by J. F. Penn
Rain pattered down as the Mapwalkers reached the bottom of the valley. By the time they made it to where Zoe thought the entrance would be, it poured down in sheets of wind that slammed against the rocks as if nature itself tried to stop their progress. They were all soaked through, dripping wet, cold and desperate to get under shelter.
They hurried to a pile of enormous blocks of stone, each one carved from the quarry and discarded here — or perhaps placed specifically to camouflage the entrance. Zoe relaxed her gaze and once again, saw the golden thread weaving its way through.
“This is definitely it.”
Perry frowned. “How do we get inside? There’s no way we can move these blocks ourselves.”
Sienna placed her hands on the stone pile. “Now we’re here, I can draw a map and take us inside.”
Mila shook her head. “No need. But you all need to stand way back if I’m going to do this.”
The others walked up and away from the entrance, high enough to be out of range but still close enough to see. Zoe’s skin tingled with the cold of the rain but also with the anticipation of what might happen, of the thrill of being here with the Mapwalker team.
As the storm raged above them, Mila lifted her hands, then her face to the rain. Her clothes were soaked through and it was as if her skin underneath became one with the water. Mila reached for the deluge and brought it down in a torrent, using it to sweep under one of the heavy stone blocks and move it to the side of the entrance, lifting and floating it away as if on flood waters. She directed the rain as a symphony, sweeping it down from the heavens above and swirling the rocks away from the entrance. Mila’s face rippled with joy as the surge washed around her. This was her element, and Zoe felt a sense of privilege to see the Waterwalker so transformed. Would she ever be that confident in her magic?
Once she had uncovered the entrance, Mila swirled the water away from the quarry floor, pinning her flood behind the barrier of rocks now placed like a dam to one side. But it didn’t stop the rainfall that still poured down upon them, trickling down into the revealed mouth of the complex below.
Mila beckoned, and the team jogged back down to the entrance. “Let’s get inside, then I’ll seal it up behind us with some rocks. We don’t want a flood following us down there.”
Zoe stepped inside the rough-hewn tunnel, chisel marks still visible in the stone overhead. It was just big enough for them to walk upright, although Perry’s head almost touched the ceiling. As they descended, torches in hand, she wondered about the forgotten people who had dug this place, whether they had died here, their bones becoming part of history.
As they rounded a corner out of sight of the entrance, Mila dropped back and a moment later, a resounding crash echoed through the tunnel. Flakes of rock dropped from the ceiling from thin fissures above that seemed to widen as they watched. Zoe held her breath, aware of the tons of rock above, suddenly conscious that they were now barricaded in an ancient tomb, their only way out now blocked by impenetrable slabs of stone. There was no turning back.
A thin stream of water trickled down the tunnel as Mila rounded the corner once more, her footsteps a little weary as the magic took its toll. But Zoe could see that the tattooed Waterwalker welcomed the price for the joy it gave her in the moment.
As the team came together again, Perry led them on. “Let’s see what’s down here.”
He walked on with confident steps as the tunnel wound down into the earth. Zoe recalled that the chambers of the complex were several stories down, so they were probably entering from one of the side tunnels. Etchings marked the walls of the corridor and occasionally, a few crude paintings, but nothing of the skill or importance of the art in the Valley of the Kings. These were only rudimentary slashes and fragments of curses that Zoe recognized from funerary texts. Nothing remarkable. Could this really be the right place?
They turned a last corner and Perry stopped in surprise; the others halting quickly behind him.
The tunnel ended in a low doorway, a crawl space into blackness beyond. Above it, an ancient god looked down upon them with eyes of deep blue lapis lazuli, its hideous features a dire warning. The head of a Nile river crocodile, jagged teeth dripping with blood, its forelegs the powerful body of a lion and its rear, the thick hide of a hippopotamus. It was carved into the rock and outlined in precious stones, surrounded by curses etched deep into stone.
