Awoken, page 14
“And you and I would be doomed to rule over these lands and their people, arbitrating disputes, maintaining peace, repairing the world after natural disasters. All the things you find tedious, never-ending, and thankless. More Isis-like characters would arise, possibly those who couldn’t actually keep hold of the lands and maintain a real peace. More wars would need to be fought.”
“It never ends,” I say. “And I can’t decide whether it’s more noble to hide away and let the world rule itself, or to stay and bear up under the onslaught of injustice and greed and suffering.”
Dad’s smile is kind. “You’ve been here for the ruling and weighing and suffering part. Let’s see this through and we can decide whether we like living a quiet life. In all the years I’ve been alive, that’s one thing I’ve never attempted.”
“If we can even pull it off,” I grumble. “What exactly makes you think Isis is suspicious?”
“You know that I have spies everywhere,” Dad says. “They report that Isis is looking for ulterior motives for my allowing Apophis to advance. She’s searching for a trap.”
“Well, there isn’t one,” I say. “So she can search as much as she’d like.”
“You and I know that,” Dad says, “but often, you find what you’re looking for. You remember all the people who died after she finally assassinated her husband.” He shakes his head. “Landing Philip was quite the prize, but he wasn’t a very faithful or engaging spouse. And after he died, with rumors that Alexander wasn’t really Philip’s heir . . . ”
“How could he possibly have believed that a full-grown man whom Isis brought with her was his heir?” I shake my head. “It makes no sense.”
Dad laughs. “In this instance, it was actually true. He was her lover when she wound up pregnant. He was a powerful Lifter, and quite handsome. It has been some time since they were together, although I hear they’re on again and off again, but she made up with him, convinced him to take them back, and used her powers to make Apophis much younger, an early teenager, so that his people would accept Apophis too. It helped that she boosted her brother to the rank of king of Epirus. That’s also where she got the name Alexander.”
“She re-named Apophis after her own brother?” I shake my head. “The more I learn about her, the crazier this woman sounds.”
Dad laughs. “I hope you never have cause to learn for yourself.”
Which reminds me that Isis convinced Mother to join her. She must be quite smooth-tongued. “What can we do to allay her suspicions?”
“She puts great weight in signs from heaven, in omens, if you will,” Dad says. “Our best bet would be to convince her that something points toward Apophis’ greatness and power only growing. She needs to believe that his great success is somehow foreordained. Then she’ll stop worrying that we’re trying to lure him toward us and believe what she’s wanted to believe all along—that she’s destined to defeat me.”
It takes about three hours, but Dad and I manage to come up with an existing legend that lies mostly in the path Apophis’ army is headed that we could use to our advantage. “That means that someone needs to lure him to Gordion,” Dad says. “I’ll summon Ptah—”
I shake my head. “That’s a terrible idea. You said that Isis and Apophis know your Lieutenants by sight. You can’t send one of them. It’ll never work. Besides, if we bring one of them in on it, then our plan will spread. You said I can’t even tell Shu—we can’t tell anyone else without telling him first.”
“What would you have me do, then?” Dad asks. “Perhaps I could write—”
“I’ll go.” It’s simple, it’s clean, it’s efficient. “No one knows my face.”
“Your mother does.” Dad shoves away from the table. “It’s too dangerous, and you’re the one person whose safety I won’t risk.”
A roar rips itself out of my throat, so loud that part of me must have shifted. “You think everything is too dangerous. But I’m a supra alpha who can Call Fire, who Lifts, and who can siphon from a distance. Who exactly is going to harm me?”
“I don’t want your identity to become public knowledge.”
“Good,” I say. “Neither do I. I’m not planning to go as myself, or wear a shirt that says, ‘Princess of Egypt.’”
Dad laughs. “But—”
“No buts. I’m perfect for this one small thing—to lure Alexander’s army to Gordion and make sure he can untie the impossible knot, foreordaining him to become king of all Asia.”
“How will you do it?”
