Reflections in the Nile (15 page)

Last night's catharsis had definitely helped her attitude, she thought.

Cheftu's hand on her back burned through the linen of her gown as he guided her toward the litters awaiting them. Although she would have preferred to stand beside him in the chariot, led by the two prancing browns, she understood that would not be appropriate. However, her curtain was partially open.

They passed through the ornamental city gates. The stone lintel was high above them, but the surrounding wall was very low. Noph had never been invaded, and the gate was not so much a defense as it was a frame for the magnificent temple in the center of town.

They passed through a marketplace. Hawkers were selling everything from Canaanite oranges to small dirt figures of Ptah planted with grain and now growing. They were supposed to forecast one's harvest. Chia gods, Chloe thought to herself with a chuckle.

Every few moments a food vendor would pass, the aroma of his wares wafting to her on the warm air. Fowl was sold, both fresh and roasted; honey-baked rolls with nuts wrapped in their centers; the salted fish that was forbidden to Chloe and most of the priesthood; fruits and sesame candy. It was almost like any Middle Eastern
souq
, with a glaring exception: no coffee sellers and no radios.

They turned right before the temple, going down a large avenue lined on both sides with huge whitewashed mansions. Each was surrounded with a fence and gate, but a few gates were open, sharing with the outside world a glimpse of flowering gardens and refreshing pools. They jogged along, the heat and motion making Chloe remember her stomach in a most unpleasant way. Just before she lost her lunch, they stopped.

Was this another of Cheftu's houses? Chloe searched her “other” memory, but the details of Cheftu's life and family were not there. Apparently an emotional memory, Chloe thought.

Her third-floor room was decorated simply; a ceiling border and wainscoting of blue lotus were painted on the whitewashed walls. In the corners of the ceiling were
ba
-birds. Chloe stepped closer. According to Egyptian thought, the
ba
-bird was a part of the soul that could leave the tomb after the person was dead. It was represented as a bird's head and the deceased's face. She smiled softly when the “other” told her she was looking at Cheftu's mother and father in their
ba
-bird forms.

With a sigh she sat down. A pillow graced the plain and ungilded couch, covered in fresh bleached linens. Chloe grimaced at the headrest. She hated the damn things and was tired of wadding up clothes to pad them. Then she touched the pillow and it collapsed beneath her fingers. Goose down. Praise Isis!

There was a simple dressing table and stool, and a game board was set up in one corner. Fresh lotus scented the room, and the sun gave light through the slatted clerestory windows. Chloe saw treetops and heard the melodic calling of birds. Once again, Cheftu's home was a peaceful haven.

A slave entered and led Chloe up to the roof. Noph was to her right and the river before her, boats tied to the dock and all along the shoreline. She saw people toiling in the fields to her left—fields that stretched for miles. The slave erected a cloth screen around the tub, and Chloe immersed herself in the warm water, leaning back as the sun caressed her skin and the woman washed her hair.

When her fingers began wrinkling, Chloe got out of the tub and wrapped herself in one of the linen towels provided. She walked back down the stairs, her eyes taking a few minutes to adjust to the dim room. Another woman, older this time, was there, sharpening a blade. She crossed her ample breast and asked Chloe to seat herself. Chloe watched in shock as the woman brought out silver shears and began to cut RaEm's ebony tresses. Chloe would have bolted, but the merest thought sent a wave of paralyzing terror through the “other.” To refuse would be admitting she was a
khaibit
or
kheft;
kind of like a Salem witch refusing communion and thus sealing her fate. Chloe sat motionless as the woman shaved her head bald with a silver razor.

She rubbed a heady perfume into Chloe's skin—frankincense, Chloe thought as she was wrapped in a simple white gown. Fortunately there was a headcloth, so that she looked less like an egg. The woman outlined Chloe's eyes with red kohl. Not a good look; her green irises faded to gray by contrast.

The “other” told her that red was symbolic of flesh, and since she was going to the temple for a cure of the flesh, this was another depiction of her need. For a moment the thought of Cammy seared through her; what she wouldn't give for just ten minutes with the “other”! I've
got
to remember this stuff to tell her when I return! Chloe held on to that comforting thought as the alien processes took place around her.

