She yanked me to my feet. Yet before we reached the door, it passed.
“Only an after-crack,” said Grand Djedti. “Everyone keep calm.”
But a guard pounded upon the door then withdrew the heavy bolt.
“A ferocious wave of water just hit Thebes. You must come. Surely, Hapi, the Nile Deity, is angry and wishes to slay us all.”
We again poured out to the balcony where hordes of palace attendants crowded the windows and doors to watch an aqueous wall pour over the West bank of canals and engulf our estate. Water flooded in. The darkened sky filled with misery as this new havoc beseeched us.
The wall of water swept away mudbrick houses, ripped donkeys from their evening meals of alfalfa and toppled great stone slabs like toys. The angry tide upturned everything in its path with a deafening roar. The Sesh lucky enough to have foreseen this terror climbed to the top of palm trees now shaking with violent force. Some fell to their watery deaths.
The wave struck the barrier walls around the palace and protected us. Verily nothing was left of the surrounding workers’ village. Bloody screams soured the thick air with an echoing terror. I covered my mouth. The enormity of this disaster transfixed me. I had no idea nature could be so pitiless. No words. Only thoughts. Terrible, terrible thoughts.
“C
over your nose and mouth, like this.” Meti pulled the linen scarf to demonstrate. “The ash is dangerous to breathe.”
The sun dressed itself in a gauzy film that settled upon our city in discouraging heaps. The once thriving port city of Thebes appeared decimated along the shores of the Nile, leaving only soggy mudflats and palm tree stumps.
“Why do we have to go to Thebes? I want to stay home with Meket and Ankhi and paint.”
Meti wiped the ash off the table in the deckhouse on our Royal barge.
“Duty first, Daughter. The Sesh need reassurance; we must be their guiding light.”
Netri swept up the broken vase. “With their confidence restored, the Sesh may sew back the tattered remains of their lives. We, the silver needles, must guide the thread of hope, one stitch at a time.”
I clung to Netri’s leg. “I do not like boats. What if crocodiles eat us?”
Being near the Nile made me sad for Hep-Mut. Besides, the earthcrack made me feel seasick all the time.
He grimaced. “Beloved, there are far more fearful things than crocodiles. The devastation is worse than I could imagine. The Sesh have lost their lives in this disaster.”
Nodding, Pentu looked up from reading a yellowed copy of the Khemitian
Book Of The Dead
. “May salvation spare the villagers, and the landowners, possessionless and powerless to recover that which was pulled asunder. I lost my most gifted apprentice, who I sent to attend the Royal Scribe’s consort.”
“My childhood friend and her two boys went to the market the day the wave hit,” said Meti. “I have not seen them since. And my Bath Attendant left to tend to her sick Meti that morning. May their life in the Duat be blessed forever and ever.”
“Forever and ever,” we replied.
I wondered why the Water Deity could be so heartless as to take Meti’s friends and Hep-Mut.
“Meti, what made Hapi so angry?”
“We cannot judge the ways of nature. Perhaps something new will rise from the ashes.”
Netri lifted my chin. Our eyes met. “Merit-Aten, today should not be a sight for eyes as young as yours. If I could shelter you from the horrors ahead, I would.”
“What horrors?”
“The earthcrack and the tidal wave frightened us, but now we must prepare ourselves for the horrors of our citizens who have wested. Many Sesh were called before their time.”
I nodded, but wondered about the horrors.
Pentu looked up from his scroll. “She could stay below deck.”
“Your Highness, the ash is making it difficult for the oarsmen to breathe,” said the Helmsman.
“Let us go offer relief,” said Father to Pentu as the physician hopped up to join him. His sacred scroll fell to the deck and unfurled.
“Pentu,” I cried out, but he had gone.
I picked up that scroll. I could feel the magic in it. I yearned to peek at
The Prayers Of The Dead
, even though it was expressly forbidden for anyone except students of the Mystery School. One little look wouldn’t hurt.
I needed to learn some magic right now to restore peace to this land. Turning my back from prying eyes, I unrolled the scroll a bit and savored the flow of the ancient text. I loved the rhythm and antiquity of this mysterious knowledge. The soft bumps into the side of our barge distracted me. Broken temple pillars or more of the mudbrick siding of a village hut had most likely clogged the dreary waters. I thought about peering over the railing of the barge but then the worry of crocodiles made me panic. I shivered. What if the horrors Father mentioned were out there? What could be worse than crocodiles?
