The Emerald Tablet (Fated Destruction Book 3)

by D. S. Murphy

  “I thought you hated water?” I asked.

  “The ocean and its depths. The creatures there are loyal to Poseidon. Here... the gods are wild, the animals have no loyalty. Plus, this water is not so deep.”

  Occasionally we passed settlements, with thatched huts made from red clay bricks, with long stretches of dark green water. Rugged red hills peaked above the splintered fronds of the palm trees. After awhile, I asked the driver to pull over so I could use the bathroom. I pushed through the foliage for some privacy, and had just finished peeing when movement in the bushes startled me. I stood up quickly, straightening my clothes just as a woman appeared in front of me. She was carrying a large clay urn on her head, probably full of water, and looked surprised to see me. She said something to me in Arabic. I reached into my pockets and pulled out some Egyptian bills, but she shook her head and waved her hand. It wasn’t money she wanted. She mimicked writing on her arm.

  “A pen? You want a pen? I’m sorry, I don’t have one,” I said. She smiled, then turned briskly and disappeared into the greenery. Back at the raft, Sitri and Jessie were awake. Jessie had bought a deck of cards at the market, and she was teaching Puriel how to play speed. Sitri was stretching on the shore, but curled back up into the pillows once we were on the river again.

  “Why would she want a pen?” I asked, after I told them about the girl.

  “Probably for school, or maybe for drawing,” Sitri said. “Girls aren’t encouraged to do either, so pens are rare in rural areas.”

  I hated thinking about someone not being able to do what they enjoyed, for something as simple as not having a pen. Back at JDRI, I’d always tuck them behind my ears or in my pockets and forget about them. At the end of the day, I was usually carrying three or four.

  The captain’s young son opened a thermos and prepared tea for us – strong black leaves with a lump of sugar at the bottom. We settled back into the rhythm of the boat, taking in the scenery, until Jessie interrupted the silence.

  “So, now that we’re all rested, are we going to talk about what happened back at the market? You know, the creepy bearded buy who was trying to kill you?”

  “He said he was a son of Cadmus,” I shrugged. “Apparently he was pissed at me for killing Athena.”

  “But you didn’t kill Athena,” Puriel said.

  “I might have helped a little,” I said, finishing my tea.

  “Who is Cadmus?” Jessie asked.

  “The bringer of literacy and civilization, according to legend,” Sitri said, sitting up with a yawn. “And the first Greek hero.”

  I looked at him expectantly, waiting for more information. He sighed and picked up the deck of playing cards, shuffling them together absently before he continued speaking.

  “Cadmus was a Phoenician prince, the grandson of Poseidon. When his sister Europa was abducted by Zeus, his father sent him out into the world to find her and bring her home. Unsuccessful, he consulted the Delphic oracle, which ordered him to give up his quest, follow a cow, and build a town in the spot where she lay down. He did so, and founded the city of Thebes.”

  “To purify the new city, his first task was to sacrifice the cow to Athena; so he sent scouts to find fresh water at a local spring. But everyone he sent failed to return, because the spring was guarded by a water dragon. Cadmus eventually went to the spring himself, and killed the dragon.”

  “He was instructed by Athena to sow the dragon’s teeth,” Puriel said, taking up the myth. “The dragon’s teeth grew into a fearsome race of warriors called the Spartoi, or ‘sown men’. Cadmus threw a jewel in their midst, causing them to fight each other to the death, until only the strongest were left. These five warriors became the keepers of Thebes.”

  “So wait, the guy in the market was some kind of descendant of these Spartoi?” Jessie asked. “Why was he in Egypt, and why go after Kai?”

  “The Spartoi were loyal to Athena,” Sitri said. “Seems like they’re angry about you killing her.”

  “Great,” I said. “So an ancient clan of snake-warriors is out to get me.”

  “What happened to Europa?” Jessie asked.

  “Zeus seduced her in the form of a handsome white bull, then carried her off from her family. Eventually she married a human king, becoming the first queen of Crete.”

  “So Zeus used her and discarded her,” Jessie said, crossing her arms. “Typical.”

  “Cadmus never found her?” I asked.

  “The Oracle of Delphi said not to worry about her, because she was safe.”

