taita replied, ignoring the emotion in Piay’s voice. ‘Time. You must let your loss settle into you, become a part of you, and then you will be able to live with it.’

  ‘That is easy for you to say,’ Piay snapped.

  Taita looked on Piay sternly. ‘Do you think I petitioned Pharaoh to make you nomarch for no reason? You are bound to the people of Memphis by his decree, and only the God-Pharaoh Rameses has it in his power to set this duty aside . . . I know what is in your heart. It was in my heart, too, after the death of my mistress. But I had two princesses and a king to care for. They needed me, just as your people need you.’

  Despite his harsh tone, Taita felt deep sympathy for Piay. It was the curse of long life – to see those who found their way into your heart wither and die. He would not have wished his own fate on anyone as young as Piay.

  ‘Yesterday, I walked the streets from the palace to the vault,’ Taita continued. ‘Do you know what I saw?’

  ‘I do not.’ Piay’s tone was cold.

  ‘I saw men and women, finally free of Hyksos oppression, terrified that a new evil had come amongst them. But when they saw me, their mood lifted – they believe that I will save them, that we will save them.’

  ‘And how will we do this?’

  ‘We will need the palace garrison, every man.’

  • • •

  A

  s the two men strode from the palace to the vault, Taita inhaled the cool morning air. He had always loved this time of the day, when the sky paled in the east and the first glow of sunrise shed its beauty on the Nile. The oppressive heat of the day would come, but for now it felt as if all the world was in harmony.

  The palace garrison had been drawn up outside the vault, as Piay had commanded. When the men saw Taita approaching with the nomarch, they gathered in a crescent, waiting for their orders.

  ‘We can be certain of some aspects in the matter of the murder of Djau-Aa,’ Taita began, ‘so let us consider them. Firstly, that the missing gold was taken by men. Secondly, that because of the mysterious nature of the theft, this crime has been long in the planning. With a well-guarded vault, there was no opportunity for chance. Finally, we can say with some confidence that Djau-Aa, a man who devoted himself to learning and made no enemies in this world, was murdered because he was not expected to be in the vault at that hour . . .’ Taita swept an arm towards Piay. ‘Due to your great success, Nomarch, Djau-Aa stayed late to keep pace with the flow of returned gold. And his diligence was his undoing.’

  Taita paused, looking up at the sky. It was a deliberately theatrical gesture. He had always enjoyed an audience – it was a weakness he allowed himself.

  ‘I suspect that whoever came for the gold, found the scribe there amongst the stacks,’ Taita continued. ‘They could not risk Djau-Aa raising the alarm, or identifying them, so they slit his throat. That paints a picture of the events. Now we must think about the “how” of the matter. How was this done? And to this question there can be only one answer. If the vault was sealed . . . the doors locked, the drawbars in place . . . If trusted guards stood at the entrance, ensuring no one beyond Djau-Aa came and went, then there must be another way into the vault.’

  Piay frowned. ‘Another way?’

  Taita held out one hand towards the heap of discarded masonry. ‘This vault is newly constructed. Its purpose was always well known – to store the treasures looted from this city during the years of Hyksos rule, wealth beyond imagining. A crafty man might well have found a way to ensure a hidden passage could be added.’

  ‘Surely this would have been noticed?’ Piay said.

  ‘Perhaps. Perhaps not. But a hidden way into the vault is the only explanation.’

  ‘Now I understand why you asked for so many men to be present this morning,’ Piay said. He turned to Ahmose. ‘Captain, take your men into the vault, check every stone, every joint. Find this passage.’

  ‘And once it has been discovered,’ Taita added with conviction, ‘it will lead us to the perpetrator of this terrible crime.’

  As the soldiers trooped into the vault, Taita’s thoughts turned to the one thing that still troubled him: the sign of Anubis.

  • • •

  B

  y the time the column of soldiers and the lone chariot leading them reached the Great Pyramid of Khufu on the Plateau of Giza, the heat was beating down upon them like the mallets of the goldsmiths of Peru-nefer, the hot wind stirring whirls of mica dust around their feet.

  Stepping down from the chariot, Taita felt a prickle of excitement as he stared up at the vast mountain of pale stone rising from the rolling sands. The sheer scale of the endeavour, the meticulous workmanship, even without the gold capstone that would have made the edifice glow like a beacon for as far as the eye could see – it was the dream of Egypt given form in stone.

  ‘Does this sight not make your heart beat faster?’ Taita asked Piay, as the captain of the Blue Crocodiles took the reins from the nomarch.

  ‘You forget what happened here,’ Piay replied. ‘I feel no joy setting foot in the necropolis.’

  ‘Power beyond imagining lies here,’ Taita mused, as if he hadn’t heard Piay’s words, his gaze drifting across the two smaller pyramids to the Sphinx. ‘One thousand years ago Imhotep foresaw a time when Egypt would face trials that could well destroy her. The spells he hid away could bring salvation, but only in the hands of the wisest man of that coming age, so he believed.’

