Gene Of Isis Part 19

'I never tease,' I informed him bluntly.

Then what do you call this?

I gasped in amus.e.m.e.nt at his implication. 'You know what I think...I think you're the tease, Albray.'

He appeared even more amused and shocked when the accusation was thrown back at him. I don't know what you mean. I don't know what you mean.

'Is that right?' If he wasn't going to admit to feeling anything for me, there was little point in pursuing this conversation any further. 'Well then, I'm going.' I turned away from Albray, removed my singlet and replaced it with a long-sleeved white shirt. 'I shouldn't be too long.' I didn't look back to catch his reaction, but threw a scarf over my head, wrapped the ends around my shoulders and braved the gale outside.

Even though it was not far to the temple complex, Andre drove us there in his cherished Humvee, which went everywhere with him. He'd scored this oversized, black, super-tough, soft-top jeep when he'd done some excavation work for the American military, and their gift to him had ensured that, to this day, he never spoke of what the project with the US military had entailed.

'Alone at last,' Andre announced, as we completed our dash through the Main Court, the Sanctuary, the Portico and into the shelter of the Cave of Hathor.

'Alone is right.' I avoided his implication. 'The storm must be keeping the tourists away.'

'Oui. The tours won't come up here in these conditions. So,' he indicated the shrine in which we stood, throwing his arms wide, 'what do you think?' The tours won't come up here in these conditions. So,' he indicated the shrine in which we stood, throwing his arms wide, 'what do you think?'

This cave had been carved into the natural rock, and had flat inner walls that had somehow been rubbed smooth. In the centre was a large upright pillar of Amenemhet III.

'It must have been magnificent,' I mumbled, and recalled the words of the man who'd uncovered the whole of the Hathor complex in 1906. 'There is no other such monument known that makes us regret more that it is not in better preservation.' 'There is no other such monument known that makes us regret more that it is not in better preservation.'

'Well, the place was buried and lost to the world for about three thousand years,' Andre remarked.

Not entirely, I considered on the quiet-for Albray had been here in the thirteenth century and Lord Hamilton's largely ignored work had brought him here in the early nineteenth century. I considered on the quiet-for Albray had been here in the thirteenth century and Lord Hamilton's largely ignored work had brought him here in the early nineteenth century.

The sands of time had taken their toll on what must once have been an imposing and majestic structure. And yet, the walls still had many tales to tell. I moved closer and pulled out a notebook and pen. It seemed highly likely that this temple would hold clues to opening the mysterious entrance we'd uncovered-or hint at what we might expect to find therein. 'It states here that the main function of the temple masters was the production of mfkzt.' mfkzt.'

'Oui,' Andre confirmed. 'There seems to be a dispute as to what that actually was. Some think copper or malachite, but as this mountain is riddled with turquoise mines we were told that turquoise is the most likely possibility. And the G.o.ddess Hathor is known as the mistress of turquoise.' Andre confirmed. 'There seems to be a dispute as to what that actually was. Some think copper or malachite, but as this mountain is riddled with turquoise mines we were told that turquoise is the most likely possibility. And the G.o.ddess Hathor is known as the mistress of turquoise.'

'As was Isis,' I added, 'but only if the word mfkzt mfkzt has not been mistranslated. Petrie didn't uncover turquoise at the site, only our strange white powder.' I stepped back to consider the entire wall. 'The numerous mentions of light and bread in these hieroglyphs suggest "our Bread of Life" seems more on the mark. Hathor was also renowned as "the mother of light". Ra may have been the sun, but Hathor was the divine power behind the great solar deity.' has not been mistranslated. Petrie didn't uncover turquoise at the site, only our strange white powder.' I stepped back to consider the entire wall. 'The numerous mentions of light and bread in these hieroglyphs suggest "our Bread of Life" seems more on the mark. Hathor was also renowned as "the mother of light". Ra may have been the sun, but Hathor was the divine power behind the great solar deity.'

This went back to what Albray had been saying about kings only being awakened by their queens, for the females carried the power of the G.o.ds and men could only hope to absorb that power via a good marriage. Perhaps this was why women were bound to be made happy by the love they gave, and men by the love they received.

'Hathor was also a protector of women...' Andre added.

Granting females the power to awaken a superhuman ability was certainly a way of ensuring their survival and the respect of men. I remembered the effect Ashlee Granville had had on Earnest Devere-he'd gone so far as to describe his love as an addiction!

'Which probably explains why only a woman can open the door we've uncovered,' Andre finished his thought.

'So, let us suppose,' I hypothesised, 'that the priests did manufacture the manna or ORME here-'

'To what end?' Andre played devil's advocate. 'To open the lower entrance we've uncovered?'

'To manufacture superior building materials to make such a structure, perhaps?' I raised my eyebrows, intrigued by the idea. 'They would certainly have used such a substance to enlighten their priest-kings and priestess-queens...'

