As the Gods Demand (Story) (Patreon)

I've been quiet for too long, but I've been working on a story for the next Furry Historical Fiction Society anthology, 'In the Light of Dawn.' The group said I could share this with you, so clocking in at over 9,500 words, let me take you to Ancient Egypt and a world where the gods of old lived.

As the Gods Demand

Author’s Note: There are multiple versions of the negative confessions known to Egyptologists. I have used two short excerpts from Chapter 125 of the Book of the Dead as found in Ancient Egyptian Literature: The New Kingdom by Miriam Lichtheim, copyright 1976, 2006 in this story to provide authenticity to the writing. Also, thank you to the anonymous author(s) of the story Setne Khamwas and Naneferkaptahwhose work has survived since the time of the Ptolemies and provided inspiration for this work.

Nehi, lector priest of the Temple of Anubis in Saka, unrolled the scroll carefully. It had seen better days; the edges of the papyrus had frayed, the ink had faded, but the hieroglyphics were still clear and legible. The story it told was a strange tale about a vision and a form of prophecy that allowed two seers to look into the future, speaking in paired voices. The vision spoke of something distant yet near, and the shaping of destiny, but it was missing a crucial bit. The scroll didn’t say how to gain the power, just how it could be used.

The jackal sighed and shook his head. There was no great truth to be found in this account, at least not for him. The cheetahs described therein had powers to see far more than the simple divinations he could do, and the paired technique was unknown to him. He rolled the scroll back up and regarded it for a few minutes. While the technique was lost, the account should not be discarded, and he made a note to himself to have one of the temple’s scribes copy the account onto fresh papyrus. It would not be good to see wisdom like this unpreserved, even if he could not use it.

He scratched behind his ears, and considered what he could do. He needed answers, but there was nothing he could find to help him in the temple’s collection of scrolls. He needed guidance and without that he was powerless to help Idu. He had already poured water into a bowl and tried to see what signs Anubis would send to him, but nothing had come. His mind was too clouded to see. The only way to truly find out what he needed to do lay inside the thing that scared him the most.

Standing, he stretched, replaced the scroll in its cubby, then stepped out of the small room. He walked down the hallway, passing storerooms with fine wine and incense inside. Next there was a treasury that held jewels and clothing to adorn the statue of Anubis. All the tools to worship the god were here, carefully secured in the inner part of the temple. Only the high priest and his lector priests were allowed in here, and Nehi was lucky to have achieved such a high rank at such a young age.

He paused before the double doors that provided entrance to the inner sanctuary. The other nearby shrines were currently empty since no statues of other gods were visiting this temple, but the Shrine of Anubis was still occupied. Since it was dark out, Anubis was supposed to be sleeping, and he was not to be disturbed until the morning. Only on special nights when devotees would entertain the god would the shrine be unsealed after sundown. Tonight however, it had been violated after it was sealed for the day, and the clay seal lay broken on the ground outside of the shrine. Nehi had shattered the clay himself.

He pushed the doors open and entered, quietly. Inside an oil lamp burned, and before the statue of Anubis sat another jackal, Idu, deep in prayer. He was as motionless as the statue, head bowed, body held in supplication to Anubis. His muzzle was pointed down, and his tail was still. In the weak light from the sole oil lamp, the details of Idu’s tawny face fur and darker shoulders were obscured. Nehi knew Idu’s fur was lighter in tone than his own and had traced the transitions of the cream fur along his stomach many a night. He loved Idu with all his heart, maybe more than even Anubis. Was that why the god would not answer him and send him a sign?

Nehi shut the door carefully and approached the shrine. The life-sized statue of Anubis stood there clothed in fine cloth, holding an ostrich feather in front of him to symbolize his service to the truth in Ma’at’s name. It was his job to weigh the heart of the deceased and render the judgement of Ma’at in the Hall of the Two Truths. Behind Anubis, Ma’at’s wings were drawn on the wall, to symbolize Anubis’s connection to judgement and truth.

Carefully, Nehi sat down next to Idu and bowed his head to join him in contemplation. Idu stirred and looked over at him.

“Did you find anything?” the other lector priest whispered.

“Nothing. I cannot see anything in the water and looking over the texts in the library offers no clues.”

Both their eyes turned to the statue of Anubis and the scroll sitting in front of the god, waiting. It looked so innocuous, yet it was anything but. It had all the answers Nehi needed, however, he knew better than to read it.

