by Holly Rayner
She took Abraham’s pulse and looked for signs of serious injury as Ramin dug through the bag. There was a nasty bump on his head, but he wasn’t bleeding there. But his skin was cold and clammy, as though he were in shock.
“I think he’s just passed out, but it might be a concussion—no idea how long he’ll be knocked out,” she told Ramin anxiously. “We need to get him to a doctor, soon.”
“Easier said than done,” Ramin replied with a frown, pulling out a mechanically powered lantern. Vanessa took it, unfolding the crank and giving it a few rapid turns until it began to glow, the bright white light washing over the cold stone.
The room was larger than Vanessa had expected, with high walls narrowing up to the vent. There were the marks of what had once been doorways on each of the four walls which had been bricked up, presumably when the tomb was finished. One had collapsed and darkness yawned beyond it.
“Where are we?” Ramin asked, wide eyed. “This isn’t a vent. It’s too large.”
“It’s some kind of atrium,” Vanessa replied. “It may be that there were multiple tombs here, and at some point during the construction they were all connected in this room. That, or it’s a labyrinth.”
“A labyrinth?” Ramin looked worried.
“You know how in movies the adventurers are always stumbling into booby traps in old temples?” Vanessa asked. “Which is ridiculous, because temples were public gathering places that dozens, if not hundreds, of people would be in and out of every day?”
“Yes?” Ramin’s expression of worry deepened.
“Well, while no-one put those kinds of traps in temples,” she explained. “They definitely put them in tombs. Grave robbing was a serious concern.”
“So, we’ve just been dropped into a maze full of deadly traps?” Ramin asked.
“Possibly,” Vanessa said, and the lantern slowly dimmed back to darkness.
“There are some supplies in the professor’s bag,” Ramin said as Vanessa cranked the lantern back up. “If we stay here, we may survive long enough to be rescued.”
“The professor won’t last that long if he’s concussed,” Vanessa said, setting the lantern aside in order to slide her bag under the old man’s head. “He might suffer brain damage if he doesn’t wake up soon. He’ll live to the morning if we’re lucky, but it will be days before anyone comes looking for us here. We have to get out of here and find help.”
“Do you think there’s a way out?” Ramin asked, looking around.
“I think our only other option is to sit here and wait to die,” Vanessa pointed out. “I’d rather take my chances with the labyrinth than starving slowly.”
“Fair enough,” Ramin said, climbing to his feet. “What about the professor?”
Vanessa looked down at the man with a frown.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t think there’s really anything we can do for him. But we can’t just leave him alone…”
They sat for a while in silence. The already chilly tomb grew colder as the sun set in the desert above them. The professor’s breath made white clouds above his lips, reassuring Vanessa that he was, for the moment at least, still alive.
She kept the lantern cranked whenever it began to dim and Ramin sorted through their supplies, spreading them out on the cold stone around him. They had three flasks, none of them completely full, and a few granola bars, a box of matches, the lantern, and a few excavation tools.
Vanessa and Ramin both had their phones, but neither would get any signal this far out in the desert. They’d tried to determine if they had a way to build some kind of sled for Abraham, but Vanessa wasn’t certain they should move him, even if they could.
It had been perhaps an hour since they’d fallen when Professor Van Rees opened his eyes. He made a confused sound, catching Vanessa’s attention, then tried to sit up, groaning in pain and lying back down as Vanessa hurried to his side and urged him to rest.
“Where are we?” he mumbled, confused.
“Inside the tomb,” Vanessa explained. “I think. I believe we may have fallen into one of the antechambers.”
“Then it’s really here?” Abraham asked, awed. “We’re inside it?”
“Yes,” Vanessa said, sniffling as she held his hand. “The tomb of Amanirenas. We found it. We would have found it during that last expedition if not for the storm. We were so close all along!”
“I knew it.” Abraham sighed, leaning back with a tired exhale. “I knew it was here. I’m so sorry, Vanessa. I never meant for this to happen. After so many years, I just wanted to see it, just once. I didn’t care how. I shouldn’t have let Peterson use me. And I should never have allowed him to take advantage of you.”
