The Tekhen of Anuket

by Aiki Flinthart

  The Priests of Set fell beneath Blódbál’s bite. Phoenix danced clear of their tainted blades and laughed in their eerie, masked faces. He spun; sliced; turned; stabbed; killed without thought or hesitation. His mind and soul resounded with Blódbál’s triumph at each death and each ending increased its hold over him until he saw the world through a red haze and neither knew nor cared which was friend and which foe.

  At last there was only one hooded monk left standing before him. Phoenix raised his arm, almost disappointed that this would be his last. Before he could strike, the priest turned and bolted into the darkness, his booted feet slapping on the cobbles. With a war-cry, Phoenix sprinted after him.

  From the gloom, someone yelled and stepped in his way. Phoenix swung Blódbál automatically, aiming to kill so he could continue the chase. To his surprise, the newcomer turned the blow aside with his own blade. Blood afire, Phoenix turned on this fresh enemy with savage delight. Dancing in, he faked an overhead strike then sliced at the knees. Again a blade deflected his. Continuing the momentum, Phoenix turned and slashed again; this time angling up from below. Once more he failed to connect. Blow after blow was spurned and Phoenix felt the anger blossom anew. Nobody could beat him when he held Blódbál. Nobody.

  He quickened his strikes; changing direction with incredible speed; turning to leap forward then back; even thrusting without regard for his own vulnerability. Nothing he did could break through the guard of his opponent. Every blow was parried.

  Slowly, it dawned on Phoenix that his enemy was only blocking, not attacking. Why? It made no sense. There was something not right here. Something tugged at his mind; some feeling of...connection...recognition? The red mist of rage began to slip away, leaving Phoenix feeling cold and more than a little shaky. His swordstrokes slowed and began to waver. His arms sagged; Blódbál weighed a ton. Finally, he stepped back and looked into the dark eyes of his foe for the first time.

  Marcus stared back at him, frowning, chest heaving, sword still held ready and dripping blood.

  Confused, Phoenix shook his head but the image remained. “Marcus? Was I....was I just fighting you?” It didn’t seem possible. It couldn’t be.

  Marcus nodded, watching him with a wary expression, still poised on his toes for quick movement. “The enemy are fled. We should go inside before more Roman soldiers or priests come.”

  Phoenix agreed absently, wiping his blade and sliding it into its sheath, feeling sick. He stumbled toward Heron’s house, his head and heart pounding. He noticed Marcus didn’t put his sword away. His stomach lurched at the thought. Marcus didn’t trust him.

  “Where’s Jade?” He mumbled. At least she would still be his friend. It was getting harder and harder to think straight. The last of his berserker strength drained from his limbs, leaving them rubbery and weak.

  “She’s gone to get Brynn,” Marcus replied.

  That triggered a memory. “But Brynn was stealing. He ran away.”

  “No,” the Roman sounded harsh, “Brynn knew his swordwork was poor, so he slipped aside, picked up stones and took down three of the archers with his sling. He is no coward.”

  The full impact of what he had thought and done now slammed in Phoenix’s skull like a hammer. He was sickened by his beliefs and actions. Nausea overcame him and he threw up noisily into a potplant in Heron’s courtyard. How could he have thought so badly of Brynn? How could he have been so excited and happy to kill people? What had happened to the Phoenix who had been revolted by the thought of killing Roman soldiers back in England? What had he become?

  As he stumbled into the dining room, he realised he had become worse even than the person he hated and feared most in the real world – Jacob, his stepfather. Far worse.

  At that moment, Jade returned to Heron’s house. She looked as troubled as Phoenix felt.

  “Where’s Brynn?” He looked for the boy as she entered. His tone may have sounded sharper than he intended, for she cast him a quick, assessing, half-scared look that made his heart sink. She didn’t trust him, either.

  She sank into a chair with a sigh, propping her staff against the table. “Brynn has been captured by the Priests of Set. I went to find him and saw two Priests carrying him away. They were gone before I could catch them or get help. Every spell I threw at them bounced off like water.”