“It shouldn’t be here,” said Idu.

“I know, but how did it get here? It was buried over a hundred years ago, and yet here it is.”

Idu sighed. “It looks like someone went and found it, then realized their mistake. It found it with the offerings, sitting on top of a sack of barley in the storeroom. I didn’t realize what it is,” said Idu with a shiver, ears going back.

“It’s okay,” said Nehi, reaching out. “You only read the first spell.”

“Thoth did not want the book to be shared by those who were not trusted with it. His vengeance on those who steal his secrets is well known.”

Nehi leaned forward to nuzzle his love and embraced him. “I know the story, and yet here it is, in our temple. We will take care of it for Thoth. In the morning, I can send a messenger to the governor asking if he knows of a magician who can read signs. It is possible one of the priests in one of the other temples in town would know what to do with it.”

Idu shivered against him. “Is that wise? Whoever stole it obviously left it with us to reintern it. I do not think it a coincidence it arrived after the high priestess went to Luxor.”

Nehi frowned and let go of the other jackal. “It might not be, but what can we do?”

“We put it back in the tomb of Naneferkaptah. The legend says the scroll was returned there by Setne after he had taken it. That is where Thoth wants it to be. If this story is true, the tomb is somewhere in the necropolis of Men-nefer, but the tomb is said to be lost.”

He considered. “Are you sure it’s the Book of Thoth and not just a book of spells?”

Idu drooped his muzzle to look at his paws. “I understand the songs of the birds now. If the story is correct, the next spell tells you how to see the gods themselves. I refuse to read further.”

Nehi got up and walked over to the scroll. “I’m going to read the first spell.”

Idu stood up in shock, moving to block Nehi from approaching the statue of Anubis. “Why would you do that?”

“Out fates are twined. I will not let you suffer on your own, and if this truly is the Book of Thoth, it will give me the power to understand all the beasts of the world too. Let Thoth’s rage be directed at us both.”

Idu wrung his paws. “Nehi, this is a serious matter. He will not be kind to us.”

Nehi looked at the statue of Anubis, carved in black stone. “It is a matter of the gravest severity and tempts death, but have we not served the Master of Secrets, the Foremost of the Westerners, faithfully? I do not think he would let Thoth destroy us and scatter our kas.”

Idu inhaled sharply at the suggestion. Neither of them wanted to lose their ka, and have their spiritual selves be destroyed. There would be no afterlife for them then. “It is foolish to assume we know what the gods want. I do not wish to see us both buried in our tomb so soon. The Lord of Divine Words will be angry at us both then.”

“It is indeed foolish to assume we know what they want, but let us suffer together as we have served together,” said Nehi, pushing past Idu. He picked up the scroll. “If our names are to be forgotten, and our hearts eaten by Ammit, then let us together cease to be.”

Idu let out of nervous bark as Nehi unrolled the scroll, but he did not stop him. Nehi began to read, and when he reached the end of the first spell, he stopped and rolled the scroll back up. “It is done,” he said softly. “We face this together.”

“Do you too understand the speech of the simpler beasts?” asked Idu.

Nehi walked over to the entrance to the inner sanctuary and opened the door. He tilted his ears and listened. From there he could hear distant insects coming from the courtyard. They were calling out in the warm summer night, and there was now knowledge and meaning to their calls that had not been there before. He swiveled his ears more and listened, and he heard a distant bull in the temple stables, calling out to complain about pulling a plow through a field all day. He now understood the words of all the animals, not just the ones who walked on two legs and built houses of mudbrick.

“Yes,” he whispered, turning back to Idu. He curled his tail tight against himself. “I understand what they say now.”

“The next spell in the book lets you perceive the gods themselves.”

Nehi shuddered and reached out to embrace Idu. “Let us not tempt Thoth any further and return the scroll as soon as we can.”

“Do you think his temple in Men-nefer will know where the tomb is?”

“They might. I will go to the docks in the morning and see if I can find a ship sailing north, so I can send a message to Sadah asking that she come at once. She would be the best person for this, and I trust no one else with a secret like this.”

Idu considered. “You know, she would be the perfect person to talk to. Her knowledge of religious law is above all others. Tomorrow we will go together after we do our morning recitations. Let us seal up the shrine for the night and leave Anubis to his rest.”

