Reflections in the Nile

by J. Suzanne Frank

  Every now and then the yowl of a cat or the glint of a jewel in the wall painting made her stop. Cheftu stood motionless behind her, close enough that she could feel his heat.

  They walked into a huge room with three pools. The sense of space was incredible. She couldn't see the walls on the other side. The pools were also large, even for someone who had grown used to the kitchen-size pools in Karnak. Torches (thank the gods!) were mounted around the perimeter, and Chloe walked to the second one, the only one filled with water.

  “Nay…” Cheftu's voice echoed through the chamber. She turned, and he beckoned her to the third one. Three's a charm, she thought blithely. The pool appeared to be covered with a smooth platform of some sort.

  Cheftu clapped his hands and two figures stepped to his side. Chloe took a step back before she realized they were wearing masks. For a moment she was looking into the feral stare of Anubis and the vengeful glare of Sekhmet.

  However, they were only people; even in the dancing light she could see their perfectly formed human bodies. They advanced on her, chanting, and Chloe realized they were going to strip her. Cheftu's gaze was on her; she couldn't see it, but she could definitely feel it Sekhmet held her shoulders while Anubis’ black hands untied her robe. Her blood zipped through her veins, sweat beading her upper lip. The “other” ordered her to follow commands in such a fierce tone that Chloe didn't budge. But her heart raced as she debated how to defend herself should it become necessary. They stepped back, leaving her as naked as her first day alive—minus the hospital bracelet. She reached for her necklace. They had taken it, too.

  Cheftu stood with his back to her as he lit a huge bowl of incense. He keened a prayer, but Chloe didn't have time to listen. The “gods” had fastened themselves to her arms and were walking her to the edge of the pool. Without even a countdown, they pushed her onto the platform. She stifled her scream as what she thought was solid footing dissolved slowly around her, leaving her thigh deep and sinking.

  Cammy never mentioned drowning in noxious substances. What was it? Why did she continue to sink? She was now up to her waist. Despite her audience, Chloe struggled, trying to pull out her right leg which only succeeded in forcing her left leg deeper. She looked up in panic. The two “gods” stood beside each other, mute as columns, and Cheftu was hidden by the smoke of frankincense.

  She was on her own. I've survived officer's candidacy school, she thought, I can do this, too. Easy to think, but as the thick substance caressed her belly and began to engulf her breasts, it was hard to formulate a plan. Was she some type of sacrifice? The “other” was totally incommunicado. Cheftu continued his prayers, and Anubis and Sekhmet produced sistrum and flute and began to play, the rhythms uneven but moving.

  What the hell am I supposed to do!

  The mud—at least that's what she thought it was—seeped around her shoulders, cradling her body in a lover's embrace as she stopped sinking and began floating. It was warm and soft, the texture of the London Ritz's whipping cream. When it became obvious this was all there was to it, Chloe began to relax. If I were at Elizabeth Arden's, she thought, this would cost a cool fortune. Her head felt very light as she leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. It was painted with stars and a depiction of Nuit, the goddess of night, swallowing the sun god Ra and birthing him every morning. Across one of the walls was a drawing of stick figures, each a representation of a god of the hour. She was surprised to see her own name—but then again, it did mean the astrological time of eleven o'clock.

  As her vision grazed the hieroglyphs and drawings, she saw something that made her want to move to the edge of the pool. She couldn't move directly across—it was like walking in slow motion—but when she relaxed completely, her legs floated up and she could drift on the first level of the mud, pulling forward with her hands. In the far corner was her name again and then a doorway that opened up to the hieroglyph “Otherworld.” Adrenaline pounded through her veins as Chloe squinted up to see the drawing above the doorway. She laid her head back in disappointment: only another bunch of stars.

  Underneath it was what looked like a formula of some sort. It was a procession of alterations to her name: RaEmhetepet, ReEmHetp-Ra, mes-hru-mesat Hru Naur RaEm Phamenoth, Aab-tPtah … She translated. “Eleven o'clock in the evening, twenty-three after sun, natal day twenty-three times three, in the course of Ptah in the east …” But it was unfinished. Forgetting where she was, Chloe reached the edge of the pool, planted her muddy hands on the inlaid rim, and tried to lift herself. The mud sucked at her body and she gritted her teeth, using every ounce of strength left in her unexercised physique. Once past her hips, like a cork released from a bottle, she popped out.