“By spreading the tiny, little-known fable until he hears it from all sides, of course.” I smile. I’ve always loved telling stories, and this might be the most exciting one I’ve ever told. And for once, I’ll be out in the world, helping. It’s the reason I’m most excited about a small life—a life where I’m not confined to a palace or followed incessantly by guards.
“You’ll take Am-Heh,” he says.
I roll my eyes. “I may as well take a group of fifty heralds, all proclaiming my identity.”
“Fine, who do you want to take?” Dad pins me with a glare. “You can’t go alone. Everyone needs someone to watch their back.”
“I’ll take Shu.”
Dad’s mouth drops open in a very satisfying way. “Apophis would recognize him. He accompanied your mother on several trips to Macedonia. How about Anat?”
She could probably go alone. She can make herself look like most anyone. Although, she’s taught me that trick, so I suppose I can, too. But if she goes, I won’t need to do anything. Dad will think of that in about three seconds and I’ll be stuck here, listening to reports and sitting on my hands again.
“I could go with Ptah.”
“You could,” Dad says. “Sure.”
He agreed to that far too quickly.
I just knew he was behind Ptah proposing.
Ever since I turned him down, Dad’s been very cagey about the whole thing. I’m not actually excited about the prospect of dragging him along with me, but I know he’s the least conspicuous companion Dad might accept. If only because he’s still hoping I’ll change my mind and decide Ptah makes my heart race. Blech.
“We’ll leave in the morning,” I say.
“You can stop in outlying areas, starting rumors and reminding them of the old legends and stories—but you’ll need to start no closer than Phoenicia or someone might recognize you.”
“I’d better prepare my trunks,” I say. “I’ll need a convincing disguise.” I can’t stop myself from poking fun at Ptah and Dad for thinking we’d be a good match. “I know exactly what our story should be!”
Dad sighs.
Clearly I tipped him off—he must have heard something in my tone. “We could tell everyone that we’re a father and daughter—no one will question our traveling in close quarters, and that makes the most sense given our age gap, don’t you think?”
He rolls his eyes. If he hadn’t recently magicked Ptah to be so young that he looked my age, it would have worked perfectly. As if I’d suddenly believe that he actually was my age just because he looks younger. “That won’t work.”
“Alright, I suppose we can tell people he’s my brother.”
“I suppose you can at that,” Dad agrees. “But what will we tell Ptah, so that he doesn’t suspect our real purpose?”
“We tell him that we’re planning to ensure that Apophis fails at untying the knot.” I’m rather proud of that lie. “Then when he does it, even we can seem shocked and concerned.”
“You grow cleverer every day.” Dad hugs me.
“I’m going to miss you.” I mean it.
“We’ve never been apart for quite so long.” When he releases me and steps back, his eyes are sad.
“Are you going to cry?” I’m teasing him to keep from bawling myself.
His voice is thick. “Would you be embarrassed if I did?”
“You’ve spent the last twenty-four years training me in everything—one day you’ll have to actually send me to do something on my own.”
“You can’t blame a father for being protective of his most precious miracle.”
No, he’s right. I can’t. I love him for it. “I’ll plant the seeds that draw Apophis to Gordion, and then I’ll make sure the dolt actually solves the infernal knot, so that his mother will believe he’s foreordained to destroy us. I’ll do it in a way that ensures no one knows who I am or what I can do.” I smirk. “I’ll be so sneaky and so devious that I’ll make you proud, I swear it.”
“You make me proud every single moment of every single day.” When he hugs me, I almost cave and suggest that Anat can go in my place. But one day I have to leave and do something on my own—one day, I’ll have to be useful.
That day may as well be tomorrow.
13
Ancient Egypt
I think the most annoying thing about Ptah is his beard.
Mehen told me that when Dad grew a beard, most everyone in Egypt copied him, growing it long and curved. Ptah, perhaps in a bid to be different, grew his long . . . and straight. It dangles down from his chin like dripping wax.
Not a day has passed that I haven’t considered chopping it off while he sleeps.
