by Kai Meyer
Her fur had vanished. Without replacement.
“Allow me?” Naked, she bent over, fished up the curtain at Serafin’s feet, and with a lightning twirl, covered her nakedness. The yellow settled around her figure like a dress; no one would have guessed that the stuff had just been hanging from the ceiling as a curtain; on her it looked as natural and perfectly fitting as the most expensive fabric from Umberto’s workshop.
Serafin had tried to turn his eyes away, but she left him no time for that. Instead, the image of her completed body kept shining before his eyes as if it had burned into his retina. Like light spots after one has looked at the sun for too long.
“Serafin?”
“Uhh … yes?”
“Is this better?”
He looked down her, down to her narrow feet, which stood half covered in soft sand. “It doesn’t change anything,” he said, having to force out every word. “You’re a sphinx, no matter what shape you assume.”
“Of course. But now you don’t need to be afraid of my claws anymore.” Pure roguishness gleamed in her eyes.
He made a great effort to ignore her scornful undertone. “What are you doing here?”
“I lead the counterattack.”
“Against the Pharaoh?” He laughed and hoped that it sounded as humorless as it was meant to. “With a few children?”
She rubbed her right foot over her left; he almost believed she felt the embarrassment she intended to convey. Only almost. “Are you a child, Serafin?” The way she raised her eyes was a bit too coquettish to be accidental.
“You know exactly what I mean.”
“And you know, I think, what I mean.” All at once her tone became sharper, the emphasis harder. “Dario and the others might be just fifteen, sixteen, or seventeen years old”—with which she indirectly confirmed what he already suspected: that there were no grown-ups among the rebels—“but they are skillful and quick. And the Pharaoh will underestimate them. That is perhaps our strongest weapon: Amenophis’s vanity.”
“You said that you don’t know him.”
“Not in his current form. But I know how he was earlier, in his first life.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Far more than three thousand years.”
“You are three thousand years old?”
She laughed again, but only briefly. “A few thousand more or less.”
Serafin pressed his lips together and said nothing more.
Lalapeya continued: “Amenophis’s vanity and arrogance are the reason I’ve only chosen boys like you. Do you think I’d have found no men larger and stronger than anyone here in this house? But it would have been pointless. The Egyptians will put every grown man under arrest today and deport them afterward. A handful of children, on the other hand … Now, I think the Pharaoh will first grapple with the more important things. What color to make his suite here in Venice, for example. At least that is what the earlier Amenophis would have done.”
“You really intend to fight the Egyptians with Dario and the others?” She might be right in what she said, but nonetheless he believed she was making it too simple.
“I am no warrior.”
Yes, he thought, that’s obvious, or is it? Then he remembered her razor-sharp lion’s claws and shuddered.
“But,” she went on, “we have no choice. We must fight, for that is the only language Amenophis understands.”
“If only a fraction of what they say about the Empire is true, the Pharaoh can snuff out Venice in a few minutes. What are a few rebels supposed to do to him?”
“You shouldn’t believe everything you hear about the power of the Egyptians. Some of it is true—but some also depends on skillfully spread rumors and on the power of illusion. The priests of Horus are masters of deception.”
“It’s hopeless in spite of all that. I’ve seen the mummy soldiers. I’ve seen how they fight.”
The sphinx nodded. “And how they die.”
“Through luck, nothing else.”
Lalapeya expelled a great sigh. “No one here is thinking of going against the mummy soldiers in the field. At least not the way you imagine it.”
“What, then?”
“First I must know if you’ll help us.” She took a step toward him, on the soft feet of a dancer. It was impossible to resist her charm.
“Why me?”
“Why you?” She smiled again, and her voice sounded a little gentler. “I think you underestimate what a reputation you have. A master of the Thieves’ Guild at thirteen, the youngest Venice has ever seen. No one can climb up a housefront faster or more skillfully. No one can slip past any guard more quickly. And no one is braver when it comes to carrying out a task at which all before him have failed.”
Lalapeya’s words made him uncomfortable. She didn’t need to flatter him, and that meant that she was appealing to his honor. Her words also came very close to the truth. And yet all that lay an eternity ago, in another life.
“I was thirteen then,” he said. “And today—” He paused. “And today,” he went on, “I’m no longer what you said. I left the Guild. I no longer steal. I’m an apprentice to the master weaver Umberto, that’s all.”
“Nevertheless, you stole the Flowing Queen from the Egyptians.”
He stared at her, wide-eyed. “You know about that?”
“Of course.” But she didn’t provide an explanation, and that made him suspicious again. When she noticed, she quickly added, “You and the girl, Merle.”
“What do you know about Merle?”
Lalapeya hesitated. “She has left Venice.”
“On a stone lion, yes, I know,” he said impatiently. “But where is she now? Is she all right?”
“Nothing has happened to her,” said the sphinx. “More than that I don’t know.”
He had the strong feeling that she was lying, and he made every effort to let her feel it. At the same time, he could see that her decision was firm and she wouldn’t tell him more. Not at the moment. If he were to remain for a while, however, he might succeed in getting more out of her, about Merle and the Queen and—
He winced when he realized that he’d fallen into her trap. He’d swallowed the bait.