  She padded toward the corner, the mud on her body dripping a path, as she tried to see the other glyphs that time had erased. Cheftu's shout alerted her, and she turned. Anubis and Sekhmet were advancing with a linen towel stretched between them, their chanting loud and somewhat menacing. They wrapped her completely in it, not touching her once. Chloe was escorted over to Cheftu, who now knelt before the incense and appeared to be in a trance. Several of the torches had blown out and a mist of frankincense floated toward the ceiling. It was dark, weird, and alien.

  Chloe felt her heart thumping in her throat.

  She turned around, trying to read the rest of the sentence, something about “prayer … what? … in the twenty-third doorway at twenty-three of RaEmhetepet.” Chloe read it again quickly, committing the characters to memory—she'd have to figure it out later. Anubis grabbed her head and forced her to face Cheftu and now Sekhmet. Cheftu's stare was blank. The lioness goddess licked her lips, revealing a silver mouthpiece of extended incisors. Chloe backed up, but the solid body of Anubis held her still. Sekhmet held out her hand, and Chloe noticed it was beautiful, with long red painted nails, but when the woman turned it palm up to receive Chloe's hand, Chloe flinched. Sekhmet had the hieroglyphs of vengeance, fury, and justice painted on her wrist.

  Cheftu leaned forward to whisper in her ear, “Give them your arm, RaEm. They are only making you an amulet. It will not hurt for long.” He sounded tired and a little irritated. Chloe stuck out her arm and felt Cheftu seize her wrist, a linen glove on his hand so he wouldn't get muddy or wouldn't have to touch her, Chloe didn't know which. Sekhmet lowered her head and bit Chloe's wrist, tearing the flesh horizontally. Chloe was instantly dizzy as she watched her blood well, then rush out, the pressure of Anubis’ hands on her shoulders and upper arms helping to quickly fill a shallow clay pot.

  Cheftu wrapped her wrist with linen, and Chloe closed her eyes, trying to regain her equilibrium. It didn't hurt. Yet. The bizarre threesome led her to the altar, where Cheftu mixed her blood with mud from the pool. He sealed the mixture inside a scarab mold and laid it on the edge of the incense table. The “gods” had vanished. Chloe put a hand to her forehead. Still dizzy.

  “My lady,” Cheftu said, indicating a partitioned area, “go wash and re-dress. We have one more ritual.” Chloe stumbled behind the partition and found her gown laid neatly across a basket. There was nothing on which to sit so she leaned against the wall for a moment. All the frankincense was giving her a headache. She didn't see any water but discovered as she toweled off that the greasy frankincense ointment made the mud come off easily.

  She dressed in her robe and necklace again, missing underwear for the first time in several days. Actually, at this moment she missed everything about her world. Even The Simpsons.

  The last part was easy. She drank some murky water while a priest dressed in red with mud stripes on his face tied the blood-mud scarab around her bandaged wrist. Then they left, stepping into the cool night. Chloe breathed deeply of the fresh air, scented with the smell of growing things, and accepted Cheftu's hand into the litter. Her wrist was beginning to throb, in time to the headache between her eyes. Why did they shave my head? Chloe thought morosely as she nodded off to sleep.

  Hands helped her inside the house and up the stairs. Others
laid her in the fresh sheets, rewrapped her bandage, and left her alone.

  Chloe's first thought in the morning was that it would take forever to grow her hair out. Awakened and dressed before first light, she appreciated the slave rubbing a salve onto her arm and placing a cloth headdress on her head. With some makeup she would feel almost human again.

  They left Noph, pulling away from the sleeping city as the golden-tinted fingers of Ra caressed Egypt with life and light.

  When she was finally alone, Chloe wrote down the words for the formula. What did it mean? Her fingers drifted from time to time to the scarab on her wrist. It had been baked almost black, but the lines that showed the shape of the beetle had been painted green, the wings red and the rest left black. A silken cord attached at the head and tail, kept it tied flatly against her wrist. She still smelled like frankincense, and her hair had grown like shaving stubble, overnight. Never again, she vowed would they chop off her hair.

  Period.