  Piay nodded distractedly, then began to lead the way around the pyramid to a pile of rock and freshly dug sand a spear’s throw from the base of the monument. There, Taita’s breath caught in his chest at the sight of a figure moving towards him, with burning eyes, a tattoo of a living skull covering his face, the black ink around his eyes and nose stark against the man’s pale skin.

  Slowly, Taita began to perceive that there were more of them, all standing at a distance. It was as if they were materialising out of the desert air, the curved bronze of their swords glinting in the midday heat. The Sons of Apis were indeed terrifying to behold. Taita lost count at fifty men, if men they truly were.

  The leader of the phantoms approached Piay, who nodded as he muttered something, gesturing to Taita. The skull-faced man turned and bowed deeply. ‘Lord Taita, the Sons of Apis have long awaited your coming.’

  Taita could sense something in the man’s sonorous delivery, a way of speaking that indicated to him that the Sons of Apis were much older than ordinary men. Older, even, than he was. He glanced curiously at Piay.

  ‘The Sons of Apis have guarded the spells of the Great Architect for a thousand years. Now the day they have waited for has come. This is their last task.’

  The leader gazed at Taita. ‘My lord Imhotep intended this chamber and its sacred contents for you alone, Lord Taita. Now you have come to take possession of it, I ask that my brothers and I, who have faithfully guarded this great secret through the ages, may finally approach the very power we have so long protected, and obtain admission to the afterlife. It is a reward we were promised many lifetimes ago.’

  Taita was moved by the leader’s request. ‘Go,’ he replied kindly. ‘Be at peace.’

  The leader of the Sons of Apis bowed his head once more, then turned to face the pile of rocks. Dropping to his knees, he dragged the last stones away until a dark hole appeared – the entrance to a hidden tunnel.

  Without looking back, he swung himself down through the aperture, disappearing into the dark.

  One by one, the other Sons of Apis approached the entry and descended, until at last, Taita and Piay were left alone.

  ‘Will you accompany me?’ Taita asked Piay. ‘I am sure the examination of the city vault will still take some time.’

  Piay shook his head. He was staring into the dark tunnel as if looking into the seething heart of the Duat – the underworld itself. ‘Myssa gave her life in those depths. I went back once, but only to reclaim her body. I will not go down there again.’

  Taita nodded. ‘Very well. Return to Memphis. Leave the chariot and one of the Blue Crocodiles. I will meet you back at the Temple of Ptah as soon as I have inspected the tomb.’ He shifted his gaze back to the tunnel. ‘What lies in there may provide the means to complete the reunification of the two lands of Egypt and defend it against our future enemies.’

  ‘I have seen the spells, and felt their power,’ Piay said when he at last found his voice. ‘Be careful – the tomb is treacherous.’

  ‘I have no reason to fear it. It holds knowledge that was meant for me.’

  Piay nodded. ‘You will find a torch below. As a final duty, the Sons of Apis have prepared the tomb for your arrival.’ Then he bowed and turned to make his way back to the waiting soldiers.

  Taita lowered himself into the gently sloping, granite-lined tunnel. The dank air instantly caught at the back of his throat. He shivered at the thought that barely a foot had trodden upon the stones since they had been laid a thousand years earlier.

  Taita saw a torch, a flint and a fire-striker in the dim light filtering down from the entrance. Cracking the flint, he lit the torch, his nostrils wrinkling as he was enveloped in a swirl of smoke tainted with the bitter scent of pitch. Holding the flaming brand high, he chased the shadows down the tunnel.

  Taita felt his skin begin to tingle as he finally stepped into the stone chamber that lay under the Great Pyramid of Khufu. Raising his torch, he saw a sarcophagus in the centre of the chamber, miraculously untouched by the grave-robbers who had plundered so many of the other ancient tombs. The flickering light washed across the smooth granite surface, unmarked by symbols that would have revealed the name of the one who lay within. But there could be no doubt – this was the final resting place of the Great Architect.

  Gold glittered in the gloom: a chalice filled with a mixture of castor oil and natron, beneath which lay four small lamps. Taita knew the mixture well, having used it many times in his long life – a fuel which allowed an artisan to light up their work without staining it with soot. Lighting the wicks, Taita positioned a lamp in each corner of the tomb and then stepped back in wonder. Across the span of the walls, glowing with the same brilliance as the day they had been painted a millennium before, were the gods’ words, the medu neter. The spells ran from ceiling to floor in brilliant cascades of red, white, green, black and blue, seeming to shimmer and quake and dance, their power radiating before his eyes.