  “And what happened to Cadmus?”

  “He wasn’t so lucky. The water dragon he killed was sacred to Ares, so the god demanded eight years of service to repay the debt. But he was impressed with Cadmus, so after the debt was repaid, he let Cadmus marry his own daughter Harmonia, the offspring between him and Aphrodite.”

  “And I thought my family was screwed up,” Jessie mumbled.

  “Wait, Ares and Aphrodite were a thing?” I asked.

  “For a while, before Dionysus was on the scene. Actually Harmonia is Dionysus’s grandmother.”

  “Of course she is,” I said, my head spinning.

  “Cadmus had five children, a son and four daughters. Later, Zeus abducted his daughter Semele, and bore Dionysus. Hera plotted her destruction, but Zeus saved the child. Ino was driven mad by Hera and jumped into the sea with her son. Autonoe’s son was killed by hounds, and Agave unknowingly killed her own son, Pentheus, after being driven into a drunken frenzy by Dionysus.”

  “At least there’s a happy ending,” Jessie said, rolling her eyes.

  “I shouldn’t tell you this,” Sitri said, “but it was Heph’s doing. He was jealous about Athena and Ares. He couldn’t move against them directly, but he didn’t want their offspring to find happiness either. The wedding of Cadmus and Europa was the first human wedding attended by the gods. Heph didn’t attend, but he sent a wedding present: a charmed necklace that gave its wearer bad luck.”

  “Wow, bitter much?” Jessie said.

  “It was a long time ago,” Sitri said. “The gods were dealing with emotions they’d never felt before.”

  “That doesn’t excuse it,” Jessie said.

  “No, I guess not. But I guess as you get older, you regret some of the things you might have done when you were younger.” Sitri held my gaze, and I wondered how many terrible things he’d had to do, first as Zeus’s wild pack of wolves, then as Able’s guard dog.

  I wondered if Cadmus’s dragon was as big as the water snake that almost drowned me in Greece. Was that seriously only a week ago? I’d lost track of the days.

  “Wait, but if he’s Spartoi, why was he in Egypt?”

  “Cadmus was a descendant of Nilus, on his mother’s side; so he founded two Thebes, one in Greece, and later one in Egypt. It was used as the capital during the middle kingdom, and was called the city of the scepter.”

  “Nilus, like the river?” I asked.

  “The Nile was life, in the desert,” Sitri nodded. “During a drought or a rainy season, the Nile could wipe out whole cities, flood or famine. Her temperament had to be kept carefully balanced, with ceremonies and offerings.”

  I put my hand over the boat, feeling the cool water against my skin. It was hard to imagine the river as a goddess. Something moving under the surface of the water caught my eye. I thought it was just a leaf at first, but as I widened my focus, I could see a massive shape covered in scales. I snapped my hand back just as a large yellow eye blinked up at me. Sitri barely had time to fling me backward before enormous jaws bit off a huge chunk of the raft. We landed safely on the pillows, but the boat rocked so much Jessie and the guide’s son were thrown overboard.

  “Jessie!” I shouted, stretching my arm towards her.

  Sitri shifted, faster than I’d ever seen him. I blinked and he was double in size. A huge, black wolf, with blue eyes. He jumped in the water, paddling towards Jessie. She clutched his fur and dragged herself onto his back. He bounded tow
ards the riverbank and let her off.

  Puriel lifted me up and tossed me towards shore, just as the huge crocodile took another bite out of the ship, destroying the raft completely. Puriel jumped from the splintered chunks of wood to the alligator’s back, then plunged his sword through its head. It writhed and bucked, but he held on, kneeling and grasping the hilt so tightly it snapped off. Sitri swam back and bit his teeth through the animal’s mid section, shaking his head wildly, until the creature finally stopped thrashing and sank into the bloody water.

  When they came back, both were dripping wet. Sitri shifted back to his human form, his clothes torn to rags and hanging loosely around his exposed chest. Puriel’s thin shirt clung to his body, revealing every quivering muscle on his chiseled abs, and making the dark tattoos on his arms stand out clearly against his pale skin.

  “Damn,” Jessie said quietly behind me. “It was almost worth all that for this view.”