#

The wind howled as Nehi walked through the hypostyle hall of the temple among the tall pillars, a sandstorm angrily whirling outside the building. He was searching for Idu, but he couldn’t locate the other jackal. None of the scribes or laborers who maintained the temple were present either. The hall was devoid of people, and the large stone columns offered no clues to where they had all gone. During the day there was always someone about. Instead, he was alone, and a sandstorm had engulfed the temple.

He hurried to the core of the building, passing through the entrance at the back of the hall into the inner portion of the temple. He was hoping to find Idu in the inner sanctuary, but he was not there either. Instead, the shrine was deserted and the incense unlit. The statue of Anubis was missing, and a fine layer of sand had settled on the floor.

He took a deep breath and turned to see if the barque shrine—the wooden boat that was used to carry the god when he left the temple—was still there. When not in use, it sat in front of the doors to the inner sanctuary. That space was empty now.

Had the porters come and taken the statue to transport it somewhere? Was there a festival he’d forgotten about? Surely, Idu would have come and found him if there was a reason to take the statue somewhere. And where was everyone, anyway? Even if the god had left the shrine, perhaps to visit one of his other temples or to travel the land, taking his lector priests with him, someone would be behind maintaining the temple and guarding its storerooms.

Desperate, he called out. “Idu! Idu, where are you?”

There was no response, only the sound of wind from the storm. It growled louder and louder, and as he looked, he could see sand from the hypostyle hall blowing into the inner parts of the temple.

Confused and alone, Nehi reentered the hypostyle hall with its grand columns. Even though he had just been here, the sand was starting to pile up, and he had to stumble his way through it toward the colonnaded courtyard at the front of the temple.

“Idu!” he called out again, growing desperate. Where was everyone? Why had they left without telling him?

The courtyard was filled with a fine sand that he easily sank into. The storm here blew against him, and he had to fold his ears back as the wind pelted his exposed chest fur and tore at his pleated kilt. But that wasn’t what drew his attention.

Standing before the pylon that was the temple entrance was a lone figure holding a khopesh. It stood silently, and Nehi wondered who dared brave such a maelstrom when he realized this strange traveler stood not in the storm, but inside a pocket of calm air. They were the source of the storm.

Nehi gulped against the wind, and the figure turned to fix its gaze upon him. A long beak was upon its face, and the eyes burned with rage.

“Thoth,” said Nehi, stumbling back, ears pinned against his skull. He could feel the rage, and his tail tucked tightly behind him.

The god raised the khopesh, pointed the blade at the jackal, and screamed a challenge at Nehi that stabbed right at his heart.

#

Nahi awoke with a wordless yell, his heart jumping erratically. His paw pads burned from the sand that was not there, and his tongue was dry. He could still taste the sand in his muzzle. Idu stirred next to him but did not wake. Instead, he whined like a puppy as something troubled his sleep.

The night was quiet, and a bit of moonlight had intruded into the room. Nehi got up and walked over to the wall to adjust the reed mat that covered the high set window. He didn’t remember leaving it open, but maybe Idu had gotten up to adjust it.

He caught a glimpse of the crescent moon, and he paused for a moment. Something was touching him, almost as if someone was raking claws through his fur, trying to grasp hold of him.

He spun around and stepped back trying to find whatever it was. Confused and shaken, he went to adjust the reed, and the moment he stepped back into the feeble moonlight, he could feel the sensation again.

With a loud yelp he backed up away from the window and sat down on the far side of his small room, away from the moon. It wasn’t someone trying to touch him, it was the moon trying to grasp him.

Idu stirred with a groan. “What’s wrong?” he asked groggily.

“He knows we have the book,” said Nehi shakily.

“Who knows?”

“Thoth. I saw him in my dreams.”

Idu scrunched up his muzzle and got up from the bed. “Perhaps it was just a nightmare.”

“No, it’s the moonlight. Thoth is using his powers to seek us out.”

Idu’s ears went back, and he walked over to the window and gingerly stuck a paw into the shaft of moonlight. With a yelp he pulled it back, hackles shooting up. “By the gods!”

“We can’t wait for Sadah to come. We need to take the book to her immediately.”

“If we bar the window,” offered Idu, “we might be able to keep Thoth at bay.”

