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Heliopolis was once a great city. The Egyptians called it Iunu, the Place of Pillars, because of its many, many temples that all orbited around the oldest and most magnificent of them all, the Per-Tem. In the common tongue, it meant the House of Atum, the form Father Ra takes in this part of the kingdom. For this is Lord Ra's home, which is why when Alexander galloped into its ancient streets with their rough brick walls he named it Heliopolis, the City of the Sun.
Even the name of the Per-Tem was for the benefit of foreigners, the Egyptians simply call it Per-Aat. The Great House. Its other temples were dedicated to the sun god's immediate family, the Ennead, Egypt's most powerful gods. His children, airy Shu and dewy Tefnut; his grandchildren, solid Geb and heavenly Nut; and his great-grandchildren, kingly Osiris and clever Isis, enigmatic Nephthys and my shadowy Lord Set. Though naturally, when Lord Horus began his meteoric rise, he too entered the sacred spaces of this city as an uncounted tenth god. He dwells as a child in the temples of his parents, and rules in the Per-Aat alongside his great-great-grandfather.
As the seat of the lord of all the gods of the Black Land, Heliopolis had been for much of its history a vast royal archive for the pharaohs and an unrivaled center of learning. It was said that Orpheus and Homer walked in its inner sanctums, and less fantastically, that Pythagoras and Plato had consulted with its philosophers and stargazers. When the first Ptolemies arrived in these parts, they traveled to Heliopolis to learn from the ancients how to rule this unruly land. They sat among the stone works of Ramses and they listened to the wisdom of the priests.
But eventually, the Ptolemies grew bored of Egyptian stories. Like the homesick armies of Alexander, they longed to be among the Greek world again. Heliopolis was too far away from the coast, too close to Memphis and its Egyptian-ness. Too full of the strange Egyptian gods and their beastly forms. So they gathered up the old archives, gutted the temple treasuries, and returned to the north, to the city that they had named in honor of their dead lord. Alexandria's rise came at the expense of Heliopolis, and the latter was eclipsed and forgotten by the wayward Ptolemies. The Place of Pillars began a long, embarrassing slide into decrepitude.
This was my sister’s thinking. No one would look for living Ptolemies in its ruined walls.
We entered Heliopolis and made our way to the Per-Aat through empty houses and neglected streets. Merchants half-heartedly tried to sell us animal mummies to offer at the temples, though one merchant's wife wailed at our party until Kharmion paid for an ibis mummy to quiet her. Listless children sat in many of the doorways and the old people sported contemptuous looks, as if we deserved their scorn for bothering to come to their city. Thebes and Memphis might hold proudly to the old ways, but Heliopolis had never recovered from the shame of being discarded by our House. I wondered if it was wise to show one's face as a Ptolemy here at all. Cities like this one have long memories for slights.
We dismounted before the still imposing stone pillars of the main temple, as Cleopatra and Apollodorus entered in search of the high priest. We waited in the baking sun as sweat soaked through the lower layers of my clothes. Eventually, even the camels sat down and rested their heads against the worn pillars. The horses twitched their withers and stamped their feet. The minutes trickled by until Kharmion made a huffing noise of impatience.
"I am going to find some supplies to load the bags with," she said sharply to me, shoving the ibis mummy into my arms. "Do not wander off!"
I watched her storm off back in the direction of the market and waited several beats. Mudjet slunk in front of the nearest shadowy recess between the buildings to block it from view of the soldiers and animal drivers, who were ignoring us anyway.
"Be careful, my lady," she whispered as I slipped behind her and off into the temple avenues.
I had no specific destination in mind as I weaved in and out of the pillar-lined halls and courtyards. I thought briefly of escape, losing myself in this dying city, maybe trying to claim sanctuary in one of the temples but I quickly dismissed such plans. How would I live here? Would I beg with a bowl in the streets where no one had any coin to give and no travelers passed? Could I become a slave to a precariously surviving household, eating less than nothing and waiting passively for death to claim me? Kharmion would be furious that I had disobeyed her. She chose always to forget that she and I were not equals, though I doubted my sister would be overly angry. She knew I was alone in this crumbling place, away from all I knew and at her mercy.