  14

  We had to walk three miles to find a village, and Sitri hired someone with a jeep to drive us the rest of the way to Alexandria. There was no room for the boat’s driver and his son, but they said they’d catch another ride. I felt bad about their boat, but I saw Sitri pass them a few gold coins.

  “Trust me, they’re getting the better deal,” he said.

  “How many of those do you have left?” I asked.

  “A few. They’re easier to spend than the diamonds I have hidden up my ass.”

  Jessie cracked up laughing and I saw Sitri smirk. I was pretty sure he was kidding. The unpaved road was bumpy for the first twenty minutes, but then we hit a highway. It only took an hour along the coast to reach Alexandria. We got dropped off downtown, along the wide, curving waterfront overlooking the bay.

  Sitri found a pawn shop and traded some more coins for a stack of cash. Our clothes were mostly dry already, and Sitri had picked up a new robe in the village, but we bought some new accessories so we didn’t look quite so frazzled. I picked out a black dress with long sleeves, embroidered with elegant designs at the hems. It was a little too fancy, but with a beige hijab that wrapped around my neck and hair, I stood out much less. Plus, it covered most of my hand, which meant I could wear my black glove all the time. We’d already had too many close calls to risk another accident.

  “So, where do we start?” Jessie asked. I looked around at the modern buildings and shops, and the waterfront teaming with tourists.

  “We’re about midway up the corniche, or sea promenade. That’s the El Gondy El Maghool Square,” Sitri said, pointing at a curved monument with pillars and steps. “This is the Eastern harbor. Out there to the left was once Pharos Island. Alexander built a land bridge, almost a mile long, to connect it to the mainland and create a manmade harbor.”

  “Wait,” Jessie said, “You mean Alexander the Great, right?”

  “The city is named after him,” Sitri nodded, “though it’s much older. He conquered Egypt in 332 BC. After he died, one of his generals, Ptolemy I Soter, stole his remains as they were heading back to his birthplace in Macedonia, in order to maintain political power here by declaring himself pharaoh. He set up the Ptolemaic dynasty, a Hellenistic kingdom that ruled Egypt for nearly three hundred years, and which ended with the death of Cleopatra in 30 BC.”

  “That fortress at the end is the Citadel of Qaitbay,” Sitri said, pointing to a large castle on the edge of a peninsula. “It’s where the lighthouse of Alexandria used to be. Originally, it was the third tallest building in the world, after the two largest pyramids, and could be seen thirty miles out to sea and shone like a star, with mysterious power. It collapsed in a series of earthquakes starting in 956. Sultan Qaitbay used the stones to build the castle you see now in 1480, to defend the city against the Turkish. Now it’s a museum, and behind it is the aquarium.”

  “Over there to the right,” Sitri pointed, “used to be the royal quarter, where the palaces of the pharaoh and the Great Library were located. Most of it is underwater now; they built a new library where the old one used to be.” The sleek, round building stood out against the weathered yellow limestones.

  I looked across the bay to the imposing castle-like fort, then in the other direction towards the library. Between them, along the promenade, white beach umbrellas framed the blue and yellow boats rocking in the harbor. A cool sea breeze ruffled a flock of brightly colored balloons and racks of cotton candy from walking merchants.

  “It’s all so modern,” I said, frowning. “Isn’t there anything older?”

  “Sure,” Sitri said. “This way.”

  We cut away from the coast and headed deeper into the city, where the roads were tight and crowded. Engine exhaust mixed with spices, as restaurants cooked meat on small outdoor grills. I wrapped my scarf tighter around my face to block the smell.

  Bright layers of paint peeled away from the weathered buildings. Everything looked dirty and broken. Ten minutes later, we found a wide park filled with Roman ruins and surrounded by leafy trees.

  “Much better,” I said, taking a deep breath of fresh air. We looked through the ancient complex, but aside from a handful of tourists, there wasn’t much to see. The remains of a Roman amphitheater, bathhouses and a villa with frescoes. I studied the broken pillars, carved arches and eroded faces of large statues, but I didn’t notice anything that stood out or reminded me of Isis.

  “Somehow I thought this would be easier,” I mumbled.