Nehi whined, tail between his legs. “No, the window was closed. Thoth’s power will only grow as the moon heads towards full. His magic is always more powerful then.”

“We have less than a tenday to get to Men-nefer then,” said Idu, pacing. “We can go to the docks before dawn and ask every ship there if anyone plans to sail north. Who though will take care of the shrine in our absence?”

“I will instruct the scribes to leave it sealed. Anubis will understand. When we return, we will see that he is taken care of.”

Idu frowned. “The high priestess won’t like it. Rai trusted us to conduct all the rituals in her absence.”

“If we don’t get this scroll back to the tomb of Naneferkaptah by the full moon, Rai will need to find herself two new lector priests.”

#

They left the temple just as the light of day was touching the distant horizon and walked down through the empty streets. Even the farmers weren’t up at this hour, but they’d both barely slept the rest of the night. Nehi had woken one of the scribes before they departed and given him detailed instructions, but the cheetah was plainly confused why they were leaving.

“Did a messenger from Rai come in the night?” he asked.

“Of a sort, yes,” said Nehi. He opted not to give the man the truth. Rai would be very confused and upset to find her temple untended if she returned before them, but they would explain it all to Rai, if they survived this. She’d understand the urgency of the matter and the need to be discreet. And if they didn’t make it back, well, she’d just have to train someone new. Some of the scribes were quite promising candidates for the job. Rai would be able to make do.

In the predawn light, they were barely silhouettes in the darkness, silently treading through the darkened streets of Saka. They wore only simple collars and kilts. Idu carried a basket on his shoulder with loaves of bread along with dates, apricots, and figs, while Nehi carried a bag containing brushes and spare kilts. Nehi also had a jar of wine on his shoulder, their payment for the voyage to Men-nefer.

Nehi and Idu asked all the boats if they were heading downriver, but only the last boat, captained by a portly baboon, was heading in that direction.

“Awake early,” yawned the captain, regarding them.

“We have urgent temple business in Men-nefer,” said Nehi. “It is important we reach the city as soon as possible. We bring a jug of the finest wine from the temple stores to pay our way.”

The baboon looked over the jackals. “Is the wine from the temple of Anubis?”

“Indeed, made for the god himself,” said Nehi.

The baboon scratched behind an ear. “We’re carrying obsidian, ivory, and spices from the south. I don’t have anything in the way of accommodations for passengers outside of the papyrus shade in the aftercastle. You can stay there while the crew works.”

“That will be fine,” replied Idu. “Do we have a deal?’

“Indeed,” said the baboon. “My crew will appreciate the wine greatly tonight. Come, climb on board. We sail when the sun touches the sky.”

Nehi and Idu boarded the ship and the baboon walked them to the back of the boat past the cargo loaded in the middle. In the back there was indeed a shade built over a frame of wood, and the captain bid them to stay there while he roused his crew and made sure each was ready for the day’s sailing.

As they stood there, they heard the animals of the land and the birds of the sky calling to each other, starting to welcome the coming of the day. Where once the calls were meaningless to them, now they understood everything, and it made them both nervous. They grasped paws and tried not to focus on the words.

#

The journey from the seventeenth nome of upper Egypt to Men-nefer, in the first nome of lower Egypt, was stressful and trying. There was no privacy on the boat, and the baboon quickly figured out the two jackals were a couple. The crew were thankful to see that priests were on board, saying the gods would favor this journey, and neither Nehi or Idu had the heart to tell them there was at least one god that wished them ill. With how tight the boat was, they didn’t want to discuss the book. Any conversation above a whisper could be overheard, and they had no interest in drawing attention to the sack with the book in it, tucked out of the way under the shade.

One of the sailors, a lioness, let them borrow her copy of Hounds and Jackals, and they played the game over and over till they were bored. Rarely did the jackals win either, no matter who played as them.

Beyond that, the trip passed slowly, and too often the crew let the current carry them downriver instead of rowing to pick up the pace. The jackals had nothing to offer them to make the captain order the crew to the oars, so they waited, and gave quiet reassurance to each other even though their plight grew more and more dire.

Each night, they went to the front of the boat and slept there with the oarsmen and oarswomen up front. The captain offered them the opportunity to sleep in back where he rested, but they chose the front where more people were. And each night, the moon grew a little fuller, and they felt Thoth’s rage against them more keenly as they curled up together. Being with the crew stilled Thoth’s talons, but as they lay there listening to the insects speak to one another in the darkness, they felt their anxiety grow.