The temples of the Ennead were in various states of disrepair, evidence of the priesthood having to make do in these times. The Per-Aat was still grand like an elder of dignity, though as I pushed out to the houses of Lord Ra's family, the facades became more cracked, the altars dustier. The steps of the House of Shu were swept, though the fires of his sanctum were unattended. His mate Lady Tefnut's altar was clean and littered with offerings, but that was to be expected in a drought year. A priest tended the fires of the House of Geb, though with the resignation of one who knows the Lord of Earth can give nothing without rain. Lady Nut's house had been mostly left to its own devices like her father's, and her daughter Lady Nephthys' fire was maintained only by the fear of those facing so much starvation and death. The houses of Osiris and Isis were lacking the grandeur of temples I had seen in Alexandria and in the other great cities, but here they endured in their genteel poverty as best they could, like a smaller shadow of the Per-Aat itself. It was only as I passed their doorways that I understood where my feet were taking me. I was alone and more afraid in my heart than I dared to let on. My feet were taking me to the house of my Lord to seek protection.
I was not surprised by the state of Lord Set's temple when I reached its doorway. While not literally falling down where it stood, it was as abandoned as the house of a god could dare to be in a land where the people might still fear that god's wrath. Even though I knew this could only be his house, I rubbed away the dirt from the hieroglyphs on the right pillar to reveal the familiar pattern of the sha beast seated before the crouched male deity symbol with its pharaoh's false beard. I lifted my skirts as I stepped over the bits of debris scattered in the mouth of the sanctum and made my way through the interior, lit only by the trickle of light from the late afternoon sun.
In the gloom, I could faintly make out carvings on the wall. My Lord leading the royal armies in battle; riding in Lord Ra's boat, spearing the serpent Apep with his pike; standing with Lady Nephthys, his hand outstretched in blessing to his son, Lord Anubis. In one old mural, a pharaoh gave offerings to the sha seated on a throne. I squinted to make out the inscription, for it was unusual to see even the old pharaohs pay such homage to my Lord. I found the cartouche, trying to remember the rudiments of their meaning, when the delicately wrought feathers of homage gave way to a seated figure with a sha head. Of course. He Who Belongs to Set. Pharaoh Manmaatre Seti. I gazed at his elegant profile and wondered if he and I were the only royal people who had recently made a pilgrimage to this lonely place.
I put the ibis off to the side and began unwrapping the cloth from around my face and head. I took it in hand and cleaned off the altar in sweeping strokes. Normally even one as highborn as I would not be allowed to penetrate this far into the temple without special authorization. I was certainly not permitted to touch my Lord's altar, but there was no one to register a complaint.
Once the altar was free of sand and dust, I shook out my head wrap and replaced it over my hair quickly. I found a few bits of straw on the ground and darted back towards the House of Nephthys. Seeing no one around, I lit the straw in her fire and left as hurriedly as I had come, murmuring words of thanks to her. I placed the burning straw in a bowl I discovered in a corner and with it tossed the straw into the fire pit, praying there would be oil enough for it to catch. The flames that rose up were feeble enough, yet the fact they were there at all felt like a miracle.
I placed the ibis before the sacred fire and closed my eyes.
My Lord, I give you this offering so that you might protect us as we cross your kingdom in the coming days. I know that by lighting the fires of the God of War I probably hasten the doom of which you and the gods have warned me. If this is so, give me the strength I need to stand when the dreaded time comes, if you have spoken true that I am your Beloved.
––––––––
I did not linger in my Lord's house, for I assumed I had already been missed. In spite of the heat, I sprinted back to the Per-Aat where I promptly received a cuff about the ears from Kharmion for my disobedience.
Mudjet was furious. "You forget yourself, Kharmion, by laying hands upon the princess!"