  Phoenix clenched his jaw as guilt brought fresh bile to his throat. He barely met her eyes. She looked away, as though finding it hard not to blame him. Why not? If he had been in control, they might have been able to save Brynn.

  “He’s like the little brother I never had,” her soft words caught on a half-sob. “He has to be alright, doesn’t he?” She looked at Heron and Marcus as if for hope but their faces were grim. Jade closed her eyes and covered her mouth. Phoenix could think of nothing to say. She hadn’t looked to him anyway. A rock of self-loathing settled in his stomach.

  “So now they have your friend and the goddess Anuket was not imprisoned in her own obelisk,” Heron stated the obvious with disappointment.

  “Yes,” Jade murmured, “and, to make matters worse, we’re still not sure when the ‘death of the moon’ deadline is to release Anuket and now the priests of Set know where we are. We can’t stay here much longer or we’ll put you in danger, too, Heron.”

  The old man waved her objection away. “Don’t be silly, child. They won’t be back tonight. The square is swarming with Roman soldiers. Right now we need to decide what your next course of action should be. You obviously need to rescue Brynn and complete your mission.”

  When they didn’t reply, Heron patted Jade on the shoulder. “We’re all tired and hungry. I’ll send for food and my maps of the city. Perhaps a little time and thought will reveal a plan.”

  For awhile, as they ate, they tossed around various ideas: which obelisk Anuket might really be in; how to rescue Brynn; how to deal with the priests of Set. Phoenix contributed nothing. He had nothing worth hearing. He stared at his sword where it lay on the table. Finally, Marcus’ voice pulled him back from his own fruitless, guilt-ridden thoughts.

  “Jade,” the Roman mused, “are you sure you put that illusion spell on us? Are you certain Zhudai cannot Farsee us?”

  Jade blinked and sent him an anxious glance. “Of course. I even put it on Heron, just in case. Why?”

  “I’m just trying to understand how the Priests of Set knew to find us here.” He shook his dark head and frowned. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Ah...um...yes,” Heron raised one thin hand, looking sheepish. “I’m afraid that may have been my fault.”

  “How?” Jade and Marcus looked at the old man in surprise.

  “Well,” the old inventor grimaced, “when I went to see the Proconsul, I did mention that I might have found evidence of the Phoenix legend. I said I had brought it home for further study. It’s quite possible that Proconsul Priscus’ chief advisor overheard my comments. Court gossip says he is close to the High Priests of Set and was actively against my research trip to Memphis. It’s most likely that he sent the Priests to destroy my evidence and they just arrived at the wrong time.”

  Jade closed her eyes. Phoenix could see she was struggling to maintain calm and patience but at least she was succeeding.

  He tried to make sense of everything; to connect all the threads and understand what was going on. Weariness blurred his thinking like wet paint running together on a canvas. He couldn’t see the big picture any longer and the details didn’t even make sense.

  A sigh from Jade caught his wandering attention again. She pulled out her herb bag and selected some fresh leaves she must have picked from the housekeepers’ garden.

  Marcus frowned at her. “You don’t need herbs. If you rely too much on them, you won’t ever know your own strength.”

  She grimaced. “It’s just barley grass for energy. I’m tired. Stop fussing”

  He eyed her steadily, his mouth pressed thin. Phoenix found the hint of disharmony between them worrying.

 
; “Let’s forget about how the priests found us and concentrate first on how we’re going to save Brynn then find whatever tekhen Anuket is really being held in and destroy it before the deadline,” she finally said but her voice betrayed her uncertainty.

  Phoenix surfaced back into full alertness feeling like someone had called his name. He sat quietly, listening but no-one spoke. His body felt like he’d been pounded all over with a big, heavy pillow. He wanted to sleep but something unresolved nagged at the back of his mind.

  With an effort, he recalled the events of the evening: his anger with Brynn; the destruction of the tekhen with no release of Anuket; sickening memories of the battle with the priests of Set; his clash with Marcus; Brynn’s capture. It had not been a good night.