“Ammit, devourer of the dead,” Zoe whispered. “Made up of the three dread creatures the Egyptians feared the most. He eats the hearts of the impure if they are weighed and found wanting.”
Mila bent down and shone her torch into the black hole. “And we’re meant to crawl into this?” She looked up at Zoe. “Are you sure this is the right way?”
Sienna stepped forward. “It’s the Map of the Impossible, it’s not going to be a walk in the park, is it?” She pointed up to a series of hieroglyphics. “I recognize these from my grandfather’s journal. This has to be the right way.”
She bent down and crawled into the dark, the light from her torch vanishing quickly. Zoe held her breath, part of her expecting to hear a scream, a crash, a moan.
A moment later, Sienna’s excited voice came echoing back. “You guys need to come and see this.”
9
It was a relief to get away from the image of the devouring god and out of the constricting tunnel. The vault stretched away into the shadows, the far end out of sight, but the echo of their voices showed how large the space was. Perry stood up, looking around as Mila and Zoe brushed dust from their clothes. His gaze lingered on the restorer for a moment. Something about her made him want to know more. Perhaps this mission would give him the opportunity.
Sienna stood shining her torchlight ahead. “What is this place?”
Her words were clearly directed at Zoe, the only one of them who knew much about ancient Egypt, but Perry couldn’t help but feel it was a broader question. They had thought this was some kind of entrance to the Borderlands, perhaps a simple portal like the gate in the Circus at Bath, but this was far more than a doorway.
It was some kind of antechamber and bundles of cloth covered every inch of the floor, discolored with age, dirty yellow-brown wrappings around a bulbous center.
“What are they?” Perry nudged one with his toe, grimacing as it rolled heavily to the side, crunching on a layer of loose stones beneath. “Ugh. There’s definitely something in there.”
He shivered a little, trying not to imagine what lay inside.
Zoe bent to look at the bundle more closely. “The Egyptians mummified all kinds of creatures. Cats, crocodiles, mice and ibis amongst them.”
Mila shone her torch at the wall, illuminating paintings of hundreds of birds. Hooked bills like scythes, black eyes made of obsidian beads that flashed as the light touched them, as if they watched the intruders from centuries past.
“I guess they’re ibis, but why so many?”
Zoe pulled out a pen from her pack and used the end to prod at the mummified creature, trying to ease the wrappings aside. “There might be amulets here, evidence of what they represent. I’ve read of sacrificial chambers at Sakkara with thousands of dead ibis inside, offerings to Thoth—”
“God of wisdom, writing and magic,” Sienna finished for her.
Zoe looked up. “Yes, you know of him?”
“My grandfather’s journal contains much about Thoth, postulating that the priests who served him were some of the earliest Mapwalkers. Those who combined writing and magic, who created living worlds with their inscriptions — and their paintings.”
“Makes sense,” Perry said as he took a tentative step forward, trying not to tread on any of the shrouded bodies. “But whatever the reason, we have to get through this chamber. Let’s move on.”
He took another step, holding out his arms for balance as he gingerly tiptoed around the ancient corpses. The thought of the dust and bones and feathers and dried blood of millennia made him want to get out of there fast. The other
s gathered their things and followed in his footsteps.
A crunch as Perry stepped on more of the loose stones. These were larger chunks, and he rolled a little on his ankle. Steadying himself, he looked down, the light from his head-torch reflecting off … what was that? He bent down to look more closely and then stood up sharply. The others stopped at his alarm.
“Bones. Human, by the look of them.” He pointed down, not wanting to move for the unbearable crunch that would inevitably come.
Sienna crouched down and examined the detritus on the chamber floor. “You’re right. Human bones, dismembered. They have weird patterns on them, like tiny slashes. I wonder …” She looked up at the wall paintings where the ibis stood on the banks of the Nile, their beaks like scythes.
As she spoke, Perry saw a movement in the darkness near the wall, as if a shudder passed through one of the bundles. Mila saw it too and shone her light toward it, just as the mummies began to twitch and shake. Perry frowned, a moment of confusion before he realized what was happening.
