Eat! Drink! Be merry!
For tomorrow we shall die!
—Imhotep, Third Dynasty architect
It took Gillian two days of feigned resignation, lying through her teeth, and carefully planned subterfuge to find what she was looking for.
A way to escape.
She was carefully examining the yellowed-parchment floor plan of Khepesh that she’d managed to excavate from a long-untouched shelf in the stacks of the library. She hadn’t had much time for searching because Nephtys had kept her busy for hours studying the ritual she’d be performing in two days, memorizing the ancient words of magic spells she’d need for her life in Khepesh, then each evening testing her memory on what she’d learned. Worse, the library was arranged in a totally foreign system handed down since the dawn of writing, based on the hieroglyphic alphabet—which of course wasn’t really an alphabet at all, but ideograms.
Good grief. Who would have thought those impromptu childhood lessons by the precocious ten-year-old Josslyn, conducted in sidewalk chalk in front of their Hyde Park Chicago home, would pay off in such unexpected and lifesaving ways? Her sister would be pleased.
A pang of homesickness stabbed through Gillian, and she wondered what her sisters were doing now. Did they miss her terribly? Or had Rhys really put a spell on them so they had never questioned her disappearance? She almost hoped he had. She didn’t like to think of the sorrow she might be putting them through.
Which was exactly why she was doing this.
Of course, she’d been shouldering her own share of sorrow these last two days. Rhys had avoided her completely since the welcome feast. Which was a good thing. Really, it was. If he hadn’t been making sure their paths didn’t cross, she’d have been the one doing it. As much as she longed to see him, his death or banishment was too high a price to pay for continuing a relationship doomed to end in grief.
Brushing aside forlorn thoughts of those she loved, she concentrated hard and studied the parchment floor plan, looking for remnants of the traditional Old Kingdom tomb architecture that had to be hidden somewhere within the rabbit warren of Khepesh’s rooms. The yellowed-parchment plan was so old, even she recognized that big bits of the current palace were missing from the drawing. No doubt, the palace had been expanded and remodeled countless times over the five millennia of its existence.
She just needed to find the original tomb of Seth-Aziz. The one she’d discovered in the side of the cliff that day with Mehmet and Dawar. A day that seemed a lifetime ago.
She knew there was no possible way she could escape through the monumental silver double doors of the Great Western Gate, through which she’d come with Rhys. But if she found the inside of the old, abandoned tomb, maybe, just maybe, she could find the hidden sliding-stone passageway and slip out through it unnoticed.
She had to try.
Her eye caught on something the drawing revealed that she hadn’t expected. “Oh, wow,” she exclaimed softly. “Secret passages!”
She’d had enough experience as a child traipsing after her father on his digs and surveys that she had no doubt about what she was seeing. Like the hidden sliding-block mechanism she’d discovered, secret passageways were also a rare but telling architectural feature during the Ptolemaic period. Eagerly, she sought out the revealing narrow lines that marked their routes through the palace. Khepesh seemed to have its fair share, connecting the various wings in a concealed network that hinted at clandestine meetings and illicit affairs. There were even two passages that ended inside the temple compound close to her own rooms.
But her excitement deflated as she realized not one of the hidden passageways led to the outside world. She’d have to stick to her original plan. The old tomb with its sliding-stone entrance was her only chance.
Not to flee Khepesh. No, she had come to accept that her life as she’d once known it was over. Even if she managed to get far, far away, Seth would surely find her and bring her back. Or kill her. Of that, there was no doubt whatsoever. She knew too much. The secrets of the per netjer were too precious to risk her spilling them to the outside world.
She was not willing to die for their secrets—not a chance. Nor was she willing to be turned into a zombie. Her only real option was to go along with their plans and hope to change their minds about her at some point...preferably sooner than later.
Any other choice on her part would also spell the death of the man she loved. Totally unacceptable. She would suffer any pain, any sacrifice, to spare his life.
No, she had accepted her fate.
But she must get a message to her sisters. To tell them she was fine, and not to worry about her. But more important, to let them know their mother may still be alive and that Gillian was searching for her. That she’d get word to them somehow when she had more news.
All she needed was to slip out for an hour or two. Just long enough to find someone to deliver her note. Then she’d come back and face her fate as bravely as she could.
After all, there were far worse things than living a life of luxury as the wife of a vampire demigod.
Forever.
Weren’t there?
Suddenly, she peered closer at the parchment floor plan. Excitement flooded through her as she gazed at the original Old Kingdom tomb of Seth-Azis, tucked into a remote corner of the palace.
At last!
She’d found what she was looking for.
A way out.