  Taita, his mouth agape in wonder, stepped forward. Tracing his fingers across the symbols, his lips began to move as he silently read the entreaties to the gods that Imhotep had left behind – entreaties that were at once, somehow, before him, there to be spoken, and yet hidden and unutterable at the very same time. Taita felt an inexhaustible energy coursing through him. The force that lay here! Power to summon the gods themselves to walk amongst men, so that they might aid them in their endeavours. Power to bring the two kingdoms of Egypt back together; power to protect the great land from future harm. Fire coursed from his fingertips to his heart.

  Taita sighed. It would take him an age to decipher all the knowledge amassed on the walls of Imhotep’s tomb, but time was what he had been given. Perhaps this is why I have been blessed with long life, he thought to himself. Perhaps in this work, he would finally discover the gods’ purpose for him.

  Taita edged around the walls, allowing the spells to lead him. Finally, he came to one that was longer and somehow more vibrant than the others. When he reached for it, it seemed to pulsate, inviting him into a chasm that it was somehow opening in the wall in front of him. Studying the spell, he began to understand that it was an incantation allowing a mortal to step into the everlasting realm of the gods.

  Was this what had allowed Imhotep to leave the mortal world and begin an eternal quest for knowledge? Taita stared at the gods’ words, feeling a wave of euphoria rise inside of him.

  Fighting the urge to utter the spell aloud, he stepped back to the centre of the chamber and settled down with his back against the sarcophagus. Closing his eyes, Taita let his mind drift with the beat of his heart, listening to the whispers that filled the tomb – whispers that seemed to come from the spells themselves.

  • • •

  T

  he medu neter still gripped Taita’s mind as he took the reins of the nomarch’s chariot and slowly began to turn the horses back towards Memphis. The soldier Piay had left to guard the horses eyed him suspiciously from under his helmet – it was clear that Taita had returned a different person from the one who had entered Imhotep’s tomb.

  When Taita had finally torn himself away from the walls of the tomb, aware that Piay and the men of the palace garrison would be waiting for him back in the city, it was with one of the lesser spells on his lips. The dismissal of the Sons of Apis meant that Imhotep’s tomb was now, after a thousand years, unguarded, so the responsibility of protecting what lay inside was now Taita’s. As he uttered the sacred words, the stones around the entrance to the tunnel seemed to bend and meld together like molten glass, closing and hiding the tomb. The power had been intoxicating, and even as he turned away, Taita felt an urge to return and drink more deeply from the wisdom that Imhotep had left behind.

  Stirring from his thoughts as the gate of the city loomed ahead of him, Taita took a sip from the waterskin that hung on the side rail of the chariot. The colours of the medu neter were slowly fading from his mind, the power of the spells withdrawing, leaving him feeling refreshed in body and spirit. It was as if he could see everything clearly for the first time – the world around him vibrating with light and detail.

  The chariot rattled along the winding Memphis streets until Taita drew the horses to a halt outside the Temple of Ptah.

  Piay stepped out of the entrance hall, shaking his head. ‘The men have laboured all morning, but they have found no sign of any passage.’

  ‘I thought as much,’ Taita said.

  Piay frowned. ‘You did?’

  ‘Do not mistake me. The passage is there. But it has been constructed with such skill that it is invisible to the eye.’

  Piay shifted with discomfort. ‘Then how will we find it?’

  ‘Come.’ Taita gestured to Piay to follow him as he strode through the temple and into the vault. ‘Bring ten bowls and space them equally along the stone there,’ he said, wagging his finger at the rear wall. ‘Once they are in place, make a small fire in each of them.’

  Piay shook his head, baffled by this command, but he summoned Ahmose and passed on the order.

  Soon tongues of flame licked up from the dried dung cakes stacked in the bronze incense bowls that Ahmose had obtained from the priests. In the enclosed space, the air thickened quickly with the acrid stink of burning.

  Taita watched the fires carefully. Smoke billowed up from all of the bowls, twisting across the ceiling of the vault, being drawn up and out through the great doors. From all the bowls except one. There the fire burned brightly, the flames consuming the fuel and getting stronger.

  ‘See,’ Taita said, pointing. ‘There is a draught from outside the vault.’

  ‘The passage,’ Piay said in amazement.

  ‘Search there, and I wager you’ll find stones that can be removed to reveal it.’

  Suddenly animated, Piay whirled his arms, commanding the soldiers into activity. ‘Get tools, and quickly. I want those stones taken up!’

  Three of the men were dispatched to the Masons’ Guild. When they returned a short time later, their arms were filled with chisels, adzes and mallets. They quickly set to work on the flagstones.

  Taita watched the frenzied labour as the hammering and clattering rang off the walls. Soon a channel had been opened up along the edge of one of the stones, wide enough for chisels to be inserted. With a great deal of heaving, the soldiers lifted it, pushing it up until it stood on one end against the wall.

  ‘It’s here!’ one of the men exclaimed.