“I’ll help you,” he said, “if you tell me more about Merle.”
Lalapeya seemed to weigh the offer. “I’d prefer that you did it because you agreed to the necessity.”
He shook his head. “Only for Merle.”
The sphinx’s eyes, her brown, profound eyes, moved over his face, checking to see if he spoke the truth. He was nervous, although he knew that she’d find nothing different; he meant every word just as he’d spoken it. For Merle he’d even go to Egypt, if he had to, and thumb his nose at the Pharaoh. And perhaps break his skull on the best mummy soldier of all. But after all, it was the attempt that counted. Somehow.
“Are you in love with Merle?” asked Lalapeya after a while.
“That’s none of your business.” The words were already out before he realized what he was saying. “And anyway it has nothing to do with this,” he added hastily.
“You needn’t be ashamed of it.”
He was about to reply but then swallowed the answer and asked instead, “Do you know Merle?”
“Perhaps.”
“Oh, come on—what kind of an answer is that?”
“The truth. I’m not sure if I know her.” Her eyes showed a flash of shock when she realized that possibly she’d betrayed too much. With noticeable control, she said, “I’m not accustomed to being interrogated.” But her smile showed that she wasn’t angry with him.
Serafin freed himself from her look and walked a few steps back and forth, as if he were weighing whether he really wanted to remain here any longer. His decision had already been made long before. Where could he have gone? Umberto’s weaving workshop stood empty, the master had fled God knew where. Serafin had long ago turned his back on his former friends from the Thieves’ Guild. And back to Arcimboldo, Eft, and Junip
a? Something told him that maybe this would be the right way. But could he somehow protect Junipa from Lord Light better if he joined the sphinx and her odd crew?
Finally he came to a stop. “You must tell me what you have in mind.”
“We will not make war on the Egyptians. That would in fact be presumptuous and suicidal. The war will be directed against Amenophis himself.”
“Against the Pharaoh?”
When she nodded, the strange desert light flickered over her black hair like tiny flames.
“You want to kill him?” asked Serafin, aghast. “An assassination?”
“That would be one way. But it wouldn’t be enough. Amenophis isn’t an independent ruler. Also, he’s ruled by those who have called him back to life. At the moment, anyway.”
“By the priests?”
“By the priests of Horus, yes. For centuries they had lost their meaning, had shrunk to a secret cult long forgotten by almost everyone. Until they awakened the Pharaoh in the pyramid of Amun-Ka-Re to new life. With that they gave new strength to a weak, vegetating country. A new leader. A new identity. That and their magic were the two means with which they created the Empire. They’re the ones who pull the strings, not Amenophis.”
“But that makes everything even more hopeless.”
“Where the Pharaoh is, there also are the heads of the priesthood, above all Seth, his vizier and grand master of the Horus cult.”
“In all seriousness, you intend for us to go to Heliopolis, into the city of the Pharaoh, and there … eliminate … not only him but also his vizier and perhaps a whole legion of his priests?” He emphasized the word eliminate as if it were the idea of a small child, for that was how sensible he thought this whole crazy idea was.
“Not to Heliopolis,” said the sphinx very quietly. “Amenophis and Seth will soon be here. Here in Venice. And if I’m not deceived in everything, they will establish their quarters in the Doge’s Palace.”
Serafin gasped. “The Pharaoh is coming here?”
“Certainly. He won’t miss the moment of his greatest triumph. This is not only a victory over a single city—it is a victory over the Flowing Queen and all she stood for. His triumph over the past and also over his own death. Aside from the Czarist kingdom, there’s no one else in the world who can withstand him.”
Serafin rubbed a hand over his forehead and desperately tried to keep pace with the sphinx’s explanations. “Even if it were true that the Pharaoh is coming to Venice … to the Doge’s Palace, for all I care … what would that change? He’ll be hidden behind an army of bodyguards. Behind his mummy soldiers. And, don’t forget, behind the magic of Seth and the other priests.”
Lalapeya nodded slowly, and her smile was as loving as if she were speaking with a young kitten. “That’s why I want you to help us.”
“I should break into the Doge’s Palace?” Serafin rolled his eyes. “While the Pharaoh is there?”
The sphinx didn’t have to answer him. He already knew that was exactly what her plan was. But she said something else that touched him more deeply than any slogan or any promise: “For Merle.”
5 IN THE EAR OF THE HERALD
THERE WAS NO DAY IN HELL. AND NO NIGHT.
After the long descent, Vermithrax had set down on a rock shaped like a hatbox; a human could have climbed down the steep walls only with appropriate equipment. Of course they all—the obsidian lion as well as Merle and the Flowing Queen—knew that basically it made no difference where they camped if they had to deal with opponents like the Lilim.
“Maybe down here there aren’t creatures like those up there,” said Merle, without great conviction.
“Possibly a few of the most dangerous ones live up there, as guards of the entrance, so to speak.” The Queen’s voice was firm, her enthusiasm undampened. Nevertheless, Merle had the feeling that she was only trying to bolster her courage and didn’t completely believe what she said herself.
