The orb came back and hovered directly overhead. Arthur looked past it, waiting, holding on to life. Finally, a silver disk, thirty feet wide, flat on the bottom, the upper side sloping to a rounded top, floated silently out of the clouds.
The disk touched down on the Tor’s summit next to the abbey. A hatch on the top opened and two tall figures climbed out. They made their way down the sloping side. The shape inside their one-piece white suits indicated they were female, yet their eyes were not human, but the same red Brynn had revealed in Arthur’s.
They walked to where the king lay, one standing on either side. They pulled back their hoods, revealing fiery red hair cut tight against their skulls. Their skin was pale, ice-white, unblemished.
“Where is the key?” one asked in a low-pitched voice.
“A Watcher took it,” Arthur said. “I gave it to him. We must hide it to restore the truce.”
“Are you sure, Artad’s Shadow?” one of the women asked. “We can search for it. The Watchers cannot be trusted. Merlin was one of their order.”
“I am sure,” Arthur cut her off. “It is the way I want it to be. Merlin, no matter what evil he stirred up, was trying to do a good thing. Have you heard of the Grail’s fate?”
“Mordred’s mercenaries had it, but they didn’t know what it was. A Watcher in the area took it. We can take the Grail from him.”
“No.”
The two creatures exchanged glances.
“The truce must be restored,” Arthur continued. “It is not time yet.” Arthur slumped back, satisfied that at least that part of what Brynn had told him was true. He knew he could not tell them of the quest he had given Percival. It was the only thing he could think of to get his favorite knight off the Tor. If Percival had been here when the others arrived, he would have suffered the same fate as Mordred’s men. Arthur knew his knight would never track down the Grail, but it gave the man a purpose and he had found that such a quest worked well with men like that.
“And Aspasia’s Shadow?” Arthur asked.
“Mordred too dies in this life, but Guides are there to pass Aspasia’s spirit on.”
A spasm of pain passed through Arthur’s body. “Let’s be done with it then. I am very tired. Remember, I am only a shadow also.”
The two women looked at each other once more, red eyes meeting, then the first nodded and spoke. “The spirit of Artad must move on.”
“The spirit of Artad must pass on,” the second said.
Arthur nodded. “My spirit must pass on.”
The second woman knelt beside him, a short black blade in her hand. It easily sliced through the dented armor on Arthur’s chest with one smooth stroke, revealing a padded shirt underneath. With a deft flick of the knife, the cloth parted, revealing his chest. Lying on the flesh was a gold medallion shaped like two arms extended upward in worship with no body. She cut through the thin chain holding the medallion and held it up for the other woman — and Arthur — to see.
“We take your spirit, the spirit of Artad,” she said to Arthur.
The king nodded weakly. “The spirit of Artad passes.” His head bowed down on his chest, his lips moved, but no sound emerged.
“Are you ready to finish the shell that sustained this life?” she asked. Arthur closed his eyes. “I am ready.”
“Is there anything since the last time you merged with the ka that you need to tell us?”
Arthur shook his head, knowing that remaining silent when his spirit passed on would leave no memory of Percival’s quest, which would guard the knight for the rest of his life. It was his last thought.
The black blade slammed down into his exposed chest, piercing his heart. The body spasmed once, then was still. The woman stood and placed the blade back in its sheath.
The first woman extended a gloved hand, fist clenched, over the body. The fingers moved, as if crushing something held in it. She spread her fingers and small black droplets the size of grains of sand fell onto the king, hitting flesh, armor, and cloth. Where it fell on the latter two, they moved swiftly across the surface until they reached flesh. Where they touched skin, they consumed, boring through and devouring flesh, bone, muscle, everything organic. Within ten seconds nothing was left of the king but his armor and clothes.
With the ceremony complete, the two women swiftly retraced their steps to the craft they had arrived on. It lifted and swiftly accelerated away, disappearing into the storm clouds.
The heavens finally let loose with rain, announcing its arrival with a cacophonous barrage of thunder, lightning playing across the top of the Tor. A large bolt struck the high tower of the Abbey, shattering stone and mortar, spraying debris over the remains of the king.
CHAPTER 1
Deep under the Giza Plateau, Lisa Duncan placed her hands on the lid of the Ark of the Covenant. A surge ran through her body, a feeling of power. A red glow suffused both of the cherubim-sphinxes on either end of the Ark and extended over the lid, encompassing her.
She could no longer hear those outside the veil that surrounded the Ark. Her world was the Ark: the gold under her fingers. She grabbed the edge of the lid. She felt suspended in time, beyond the reach of everything she had ever known. She lifted the cover. A golden glow blazed out, overpowering the red as the lid went up. It locked in place, revealing the chamber inside.
Of the seven wonders of the ancient world, only one remains in the modern world. Located on the Giza Plateau, southwest of Cairo, stand the three large pyramids of the Pharaohs Khufu, Khafre, and Menkaure; they are symbolically guarded by the Great Sphinx, whose stone visage peers to the east, into the rising sun and over the Nile River, the lifeline of Egypt through time immemorial.
All four structures have been weathered and battered by time: the hand-smoothed limestone facing of the three great pyramids had long ago been looted for building materials, diminishing some of their majesty, but until the building of the Eiffel Tower, they had held reign for millennia as the tallest man-made objects on the planet.
As one comes upon them from the Nile Road, the middle pyramid of Khafre appears to be the largest, but only because it was built on higher ground on the Giza Plateau. The Pharaoh Khufu, more popularly known as Cheops, was historically credited with building the greatest pyramid, farthest to the northeast. Over four hundred and eighty feet tall and covering eighty acres, it is still the largest stone building in the world. The smallest of the three is that of Menkaure, measuring over two hundred feet in altitude.
The sides of all three are perfectly aligned with the four cardinal directions from northeast to southwest, largest to smallest. The Great Sphinx lies at the foot of the middle pyramid — far enough to the east to also be out in front of the Great Pyramid, behind the Sphinx’s left shoulder.
As long as men have stood on the plateau, dwarfed by the immense structures, they have been one of the greatest mysteries of the ages. Egyptologists had come up with dates and origins for the three pyramids and the Sphinx, but the data, upon close examination, was woefully incomplete. Not a single mummy was found in any of the pyramids, casting doubt on the age-old theory they were large mausoleums. Up until recently, every chamber discovered was empty. Even more puzzling was the distinct lack of any documentation concerning the architectural development of the pyramids or Sphinx. Not even among the numerous stone and papyrus documents from the various Egyptian dynasties.