Written in the Ashes (59 page)

Where fear and intensity had dwelt only moments before blossomed peace. Sofia smiled at Hannah weakly, the joy in her eyes turning to tears of relief and love as she kissed her baby and stroked his soft skin.

Hannah bent down and touched his tiny fingernails, remembering the deep love she had felt when she had seen Alaya for the first time. Thinking of her daughter, she looked out the window. Now that the baby was here, healthy and hungry, Hannah realized how tired she felt. Her stomach grumbled noisily. How long had it been since she had eaten anything? They could send for Synesius now, and he could bring Alaya. The thought was comforting. Then Hannah looked down between Sofia’s legs and saw the pool of blood on the sheet. She pulled the midwife aside and whispered.

The midwife shook her head, and pulled several herbs from her bag. Then she began to press on Sofia’s womb.

The blood kept coming.

Outside, darkness swept over the city as street lamps were snuffed out.

At that moment Gideon burst into the room with news of the meeting of the council on Antirrhodus, though it was still underway. Alizar had not been pardoned, Orestes had lost his debate with Cyril, and more Christians had been appointed seats in the council.

“It is a boy, Gideon,” whispered Sofia proudly. “Will you send for Sy?”

“My congratulations, Sofia,” he said, though his mind was still clearly elsewhere.

“I have decided to name him after my father, did I tell you?” Sofia said, her voice growing weaker. “We will call him Ali.” Sofia reached over and brushed the baby’s cheek lovingly with the back of her hand.

The midwife waved at Hannah and Gideon to take their conversation elsewhere as she worked. “The herbs will take effect. Do not disturb her now.”

Hannah took Gideon’s hand and led him back into the stacks of scrolls and shelves where Alizar kept his ancient books so they might speak privately. “We found falsified documents naming Tarek as Alizar’s heir. Did you find Tarek?”

He looked to the door. “No. But in the
agora
I encountered a boy called Ignus that Orestes sent to the Christian church years ago to spy for us. He says that he is certain Cyril has the Emerald Tablet. He overheard a discussion between the bishop and Peter about it, that it has been concealed beneath the altar stone.”

Hannah nodded. “This explains it. Tarek must have traded the tablet for the documents he wanted, substituting the doll you found in the chest.”

“There are many Christians in the Tabularium who would falsify documents for the bishop if asked.”

“Gideon, we must get it back. The Emerald Tablet is our only hope.”

Gideon smiled and kissed her. “We shall. I must go.”

Hannah flung her arms around his neck. “Go with God. I must stay here with Sofia and help the midwife.”

Hypatia flew down the dais to the back stairs of the hall behind her. At the bottom, she tried the door handles and flung her body against the latch only to find them bolted shut from the outside. She looked around herself, hearing the footsteps of the mob approaching.

A light at the end of a passageway off her left shoulder caught her attention. She ran toward it and found a small glass window set above the street. Being merely ornamental, it had no latch, no way of opening.

Hypatia turned around looking for something to smash it. Then her eyes fell on a small statue of John the Apostle that had been placed in a niche in the wall. She grabbed it and threw it through the window with a crash. Then she hoisted herself up onto the ledge with muscles in her arms unused to lifting her own weight as the swarm of bodies spilled around the corner of the passageway.

“Do not let her get away!”

“Seize the witch!”

Hands clawed at Hypatia’s feet and the leather ties on her sandals snapped. Someone else snagged a corner of her robes as she fell the short distance through the window into the street, tearing them to the waist.

Hypatia landed on her hands in the broken glass and rolled before coming to her feet. As swiftly as she could, she raced to her chariot and took the reins in her bloody fingers.

“Hyaaaa!” she screamed, smacking the reins on her horse’s neck. The mob streamed out of the lecture hall, followed by the Parabolani.

“She is headed to the library,” said one of the priests. “We will never get through the gates.”

“Then it is time to use this,” growled Peter, drawing a scroll from his robes like a sword.

It was a map of the catacombs.

Jemir was the first to become aware of the commotion. He was polishing the handle of a long spoon in the downstairs of the kitchen, humming a song to himself, so happy for the new baby, when a sudden uproar in the alleyway behind the stable caught his attention. He set down the rag and walked outside to the gate where a group of men were running past.

“What is happening?” Jemir called out.

A young teenage boy spun around and without breaking his stride yelled back, “The Great Library is on fire! Save yourselves!”