In my mind's eye I saw a vision of how this place had appeared at the height of its glory. This had been a structure so grand as to rival any ancient temple of the period. Desperately clinging to my unique ancient perspective, I turned to view the undamaged altar and column and the unweathered text that lined everything herein. Beyond the one entrance into the Cave of Hathor, I beheld the closed-in Portico and through another grand doorway sunlight fell onto the paved floor of the Sanctuary of the G.o.ddess that was open to the sky.

I blinked and snapped out of my trance. It wasn't like me to vague out like that and my imagination usually left a lot to be desired. 'They could have used the substance to heal their sick.' I resumed my contemplation of the true purpose of this place. 'They could probably nurture the earth and enhance their produce, and any number of things I cannot even conceive of. It certainly explains why Moses might have led his people here. There's a whole new slant on the golden calf incident, as Hathor was sometimes represented as a cow, and manna has also been called alchemist's gold.' I smiled, as I thought that Lord Hereford was probably right in a.s.suming that this truly was the mountain of Moses.

Which reminded me-I had yet to read Lord Hamilton's account, and that might prove mighty insightful at this stage. After all, he had opened our mysterious door...how else could he have the Star vial in his possession? I made a mental note to scan through Hamilton's journal upon returning to my tent.

I ceased my wondering and looked at Andre, who was smiling amiably at me.

'Your mind is an amazing place, Mia Montrose.' He moved to approach me, when his beeper went off. 'The G.o.ds really hate me!' He grabbed his pager from his belt to read the message. 'It's Molier. I'll have to head back down to camp to call him. Do you want to stay a while? I can come back for you.'

All alone in an ancient Egyptian temple? h.e.l.l, yes. 'That would be great, Andre. Merci.' Merci.'

In Andre's absence I got some work done. I'd discovered what I suspected to be the quant.i.ties of asena, acacia and mfkzt mfkzt (manna?), needed to make the Star vial substance. The names of the ingredients had all been chiselled away, so I was not sure which quant.i.ty belonged to which substance in the sacred brew. (manna?), needed to make the Star vial substance. The names of the ingredients had all been chiselled away, so I was not sure which quant.i.ty belonged to which substance in the sacred brew.

I was so engrossed, I didn't look up when I heard Andre return. 'I think I've found the formula.'

When an enthusiastic response was not forthcoming, I looked up to find Akbar and wished I could have prevented my gasp of shock. 'Akbar, you startled me.' I stood up to address him, as he was some distance away. 'Did Andre send you to fetch me?'

'You do not belong here,' the imposing foreigner, all dressed in black, stated calmly, then pulled a large curved sword from beneath his robes.

'Do you mean I do not belong in this sanctuary?' I attempted to reason with him while I inched around to put the remains of the altar between myself and he who was threatening to cause me bodily harm.

'I mean...on this mountain.'

Akbar came running at the altar and somersaulted over it, whereupon I made for the cave entrance, only to be confronted by another pair of locals who grabbed hold of one of my arms each and dragged me back into the cave-shrine.

'Let go of me!' I protested, and struggled to no avail. 'What the h.e.l.l do you think you're doing?' I didn't even have my stone on me, so I couldn't call Albray for help. Yet in my mind I screamed for his aid, as he was my only hope of getting out of this, short of a busload of tourists suddenly arriving in the teeth of the gale outside. 'Surely you can't expect to get away with killing me?'

'Have you seen the cliffs on the far side of this mountain? There is no recovering a body that has fallen down there.' Now that I had no chance of going anywhere, Akbar took his time to stroll over and taunt me with my impending death. 'You shall not defile this sacred place with your foul presence any longer, American.'

'I'm an Australian,' Australian,' I stressed, hoping the fact might lessen his wrath. I stressed, hoping the fact might lessen his wrath.

'Is there a difference?' he replied, nodding to his a.s.sociates to force me to my knees so that he might remove my head.

Praise be to Hathor, Albray joined me at that moment. The sweet relief I felt at his presence enfolding me cannot be put into words. It felt like a tremendous gift of love, but whether this sentiment stemmed from myself or my protector, I could not tell.

My feet now firmly planted to the ground, I resisted my captor's intent by stepping back and swinging the men into each other with such force they staggered backward in a daze.

As Akbar lashed out with his sword, I dived into a tuck roll, and then, turning about on my haunches, I swung a leg wide into the back of Akbar's legs and he went crashing to the ground. I jumped up, used his face as a football, and stomped on his sword arm to retrieve his razor-sharp weapon. I held it beneath his chin. 'I'll cut his throat as quickly as he would have cut mine,' I threatened, and his accomplices backed up. I turned my attention back to Akbar, as he was obviously the man in charge. 'What if I can prove to you that I have a perfect right to be here?' I found myself saying it, yet Albray had control of my body at present and I wondered what he planned.