"What will you do about it, Mudjet?” growled my sister’s servant in response. “You are both at my lady's mercy. Who is she going to believe?"
Our argument was cut short by the reemergence of Cleopatra. "It is too late to start anything today, the light is already dying," she said. "We will arrange ourselves in the guest houses of the temple, and tomorrow we will gather up the resources we will need here and in future."
"I have made arrangements with several merchants for our immediate needs, my lady," Kharmion answered.
"Thank you, my dear. That will help a great deal." She turned to Apollodorus. "I need you to organize the men so we have them on guard shifts. I do not know if we are pursued by Ptolemy. And you must keep your ear to the ground for information coming from Alexandria."
The Sicilian nodded and went over to start pulling the soldiers off the ground. My sister reached out for my hand, which I offered up to her, and she led us down the avenue on the other side of the complex from the one I had taken. We entered a small dwelling and began setting up the few possessions we had arrived with. There was only one couch to be had, which meant the we arrayed ourselves on the floor while Cleopatra collapsed with a huff on it. I studied my toes in my sandals and wondered what Ptah was doing at this moment.
My sister's voice interrupted my musings. "This feels just like Rome again." She was staring up at the ceiling, lost in her own thoughts.
"It is hotter here, though, my lady," remarked Kharmion as she sat sorting cloth.
Cleopatra gave a cough of amusement. "True, but the air is less humid." She relapsed into silence again and frowned. "I cannot believe I have to suffer through the same trials as my father. Truly the gods lack imagination."
Kharmion made an anxious noise and clutched an amulet around her neck, but did not challenge her mistress' assessment. I looked up from my feet. "But you have advantages over our father's situation, sister," I countered. "We have not been driven from Egypt, for a start."
"Not yet, though we will have to leave our borders to recruit an army and allies," Cleopatra answered.
"Naturally. But you are much more popular with our Roman allies than our father was, and you are much more adept at persuasion. I doubt our exile will be as long this time." I was in truth unsure about any of the claims I made, but I knew as long as I was forced to be on this journey with my sister, I needed her protection. That meant I needed the wily Cleopatra, not one mired in the debacles of the past.
She looked at me with a rueful smile. "I hope that is the case, little sister. It is kind of you to show such faith even though I know you are unhappy about being here."
I shrugged. "Besides, Ptolemy is not half as canny as Berenice. And his lords may be even more divided.”
"That is certainly true," she said, the wistfulness in her tone dispersing. "You are right. I am getting despondent because we are sitting here at loose ends. Tomorrow we shall find what we need, then we will head out into the desert to create our revolution. So we must sleep well tonight."
––––––––
I am in the Great Library in Alexandria. The scrolls and manuscripts are nestled in their shelves, the lamps hang motionless from the ceiling on their slowly rusting iron chains, caked with sea salt gleaned from the air. I wish this was real, just as much as I wish I was home with Ptah and Ganymedes in my teeming, shatterglass city. And that is when I see the baboon.
Its shaggy coat looks as dusty as the library shelves, its hornet eyes shine sharply against the uncertain light. I freeze under its menacing gaze; I remember the baboons that the entertainers brought to the palace, they could be amusing with their smart hands and sweet little dances, but I also knew of their dagger teeth and roiling tempers.
I carefully back away when I see the bright eyes of a dozen others peeking out from the rows, squatting on top of the high shelves, and from underneath the furniture. I see one path through an unguarded set of shelves, and I edge slowly towards it. I slip into the row and walk as silently as I can, keeping my panting breath as low as possible. The row seems to stretch endlessly before me as I listen for the skittering sound that means I am being followed. I reach the end of the row at last and I throw myself against its wooden end as I round the corner, closing my eyes and letting out a huff of relief.
"There is no need to be so dramatic, Ptolemy-daughter. The monkeys are harmless," a calm voice remarks before me.