I snuck outside the deckhouse to find out. Bloated bodies floated buoyantly up the Nile. The ash fell heavy upon them, making them look other-earthly. Their outstretched hands spoke of mute desperation, torn away from whatever they had last clung to before their lives were ripped away. They floated by the hundreds upon the dismal waters. I covered my eyes but peeked through my fingers at the swollen oxen, donkeys, dogs and cats pulled asunder. I wanted to help.
How could the Hanuti be so cruel as to move the Ben Ben stone?
If there had been no earthcrack or horrible wave, all these Sesh and their animals would still be alive. Now it would take magic to bring the Amunites and Atenists together in harmony.
I heard a voice within,
The Prayer.
What prayer? I thought, still mesmerized by the gentle rise and fall of the waves, lifting the bodies of those who bore witness to nature’s mysteries. I couldn’t blink. I couldn’t move.
Then I remembered the scroll.
The Prayers Of The Dead.
Every one of those horrific bodies who had wested without a proper burial must be freed. How else could the
ka,
or spirit find the door to the threshold of Amentii, the heavenly realms? They needed to receive the proper ritual to guide them. I could send them across the first threshold.
A naked man bobbed upon the water. His dark beard grayed, not by age but soot. His testicles, now swollen as melons, made him look monstrous. I retched over the side of the boat.
Steadying myself, I found a recitation named
The Calling Forth Of The Wested.
My voice grew strong as I read the words.
“Ashu-a-ma Aku-ti, Ee-akuta anay atu. Aten-hua-reckha-aduathihor- amay. Shep ti hor-ba Athu-i-na.”
May your soul essence rise up and empower thee. For those who have been robbed of their soul nature, may the power of the Aten bring the transformative light of redemption. May these incarnates resume their light in the seven light bodies of their celestial nature.
Lo and behold, his spirit separated from his body like a sheet had been lifted. The filmy outline of a man looked down upon his corpse. The ghost simply said goodbye to the form that housed his spirit then rose, lingering a bit to enjoy this new freedom. He nodded at me and smiled.
Such woe to be bound within this garment of flesh. No more would this villager want for anything. And before my astonished eyes, a door appeared. Glowing golden light poured forth. The spirit looked back one last time, as if to give thanks for the simple joys of his experience on this earth before stepping through the door without a trace.
My prayer had worked. I gazed upon the broken bodies and I pondered if I could do more.
Another body drifted by of a young girl not much older than Ankhi with half of her skin ripped away. An elder woman whose long braided hair spread like tentacles around her had a deep gash in her stomach. A baby bobbed face down. An Amun priest bedecked in jewels lost an arm and leg. Hundreds of decaying bodies needed to be freed.
I repeated
The Calling Forth of the Wested
. The souls of all these people broke free of their damaged bodies and floated up like shining outlines of their former selves. Thrilled to create so much magic, I summoned forth the golden door so they could take their place within the celestial realm. Then out of nowhere, a black shadow exploded out of the mouth of the Nile. It had reptilian features and looked like it had emerged from the netherworld. This frightening demon blocked the baby spirit’s path. An earth-shattering screech made me cover my ears as the eerie apparition isolated the infant from the others. The demon darted this way and that, and its constant fidgeting motion increased my anxiety.
This dark snake with red tipped scales had the large flapping wings of a bat. With careful calculation, it opened its dreadful mouth and clamped down upon the soul. The child contorted and twisted in agony as the demon consumed the life-force with sickening sucking noises. The winged beast drained the energy and left only a lifeless form that fell into the dark depths of the Nile. As the scales fell off, more snakes appeared, and they too slithered through the gauzy air, winding to and fro abducting more of the freed spirits. I tried to find another prayer but the scroll slipped from my nervous hands and unfurled across the deck.
I shrieked. “Netri. Pentu. Help!”
Pentu brandished his staff and waved with frantic arms. “The Apepians!” His calm manner cracked. I stared in disbelief that our usually peaceful Physician was so excitable.
“How did they get free?” demanded Netri. Everyone turned to me.
“Merit-Aten, did you have anything to do with this?”
“I did
The Calling Forth of the Wested.
”
“You asked for that without protection from the Apepi?” he asked.
“Hurry Pentu, we have to stop them. Merit-Aten, hide. It will try to destroy the one who summoned it.”
My father and Pentu lifted up their wooden staffs and recited the sacred chants. They called forth the protective rays of the Aten to shield the souls from dissolution. They called forth a downpouring of Atenic Light to absolve and protect the spirits until they penetrated through the first door.