I Do Not Trust You

by Laura J. Burns

  “It would take two years to properly excavate this room. Do you have anything to go on?” she asked. “How big is the statue? How big are the pieces? What’s it made of, exactly?”

  “I don’t know.” Ash’s voice was so quiet it was hard to hear him over the roar.

  “Well, would your cult—”

  “Stop calling it a cult!” he snapped. “I know you’re using the term in the pejorative sense, not the scholarly one.”

  “Oh fine.” She smirked. “Would the Eye have hidden it well? Like, under the floor? Disguised as part of the original room? This room is far older than the map, so they were hiding the piece in a place that was already ancient and abandoned. Would they bother trying to hide it well even though it’s already in a secret underground cave?”

  He shook his head in disgust. “You seem determined not to understand. This artifact, if restored, will bring chaos, destruction, and death to us all. Do you really think they would hide such a thing in a half-hearted manner?”

  M sighed. “Nope. Fanatics don’t do anything half-assed, I guess.” She turned away before he could respond. How were they ever supposed to find something like this? She hadn’t properly considered all the logistics of this ridiculous expedition. She’d assumed she could get her father’s location out of Ash more quickly.

  “My dad would have a better idea how to search,” she said a few minutes later. “Why don’t you get the Eye to spring him and have him help find the pieces?”

  “That’s not our deal,” Ash snapped.

  “Our deal is backwards is what I’m saying,” she replied. “Rescuing him after we find the pieces makes no sense.”

  “It was your idea.”

  “Well, I’m sorry, I was busy being in shock that my dead father was alive. I didn’t think it through,” she said.

  “Look, I’ve gone over every inch of this floor. Why do we think it’s in here and not out in the antechamber?” Ash asked.

  “Because the glyphs all lead to the sibyl, and this is the sibyl’s cave.” M’s flashlight danced over the alcoves high in the wall. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she needed to be higher up. “Let me stand on your shoulders.”

  “What? No.”

  “Wouldn’t you hide something where people couldn’t reach it?”

  Ash hesitated, and she knew she had him. “Pile our packs and stand on top of them. Then I’ll climb on you,” she said.

  “That doesn’t sound stable,” he grumbled, but he did it. Once he’d found his balance on top of the packs, he reached out a hand.

  “No, you just stay still,” she said. “Bend your knees.”

  Ash snorted, but she thought there was a laugh in there. He shook his head and bent his knees, leaning his hands on his thighs.

  “Don’t move,” she said. She took a small hop, and half-vaulted, half-climbed from his legs to his shoulders. She steadied herself against the wall as he tried to adjust to the weight. “Got it?” she asked.

  “Got it.” He slowly stood all the way up. “You do this often?”

  “I’m just used to climbing. Though usually I’m climbing inanimate objects.” M scanned the wall in front of her. One alcove was at her waist, so she could see down into it. Nothing there. The alcove above it was at eye level, so she could see up. Nothing. “We’re going to have to do this again at the next row.”

  “Lovely,” he said sarcastically.

  As she turned to jump down, the beam of her head lamp bounced off something in the alcove above. “Wait,” she said, turning slowly back. With the light straight on, the alcove looked empty. But when she held it sideways, the light caused a series of tiny shadows to appear along the lip of the alcove, running vertically up one side. “Can you stand up higher?”

  “No.”

  “Tiptoes?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, hang on.” M lifted herself onto her toes, working to stay balanced on his shoulders. It didn’t give her much, just an inch or so. But it was enough for her to reach one hand up into the alcove. There were carvings along the lip. She ran her fingers over them, feeling the sharp angles and rounded ones. Lines and dots. Glyphs.

  “Did you find something?” Ash asked.

  “Maybe.” M slid her cell from her pocket, trying not to move too much.

  “I can’t stay like this for much longer,” Ash said.

  “Just a few more seconds.” She positioned the cell as well as she could and snapped a few photos.

  “The packs are starting to shift.”

  M glanced at the pictures. Glyphs. One for river. One for temple. And a phonogram for Sequana.

