The River of the Dead

Author's Note: This was written because of my love of the Amelia Peabody series, and because I think that Fanfiction is sadly lacking in fanfics of this series. It was also because of my deep fascination with the characters in these books, particularly that of Sethos. To straighten my priorities, I worship Sethos, adore Nefret, love Bastet, admire Ramses, respect Abdullah, like Emerson, am amused by Amelia, blink at Margaret, beam at Sir Edward and am frankly puzzled by Maryam. Yes, I worship Sethos. I really do. Any of my classmates would prove this point, and add several complaints about the nectarine abuse.

This fic is set in the in-between of Lord of the Silent and The Golden One. It involves the sort of thing that Emerson generally scoffs at – religion and the afterlife. I hope my research on these topics (in particular the tedious travelling through the archaic pages of the Book of the Dead – which in a way reminds me of Lit. classes with Mrs. See) is sufficient to prevent me from making awful Egyptology bloopers. Excuse me if I do.

I own none of the characters. The AP characters are owned by MPM (bless her soul), the Mummy characters by Stephen Sommers (bless his) and the gods own themselves. No one could argue with that.

1. The Council of the Gods

Suddenly, there was darkness. The darkness of Nothing.

The darkness of Nothing was inexorable. It consumed, and it devoured. And yet, they were here, all of them – in this Void of Nothing, trapped in the everlasting darkness, with no connection to the outside world, no way to escape.

"What shall we do now?"

The voice rang out in the Void. The Nothing cleared slightly – only slightly! – to make way for Something – the figure of a God.

Amun-Re brought light and let it flood the clearing he had made in the Nothing. He dared not let his powers extend any further. "Where are you all? Speak!"

One by one, the other gods and goddesses made their appearances, fighting through the Nothing. They came to stand at attention about their lord Amun-Re. Most seemed quizzical, some in despair.

"What is happening?" asked the man in the white robes and the White Crown of Egypt. Osiris, God of the Underworld, did not take kindly to being ousted from his domain. "Where are we? This is not the Halls of Ma'at."

"No." Re's voice was heavy. "This is nowhere in the land of Khem or the Khert-neter. This is the Void."

There was more silence, as the assembly of Egyptian deities took that in.

"The Void?" Isis, wife of Osiris, sounded very puzzled. "How did we get here, then? And why can we not leave?"

More silence, and then the tittering in the audience rose when they realised that Re, their Great Lord, knew not the answer.

"I think I know why."

Heads turned towards the speaker – the god with the ibis head and the writing tablet. Thoth looked apprehensive, and not without reason. "I know how we were transported here. It was the spell in the Book of Thoth. My book," he added, somewhat bitterly.

"So," pressed the jackal-headed Anubis, "some mortal found your book again? And read the spell that would open the Void and trap us in it?"

"Not a mortal," corrected Thoth. "A spirit. One of the Sentenced Dead."

"I thought they were sentenced," pointed out Osiris. "I sentenced them."

"They escaped," said Anubis.

Now the heads turned to him. "What?"

The jackal-headed god looked apologetic. "Truly, I was not aware of it until a few moments ago. I did not inform you, because I thought it was only a small breach – that I should be able to capture the escaped souls easily. I – "

"Which ones escaped?" interrupted Osiris.

Anubis swallowed. "Imhotep."

"Not again!" exclaimed over half a dozen gods.

"And not only Imhotep," went on Anubis. "His lover. Anck-su-namun. Their servant Lock-Nah. And another – another who had not been Sentenced yet. Perhaps she aided the Sentenced ones in escaping."

Re's lordly brow furrowed. "I thought we had seen the last of Imhotep's escape attempts, after we committed his soul to the care of Amnet. So he took the Book of Thoth."

Thoth nodded. "It was he who cast the spell that trapped us all in here."

"Why?" asked Horus.

Thoth shook his head. "I know not. Perhaps he means to take over our places and rule the Duat – impossible for a mere mortal dead, or even four of them. He has not even any great army, like the last time he stole yours, Anubis."

More silence, as the gods pondered this.

Then Anubis spoke up again. It might be that he was determined to have someone else to blame beside himself. "How did he steal the Book? I thought that after the Setna affair you took the Book out of the mortal world into your own personal library. Was it not in good enough care there?"

For once, Thoth did not answer. Instead, his eyes moved uneasily to the goddess standing by his side. She too was holding a writing tablet, but her fingers had frozen over the reed, and her hand was shaking. The seven-pointed star on her forehead trembled as a shadow passed over her face. Then suddenly, she dropped the tablet and flung herself at the feet of Re.

"The fault is mine, O Lord!" she cried. "It was through my carelessness, my lack of thought, that we are here! I was the one guarding the Library; I was the one who let the priest pass without looking into his true identity! The fault is mine! Punish me if you will!"

Thoth dropped his own writing tablet and knelt down beside the prostrate figure. "Seshat, cease this. You cannot blame yourself only."