Jemir lifted his gaze to see the black smoke smudging out the stars; an instant later, the unmistakable scent reached his nostrils.

In a panic, he let out a stream of curses and ran as fast as he could into the house, flying to the tower as fast as his tubby legs could carry him. “Hannah! Come quickly!”

“What is it?” asked Hannah.

“Where is Gideon? Where is Alaya? And Synesius?” asked Jemir, his eyes filled with terror.

Hannah rushed to him. “Gideon has just left, and Alaya is in the library with Sy. Why Jemir? What has happened?”

But before he could respond, the criers on the street began to scream the news.

The library, the Great Library is on fire.

Hannah sprung for her cloak and ran down to the kitchen, heading toward the stable.

Jemir caught her arm. “Hannah. If this is true, the Parabolani will be everywhere.”

“I do not care! I must find my child.” Hannah whipped around and lunged for the door.

Jemir blocked it.

She faced him, her eyes two sharpened daggers.

“Let me go instead, Hannah,” said Jemir quickly. “If I do not return within the hour, then you do what you must.”

“No,” said Hannah, her voice shaking but firm. “Someone must stay here and help the midwife.”

The door flew open then as Tarek burst into the kitchen from the courtyard, hurdling Jemir forward.

Tarek began barking orders. “If the fires reach the tower, Jemir, set the horses loose in the street and you, Hannah and Sofia take the gate of the Moon to Lake Mareotis. No wait,” Tarek changed his mind abruptly. “Do not pass through the Christian quarter. Go down to the west beach instead. Do you understand?”

“Sofia’s baby has come, Tarek. She cannot be moved. There is too much blood.”

Tarek shook his head. “We must evacuate.”

Jemir nodded.

Hannah reached for the door.

“Stop, where are you going?” said Tarek.

“I must get my daughter,” said Hannah.

“Please,
Kukla,
let me go,” insisted Jemir.

But Hannah embraced him and kissed his cheek firmly. “Stay alive,” she whispered, and she flew down the steps to the stable.

37  

The little voice called like a songbird in his mind from the deepest reaches of Master Junkar’s meditation. His eyes flew open as his spirit rushed back into his body and the small room where Master Savitur was sitting cross-legged before him.

Instantly, he sprang to his feet.

Savitur narrowed his gaze as his thoughts streamed into Junkar’s mind.

Do not interfere. It is the way.

Junkar paused, his predicament apparent to him.

Savitur, I must go. Come with me.

Savitur shook his head.

Junkar protested.
She is our responsibility, Savitur. We cannot abandon her.
He could see the flames encircling the child he had met in the garden. His child. He had to hurry.

We cannot interfere.
Savitur folded his arms over his chest.
You know as well as I the consequences. It is our place to influence, not to interfere.

Junkar shook his head. He had denied himself the love of a woman. He had denied himself the love of his own child. Now his position denied him the right to go to that child in need of him when he was perfectly capable of helping her? He lashed out at Savitur angrily.
Have you any heart at all? You and I alone can protect the child of the Sacred Marriage. It is our duty to protect her. What are we masters of if we do not use the powers we are given in times of need?

Savitur pressed his lips together, the only sign that he was deep in thought. He wanted to help, but alas, the final decision was not his to make. Junkar found his tongue, leaving the thought realm they shared. “I must go.”

Savitur shut his eyes. He had prayed earnestly that the child would be born a boy. Things would have been entirely different then. The Great Book did not offer any words of instruction for a girl and he did not wish to challenge centuries of tradition. That was not his place. “Do only what you must,” he said.

Junkar stood. “Thank you.”

Savitur shook his head. “Your emotions have overtaken you. Julian lives within you still.”

Junkar dropped his eyes, confused. His practices had removed him from the ordinary world to such a degree that he lived most of the time in a state of consciousness full of light and emptiness. From that perspective, no tragedy existed and no loss could permeate his mind. In that world he was both wholly present and wholly detached, perceiving the physical world as a delightful illusion, charmed by both its trials and terrors. As Junkar, the entire world was a laughable extravagance, and so his heart remained always detached and illuminated in yogic peace.

But Savitur was right. Julian the man still lived inside him. It had been Julian who had fled the garden that night after seeing Hannah behind the window in the library. It had been Julian who had given Alaya the sandalwood beads and left with a heavy heart, unable to tell his daughter who he was.

So.