“Damn right you shouldn’t have,” Vanessa said through her tears. “How could you have been so stupid? If you’d just stayed with me, we would have found it together.”
“You still can,” Abraham said, taking her hand and squeezing it weakly. “I don’t need you to forgive me. But you must get out of this place alive for me. You must find Amanirenas. That’s all that matters now.”
“I can’t leave you here,” Vanessa said, shaking her head so hard her tears fell on him. “You’re hurt.”
“Don’t be foolish, girl,” Abraham said, voice rough with pain and exhaustion. “You can’t do anything for me here. Find a way out of here and you can sit by my hospital bed all you like. But until then, you can’t give up.”
He patted her hand reassuringly and Vanessa sobbed.
“I love you, old man,” Vanessa said, scrubbing at her eyes.
“I love you too, girl.” Abraham sighed. “Now, get out of here. I’m not ready to die just yet.”
Vanessa nodded and stumbled to her feet. Ramin took her by the shoulders, pulling her into a comforting hug.
“Should we leave him the lantern?” she asked Ramin, hiccuping.
“Why bother?” Abraham answered from the floor. “I don’t mind the dark. And you’ll need it more than me.”
“Thank you, professor,” Ramin said, bowing his head. “I promise we will bring back help for you.”
“Never mind that,” Abraham said dismissively. “Promise me you’ll look after her.”
“I swear it,” Ramin said, holding Vanessa closer. “I’ll protect her with my life.”
Abraham didn’t answer, only nodded before closing his eyes again.
Ramin took a deep breath of the stale air and Vanessa held up the lantern, looking at the bricked-up doorways around them.
“I suppose we should start there,” Ramin said, gesturing towards the collapsed, open door.
“Wait,” Vanessa said. “Give me a match.”
Ramin obeyed and as the lantern faded to darkness again Vanessa lit the match, watching it carefully as they stood in the center of the empty atrium. The flame stood straight up and Vanessa turned slowly, letting the flame face each doorway, until, at one of the sealed doors, the one across from the collapsed way, it flickered suddenly, the smoke vanishing between a gap in the stones.
“There!” she said. “That’s the way out. There’s an air current coming from behind this door.”
“Well, then I suppose it’s a good thing the professor had this in his supplies,” Ramin said, hefting a mallet for driving in tent spikes.
Vanessa stepped back as the Sheikh began hammering at the stones. The mallet wasn’t made for this kind of work, but the stones were old and loose already. Soon, they were collapsing back into the tunnel behind the doorway. With a last remorseful glance back at Professor Van Rees, Vanessa held up the lantern and followed Ramin into the labyrinth.
“So, exactly what kind of traps can we expect in this kind of tomb?” Ramin asked. “Do you know at all?”
“Well, it’s hard to say,” Vanessa admitted, keeping a hand on the wall as they walked cautiously, single file, down the narrow corridor. “There have been some very creative traps employed to deter grave robbers over the years. Concealed pits are probably the most common. Ma
zes like this one aren’t unusual either, full of secret doors and false rooms. And then there are the more unusual things like—”
Ramin threw out an arm to stop her suddenly, throwing them both back and onto the floor as a barrage of metal bolts fired across the narrow corridor, nearly killing them both. As soon as the firing stopped, Vanessa scrambled to her feet, hurrying to the hole the bolts had come from, peering into it curiously.
“I can’t believe it!” she said excitedly as Ramin was still getting to his feet. “I’ve heard about these in Chinese tombs, but I never thought I’d see one this far west! I suppose I should have known. Kush wasn’t called the Kingdom of the Bow for nothing.”
She pulled a penknife from her bag, wedging it under a brick to loosen it, finally sliding it out to reveal the ancient crossbow behind it.
“Automatic crossbows!” Vanessa exclaimed, delighted. “The same traps guard the tomb of Emperor Qin Shi Huang!”