While Thoth chose not to attack them while they were awake, they dreamed the same dream. They were trapped together in a tomb of stone each night. Endless corridors with a thousand images of Anubis passing judgement were painted on the walls. They ran as fast as they could from a beast of fang and fur that screamed mindlessly for their flesh. They ran with their paws entwined, afraid to let each other go. Always they were one step ahead of it. Always there was another turn and split in the tomb, and they were able to keep ahead of the nameless creature that sought them. And yet each night it felt closer, and each night its cries grew more ravenous.

In the morning they whispered a few words about the trial of the night before and they knew their dreams were the same. They would then fall into silence and anxiety, trying not to pick the fur off their tails. Thoth was putting them on trial, and each day that passed his magic grew in strength and their shared dream grew longer. All they could do was hope the ship made the journey quickly, before the moon reached full.

On the morning of the eighth day, as they sat under the shade, both exhausted from the journey and the trials of their dreams, Idu finally reached the end of his patience.

“What happens if we just let the monster catch us tonight?” he whispered to Nehi, after the sun was up and the boat back out into the channel. His frayed nerves had finally worn down his sense of caution.

Nehi frowned. “I don’t know. It could be like being thrown to Ammit. Our kas might perish, and we would be lost.”

Idu sighed. “Surely a dream can’t be deadly.”

“We should have our own dreams, but ours are the same right now. Thoth is making known his demands. The book must be returned.” They glanced back to where the baboon was calling out orders to his crew, hand on the tiller. “He says we should reach Men-nefer tomorrow.”

“I know, but does Thoth not realize we will do for him what we do for Anubis?”

“One would hope, but the gods are fickle. They each have their own goals.”

Idu grumbled and tugged on his ears. “I need to feel the warm, calm winds of Shu within myself again.”

“Soon, my love, we will return to the temple and recite the daily devotions, and worship our lord like he deserves. When our duties are done, I will bathe your paws and serve you wine as my beloved.”

Idu lowered his muzzle, embarrassed. “As I will do for you also.”

“We are in this together,” said Nehi. “The captain says we should reach Men-nefer tomorrow.”

“I know, my love,” replied Idu, and they touched the side of their muzzles together so they could feel each other’s warmth.

#

That night, their dreams were unsettled with images of endless sand and swirling water, but they were not chased. The dream had changed, and neither knew what it meant. They slept better that night than they had in a tenday, and they were the last to wake that morning. The oarsmen had gotten up with the faintest hint of light, wanting to make Men-nefer by that afternoon and be discharged from the boat to enjoy their wages in the taverns by the docks.

Idu and Nehi felt their spirits lifting. The moon would be full tomorrow, but with Sadah’s help, the ordeal would be over. It was still early morning when they saw the first distant pyramid on the west bank of the Nile.

Nehi and Idu came to the railing then and watched the pyramid come into view upon the valley rim, and slowly fade away as the boat moved on. They still needed to pass the pyramids of Dahshur, and then the boat would reach Men-nefer, the ancient capital of the kingdom. The tomb of Naneferkaptah was somewhere here, perhaps in Giza, north of Men-nefer, or one of the other necropolises that were built in this area.

“Where do you think the tomb exactly is?” asked Nehi, after the first pyramids faded from view.

Idu shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ve been burying our dead here for two thousand years up on the plateau. The tomb could be anywhere. With luck, Anubis will give us a sign, and we can be done with this.”

Two hours later, as the sun was beginning to reach late afternoon, the outskirts of Men-nefer came into view. Both lector priests breathed a sigh of relief, but something caught their attention.

“What is that?” whispered Nehi, swiveling his ears.

“It’s a bird, calling out about something in the river,” said Idu.

“Captain, there’s a whirlpool ahead!” someone in the front of the boat called out.

The baboon strained to see from the back of the boat, adjusting the tiller. “What! I’ve never seen one near here.”

One of the sailors came running toward the back of the boat. “It’s straight ahead!”

“Everyone row!” yelled the baboon, pulling the tiller to one side. The boat shifted to the right as all the sailors grabbed an oar. Idu looked around and spotted one that sat next to the cargo unclaimed.

“Come on,” he said, moving down the deck to pick up the oar.