'This cannot be settled by a work visa,' Akbar snarled, humiliated by his defeat at the hands of a foreign woman. 'It is about-'

'Being of the blood.' blood.' I finished his sentence, and managed to gain his ear with my words. I finished his sentence, and managed to gain his ear with my words.

I stood and tossed the sword straight up, where it lodged in the roof. Pardon Pardon me...I heard Albray's voice in my mind, as he raised my hands and ripped open my shirt to expose the mark between my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. I was horrified to have done so in front of the local men, until they all got to their knees and bowed down before me in apology. Albray closed my shirt and held it together with one hand. me...I heard Albray's voice in my mind, as he raised my hands and ripped open my shirt to expose the mark between my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. I was horrified to have done so in front of the local men, until they all got to their knees and bowed down before me in apology. Albray closed my shirt and held it together with one hand.

'Daughter of Isis, forgive us.' Akbar did not look up as he spoke. 'We live only to serve you.'

'What!' My voice responded at last to my command, as I felt Albray withdraw. I was left dazed and staggering with the impact that the extreme effort had had on my body.

'I told you that men worship you, Mia.' Andre happened upon the scene, and was amused until he noticed I was holding my shirt together. 'Are you all right, Mia?' He looked from the cowering men to me. 'What happened to your shirt?'

'I, ah...tripped and ripped it.' It sounded weak but it would do. I looked back to the men paying me homage. 'Thank you for showing me that prayer ritual, Akbar. It was very informative, but you can get up now.' I hurried him along with my hand and he obliged me, motioning his men to follow him. 'I'm done here, for the moment.' I fetched my notes and left the cave, leaving Andre to bring up the rear.

The storm had worn itself out and blue skies prevailed, along with the searing heat of the sun. There was clear fresh air to breathe and I filled my lungs with it, having felt like I'd not drawn breath during that entire incident.

When Andre joined me at his jeep, he knew something was not quite right. He climbed into the car and started it up, and as he turned to look behind and reverse, he commented, 'I could have sworn I saw a sword hanging from the roof in the cave just now.' He looked at me for a comment, after he'd backed up the car.

'Don't ask.' I ended the conversation by pointing him toward camp.

I used work-related research as an excuse to part with Andre and take dinner in my tent. I really was dying to look into Lord Hamilton's account of opening the mysterious entrance in the mountain that was currently puzzling us.

I entered my tent to find a forlorn Albray. 'I am so sorry I wasn't there sooner...are you all right?'

'Don't apologise,' I insisted, suppressing a grin. The thought of him ripping my shirt open infused me with such desire that my cheeks burned-thank G.o.d I was not wearing the stone! 'It felt incredible to be so powerful and able to control the situation.' I badly mimicked how I rescued myself. 'You must have been a very great knight, Albray.' I came to a standstill.

He shied from the suggestion. 'If I had been a very great knight then Molier would be dead.'

He wasn't good at taking a compliment; this score Albray had to settle with Molier was undermining his self-esteem badly. 'I don't suppose you want to talk about Molier?'

Albray shook his head. 'I'd really rather that you read the details. The tale is very long and complicated, and Mrs Devere is a much better storyteller than I.'

'As you wish.' I let the issue go, as it obviously disturbed him. I didn't mention that I was going to take a look at Lord Hamilton's journal first, because Albray was opposed to opening the mysterious entrance. Whether we opened the door or not, I still had to discover the key.

'I shall leave you to read.' My knight disappeared through the wall of the tent.

It was only after Albray had gone that I thought to tell him that I suspected I'd had a vision whilst in the Cave of Hathor. I fancied that my psychic ability was kicking in. But why now, when I had never shown any apt.i.tude, or taken any ability-enhancing elixir? I couldn't help but feel it was due to Albray's influence: not that he'd developed my talent, but, rather, inspired it. He made me feel, for the first time, that anything was possible. Albray had done the same for Ashlee by granting her physical liberation from the constraints of her era. He had given me spiritual freedom, despite the restraints of my scientific mind. A week ago, I would never have considered psychic ability possible, let alone that I was psychic. Or perhaps it was just wishful thinking, because I wanted to impress Albray the way Ashlee obviously had.

'Paid work first,' I resolved.

Armed with tea and chocolate, I found the silver key that opened Lord Hamilton's big green journal and, placing the book on my desk, I opened it up under the lamplight and sat down to read.

I skipped over Hamilton's account of his early days in the Middle East and the funding troubles they'd had with the excavation of the mountain. I took up the tale where the discovery of the superstrong doorway had led to the project being served notice to wrap up their dig-their excavation permit had been revoked.

LESSON 11.

DARKNESS.

FROM THE JOURNAL OF LADY CLARISSA HAMILTON.