At least they agreed that there must be a great number of different kinds of Lilim. The messenger Lord Light had sent to the Venetians had had nothing in common with the creatures in the rock wall.
“Which doesn’t mean, however, that the others are less terrible or fast.” The obsidian lion licked his wings with his stone tongue. “On the contrary, perhaps we’ve only met the most harmless so far.”
“Thanks a lot, Vermithrax,” said Merle bitterly, and she had the feeling that the Queen was thinking exactly the same thing. “A joker like you is enormously helpful at the moment.”
The lion didn’t even look up. “I’m only saying what I think.”
Until then Merle had been sitting cross-legged on the rock beside Vermithrax. Now, with a sigh, she let herself sink back until she felt the smooth stone at her back. She crossed her arms behind her head and looked up, there where, in her world, the sky had been.
An expanse of speckled red spread before her eyes, at first still resembling a layer of clouds in the light of the setting sun: a rock ceiling that extended infinitely in all directions, a few thousand yards over them. The network of glowing red veins that had run through the walls of the rock shaft also appeared in the interior of Hell in dirty orange.
Anyway, Hell … the term seemed to Merle to be ever more unsuitable for the place they’d found at the end of the shaft. A desolate rock landscape formed the bottom of this underground kingdom—at least the part where they were—and, like the ceiling, it was shot through in many places with glowing veins, some as fine as hairs, others as broad as Vermithrax’s legs. The stone felt warm, but not really hot anywhere, and the wind blowing down here smelled of tar and the strange sweetness that Merle had noticed at the edge of the abyss.
The ceiling toward which she was gazing likewise consisted of rock, but for the human eye, its great height reduced the structure to spots of light and dark, dipped in the shimmering red of the fire veins.
Merle didn’t really know what to think about all this. On the one hand, the environment was impressive and fear-inspiring because of its immeasurable size; but on the other hand, she told herself that this was nothing but a gigantic cavern in the bowels of the earth, perhaps a whole system of caverns. It had nothing to do with the Hell talked about in the Bible. However, and this was the catch, this might change suddenly as soon as they actually bumped into more Lilim—and they expected to at any time. Even now, at rest, Vermithrax was alert, his body tense.
However, Merle now realized that Professor Burbridge had called this place Hell only for lack of a better name. He’d pulled the myth over the reality like a mask, to make it more understandable for the general public.
“Vermithrax?”
The obsidian lion turned from his wings and looked over at her. “Hmm?”
“Those creatures, up there on the rock wall, they looked as if they were made of stone.”
The lion growled agreement. “As if the rock wall itself had come to life.”
“Isn’t that a strange coincidence?”
“You mean because I am of stone?”
She rolled onto her stomach and supported her chin in both hands to be able to look Vermithrax in the eyes. “Yes, somehow. I mean, I know that you have nothing to do with them. But yet, it is strange, isn’t it?”
The lion sat up so that he could look at Merle but keep his eyes on the area around the rock at the same time. “I’ve already thought about that.”
“And?”
“We simply know too little about the Lilim.”
“How much do you lions know about yourselves? For instance, how come your mane is stone, but all the same it feels soft to the touch? And why does your tongue move although you’re made of obsidian?”
“It’s stone inspirited with a soul,” he said, as if that were answer enough. When he saw that Merle wouldn’t be content with that, he went on, “It’s stone, but it’s also flesh or hair. It has the structure and the strength and the hardness of stone, but there’s also life within it, and that changes everything. That’s the only ex
planation I can give you. There have never been scientists among us lions who’ve investigated all these things. We’re not like you humans. We can accept things without taking them apart and snatching the last secret out of them.”
Merle thought these words over while she waited for the Queen to express herself. But the voice inside her was silent.
“And the Lilim?” Merle asked finally. “Do you think they’re also made of stone with a soul?”
“To me, those creatures didn’t look as if they possessed a soul. But there are men who say the same thing about us lions. So then, who am I to judge the Lilim?”
“That sounds quite wise.”
Vermithrax laughed. “It isn’t at all difficult to pass uncertainty off as wisdom. Your scholars and philosophers and priests have been doing that since you humans have existed.” After a short pause he added, “The leaders of us lions too, by the way.”
It was the first time Merle had heard him say something disparaging about other lions, and she had the feeling that it had cost him great effort. In fact, the lion folk differed much more from humans than she’d thought until now. Perhaps, she carried the thought further, the relationship of lions to Lilim was even closer than to humans. She wondered if this idea should frighten her, but she felt nothing but curiosity about it.
It came right down to the fact that everything down here frightened her somehow, even the rock on which she lay and the mysterious warmth that rose from inside it. She had the feeling it could explode at any moment, like the volcanoes she’d heard of. But she suppressed this uncomfortable thought too, like so many others.
“What should we do when we’ve found Lord Light?” She put the question to no one in particular. That was what had busied her on the long flight into the abyss, the question of the goal of her mission. Slowly her eyes traveled over the cheerless rock desert extending in all directions. The landscape didn’t look as though anyone could live here voluntarily, certainly no prince or ruler like the mysterious Lord Light.