“I don’t see another—” The boat jerked suddenly to the left as it was caught in the pull of the whirlpool.

“Damn sandbars!” cursed the captain as the boat was yanked violently by the whirlpool. Nahi tried to grab the edge of the boat as he was thrown against it, but his paw pads slipped across it, and he went over the side into the river.

“Nehi,” screamed Idu, but Nehi could not hear him as he was sucked under, caught in the whirlpool. Panicked, he tried to swim toward the surface, but the water pulled him down.

“No!” he screamed in a burst of bubbles, fighting to reach the surface. If they couldn’t find his body, he wasn’t going to be buried with Idu. Would he be able to find Idu in Aaru? Could he even make the journey through the afterlife without preparation?

Yet as he struggled against the current, he could feel talons around his chest, dragging him down. Thoth might let one of them live, but it would not be Nehi. He had tempted fate by reading the scroll willingly, and as he sank, he realized that mistake. Nehi had promised they’d do this together, but now Idu would be on his own.

Yet as he felt the life fading within himself, something scaly bumped him and pushed him. Feebly he pushed against it and it bumped him again, not down like the current was pushing him, but up.

His strength was gone now, but suddenly he broke the surface. He gasped for air, spitting out water, only to realize he was being carried on top of a crocodile. Was this Ammit herself, he thought? Had she adopted a feral appearance to take him now, while he was still living?

Apparently not, since the creature pushed him toward a sandbar. Feebly he was able to climb through the shallows and reach it before the crocodile sank back into the water. He spat more water out of his muzzle, then turned back toward the boat. It was now in two parts and sinking into the river. The crew seemed to be swimming away, and on the stern stood the captain, hand still on the tiller. The baboon’s eyes were full of panic, but his gaze was fixed on Idu.

Idu had lifted his hands up, and the jackal was intoning words. It was not a prayer to Anubis or the other gods, but directions to the simpler animals of the world. The crocodile surfaced, and Idu stepped onto its back carefully, thanking it for this as he did.

The baboon jumped into the water and started swimming away from the boat as the whirlpool pulled it apart. Idu rode the crocodile to the sandbar, and then gingerly got off, only getting his paws wet. “Nehi, you’re safe!” he exclaimed.

Nehi was soaking wet and shaking from the experience. His heart raced from excitement and fear at what had just happened. “You saved me,” he murmured.

“Yes, I…” Idu paused, and looked at the sinking ship. “I asked for help,” he said, turning back to the other jackal and leaning down to offer Nehi one of his paws. In the other paw he had the bag.

Nehi took it and was pulled up. One of his footpaws was twisted, but it didn’t seem to be broken. “You could have let Thoth take me.”

Idu’s ears went down. “He caused this?”

Nehi nodded. “I think so. Already the whirlpool seems to be disappearing.”

Idu turned. The rapid that had taken the ship was vanishing. The other jackal took a deep breath. “We promised to return the book together. Thoth will have to take us both at once, or let us serve him.”

Nehi lowered his ears. “We should make for the temple quickly and find Sadah.”

The sudden sinking was drawing attention, for other people were coming. A reed boat was approaching them, a jackal fisherwoman pushing it through the water. The baboon and crew seemed to have swum in the opposite direction and some were already on the shore.

“Yes, let’s hurry, and hopefully no one saw too much,” said Idu, before he called out to the approaching jackal. “Could you give us a lift?”

The woman on the boat nodded as she worked her way toward them.

“Quick, give me the bag,” whispered Nehi, “and jump in the water when she approaches. I know the baboon saw what you did, but she might not have. You need to be completely wet if we’re to get to shore and escape this.”

“Good thinking,” said Idu, with a whisper, handing over the bag. He then clambered into the water, in front of the boat. “Thank you so much,” he called out to the fisherwoman.

She poled over. “Aye,” she said when she got nearby. “Just as the sun rises, I am here to help. It is strange to see a sudden sinking like that. Here, let me pull up and you can climb on. I can get you both over to the bank in one trip.”

“Thank you,” said Idu. “The sooner we’re off the river, the better.”

#

Once on the shore, they disappeared into the streets of Men-nefer soaking wet, heading straight to the temple of Thoth. Many people were hurrying toward the docks because of the commotion the sudden whirlpool had caused, so they were able to quickly slip away, tails between their legs. They didn’t wait for the baboon or any of his crew to ask them about what had happened.