  “It’s a beautiful day, and nobody has tried to kill us for at least an hour,” Jessie said, taking pictures with a disposable camera she’d picked up in Cairo. “How much easier do you want?”

  I stuck out my tongue out childishly and she laughed. I knew she was just trying to cheer me up, but I wasn’t here to play tourist.

  “What’s that?” Puriel said, pointing to a standing pillar in the distance.

  “Pompey’s Pillar,” Sitri said. “It’s all that’s left of the Serapeum, which was once the largest pagan temple outside of Rome.”

  “Should we check it out?” I asked.

  “Sure, as long as we get a snack first,” Jessie said.

  We stopped at a small diner and Sitri ordered something that looked like folded pizza, topped with meat, bell peppers, garlic and cumin.

  “Not bad,” I said, biting into the pastry.

  “Offal sandwiches are a specialty of Alexandria,” Sitri said.

  “What’s offal?” Jessie asked.

  “Variety meats,” Sitri said, stuffing the last of the crust in his mouth. “Mostly liver, but it could also mean cow or sheep brains.”

  “Ew,” Jessie said, putting down her plate. Puriel helped her finish it, then grinned as he licked his fingers. The restaurant was filled with small framed prints, similar to the stuff we’d seen all over Egypt. Acrylic paint on flattened papyrus. One featured a stylized eye in blue and gold paint.

  “What’s that?” I asked, pointing at the symbol.

  “The wadjet,” Sitri said, finishing his Coke. “A protection symbol. It represents the Eye of Horus.”

  “Isn’t he the son of Isis?” I asked.

  “Kind of,” Sitri said. “Isis had two brothers, Osiris and Set. Isis helped Osiris rule Egypt, teaching mankind about wheat and barley; and how to make bread and beer and wine. But Set was jealous, so he tricked Osiris into a box, ripped him into fourteen pieces, and scattered him down the Nile. Isis brought him back, at least his vital essence, and created Horus.”

  Isis resurrected her dead lover. Somehow I missed that detail. Wasn’t that exactly what I’d done to Sitri, or what I was trying to do? I filed it away as Sitri continued.

  “Horus grew up, and declared war on Set for his father’s murder. During one battle, Set gouged out Horus’s left eye and tore it into six pieces. However, Thoth and several minor deities managed to restore the eye and return it to Horus. By some accounts, Horus will end up sacrificing the eye Thoth healed to resurrect Osiris. Others say, whoever looks into the blue Eye of Horus will see the future. It’s
a symbol of courage, strength and sacrifice. It’s also the basis of the modern Rx symbol you see on modern pharmacies.”

  I looked again at the pictures on the walls, searching for more clues. The art may be meant for tourists, but the stories were ancient. Maybe some of them started from a kernel of truth. As Sitri went to get the bill, a young girl approached the table, her dark hair covered in a white cloth. She couldn’t have been more than ten years old, but she was holding a dark-skinned baby in one arm and a bundle of red roses in the other.

  She placed the roses on the table, then stared silently at me with her large, dark eyes. When I tried to ignore her, she thrust the baby up closer. He was cute. I resisted the urge to pinch his fat cheeks.

  “Please, Mister,” she said to Puriel. “You buy. Flowers for pretty ladies.” She picked up the roses and leaned across the table towards him. I’d taken my gloves off to eat, and the girl’s arm brushed against my bare hand.

  I jerked backwards, knocking over a glass of water, then stood up quickly, backing away from the table. Jessie grabbed a stack of napkins to soak up the spill, but I couldn’t take my eyes away from the water. It pooled on the edge of the table and started dripping on the floor. Sitri was at my side a moment later, eyeing the girl suspiciously.

  “What happened,” Sitri asked. “What did she do to you?”

  I shook my head, trying to clear the vision, but I knew what I’d seen.

  “She’s going to drown,” I said quietly. “Soon.”

  ***

  I made Sitri give the girl some money, even though he said keeping the flowers would draw too much attention. The vision had been strong, which meant she only had a few days left to live. I wanted to follow her home, to warn her family, but I settled by making Sitri translate a message: no matter what happens, stay out of the sea. Even after she was gone, I was haunted by the girl’s lifeless face, obscured by the dark blue waters, eyes gazing blankly forward as her dark hair and white dress drifted around her.