The things inside were trying to get out.
“Move!” Mila shouted as the shuddering spread across the floor, the bundles rolling and lurching. The thud of bodies hitting each other and bumping against the walls echoed about the chamber as clouds of dust rose into the air.
The Mapwalkers ran through the field of mummified creatures, covering their mouths as they coughed, eyes streaming as dust obscured the way.
Perry led them on, no longer caring where his feet landed, relishing the crunch of bodies under his stride, each one a broken beast that could no longer emerge from the grave.
A cry behind him.
Perry stopped and spun round.
Zoe had slipped and fallen amongst the mummies. As he bent to help her up, he felt the sudden weight of bodies on his back, the slash of tiny knives on his skin. He jerked up and shook himself, seeing for the first time the horror that emerged from the dusty haze.
The remains of mummified ibis, dried flesh hanging from their skeletons, eyes coal black holes in elongated skulls and beaks like sickles, slashing back and forth. They shrieked together, high-pitched calls over guttural grunts, the volume growing as more escaped the bonds of their ancient wrapping.
Two more leapt for him.
Perry pushed Zoe behind his back, shielding her as he opened his palm and released his fire magic. The remains of the two creatures fell to the bone-covered floor. Almost immediately, the burned parts twitched and began to re-form into a semblance of a creature, parts of one subsumed into the other — a hybrid corpse.
Perry shuddered as he directed his flame down and finished it off, leaving only ash this time.
Sienna and Mila fought the creatures alongside, batting them away with torches and kicking the birds as they attacked from below. Zoe regained her balance and swung her pack like a mace, using it to beat the birds off.
Together, they could keep the ibis at bay for now … but they kept coming.
There were so many in the chamber, waves of shrieking dead birds with thousands more to be born anew from the bundles of wrapping that shuddered as the Mapwalkers progressed through the cave. They had to get out of here.
“Follow me!” Perry stepped past Zoe and sent his flame into the darkness ahead, burning a path through the writhing bundles, turning them to ash before they could even emerge. He turned and hurled balls of flame either side of Sienna and Mila, freeing them enough so they could follow.
Together, the four Mapwalkers darted through the tomb, beating back any birds that made it through, pursued by inhuman shrieks.
The end of the chamber emerged through smoke and dust. A solid wall painted with images of ibis slaughtering worshippers of Thoth, bloody limbs hacked from torsos, heads rolling as the birds overran the temple grounds. An avian massacre dedicated to the god who ruled them.
“How do we get out of here?” Sienna shouted above the din of screeches, pounding on the wall with her fists.
“There must be a way.” Zoe scanned the wall for anything that might help. “The priests of Thoth would have made a door. The god is often shown carrying an ankh symbol, the key to life. Look for that.”
Perry stepped in front of them, forming a barricade of fire to keep the birds away as the others scoured the wall, searching for a way out. He could feel the slow creep of shadow seeping into his veins as he blasted the enlivened carcasses, the stink of burned feathers and desiccated flesh filling his senses. This place drained more of him than it should. Something in the atmosphere seemed to deaden his very life force. They had not considered what might rule this place between the worlds, or the risk in crossing it. But it was too late to turn back.
“Hurry, I can’t keep this up for too much longer.”
Perry understood the price of his magic, and he accepted the risk, even knowing what his father had become. Sir Douglas was one of the great Shadow Cartographers, but Perry was still haunted by the image Sienna had painted of him on their return from the refugee camp on the last mission. She said he was closer to shadow than man now, his material self more inconsequential every day. Perry only wished to reach his father before the end — and have enough flame to finish the man himself.
A skittering noise broke through the roar of the inferno.
The clatter of skeletal feet.
The ibis surged over the barrier of flame, running up the walls and across the ceiling in some perversion of gravity, scything their beaks back and forth as they dive-bombed Perry.
He swung one hand above, burning them with a lance of fire as they dropped. A stinking rain of ash fell in their wake.