“Of the Terracotta Army?” Ramin asked, impressed. “What in God’s name are they doing here?”
“This could be evidence of trade between ancient China and the ancient Near East!” Vanessa squealed. “It’s a wonder they’re still working! This is amazing!”
“What’s amazing is that they didn’t kill us,” Ramin pointed out.
“They shouldn’t be too hard to avoid,” Vanessa assured him, still examining the crossbow in open wonder. “You can see the holes in the wall they fire through. And it’s not as though they can reload themselves. We can throw something ahead of us to activate the pressure plate and then proceed without danger.”
“You make it sound so simple,” Ramin said with a frown.
“Most of these things are, if you know the trick to them,” Vanessa said casually, heading down the hall again. “Like the labyrinth. You keep a hand on the left wall and look out for secret doors and eventually you can’t not find your way out. It’s easy really—”
She was still mid-sentence as the floor collapsed beneath her, opening up into a yawning chasm above a pit of spikes. Ramin caught her, dragging her back to safety, and she stared down at what had nearly been her death with wide eyes.
“Perhaps we shouldn’t treat this place too lightly,” Ramin pointed out. Vanessa nodded in agreement.
They proceeded cautiously, keeping to the left wall and watching always for traps. They encountered a few more pits and crossbow traps, but the worst difficulty so far seemed to be the maze itself, which seemed to go on forever.
“It must be one of the biggest labyrinths ever constructed,” Vanessa said as they trudged on. “It’ll be an incredible discovery if we can get out of it alive.”
“You told me that most of the Kush pyramids you’ve seen were comparatively rather small,” Ramin said. “Just the chapel and a few antechambers, even for royalty. Why is this one so enormous and well-guarded?”
“That’s a good question,” Vanessa said, unable to help a smile. “And one I really hope we get to answer.”
She stopped short suddenly, and Ramin nearly ran into her.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I felt a breeze,” Vanessa replied, dropping to the floor. “At my ankles.” She held the lantern against the base of the wall, squinting at the shadows, and laughed. “It’s a secret door! We must be almost out. Help me try to slide it.”
Ramin threw his shoulder against the door behind hers and pushed. The section of wall slowly slid inwards on a polished interior floor, and Vanessa’s eyes widened as she took in the room beyond it. The walls were painted and the floors were crowded with riches around the base of an elaborate sarcophagus.
“Oh my goodness,” she breathed.
Ramin started to step forward and Vanessa saw the wind current of his step stir what she at first thought was dust, until she recognized its black color and slight shimmer. She dragged him back, putting her shirt over her face.
“Don’t breathe in!” she warned him. “It’s hematite dust!”
“Dust?” Ramin asked, confused, even as he tore a sleeve off of his shirt to tie around his face, giving her the other sleeve to do the same.
“The Egyptians used it to guard tombs,” Vanessa explained as she tied the scrap of fabric in place. “It’s like powdered glass. Breathe in too much, and it will slice your lungs to ribbons.”
“Good spot,” Ramin said, swallowing a nervous lump in his throat. “Will covering our faces be enough?”
“As long as we don’t linger,” Vanessa affirmed, stepping past him into the tomb.
“Is this Amanirenas?” Ramin asked, following her cautiously. “It can’t be, can it? The symbolism is wrong.”
“Exactly,” Vanessa agreed. “It’s impressive—probably a prince. But none of the figures on the walls are depicted as active rulers.”
She gestured to the intricate murals, squinting at the Meroitic hieroglyphs curiously.
“I wish I could stay here longer and decipher these,” Vanessa mourned.
“I do too, but getting out of here is more important,” Ramin said, moving past her to the bricked-up door opposite the sarcophagus. He took the mallet to it, slowly breaking it down enough for the two of them to hurry through into the next chamber, relieved to find it not covered in the deadly dust.
“I wonder who that is,” Vanessa remarked, looking back towards the room they’d left. “I don’t know of any Meroitic princes that match the age and time period in the murals.”