  Automatically, he reached for Blódbál then hesitated with his hand still inches away from the hilt. He could almost hear it calling him; urging him to join with it; cajoling him with battle images and promises of glory. His hand moved closer of its own accord. The urge to strap it onto his hip was almost unbearable. With a shudder, Phoenix pulled back from it.

  He couldn’t be trusted with this weapon. Jade was right. It was beyond his control. He couldn’t be the hero it wanted because his notion of a true hero wasn’t a bloodthirsty berserker. A true hero walked away from a fight and didn’t kill unless it was absolutely necessary; a true hero certainly didn’t turn on his friends.

  Looking around, he saw Jade sitting with her eyes closed again while Marcus and Heron watched her. The faint frown on Marcus’ face told Phoenix exactly how hard Jade had been pushing herself. Brynn was captured by the enemy and she was trying to fix everything on her own. Phoenix closed his own eyes. He had let all three of his companions down with his weakness. Now it was time he made up for it. As he watched, Jade ran a hand through her long, white-blonde hair and sighed heavily.

  “I just get the feeling we’re missing something obvious – some connection between everything I can’t quite see.”

  In that moment, Phoenix finally joined up the dots and almost kicked himself for his own stupidity. He sat up straight. Jade exchanged wary looks with Marcus. The Roman boy had tensed at Phoenix’s movement. His hand now rested on his sword. Phoenix tried to ignore it but the thought that Marcus felt threatened was painful. He put it aside. There were other issues to deal with first.

  He drew a deep breath. Swiftly, he explained to Jade the revelation he’d had in Set’s prison – that their job in each quest was not just to complete the task but to restore Balance and Harmony in each place.

  Next, he apologised to Marcus for turning on him and assured him it would never, ever happen again. The Roman bowed stiffly but it was clear he wasn’t ready to believe Phoenix’s promises. It hurt but he could understand Marcus’ hesitation. As long as Blódbál remained in his hands, he was dangerous to his own friends.

  Finally, he slid the sword toward Jade. “Put it in the bag. I won’t use it unless we have no choice.”

  The group was silent awhile then Jade touched his hand with a tentative smile. “Thankyou. I’ll keep it safe.” She pulled out the Hyllion Bagia and pushed Blódbál into its inky depths, taking care to touch only the leather hilt with the tips of her fingers.

  He had to bite his tongue to stop a cry of protest. Even from within the Bag he could feel its seductive pull. It took all his strength not to demand it back; not to cradle it to his chest and reassure it he would carry it until his death. The looks of relief on his friends’ faces weren’t even enough to make him feel better. It was like losing an arm.

  With an effort, Phoenix wrenched his thoughts back on track and looked at each of his friends in turn.

  “I know where Anuket has to be. She’s got to be in the Tekhen of Set – the God of chaos and disease; the god who benefits most from her absence. We have to destroy the Tekhen of Set and I’m guessing it will be protected - inside the grounds of the Temple of Set, here in Alexandria.”

  Heron nodded in agreement, so Phoenix continued. “Then, since that’s where Brynn will be, too, I guess our next destination is the Temple of Set. We should get some sleep now and take on the Priests of Set tomorrow, when we’re fresh.”

  “I don’t think you’ll have time to sleep, my friends,” Heron shook his head sadly.

  “Why?” Jade turned anxious green eyes on him.

  “I think your deadline is tonight. You mentioned the ‘death of the moon’. Well, tonight is considered to be the first night of the dying moon - the last quarter is beginning,” Heron looked at them straitly. “Just before dawn on this night, each month, every prisoner in the cells of the Temple is sacrificed to Set in the Rite of Burning. If you don’t save Brynn, his soul will be condemned to the worst afterlife he believes in - forever.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  In one swift move, Phoenix stood up and pushed the remains of their scanty meal to one side. He snatched up the maps of Alexandria that Heron had sent for and spread them out on the dining table.

  “Heron’s right. It’s too much of a co-incidence that this night is sacred to the Set priests and Brynn is taken by them and I’m sure they’ve been working deliberately to stop us releasing Anuket. We’ve run out of time. It’s tonight. Heron, show me where the Temple is,” he demanded.