  With a yell, Ash collapsed. M managed to hang on to her phone as she tumbled off his shoulders. She fell backward so there wasn’t a lot she could do except tuck into a ball as much as possible. She expected to hit the hard rock, but instead landed on Ash. He caught her head in his hands and they lay still for a second, shocked.

  “You okay?” M asked.

  “The packs moved, but luckily I fell right on top of them,” he replied. “You?”

  “Fine. Thanks for catching me.” M stood up, slipping her cell into her jeans pocket. She drew in a shaky breath, regretting leaving his solid warmth so soon. “Sorry. I guess that was a bad idea.”

  Ash stayed seated, rubbing his neck. Nobody spoke. M’s mind was racing. Sequana. Sequana was the Gallo-Roman river goddess of the Seine. Along with river and temple, and a few other glyphs she hadn’t had time to translate. It was the same kind of structure used on her father’s map, the language of the Horus priests. A phonogram to denote the area, and glyphs to describe the exact place.

  It’s a location marker, M thought, stunned. A signpost!

  If she could figure out what these glyphs referred to, she would find the location of one of the pieces of the Set artifact.

  “It’s not here, is it?” Ash asked finally.

  “No,” she replied. “But I know where to find it.”

  CHAPTER 6

  M: Mike, I need you.

  MIKE: Middle of the night.

  M: Sorry. I don’t even know what day it is. I’m in Italy. Been caving for more than 20 hours.

  MIKE: WTF?

  M: My dad is alive.

  MIKE: WTF?????

  MIKE: What? How?

  M: A guy named Ashwin Sood brought me a note from Dad. It’s in the Horus language. Says I should trust Ash and give him the map.

  MIKE: The map map?

  M: Yeah. Ash says Dad’s being held prisoner by a cult. They want to use the map to find the pieces of a Set statue. If they put the pieces together, Set will reincarnate.

  MIKE: Sorry what?

  M: And Ash has his own cult that wants to stop them.

  MIKE: Sweetie, this sounds crazy.

  M: I know. But it’s Dad’s writing. It’s the Horus language. And Ash talked to Dad, I can tell. No time to explain. I need help. We came to Baiae. The piece isn’t here but it used to be.

  MIKE: The sibyl cave?

  M: Yes. And there were hidden glyphs. In the Horus language.

  MIKE: Horus language in a Greco-Roman ruin? Bizarre.

  M: See? The map leads to these pieces of the Set artifact, we just didn’t know it. Horus glyphs in Italy proves it. I need to translate these new glyphs, fast. If I find the pieces I can trade them for my dad.

  MIKE: M, call the police. Call them now.

  M: But they’ll kill Dad! I don’t even know what country he’s in.

  MIKE: That guy must know where your dad is.

  M: He won’t say unless I give him the map.

  MIKE: Seriously, call the police.

  M: You want to help me or not?

  MIKE: Fine. Go on.

  M: The map led to a piece of the statue that was in the cave. But it’s not there anymore. Whoever moved it left glyphs to say where they moved it next.

  MIKE: Why would they steal a hidden thing and then write where they were bringing it?

  M: Sorry! Forgot: Ash’s cult pro
tects the pieces. If one piece is threatened, they move them all and make a new map.

  MIKE: Are you with Ash now?

  M: Yes. He’s paying for all this.

  MIKE: M, please, this isn’t safe.

  “Who are you texting?” Ash’s voice jolted M out of her conversation. The Italian countryside flew by as he drove. M angled the phone away from him. She’d have to wipe her texts later.

  “Mike,” she said.

  “Who’s Mike? What are you telling him?” Ash demanded.

  “Whatever I damn well please,” she snapped.

  “What if your guardians mirrored your phone?” Ash said. “What if they read what you’re saying?”

  “Shouldn’t you be more worried they’re tracking my cell?” M asked.

  He thumped his hands on the steering wheel in frustration. “Well, now I am!”

  “Relax, I have my own phone, my own provider, my own everything,” she said, trying not to laugh. “Besides, I’d like to see Bob and Liza try mirroring my phone. They can’t even use Netflix without help.”