My eyes fly open and I see a figure, scribbling away with an ink reed, seated at one of the tables scattered about this open space in the library. He is a man, older in appearance than my Lord, yet not an old man. He has the tanned skin of an Egyptian, but it is paled, like a person who has spent a good deal of time indoors. He glances up from beneath his blue hood, meeting my gaze with the glittering black eyes of an emerald ibis. For it is Lord Thoth, the Self-Made. Lord of All Knowledge.
I incline my head. "My lord."
He gestures for me to join him at the table as another stool materializes. His every movement has both the elegance of a wading bird and an economy of motion that intimates his understanding of how every bone and fiber relate to one another. Nothing is lost or wasted, all is thought of and utilized. Lord Thoth is called the Self-Made because he was not born of another god, but created himself out of the matter of the universe. The Greeks understand wisdom in a similar way, hence the strange birth of Athena.
I take my seat and with a wave of his hand, the papers before Thoth disappear and are replaced by a senet board.
"I am told you know how to play, Princess."
"Yes my lord, though I doubt I shall look like it before the game's inventor."
He chuckles. "Senet is not really about winning and losing. It is about opposing forces." He holds up one of the cone-shaped pieces and one of the drum-shaped ones. "Day and Night. Man and Woman. Good and Evil. All are present, all are necessary. The trick is holding them in balance." He returns the pieces to the board and makes his first move.
I then make my move. "Horus and Set," I answer.
He nods. "It is so. Egypt has long been out of balance because it has forgotten that it needs the sha Lord as much as the Falcon King. To turn one's face from the former is to deny the existence of darkness. And the world needs darkness as much as light, just as mortals bodies need sleep as much as activity." He swaps his piece in place of where I had placed mine.
I frown in concentration as I make my next move. "I do not know if I can restore balance to the Black Land, even if your lordship were to teach me every night for the rest of my life."
"You have wisdom enough for a mortal that you recognize this, Ptolemy-daughter. I am here to explain to you what your elder sister is planning so you might understand what you are facing." He tosses the gaming sticks and advances his piece.
I jump one of my pieces over his. "She is going to go ask Marcus Bibulus for help to regain her throne from our brother. It is not that mysterious."
"Then why are you in Iunu?" he queries shrewdly. "Surely she does not have time to dally anywhere unnecessarily?"
"Enlighten me, Lord of Invention."
He passes his first piece through the Field of Reeds space. "How much do you know of heka?"
I have heard the word before, though I cannot remember where. Like so many Egyptian words, it appears to be a compound word, so I break it down in my mind. The second part is easy; the ka was a person's life force, their soul. I think on the word he. It could have many meanings, so I roll them all over in my head.
At length, I look back at Thoth. "To bring forth the soul?"
He is pleased with my deduction. "After a fashion, Ptolemy-daughter. Heka is also a general term for magic, but all magic stems from the will of a being's ka. All gods use heka, some mortals can use their kas to unlock this potential. It can also be the will in one's ka to wield great power."
I place one of my pieces on the ankh space. "How does one do this?"
"To unleash one's heka, one must perform seshaw, the rituals, found in the sacred rws."
I start. "That is why we are in Heliopolis. Cleopatra seeks rw texts."
"Yes, Princess. It is so."
I feel my body contract with fear. "How can I protect Egypt as the gods have commanded if my sister can use magic? Surely she is the stronger choice?"
"Your sister's will is strong, she will undoubtedly be able to wield heka. But she will use it to make worldly alliances with the northern wolves, she will not preserve our Egypt. We have come to you, child, because you are of the land and you carry Egypt's ka in your ib."
"Can you teach me heka, my lord?" I ask, already knowing the answer.
"No, it is not your destiny to wield your own heka. Your ka’s power is what you see before you," he says expansively.
"The power to miserably lose at senet?"
This makes Lord Thoth smile. "The other Ptolemy-daughter has been given the rare ability to use heka through her own force of will. Your gift is even rarer — your ka can draw on the kas of the gods and thus you can speak with us even in this late time."
"My sister is strong, I do not know if I am enough. Even with the help of the gods."
"Perhaps not, but do not despair. Life is a great deal like senet."
And then I wake up.
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