At the temple there was a stir that two soaking wet lector priests of Anubis had come from Saka, and word spread quickly through the complex. Once Sadah heard they were there, she came and took charge of them.

“I know these two well. Please, let me see to them,” she told her head priest, who bowed and let her take them to her quarters to be dried off and cleaned up. She bandaged Nehi’s twisted paw, and only when they were all alone in her quarters and the cheetah had poured wine for all three of them to sit back and enjoy, did they finally open up to the purpose of their visit.

“You are lucky to have escaped the sinking so easily. It is a curious sight to see something like that,” she remarked.

“It is unnatural,” replied Nehi.

The cheetah tilted her head and lifted her cup. “Possibly. I did not receive word you would be coming.”

“We made the trip unexpectedly,” said Idu. “We have business to attend to here.”

“Ah. Do you need an audience with the high priest or is there a matter of religious law in the seventeenth nome that requires divine guidance?”

“We need guidance, but the issue is one best handled with discretion,” said Nehi. “I trust no one with this but you.”

Sadah took a sip of her wine and lashed her tail. “Intriguing. So, it is a religious dispute.”

“Of a kind,” said Nehi, pulling out scroll from the bag he was carrying, and setting it down on the table in front of them. “This was left as a donation recently with the barley for our Temple’s granary. We need to return it to its home.”

The cheetah reached for the scroll. “What’s so special about this?”

“It’s the Book of Thoth,” said Idu.

She took a sharp breath and drew back. Her tail grew suddenly still. “Are you sure?”

“The first spell gives you the ability to understand the speech of the birds and the simpler beasts,” said Idu. “It was quite helpful today in rescuing Nehi.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, eyes narrowing to slits.

“When the boat was caught in a whirlpool, I asked a crocodile to carry him to safety, and it did. I then rode that crocodile over to the sandbar.”

She inhaled sharply. “So he did find it.”

Idu’s ears perked. “Who found it?”

“A few months ago, a lion came to the Temple of Thoth asking questions about the book. I thought him a fool myself, but he seems to have found the scroll.”

“Where is this lion?” asked Nehi.

“I have no idea. It surprises me though that he would part so easily with it.”

“The scroll is cursed,” said Nehi. “The whirlpool was no accident. Thoth seeks it back. We must return it to the tomb of Naneferkaptah at once, before the moon reaches full.”

“That is not so easy. I cannot tell you where the tomb is exactly. It is said that Setne, one of the many sons of Ramses II, took the Book of Thoth from the tomb of Naneferkaptah over a hundred years ago. He returned it after Naneferkaptah haunted him, and Setne had the tomb sealed up. Since then, it has been lost. It is rumored to be somewhere in one the necropolises that surrounds the city.”

“If this lion can find it, it cannot be hidden anymore. Have there been any reported tomb robberies in the last month or two?” asked Idu.

“I can ask, but the type of power a scroll like this gives is something a sorcerer would seek out. It’s possible he already knew some magic and could have covered his tracks well. The necropolises are not guarded like the Valley of the Kings is. The pharaohs of old built their tombs over quite a vast area.”

“The moon is full tomorrow, and already Thoth has tried to kill me once, and haunts our dreams,” replied Nehi.

“Can we just give it to you?’ asked Idu.

She laughed. “Knowledge like that is not for us mortals. I’d suggest burning the scroll, but that wouldn’t mollify Thoth.” Sadah stood up. “Let me see what I can do. Please, make yourselves comfortable, and I will make some discreet inquiries.”

“Thank you,” said Nehi, as he sat back and sighed. Sadah left the room, and Idu and Nehi exchanged glances.

“I hope she can find something out,” remarked Idu. “We have very little time left.”

Nehi’s ears went back and he picked at the tip of his tail with a claw. “Me too. May Thoth be merciful with us.”

#

It wasn’t until the next afternoon that Sadah had anything useful to go on, and even then, what she learned was not particularly detailed. There had been a strange tomb robbery noted a distance from the city, out in the desert. Great piles of sand had been shifted suddenly and shepherds passing through the area had noticed it. This, combined with the strange sorcerer seen riding the crocodile the day before, had the city of Men-nefer abuzz with rumors and speculation. At least one account said that Anubis himself was visiting the city along with Ammit, and those who had attempted to deceive the gods would be swiftly punished.