The goddess of writing lifted a tear-stained face to Re, who sighed. "My child, your husband speaks true. We can blame not but one person for this misfortune. Let us not cast fingers of blame at each other, but try to think of a way to escape the Void."

Seshat, helped to her feet by Thoth, stepped back into the crowd of deities. There was a general hum of power in the air, as everyone used their own powers to try and push their way out of the dimension of the Void. Eventually they gave it up.

"It is in vain," sighed Re. "All our powers combined are only enough to send one or two of the weaker ones through. We need help from outside the Void."

"Then let us send a messenger," suggested Horus. "Mortal heroes have helped in our work before – let them help us this time. You said we have enough power to send one lesser god through. Let him or her bring our message to our saviours."

"Good idea," mused Re. "But you know the dangers of this. The one being sent through is in great danger of being blasted into oblivion. Who shall then be the one to be our messenger to the outside?"

An uneasy muttering and shifting of feet. Finally, one deigned to step forward.

"I shall go," announced Seshat. "I still think it is my fault."

A ripple of approval rang through the assembled. Evidently most of them agreed.

"Very well," consented Re. "Then whom shall we call upon to free us?"

The gods and goddesses discussed this among themselves, with much muttering. Horus raised his falcon's head from where he had been conversing animatedly with his wife Hathor, and called out: "I say we choose Akhu el-Afareet."

"If we choose him," interrupted Hathor in her lovely ringing voice, "we must choose his lady too – Nur Misur."

"Why not choose his whole family?" said Osiris deprecatingly. "They are all able. His father Abu Shitaim, his mother Sitt Hakim…"

"His uncle."

The voice was not one that was often heard in the assembly of the gods. It was a voice regarded with dislike and enmity – particularly Osiris. One does not usually feel kindly towards an individual who has cut you up and scattered your remnants across Egypt, even if that individual was your own brother.

Seth seemed significantly unaware of the glares fixed upon his person. "I say we choose his uncle. The Man of a Hundred Faces and a Thousand Names – he has worked for me before, and think you not it fitting that he go upon this quest with them? He is skilled in many ways."

Re frowned, but slowly he nodded. "You speak well, O Seth. There is wisdom in your words – that we have rarely seen when you speak them." Seth bowed his head at the light reproach. "We shall choose his uncle too. That makes five."

Seshat spoke up in a trembling voice. "But…but if you choose him – then the Secrets-Seeker will follow."

"The Secrets-Seeker is of no consequence," said Re. "If she wishes to follow, then so be it. They shall decide what to do with her when they find out."

Hathor smiled. It was a secret smile, one that hid a secret pleasure.

"Very well," said Re. "We are set. Seshat, you shall be sent into the Egypt of mortals. Convince them that they must return with you. Tell them to sail the River of the Dead – teach them the spell they need to open the Void."

"And what if they will not come, my lord?"

Seth strode forward abruptly. He took Seshat's limp hand, shoved an object into it and closed her other hand above it. "Show this to my servant. He will come."

Seshat bit her lip and nodded.

Thoth helped her draw the seven-pointed star in the middle of the Nothing, and she stepped into it. The other gods began to chant, to force their own diverse powers through the Nothing, through the Void…

In the depths of the Nothing, something stirred.

"Quiet!" hissed Re. "IT does not know we are here. But if IT hears us, we are too weak to fight IT. And then IT will come for us…"

Seshat clutched her wand and willed herself not to show fear. She was a goddess. Goddesses did not show fear.

The power was now palpable, cutting swathes through the Nothing. Seshat could feel the tension tearing at her, sucking her backwards…

A hole opened up in the Nothing for a single breath – the tiniest pinpoint of light. There was a wild whirling sound, the sound of a desert storm, and there was shrieking and hissing and the sound of a whipping wind –

And she was through.


She hit the pavement with such force that she thought her skull must have cracked. She could feel a tendril of blood creeping down her lip – it only showed how much the passage had weakened her, a goddess would not have bled so easily –

Pavement?

She raised her head. She was lying on a dusty pavement in the midst of a bustle of morning traffic. This was the Egypt of mortals. She was here.

She did not have very much time, though. Soon she would have to return to the Void.

She got to her feet and smoothed her leopard-skin robe out. After putting out a hand to steady the star headdress, she took her wand in a firm grip and began walking down the street.

No one seemed to notice her. At least some part of her dwindling powers remained.

She knew that Akhu el-Afareet must not be far away, or they would not have sent her here. She turned a corner and walked into one of the busy suks. So many people – and yet she knew she would recognize him once she set eyes on him.

There.

Seshat froze. There he was – and Nur Misur also. What luck! They had not seen her. They must. She must speak with them.

She ran forward. She saw him look up, glance in her direction, and then pause also, to take a better look.

He had seen her. She must call him. And so she cried out the name that they called him in this world.

"Ramses!"

End of Chapter