“I think you’re about to find out we didn’t know most of the Meroitic royalty,” Ramin said, and Vanessa turned to follow his gaze. On the other side of the small antechamber was an open doorway into another wide hall, which was lined on either side with open doorways, and through each one was another sealed tomb.
“Good God,” Vanessa said, lightheaded. “There’s so many!”
They walked together down the broad, ornate corridor, Vanessa helplessly counting tombs, until they reached ramps that led them up to a second layer, full of yet more tombs.
“This is a royal graveyard,” Vanessa said, her voice high and weak with awe. “Going back for generations! Years and years of Meroitic history we never knew about! It’s bigger than Jebel Barkal! God, it might rival the Valley of the Kings! This is going to change history!”
She swooned against Ramin’s side and he held her up, laughing, his eyes wide and dazzled at what he was seeing.
“We have to make it out now,” he said, grinning. “There’s no way in hell we can let Peterson get credit for this!”
The broad corridor eventually sloped back down to the lower level, but in the center it turned towards a wide doorway, also sealed with stone. It looked as though it had been blocked off long before any of the others.
Across from it, the corridor sloped up again and Vanessa could feel a breeze coming from that direction. That was, undoubtedly, the way out.
“Shall I?” Ramin asked, standing in front of the ancient sealed tomb with his mallet raised.
“We shouldn’t,” Vanessa said, biting her lip. “It’s bad practice.”
“We might still die down here,” Ramin countered. “Do you want to risk never seeing it?”
Vanessa frowned, then nodded decisively.
“Do it.”
Chapter Thirteen
The bricks were old, but much more sturdily set than the others. It took a while, and help from Vanessa, before they broke through. Air rushed into the hole, whipping Vanessa’s hair against her cheeks. Her heart pounded with excitement, predicament forgotten as Ramin widened the hole enough for them to step through, tying on their makeshift masks again in case of hematite dust.
Inside, the room was massive. A team of clay horses flanked the doors, painted with gold and encrusted with gems. One had collapsed over time, enough to make it apparent that the clay had been sculpted around mummified horses, presumably sacrificed for the inhabitant of the tomb.
Beyond the horses, chests and fine vases overflowed with wealth. Gold and jewels glittered in the light of
the lantern. The walls were alive with finely made murals and engraved hieroglyphs depicting the life and exploits of a great ruler dressed in golden wings, leading armies into battle.
In the center of the room was a massive gilded bed made of a single, unimaginably large piece of wood, upon which sat two of the most elaborate and beautiful sarcophagi Vanessa had ever seen. She stumbled towards them, shaken and awed, until she could stand beside them.
She nearly tripped over the row of statues lined up around the end of the bed, which she realized belatedly were heads. Heads from the statues of Roman emperor Augustus, famously beheaded and stolen during the Kushite war.
Vanessa leaned over the sarcophagus on the left as Ramin moved around to look at the one on the right. Vanessa stared into its carved death mask in trembling awe. She immediately recognized the beautiful dark face, one-eyed, with a woman’s smile, cold and victorious, clutching weapons against her dress like golden wings.
“It’s her,” Vanessa said breathlessly. “It’s really her. Amanirenas.”
She realized she was crying and hurried to dry her tears, afraid to damage anything in the room.
“Look here,” Ramin said, directing Vanessa to the large engraving above the bed.
“It’s a memorial stele,” Vanessa said, sniffing. “It says—and this is a very rough translation, so forgive me: ‘He goes ahead to prepare the renewal and protection of the soul. She follows after, leading the host of all who stood against her into the afterlife. The world that trembled before her steps weeps at her absence. The grand patron praises the Qore and Kandake. Aman opens the shining translucent spirit for rebirth. There will be eternal honor indeed for the Kandake.’
“Below that, the author changes—you can tell by the mark here. That hieroglyph is only used by royalty.”
Vanessa swallowed in sudden amazement.
“This is, these are her words,” she stuttered. “This is her writing. I mean, she probably didn’t engrave it herself, but you know what I mean.”
“What does it say?” Ramin asked, clearly enthralled.