  She walked on deck after lunch, the sun warming her back through her simple linen shift. She wore a headcloth, held in place by a circlet representing her office, and had ringed her eyes with kohl against the sun. The river grew more crowded the closer they drew to the Great Green. Cheftu was seated on the port side before a table and appeared to be drawing. The young bearded slave they had picked up in Noph sat beside him, shuffling through a stack of scrolls as if he were looking for something. Two humps appeared on the western horizon, and Chloe walked to the port side.

  Cheftu looked up at her in surprise. “My lady! Can you speak?” She shook her head no and then opened her mouth for a demonstration. Cheftu's glance dropped momentarily to the amulet on her wrist, and he said “I see. Maybe tomorrow.”

  She agreed and pointed to the growing shapes behind him. He looked “The Pyramids. Surely you have seen them?”

  Chloe tried to hide her excitement. The Pyramids! Finally something she recognized from her world! She shook her head no. Two trips to Cairo and she'd seen them only from a distance. Someday she wanted to climb them.

  Cheftu watched her, frowning slightly: “I thought Makab took you after your parents flew to Osiris?”

  She shook her head vehemently. Maybe he had taken RaEm, but it was nowhere in the “other's” memory. Cheftu smiled a real smile, his golden eyes light and his teeth white against his dark face. “I take it from your barely restrained enthusiasm that you would like to visit them?”

  She nodded emphatically, smiling for the first time in days.

  He chuckled “Always full of surprises, my lady. We have no litter, so we'll have to walk. I think the avenue from the river is still fairly easy going. Shall we see Ra die tonight from the apex?”

  Her smile said it all.

  “Then you must rest this afternoon, my lady.”

  Chloe smiled again and practically skipped back to her room. If only there were some way to take her notebook! She looked through her collection of custom-made sandals and picked the sturdiest ones, checked that she had a kilt, shirt, and cloak, and lay down, waiting until twilight.

  She awoke periodically during the afternoon, her excitement making it difficult to sleep. Finally she saw long shadows and rose to dress. Cheftu met her at the stern, his young Apiru slave and two other rekkit beside him. His amber glance assessed her, and he smiled. “Are you ready, my lady?” She smiled and nodded as Cheftu looked at her a moment longer. “Then let's be off.”

  Seti had anchored them at an old dock, and they walked easily down it and onto the land. Chloe could see the remnants of an avenue that had been wide and sphinx lined but was already worn from more than a thousand years of use. The Pyramids grew before them, their tops puncturing the night sky. Their limestone casings were chipped. Cheftu explained they'd once been tipped in gold before the Hyksos had raided them.

  It felt good to move again, Chloe thought Her muscles were already sore and she thrived on the ache. She was living life, not just drawing it! Chloe matched her stride to Cheftu's, the slaves trailing behind. The sphinx was almost completely buried, only its eyes, still painted, and forehead visible above the sand. Cheftu was strangely quiet until they stood before the Great Pyramid, its name even in this antiquated time.

  As detailed and exquisite as Karnak was, this Pyramid was a counterpoise of grandeur and majesty. Chloe craned her neck to see the top. The rocks she'd always imagined as stair steps were actually taller than she was. Chloe stood in silence, staring up with wonder. It was a few minutes before she noticed Cheftu was no longer looking at the masterpiece of ancient engineering, but staring at her.

  “Amazing, is it not,” he said, gesturing to the building. “Legend says it took twenty years to build, though I know not how. Would you like to climb it?” Chloe indicated the enormous height of the rocks, and Cheftu chuckled. “Not from here. The limestone is unscalable. It was one of Cheops’ protective measures. On the other side are steps. Some ancient Nophite pharaoh used to come up here to think, so he had steps cut into the rock. However, it is still quite a climb.” She gestured for him to lead the way, and they began to walk around the base. Chloe was amazed at the total absence of life around them. There wasn't a village, a field, or even an ancient tourist booth. They were alone.

  The slaves followed at a distance, carrying torches and a large basket that Chloe hoped held dinner. After a fifteen-minute walk, they reached the other side. The moon had risen and the stars were out, casting their light on the moonlike surface of the shifting sands.