They arrived at the Temple-of-the-Ka-of-Ptah at dusk. It was still late winter, and a chill breeze blew through the light cloak Chloe had been given. The temple appeared to be empty; yet Chloe heard echoes of voices beyond them. Built along the same plan as Karnak, it grew smaller and darker the farther into it they walked. Cheftu was several steps behind her as they passed through a towering cluster of columns, engraved with hieroglyphs so archaic that Chloe could scarcely read them. They came to a cross-passageway. Now it was almost totally dark. She looked over her shoulder and saw the white of Cheftu's kilt and headcloth. He motioned with his head to the left, and they continued walking.

Every now and then the yowl of a cat or the glint of a jewel in the wall painting made her stop. Cheftu stood motionless behind her, close enough that she could feel his heat.

They walked into a huge room with three pools. The sense of space was incredible. She couldn't see the walls on the other side. The pools were also large, even for someone who had grown used to the kitchen-size pools in Karnak. Torches (thank the gods!) were mounted around the perimeter, and Chloe walked to the second one, the only one filled with water.

“Nay…” Cheftu's voice echoed through the chamber. She turned, and he beckoned her to the third one. Three's a charm, she thought blithely. The pool appeared to be covered with a smooth platform of some sort.

Cheftu clapped his hands and two figures stepped to his side. Chloe took a step back before she realized they were wearing masks. For a moment she was looking into the feral stare of Anubis and the vengeful glare of Sekhmet.

However, they were only people; even in the dancing light she could see their perfectly formed human bodies. They advanced on her, chanting, and Chloe realized they were going to strip her. Cheftu's gaze was on her; she couldn't see it, but she could definitely feel it Sekhmet held her shoulders while Anubis’ black hands untied her robe. Her blood zipped through her veins, sweat beading her upper lip. The “other” ordered her to follow commands in such a fierce tone that Chloe didn't budge. But her heart raced as she debated how to defend herself should it become necessary. They stepped back, leaving her as naked as her first day alive—minus the hospital bracelet. She reached for her necklace. They had taken it, too.

Cheftu stood with his back to her as he lit a huge bowl of incense. He keened a prayer, but Chloe didn't have time to listen. The “gods” had fastened themselves to her arms and were walking her to the edge of the pool. Without even a countdown, they pushed her onto the platform. She stifled her scream as what she thought was solid footing dissolved slowly around her, leaving her thigh deep and sinking.

Cammy never mentioned drowning in noxious substances. What was it? Why did she continue to sink? She was now up to her waist. Despite her audience, Chloe struggled, trying to pull out her right leg which only succeeded in forcing her left leg deeper. She looked up in panic. The two “gods” stood beside each other, mute as columns, and Cheftu was hidden by the smoke of frankincense.

She was on her own. I've survived officer's candidacy school, she thought, I can do this, too. Easy to think, but as the thick substance caressed her belly and began to engulf her breasts, it was hard to formulate a plan. Was she some type of sacrifice? The “other” was totally incommunicado. Cheftu continued his prayers, and Anubis and Sekhmet produced sistrum and flute and began to play, the rhythms uneven but moving.

What the hell am I supposed to do!

The mud—at least that's what she thought it was—seeped around her shoulders, cradling her body in a lover's embrace as she stopped sinking and began floating. It was warm and soft, the texture of the London Ritz's whipping cream. When it became obvious this was all there was to it, Chloe began to relax. If I were at Elizabeth Arden's, she thought, this would cost a cool fortune. Her head felt very light as she leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. It was painted with stars and a depiction of Nuit, the goddess of night, swallowing the sun god Ra and birthing him every morning. Across one of the walls was a drawing of stick figures, each a representation of a god of the hour. She was surprised to see her own name—but then again, it did mean the astrological time of eleven o'clock.

As her vision grazed the hieroglyphs and drawings, she saw something that made her want to move to the edge of the pool. She couldn't move directly across—it was like walking in slow motion—but when she relaxed completely, her legs floated up and she could drift on the first level of the mud, pulling forward with her hands. In the far corner was her name again and then a doorway that opened up to the hieroglyph “Otherworld.” Adrenaline pounded through her veins as Chloe squinted up to see the drawing above the doorway. She laid her head back in disappointment: only another bunch of stars.