But the second most annoying thing about him is how obsessed he is with architecture and stonework. “Yes,” I say. “That building sure is unique.”
“It’s also—”
“And it’s beautiful, yes,” I say. I can’t understand why he needs me to agree with him, that every single new building is a treasure.
It’s also a complete lie. This temple looks exactly like the twenty-five other stone temples we’ve passed in Phrygia.
“The lines are so clean.” He runs his hand down the side once we’re close enough. “They clearly had a gifted Lifter, to slice the stone like that, right along an existing fault line. Look—they didn’t even need mortar on this joint.”
“You appreciate stonework?” A tall man with a heavy bag slung over his shoulder peeks his head around the corner of the temple.
Ptah straightens his broad shoulders. “I do. It may be my favorite branch of study.”
“There’s to be a conference of stonemasons this afternoon.” The man drops his bag. “It’s not far from here, actually. I’m planning on going with a friend of mine. You’d be welcome to join us. I hear there’s to be a presentation on the benefits of the various stone types, including those brought on great barges from the other side of the Black Sea.”
Of course that puts a glint in Ptah’s eye. “You don’t say.”
“No,” I whisper. Not another side trip. Not another single one, especially not to debate the merits of rocks.
“Where will the conference be meeting?” He glances toward me. “It would be a diverse group of people from several places, I’m sure.” He raises his eyebrows, as if I don’t already get his point.
We’ve disseminated the story to enough places. Apophis’ army is already on the move. “We’re in a hurry,” I say. “We probably shouldn’t delay.”
“Your wife is quite a fiery one,” the tall man says. “I hope you can manage her.”
“Oh, I can,” Ptah says, just as I say, “I’m not his wife. I’m his sister.” My nostrils flare. I’ve regretted agreeing to take Ptah with me since the very day we left.
“It would be a pity to miss the conference.” Ptah looks back at me. “I think we can spare one day.”
I grit my teeth. No woman in this region would gainsay her brother, but I’m considering all the ways I could tie him up in a bag and drag him the rest of the way to Gordion. I could tell other travelers I pass that he’s a side of lamb . . .
“Why don’t you go to your little meeting of builders or whatever,” a deep voice says, “and I’ll keep our sister safe.” Shu’s voice carries from where our horses are tied across the courtyard.
My mouth curls up into a smile.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” Ptah says.
“Did you want to learn about new kinds of rocks?” Shu lifts both eyebrows. “Or did I misunderstand? Maybe you weren’t giddy with joy at the mere mention.”
I’ve missed Shu’s smirk more than anything else. “Yes, do stay for the meeting,” I say. “My other brother will take great care of me, and we can all leave together when you’re finished.”
Ptah’s eyes narrow and I worry he’ll beg off, or order us both to go with him, but his excitement over new building supplies wins out over his sense of duty.
“I can’t tell you how delighted I am to see the back of him,” I say, as soon as Ptah’s stupid long beard is out of sight. “He’s even worse away from the palace.”
“Why in the world would Father support him as a good match for you?” Shu whistles. “You’d kill him inside of a year.”
I laugh. “Maybe inside of a month. I was thinking of ways to tie him up and stuff him in a bag when you showed up.”
“Why don’t we ditch him and head for Gordion without him?” Shu tosses his head at the horses. “I brought Killian, so we can even race there. I hear it’s less than a day’s ride. Surely at this point, all you need to do is make sure that the knot can’t be solved. Put some magic spell on it or something? The last thing we need right now is for Apophis to get more confidence, after all.”
“The next part is simple,” I say, “but Dad didn’t want to risk having you anywhere near Apophis, in case Mother or Isis were around and recognized you.”
Shu rolls his eyes. “So change my appearance a bit. Anat does it all the time. I’m sure she’s taught you the basics.”
I freeze. “The simplest forms, sure, but what if I can’t get your nose right again afterward? It’s complicated—you put the energy on like a mask, but the longer it sits in place, the harder it is to remove.”