  Cheftu found the steps and guided her to them. “Go before us, and be careful. These steps are hundreds of years old and slippery. I will be here to catch you if you trip, so do not worry.” Who is going to catch you? Chloe thought, but she began to climb. Though the steps were normal size, years and countless feet had worn them down so that each step dipped in the middle. About a third of the way up her lungs began to burn, Cheftu noticed and called a break.

  Each climber settled against the larger stones, looking across the endless desert, the miles of undulating silver sand. When Chloe regained her bream she started off again, Cheftu close behind. Her feet began to blister in the sandals, and she thought wistfully of a decent pair of boots, but when she looked up into the limitless, starry night, she forgot about her feet, the time-travel conundrum—everything except this majesty.

  Chloe was sweating when she finally placed her trembling foot on the top.

  The top of the world!

  The wind was fierce, whipping at her headcloth and chilling the moisture on her face. When the Hyksos had taken the gold-covered top, it had flattened the Pyramid, leaving a plateau the size of her Dallas flat. She walked to the eastern side, overlooking the Nile. It stretched as far as the eye could see, a filament of black-and-silver light, weaving Upper and Lower Egypt into one of the greatest civilizations the world would ever know.

  There were no lights, except the pinpricks she could see on their small craft far below. It was so barren. They were alone under this enormous expanse of silver-spangled sky. Cheftu's voice came to her on the wind, offering food and warmth.

  The slaves had formed a shelter and heated wine. Chloe sat down inside it, next to Cheftu, enjoying the lack of wind, and stared up at the sky. She didn't recognize many of the constellations and couldn't ask Cheftu what they were. He handed her a cup of warmed wine and the predecessor to a pita-bread sandwich. She bit into it hungrily, crunching the goat cheese and cucumbers as she relaxed against the ancient stone.

  They were blocked from the slaves’ view by the shelter, and the intimacy of their position poured through her veins. Chloe was preternaturally aware of Cheftu's deep breathing, the way his long fingers moved as he spoke, as he gestured toward the sky and drew pictures in the air to illustrate his stories. Silvery light touched his body, gilding its hard smoothness, and the spicy warmth of his skin enticed her. Chloe gulped. Moonlight madness, that's all she was feeling. Besides, she had no hair! What kind of man would be interested in a bald woman?

>   However, in these moments she glimpsed what might have been between them … between Cheftu and RaEm. No telling what kind of kheft he'd think her if she told the truth. If she could tell him the truth.

  He pointed, resting his cloth-covered head next to hers. “That is the star of RaShera,” he said, pointing to Venus. “There is the constellation of the thigh of Apis.” Chloe looked long and hard but couldn't make out how they had perceived a bull's thigh in the night sky. Of course, it wasn't any more difficult to imagine than Cassiopeia in her chair, but Chloe always had a hard time with that one, too.

  “It astonishes me how, no matter where we may travel away from the red and black lands of Kemt, there are always our gods in the sky,” Cheftu said, his velvety voice raw from the wind. “When we were returning from Punt, sometimes the trip would seem so long and the people so foreign, it was a comfort to look in the sky and know Ma'at was maintained.”

  She looked at him in surprise. Cheftu had gone on that fabled journey to Punt? The trip that Hatshepsut had considered the ultimate feat of her reign? She longed to ask him more.

  “You did not know I had traveled, RaEm?”

  She shook her head no.

  He smiled bitterly. “I should not be surprised, should I,” he said to himself. “Assst, well. In Assyria they have ziggurats. They are like the first Pyramids we ever built. They sacrifice animals to their gods and draw their attention by cutting themselves. They have very bloodthirsty gods. Then in the Far East, the people are very small and dark. They stick needles in you to relieve pain.” He chuckled. “It works, but I cannot see any Egyptian standing for such treatment.

  “In the islands of the Great Green, young men and women vault over bull horns as a worship to their gods. The women wear many-layered dresses, but leave their breasts uncovered. Stories say there used to be a great empire, its power stretching across the sea. However, they got greedy and their gods have almost destroyed them twice by raining fire.” He sighed. “No matter where one goes, though, the sky is the same, Ra is born and dies every day and night. The stars dance on Nuit's skin in every country.” He sat in silence, his eyes as dark as the night above them. “There is HatHor,” he said, pointing. “It is almost her season.”