And recall, as Lady Lot said of the tests you will face along the way, you must win them all, just as you won the one with me.”
“Yes, Lord Abulhol, well do we understand,” said Roel.
“Then I will lead you to the gateway to the land of the dead, but heed me, take nothing you see in the tomb of Meketaten; else I will hunt you down and slay you outright.”
“You have my pledge as a knight,” said Roel.
“And mine as the Princess of the Springwood,” said Celeste.
The great Sphinx nodded his acceptance, and said,
“Then follow me,” and he stood, and sand cascaded from his flanks and came roaring down in a great pour.
The horses snorted and reared, and it was all Celeste and Roel could do to maintain control.
Now looming above them, the massive creature strode forward, its ponderous steps thudding, seeming to judder the very world with each thundering footfall.
“His tail!” cried Celeste, and she sprang into her saddle as Roel leapt into his, and they turned the horses and galloped out from under the belly of the monstrous Sphinx just as his massive stone tail dragged through the place where they had been. And the Abulhol laughed, his gaiety sounding as would an avalanche of tumbling boulders.
Toward the city he walked, and each step shivered the ground, and the sloping sand against the ramparts shuddered and ran down. Celeste and Roel trailed at a safe distance, and as the Sphinx came to the wall, he lifted his tail and delicately stepped within the bounds of the shrine.
And now like a great cat he padded, gently easing his feet down. Toward an enormous cube of stone in the city center he softly stepped, carefully passing by steles and pylons and buildings and columnar rows and ruins, and when he reached the huge block he stopped and looked ’round at Celeste and Roel following.
“I think you will need to dismount and lead your horses,” said the Sphinx, “for the entrance is quite low.
And light a lantern; you will need it to find the way.” And so the princess and her knight dismounted, and 282 / DENNIS L. MCKIERNAN
Celeste took his reins while Roel fetched a lantern from the packs and set it aglow.
When all was ready, “Keep in mind your pledge concerning Meketaten’s tomb,” rumbled the Abulhol.
“We will, my lord,” said Celeste.
“And remember, you must pass all tests; else you will not find the arrow of gray.”
“We understand, Lord Sphinx,” said Roel, “and we stand prepared.”
The Abulhol sounded a chuckle like sliding rocks and said, “I doubt that.” And then the creature turned to the great slab and whispered an ancient word, and a dark opening appeared; then the Sphinx stepped aside. “Fare well, and I pray the light of Re shines down upon you both.”
Celeste curtseyed and Roel bowed, and Celeste said,
“And may Mithras find favor in you, Lord Abulhol.” The Sphinx roared in laughter and said, “Do you not know, Princess, that Mithras and Re are one and the same? Now go; you are keeping me from my sleep.”
“As you wish, my lord,” said Celeste, and then she turned and followed Roel into the shadows beyond.
35
Thoth
Into the mausoleum they went, and when the last horse clattered onto the marble floor, from behind there came a thunderclap that reverberated throughout the looming shadows. Celeste turned ’round, and by the light of the lantern Roel carried, she could no longer see the opening they had entered; only solid stone met her gaze. .
. . There was no way back out.
Tall columns loomed up into darkness above, and from left and right aureate glints came winging to the eye from gilded chests and rich fabrics and golden goblets and other such treasures. Sparks of sapphire and scarlet and emerald and sunshine glittered forth from gems and jewels and jades. Silver chalices there were, filled with crystals of quartz and amethyst and chrysoberyl.
“Oh, my, what wealth,” breathed Celeste.
“But look beyond, my love,” said Roel.
And deeper in the shadows there stood linen-wrapped forms, shields on their arms, spears in their hands.
“Guardians?” asked Celeste.
“Oui.”
“Did they murder men simply to have an honor guard for Meketaten?”
“It would seem so,” said Roel.
“Oh, how utterly cruel.”
“Mayhap not cruel, cherie. Instead I deem it a useless waste. Still, I think they might have gone willingly, for I ween they believed it assured them a place of honor in the afterlife.”
Celeste growled, but said nought.
Roel held his lantern on high, and it shone upon a sarcophagus, and on the lid a carved black jackal with golden eyes and golden ears and a golden collar reclined on its stomach, its head held up, as if alert, as if it, too, was a guardian.
“It is my sarcophage, ” said Celeste, “or so it was in my dream.”
“I remember,” said Roel.
“Oh, Roel, look.”
Standing in ranks beyond the sarcophagus were the mummified remains of perhaps a hundred people.
“The servants,” gritted Roel. “How sad their lives were taken for this.”
Celeste looked away. “Perhaps they, too, are assured of a place in the afterlife.”
“Afterlife or no, Celeste, still it was needless sacrifice.” They paced onward, their boots ringing on marble, the horses’ hooves clattering with echoes resounding all
’round. “What I am wondering,” said Roel, “is how do we get to the underworld?”
“Surely the Sphinx did not betray us and sentence us to a lingering death.”
Roel did not reply, and on they trod.
“Look, cherie, ahead, a dark wall of some sort.” Up three steps and on a broad dais stood two marble statues: one carved to look like a man with the head of a falcon, the other a man with a jackal’s head. An ebon darkness shimmered between.
“Mayhap it is a crossing,” said Celeste.
“You mean like a twilight wall?”
“Oui.”
Roel sighed and said, “Then I think we need go di shy;
rectly through, for it seems there is no other way out.”
“You propose we use no rope?”
“Oui.”
Celeste grinned. “Then let us have at it.” Up the steps they trod, the horses clattering after, but the moment their feet touched the dais, a man with the head of an ibis emerged from the black wall, and he held his hand out as if to halt them.
Roel paused, his grip on the hilt of Coeur d’Acier.
But then he released his hold and bowed and said, “My lord.”
Celeste curtseyed.
“I am Thoth, Lord of Wisdom, and I am here to test your worthiness to enter the realm of Lord Osiris.
Hence-” Of a sudden he started in surprise. “By the thrice-named gods, you are of the living! You cannot enter Duat.”
“We do not wish to enter Duat, My Lord Thoth,” said Roel, “but the domain of Lord Hades instead.”
“Hades?”
“Oui.”
“Who sent you this way to reach that netherworld?”
“Lord Abulhol, My Lord Thoth.”
“Ever the meddler,” growled Thoth. The guardian god of the way to Duat sighed and said, “Even so, he must have had a good reason. What is it you hope to find there?”
“We seek the Hall of Heroes in the Elysian Fields, for within that hall is a black portal leading to the City of the Dead, and within that city is a gray arrow, and that is what we seek.”
“And what do you hope to do with that arrow?”
“My lord, we do not know. Yet without it our quest will fail, or so said Lady Doom.”
“Urd?”
“Oui.”
“Then you must use this gate. Nevertheless, I cannot let you pass unless I find you worthy. And to do so and since you are yet living, I will examine but two of the seven parts of your souls: your Akhu-that part of your spirit containing your intellect and will and intentions. I will also examine your Ab-your heart-which holds the source of good and evil within a person, for moral awareness resides therein as well as the center of thought.”