  “Well, perhaps you can find us plane tickets instead of texting your boyfriend,” Ash said, an edge in his voice.

  M turned back to her phone. She pulled up the photos of the carvings. They were grainy and dark, the glyphs hard to make out. Hopefully Mike could work some imaging magic and clarify them. She sent them all.

  M: I need to figure out this location by the time we get to Paris. I haven’t told Ash about them. He still thinks there’s a decryption key.

  MIKE: Where’s the map?

  M: Same place as always.

  MIKE: I don’t like you traveling with this guy.

  M: Well, deal with it. So the map was made around 900 C.E. It led us to Baiae. Some time after, Ash’s cult came and moved the piece. They left a note for later Horus followers saying where they moved it. According to Ash, every one of the pieces should’ve been moved at the same time. He said they should’ve made a new map, too. I guess that one is still lost.

  MIKE: THEY’RE USING AN OUTDATED MAP?!

  M: Exactly! Dad’s map will only lead to old hiding spots. That’s why they haven’t found anything. But theoretically, all the places should have a backup signpost in case the map gets lost. I hope, anyway.

  MIKE: And you want Ash to keep thinking there’s a code only you can crack.

  M: Yup. I need to keep him with me until I can figure out where Dad is.

  MIKE: These pics are too dark.

  M: There’s a glyph for Sequana. She’s the goddess of the Seine, so I told Ash we have to go to Paris. I also saw temple and river.

  MIKE: There’s another one. Goddess, I think. The structure is odd.

  M: There was a circle. Or some glyphs carved in a curved line.

  MIKE: One more glyph I can’t make out.

  M: Can you work on it? I have to get plane tix. Will text when we get to Paris. Have good news for me.

  MIKE: No pressure, huh?

  M: Sorry. Wipe this convo. Love you.

  MIKE: Be safe.

  * * *

  Memphis had taken her backpack into the shower room with her. Of course she had. Ash ran his hand through his wet hair and let out a groan. He’d gotten them first-class lounge access so they could clean up before their flight to France—which would be shorter than the wait to board the flight. A four-hour wait for a two-hour flight? They should have just driven to Paris. He’d been hoping the layover would allow him to search her belongings, that their adventure in the caves would have exhausted her to the point of carelessness. Or at least would have convinced her to trust him enough to leave her bag with him.

  He’d been stupid.

  The girl was never going to be careless about the map. Her father’s life depended on it. Ash was kidding himself thinking he could outsmart her.

  But he wasn’t about to let her outsmart him, either. She was lying about something. There had been nothing in the cave, he was sure of it. And if the piece wasn’t there, why had they gone there at all? Or had she actually found it, and somehow managed to hide it from him? Maybe she was holding on to her pack because the piece was in there now.

  She would have to sleep eventually. Until then, he simply had to go along with her. Ash pulled out his cell. Philip would want an update.

  But he stared at the blank text box. How was he supposed to explain? “I disobeyed your orders, followed the girl’s plan, went exploring an ancient sibyl’s cave, found nothing, and am now preparing to follow the girl yet again.”

  “I’ve lost my bloody mind,” he muttered. Philip would be furious if he got an update like that, and Philip was the master of holding their god’s stillness in his heart. One thing was certain. Philip must not learn where he was. The Eye would show up in force to take the map from Memphis. They would take her entirely, in fact, lock her away forever if need be. Or worse.

  Ash couldn’t let that happen. The girl was infuriating—amazing, but infuriating. He couldn’t help but be impressed by her fearlessness. Her stubbornness, too. She was trying to save her father. It was not as important as saving the world, but it was noble. After all, she didn’t believe she was putting them all in danger. She thought they were all insane.

  You could prove it to her, a voice whispered in his head. But it was forbidden. He was already disobeying orders as it was. Slowly, he put his cell back in his pocket. He’d update Philip later, once he learned why Memphis was bringing them to France. After they had the piece of Set in their possession, if that was really her plan. It was a matter of hours, a day at most. Philip could wait.