Perry retched as it filled his mouth and nose and eyes, chunks of stinking cadaver collecting around his feet. As the birds continued to advance in an unrelenting wave, Perry knew they would drown here in the dust of the dead in this god-forsaken place.
10
“Here!” Zoe shouted.
The clunk of levers and the sound of stone rasping over sand.
Perry surged his flame into the birds in a final blast of magic. As hands pulled him back into a dark cavity, he burned the last of the ibis, pushing them away as the door swung shut. He sank to the ground, retching and gagging as he spat out the remains of the dead creatures, the taste of the grave lingering in his mouth.
Perry explosively coughed up the last of the feathers, then sank back against the cool stone. “I really don’t want to go through that again.”
Sienna reached out and placed a finger on his lips, her eyes flashing a warning as she pointed into the chamber beyond.
They sat on a wide ledge above a gigantic cave, the cold of the rock and freezing air a welcome relief from the claustrophobic heat of the ibis chamber.
Mila shone her torchlight out over the expanse, illuminating a roiling, churning mass of serpents below, like an undulating sea. They were all different sizes and colors, writhing together, hissing and rattling at the disturbance above. The giant loop of a colossal snake rose from the mass, each black scale as tall as a man, the powerful musculature of its body pulsing as it moved, slithering beneath its kin. An ancient creature, formed from magic and nightmares.
“Apep,” Zoe whispered, her eyes wide. “The giant serpent, embodiment of chaos, sworn enemy of light and truth, devourer of souls.”
Perry slumped back against the wall and sighed. “Seriously?”
Sienna pulled her grandfather’s journal from her pack and opened it to the pages of hieroglyphics and sketches of the underworld path.
“Here.” She pointed to the hand-drawn map. “After the guardians of the gate, presumably the ibis, there is a path of snake charmers. A way through the chamber of serpents.”
Zoe pointed at the page. “This also says there is a high path, past the watchers. Perhaps that could be the better way?”
Mila turned her torch toward the ceiling of the chamber. Stalactites dripped from the roof of the cave, some sharp as a blade, others bulbous and curved. They glistened in the light as crystals
within flashed with colors of turquoise and emerald, opal and gold. Droplets of water ran down to splash on the serpents below.
Then the light caught what lay beyond and between the needles of rock. Leathery cocoons, over six feet in length, each hanging down over the space below. Each pulsing with life.
“The watchers,” Zoe whispered.
Mila thought of the winged statues she had seen in front of the sunken pyramid beneath Ganvié, a battalion of dark angels ready to fight. Could these cocoons be their resting place? She had wished to see such miraculous creatures in the flesh, but down here in the realm of the dead, that suddenly seemed like a bad idea.
Sienna shone her torchlight below the cocoons, following a scar in the wall, a narrow path between the serpents below and the unknown creatures above. “That way,” she said. “As quietly and as carefully as possible.”
Zoe saw the sense in Sienna’s choice, but it didn’t make it any less terrifying. The ledge curved around out of sight to the left of the cave, a precarious track, wet with dripping water. It looked slippery with only the rock to grasp onto and a precipitous drop to the pit of serpents below.
Perry’s magic could be useful if they needed to fight, but he looked exhausted, drained from the battle with the ibis. He struggled to stand, pulling himself up from the wall as they prepared to leave the safety of the ledge. Zoe wanted to reach out and help him up, but she turned away. Perhaps he didn’t want to be seen in a moment of weakness.
Mila had also used her magic recently, opening the tomb and controlling the flood, while Sienna had mapwalked them all here from the Ministry. Each of them weakened, drops of shadow pooling in their blood, while her own magic was but a faint glimmer, an almost useless gift.
For a moment, Zoe wished she were back in the calm, safe world of Antiquities, the smell of old books, ink and coffee with the occasional sound of a turning page. No reanimated corpses to fight, no ancient Egyptian nightmares to run from — but no miracles either, no friends with magic in their fingertips, no sense of wonder.