  Heron pointed at a spot on the western edge of the harbour. “It’s in the Rhakotis, the area of town where most of the Egyptian population live.”

  “And how can we gain access to it?” Marcus frowned over the map, tracing the streets with one finger. The Temple was bounded on the north by the harbour, on the west by a canal and on the east by a large, open square. On the southern side was another courtyard, onto which the main front doors opened. It would be difficult to approach unseen from any direction.

  “You can’t,” Heron shook his head. “There is no access to the public at any time and the entrances are all well-guarded. I’ve only been in there once – when I was installing door openers for the front doors. The place is impregnable. The walls are eight gradii high and there are over a hundred priest-warriors in the building.”

  They were silent awhile, pondering the maps without any brilliant ideas emerging.

  Phoenix scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “It’s no use. We need to see the place before we can come up with anything solid. We’ll have to go there now and come up with something on the spot.”

  Jade grimaced. “I hate to go in blind but I think you’re right. Let’s gather whatever gear we might need and put it in the Bag. Quickly. It’s almost midnight already.”

  “The city is under curfew,” Heron reminded them. “There will be soldiers patrolling.”

  “We’ll just have to avoid them, won’t we?” Phoenix folded the map and tucked it away in his shirt. It was time to get moving.

  A short time later the four crept from shadow to shadow, through the centre of the city. Heron had insisted on coming and they couldn’t refuse. His knowledge of the city was invaluable, even if his skill in sneaking wasn’t the best. The streets were poorly lit by smoky torches that hung in sconces from stone walled buildings but the waning moon had risen and was casting a feeble silver light. For a city under curfew, the streets were extremely busy. Soldiers patrolled in pairs and city firemen made random checks on torches and households to ensure household fires were safely contained. It made hiding very tricky.

  As they neared the Harbour, their pace slowed. This was the centre of town and better lit than the outer suburbs. Large, stone buildings loomed high into the night sky. Smaller ones, housing small businesses, were shuttered and closed for the night. They could smell the ocean and hear the distant slosh of waves against the harbour walls.

  Feeling nervous without his sword, Phoenix nudged Jade. “You’ve definitely got all our weapons in the Bag then?”

  “Yes,” Jade nodded. “Heron said that if we’re found by the Romans, we’ll have a better chance if we’re unarmed - but I should be able to get out a weapon or two if something goes pear-shaped.”


  “Good,” Phoenix shoved his hands into the pockets of his breeches. He felt the tug of Blódbál’s power and knew it was close by. The idea was both reassuring and scary.

  Jade paused and turned apprehensive green eyes on him. Her hand crept to the front of her shirt and held it closed. “You want Blódbál back, don’t you?”

  Phoenix clenched his jaw. He’d been trying to think about something else but she was right. Underneath everything was a burning ache to have that sword back in his grasp.

  “Well, don’t give it to me, if you want to survive this game,” he gave a rough laugh, trying to turn it into a joke.

  There was an awkward pause as they began walking again and Jade stayed silent. She still held her shirt and the Hyllion Bagia beneath it. At last, she spoke softly again.

  “I don’t blame you for being afraid of the sword, you’re pretty scary when you’re in berserker mode.”

  Phoenix jerked a shoulder, trying to ignore the urge to yell at her. He wasn’t scared of Blodbal – well, ok he was - more than anything, he wanted it back.

  “But,” she glanced around at the shadowed streets, “I don’t think you’ll be able to avoid using it. You’re going to have to learn to control it, Phoenix.”

  He grunted, hoping she’d take it for agreement. Truth was: he didn’t have a hope of controlling the sword. That was the only part that did frighten him.

  “Oh!” Jade stopped and Phoenix looked wildly around, wondering what was wrong. He followed her rapt gaze and saw....a big building. It was a nice, impressive, stone building with fluted columns and artistic sculptures on the walls but still, just a building.

  “It’s the Library of Alexandria,” Jade whispered in awe. “It was the centre of learning and culture for hundreds of years before it burnt down and all the books were lost forever.”