  Ash felt a wave of self-hatred. He’d never lied to Philip before. Never disobeyed. What was he doing?

  I want to find the pieces of Set. The thought snuck in before he could stop it. I’ve always wanted to.

  But that wasn’t what Philip wanted. A bead of sweat formed on Ash’s forehead. He took a deep breath, trying to force his thoughts in order. It was too dangerous to go after the pieces, Philip had said so. And Philip was his mentor, his constant, the one person who had always been there for him. He had never betrayed Philip and didn’t intend to start now.

  His mother’s face burst into his mind. Seething and filled with hatred. Was it a memory, or just him imagining her reaction when she discovered his betrayal?

  “No,” he whispered. He must not think of her and her bitterness. The revulsion in her eyes when she looked at him. He had to be calm, like still water. He closed his eyes and tried to quiet his mind.

  No matter what I do, the voice in his head whispered, I will be betraying a god to whom I owe loyalty.

  * * *

  “We need a room for the night,” Ash said in surprisingly good French. They were at a five-star hotel on the outskirts of Paris. M got the feeling he never did anything on the cheap.

  The desk clerk tapped away at her computer. M yawned. “Two rooms,” she corrected. She still needed to translate the signpost glyphs tonight and couldn’t let Ash know.

  “One room,” he repeated.

  The desk clerk raised her eyebrows and waited.

  “I’m not sharing,” M told Ash, speaking English.

  “And I’m not letting you out of my sight,” he replied. “You won’t tell me what you found in Baiae. You won’t tell me what we’re looking for in Paris. Or where we’re looking. For all I know, you’re using me as your private travel service and now you’re going to ditch me and try to go it on your own.”

  “I don’t know where my dad is, remember? Want to tell me that, and I’ll tell you where we’re going next?” M asked.

  “Did you find the piece in Baiae?” he demanded. “Are you planning to call your guardians to make a deal?”

  M blinked at him in surprise. She’d been so busy trying to hide the truth that it hadn’t occurred to her he might suspect something else entirely. “What? No.”

  “We’re in this together, remember? One room,” he said.

  Damn, she thought. No argument came to mind. She was so
tired she couldn’t think straight. When was the last time she’d slept?

  The clerk was still waiting.

  “One room,” M told her in French. “And can you have a pot of coffee sent up?”

  “You should really sleep,” Ash said as they took the small elevator up to the top floor. “You must be exhausted.”

  “I closed my eyes on the plane,” she said. Not that she’d slept. She knew the instant she was out he would grab her backpack and start looking for the map. He wouldn’t find it, but that in itself might prove she was lying. He was right, though, she was exhausted. She barely knew what day it was, to say nothing of the emotional fatigue.

  Ash was watching her, his expression thoughtful. M forced a sarcastic smile. “Is there something on my face?”

  He rolled his eyes, exasperated—which seemed to be his typical emotion when it came to her. That suited M fine. If he underestimated her, he wouldn’t be as careful. “You can have the bed. If you’re planning more spelunking, I’m not going until you’ve slept. The last thing I need is you collapsing from exhaustion fifty feet underground.” He unlocked the door and stepped back, letting her into the room first.

  M headed straight for the bathroom. “I’m gonna be a while,” she called. Her cell was in her hand the second the door closed. Mike had sent the cleaned-up photos, with a detailed note describing how the fixes were done. M skipped over it, opening the first image, and stared.

  There was a phonogram for Sequana and glyphs for river and goddess. Then three glyphs for temple—one on top of the other. The glyph for crown was carved beside the second temple glyph. Then, under the temple glyphs, the Sequana-river-goddess glyphs repeated. M frowned, zooming in. On closer inspection, this set of glyphs and the first set were the curved line she’d seen. The glyphs themselves were carved on a curve, almost like they were circling the crown and temple glyphs.

  M: The glyph positioning is unusual.

  MIKE: Hi, Mike! Trip was fine, strange guy I’m traveling with didn’t kill me.

  M: Well, obvs.

  M: Glyphs that indicate the Seine are sort of wrapped around the others.