Underneath it was what looked like a formula of some sort. It was a procession of alterations to her name:
RaEmhetepet, ReEmHetp-Ra, mes-hru-mesat Hru Naur RaEm Phamenoth, Aab-tPtah
… She translated. “Eleven o'clock in the evening, twenty-three after sun, natal day twenty-three times three, in the course of Ptah in the east …” But it was unfinished. Forgetting where she was, Chloe reached the edge of the pool, planted her muddy hands on the inlaid rim, and tried to lift herself. The mud sucked at her body and she gritted her teeth, using every ounce of strength left in her unexercised physique. Once past her hips, like a cork released from a bottle, she popped out.

She padded toward the corner, the mud on her body dripping a path, as she tried to see the other glyphs that time had erased. Cheftu's shout alerted her, and she turned. Anubis and Sekhmet were advancing with a linen towel stretched between them, their chanting loud and somewhat menacing. They wrapped her completely in it, not touching her once. Chloe was escorted over to Cheftu, who now knelt before the incense and appeared to be in a trance. Several of the torches had blown out and a mist of frankincense floated toward the ceiling. It was dark, weird, and alien.

Chloe felt her heart thumping in her throat.

She turned around, trying to read the rest of the sentence, something about “prayer … what? … in the twenty-third doorway at twenty-three of RaEmhetepet.” Chloe read it again quickly, committing the characters to memory—she'd have to figure it out later. Anubis grabbed her head and forced her to face Cheftu and now Sekhmet. Cheftu's stare was blank. The lioness goddess licked her lips, revealing a silver mouthpiece of extended incisors. Chloe backed up, but the solid body of Anubis held her still. Sekhmet held out her hand, and Chloe noticed it was beautiful, with long red painted nails, but when the woman turned it palm up to receive Chloe's hand, Chloe flinched. Sekhmet had the hieroglyphs of vengeance, fury, and justice painted on her wrist.

Cheftu leaned forward to whisper in her ear, “Give them your arm, RaEm. They are only making you an amulet. It will not hurt for long.” He sounded tired and a little irritated. Chloe stuck out her arm and felt Cheftu seize her wrist, a linen glove on his hand so he wouldn't get muddy or wouldn't have to touch her, Chloe didn't know which. Sekhmet lowered her head and bit Chloe's wrist, tearing the flesh horizontally. Chloe was instantly dizzy as she watched her blood well, then rush out, the pressure of Anubis’ hands on her shoulders and upper arms helping to quickly fill a shallow clay pot.

Cheftu wrapped her wrist with linen, and Chloe closed her eyes, trying to regain her equilibrium. It didn't hurt. Yet. The bizarre threesome led her to the altar, where Cheftu mixed her blood with mud from the pool. He sealed the mixture inside a scarab mold and laid it on the edge of the incense table. The “gods” had vanished. Chloe put a hand to her forehead. Still dizzy.

“My lady,” Cheftu said, indicating a partitioned area, “go wash and re-dress. We have one more ritual.” Chloe stumbled behind the partition and found her gown laid neatly across a basket. There was nothing on which to sit so she leaned against the wall for a moment. All the frankincense was giving her a headache. She didn't see any water but discovered as she toweled off that the greasy frankincense ointment made the mud come off easily.

She dressed in her robe and necklace again, missing underwear for the first time in several days. Actually, at this moment she missed everything about her world. Even
The Simpsons
.

The last part was easy. She drank some murky water while a priest dressed in red with mud stripes on his face tied the blood-mud scarab around her bandaged wrist. Then they left, stepping into the cool night. Chloe breathed deeply of the fresh air, scented with the smell of growing things, and accepted Cheftu's hand into the litter. Her wrist was beginning to throb, in time to the headache between her eyes. Why did they shave my head? Chloe thought morosely as she nodded off to sleep.

Hands helped her inside the house and up the stairs. Others laid her in the fresh sheets, rewrapped her bandage, and left her alone.

Chloe's first thought in the morning was that it would take forever to grow her hair out. Awakened and dressed before first light, she appreciated the slave rubbing a salve onto her arm and placing a cloth headdress on her head. With some makeup she would feel almost human again.

They left Noph, pulling away from the sleeping city as the golden-tinted fingers of Ra caressed Egypt with life and light.