He shrugs. “I’ve never loved my nose. It’s a little on the beaky side. I’m okay with the risk.”
I shove him. “I love your nose just as it is.” But I can’t take him with me. Not to Gordion. He’d be sure to notice that I’m helping Apophis solve the knot, not making it harder.
“Oh, come on.” Shu spreads his arms and spins in a circle. “We’re out in the world, doing something, together for once. Don’t you love it?” He beams at me. “I didn’t think Dad would ever let you out of his sight.”
“He’s not that bad, and I like being with him. I like being at home.”
“You do?” He purses his lips.
“Of course I do. You don’t?”
Shu shrugs. “I do, yeah. I love you, and I love him, but it’s kind of boring, just handling all the administrative stuff and putting down rebellions. Give it a few decades and you’ll probably feel the same.”
I can’t ditch him, and I can’t keep lying to him. Not anymore. Not when he just wants to be with me. I have to tell him the truth. “So . . . I’m actually not here to make sure Apophis can’t solve the dumb Gordian knot.”
Shu blinks. “Then why are you here?”
“Well, the reason we chose this legend—”
“Remind me what the legend even says? Dad said Isis will never give up if Apophis unties some knot?”
“It’s actually a small story, native only to Phrygia, but Dad and I are using it because, well, there was this oracle in the capital of Lycia, right? Their king had died without leaving an heir. No one could agree who should ascend the throne—in fact, there were about five warring factions. They had gathered outside the city and were supposed to be fighting to the death. Until the oracle predicted that the next person to pass through the city gates on wheels would be their new king, an epic king, bringing blessings to all the citizens of Phrygia. Everyone was sick of fighting, and they were expecting one of the five main warriors, probably in a chariot.”
Shu sits on the bench outside the temple. “But it wasn’t one of them?”
I shake my head. “No, it was a relatively weak guy, not even a soldier. He was Earth Called, in fact. But apparently the heads of each of the warring divisions had killed one another—the last one dying from blood loss. No Healers deemed them worthy of their time and expertise, they were so bloodthirsty.”
“You’re kidding. So a random farmer became their new king?”
“The people trusted the oracle, who had promised anointing him king would end the fighting and bring them prosperity.”
“That’s wild.” Shu shakes his head.
“Well, that farmer’s name was Gordias, and he ended up being a wonderful king. They named their capital city after him. He adjudicated disputes, tended and nurtured, and figured out how to make sure they always had enough food for every one of the subjects. They adored him. His son was a pretty decent king too—also Earth Called, but you’ll probably remember his name. Midas.”
“Everything he touched turned to gold?” Shu frowns. “Is that right?”
“Not exactly. He had an affinity for heavy metal detection, though, and they found quite a few gold mines within their national boundaries, increasing the wealth of the nation quite substantially.”
“What does that have to do with—”
“I’m getting there. Geez.”
“Get there faster,” Shu says. “Or I’ll change my mind and decide you’re perfect for boring old Ptah.”
I swat his arm. “You’d have to shut your mouth for me to do any better. As I was saying, Gordias came on a wagon. And the people loved that about him. Years after he became king, after he was a beloved figure, that old wagon that he rode in on, the one that landed him the throne, was wheeled out into the central square of the city and tied to a huge post he had erected there, next to a statue.”
“A statue of the farmer?”
I shake my head. “No, a pillar that had the values of their entire country carved into it. At the base, it had images of life itself—crops, the sun, the rain. As the carvings wrapped their way up the pillar, there were images of the boundaries of the nation, and at the top, it had scales for justice, and bowls of figs and dates and bread, to symbolize their bounty. He said that as he had conquered by cultivating, so too would another come one day. Instead of rolling in on a chariot, someone intelligent, someone strong, and someone clever would come. Gordias said that person, the one who could untie the knot that he had employed all his smartest advisors to create, would go on to rule Asia in the same way he had ruled Phrygia. Surprisingly, adeptly, and with great success and prosperity for all the citizens.”