The night before our departure from Serabit el-Khadim, Lord Hamilton was in a highly-strung, depressed mood, and quite the worse for drink. This was understandable when one considered that my husband had devoted twenty years to the excavation of this mountain, only to be locked out when he was on the verge of a major discovery.

In the middle of the small section of the site we'd managed to unearth, my dear Mr Hamilton had taken to the mountain with a shovel. He dug by lantern light, determined to make use of every hour he had left to excavate.

We'd seen all our fellow archaeologists depart in the past few weeks, and all our hired hands had left to find new work. Only a couple of guides and the camels kept us company in the barren wilderness in those last few days.

I stood there and watched my husband dig for some time that evening, but he was unaware of my presence before I made it known. I asked him what he hoped to achieve at this late hour of our stay in the Holy Land. He was certainly in no fit state to stumble into a potentially precarious situation. And even if he did manage to find the key to unlock the mysterious door we'd unearthed, we had to leave by noon the next day or we would not have enough water to comfortably sustain us for the journey back to civilisation.

'If I find something tonight then we will b.l.o.o.d.y well ration-'

My Lord Hereford was not given the chance to finish his sentence, for as he slammed the tip of his spade into the earth, the soil gave way beneath him and he disappeared from my sight.

Fearful for my husband's wellbeing, I went forward and dropped on to my stomach to call into the dark abyss. My cries resounded in the s.p.a.ce that opened out below the hole that Hamilton had fallen through. I knew he was alive; I could hear him coughing.

Fortunately, the drink had relaxed him and small piles of soft sand on the floor of the chamber had also cushioned his fall. He hadn't broken any bones, which was a great relief indeed, considering our imminent departure. Hamilton requested that I tie a lantern on a rope and lower it down to him.

He had landed in a room filled with hieroglyphs-the walls and the square central pillar were covered in them. The floor was entirely covered by fine white sand, and both doorways leading out of the chamber were collapsed and blocked. When Hamilton bent down to dig into the floor, he realised the substance that covered it was not sand. It felt like ash to the touch, and yet it was as white as snow. The tiny particles were so fine that they began to rise and dance toward the lantern flame. When he held his hand down close to the powder, it was attracted to his skin. 'Must be the heat,' he'd concluded, then was flabbergasted at the sight of his lantern slowly levitating toward the ceiling.

When I heard my husband chuckling, I leant over the hole to see what amused him.

'Boo!' Hamilton stuck his head through the ground and startled the life out of me.

I squealed at the unexpected apparition and then laughed with relief as I recognised my husband. 'How did you get up here?' I had been wondering if I was going to have to wake our guides to hoist Mr Hamilton out of the hole he'd dug for himself.

'I'm floating!' he announced with a chuckle. He hoisted himself out of the hole to sit on the side and dust the mysterious powder off, so that he wouldn't float away into the stratosphere. 'I believe I've had a revelation regarding the key to our mysterious door.'

'Evidently,' I concurred, as his lantern floated into my grasp. I looked at him, confused as to how this could be happening.

'This powder reacts to heat,' he said, laughing at the simplicity of the solution. 'I strongly suspect that the sun will open the door for us.'

The next morning we were up with the sun. We had covered the gaping hole in the mountain with a boulder after withdrawing several buckets of powder from the chamber-the last thing we needed was for the sun to heat, and float away, all the mysterious powder.

Since uncovering the entrance door in the side of the mountain, we had noted how the mysterious substance used in its construction was heated to extreme temperatures during the day. So our plan was this: wait for the door to heat up and then we would cast this powder over the metal-even if it didn't all instantly stick to it, the door was the hottest thing in the immediate area and the particles would surely be attracted to it. Our theory was that once the sun baked the powder the door would lift right out of its frame.

If we did get the entrance open, there was every reason to believe that it would be dark inside. We had our guides prepare some torches for us. For this they used rags, doused in an absolutely foul-smelling oil, which were then bound tightly to the top of a stake-not only did the oil burn well and slowly, the locals swore that the scent kept the insects at bay too.

And so we waited for the day to heat up and here in the Sinai one did not have to wait very long.

I stood by, shaded under my umbrella, while Mr Hamilton tossed buckets of powder over our mysterious round entrance into the mountain. As antic.i.p.ated, we lost very little of the powder to the hot breeze. Exposed to the morning's heat, the tiny granules began to emit light, glistening like snowflakes in the full gaze of the sun. Like nails drawn to a magnet, the light specks settled upon the mysterious metal doorway.

'So far so good.' Hamilton came to stand beside me and bear witness to what eventuated.

The metal of the doorway did react with the particles, but not in the way we'd expected. Instead of lifting the door out of its frame the powder began eating into the metal, reducing it to pure light, until nothing was left inside the black circle of hieroglyphs that marked the perimeter of the entrance.

At this point our guides begged us not to enter, and requested that we all leave at once.