“Colorful,” was all Idu could offer, as they walked through the city toward its outskirts in the afternoon sun. The heat of the day kept many inside their mudbrick homes and workshops, and the streets were quiet. The city’s craftspeople worked in the shade if they could; there was only so much panting you could do to stay cool.

Nehi chuckled. “You would think tan fur would not be mistaken for black.”

“It’s in the ears,” purred Sadah. “Had you been a cat, they’d have thought you were Bastet herself come to visit with the mortals.”

Nehi shook his head. “This entire situation is far too fanciful and wrong for me to understand it anymore.”

“We’ll fix it,” said Sadah, a shovel over her shoulder. “We need to find a broken stele of basalt in the western necropolis. The scribe I talked to said the tomb is marked by that.”

“What if the tomb is buried again?” asked Idu.

“We dig,” said Nehi, “like desperate tomb robbers.”

Idu barked, amused. “And here we’ve been dedicating ourselves to protecting tombs and seeing people are taken care of correctly so they can make their journey through the afterlife. Now we’re attempting to break into a tomb.”

“Consider it a form of restoration,” replied Sadah. “We restore the book to its rightful place, and if Thoth wants it to stay hidden, he’ll make sure the tomb is buried. We’ll pray to both Anubis and Thoth when we’re done to erase that cursed place from the eyes of mortals forever.”

#

With the full moon being that very night, they hurried out into the desert. While they had a general sense of where the tomb was supposed to be, nothing was obvious when they reached the vicinity. Old mastabas dotted the desert and nearby cliffs had tombs cut into them, but nothing looked to be recently disturbed, and the broken stele could not be located. They searched, moving as quickly as they could with Nehi favoring one footpaw, but the sun sank lower and lower, heralding the coming of night.

A few hours in, they stopped to drink from their water skins and catch their bearings.

“There’s nothing here,” said Idu. “What did they say to look for again?”

“A curious pile of sand and a broken stele of basalt. You would think dark stone would show up in a sandy landscape like this,” said Sadah.

Nehi shaded his eyes and looked out over the desert. There were more mastabas in the distance, but nothing was obviously disturbed. “The sands could have already shifted.” He pointed off toward the horizon where clouds were piling up to the north. “It looks like a storm is blowing in too. Something like that could have easily buried the tomb entrance.”

Sadah glanced to the north and the growing clouds, before scanning the area more. “You mean like a sandstorm?”

“Yeah, a sandstorm would do it,” said Nehi, still squinting into the distance. “Are you sure it’s within sight of this incomplete pyramid?”

“That’s what I was told,” she said.

While Nehi looked around, Idu had fixed his gaze on the northern horizon, and his ears were back. “That’s not just any storm out there. That is a sandstorm, and it’s quickly moving this way.”

Sadah and Nehi’s attention were drawn back to the north. Already the clouds seemed to be advancing toward them with surprising speed.

“We need to find the entrance quickly,” Nehi said, starting to panic, and he set off.

“We should seek shelter,” suggested Sadah.

Idu squinted at the coming maelstrom as lightning flashed in it. “This is no natural storm. It’s Thoth’s doing.”

Nehi had climbed onto a small outcropping of stone twenty feet away, trying to get a better vantage point. “If it’s Thoth’s doing, we have to be close,” he called out, scanning the horizon.

“Regardless, we need shelter,” said Sadah. “There’s no way we’ll find the stele once that hits.”

The wind was picking up and the sand started to blow, even though the storm was still distant. Idu walked toward the storm and paused as it whipped dust around him. He turned and found himself sinking into the ground. “Give me a minute. It seems the sand here is very fine,” he called out, having to pick up his footpaws.

Sadah was going to join Nehi on the outcropping of rock, but she paused, noticing Idu was struggling. “You okay over there?” the cheetah asked.

Idu was trying to move, but he found it increasingly difficult. His footpaws were quickly sinking into the sand. “No, I’m not.”

Sadah scrambled over quickly trying to reach Idu. “Give me your paw, Idu,” she said, wading through the fine sand toward him, and then having to back up.

The more the jackal moved, the faster he sank, and he was quickly up to his waist. Sand from the maelstrom was stinging his face. “It’s another one of Thoth’s traps!” He barked in alarm as he desperately trying to climb back on top of the sand.

“Idu!” Nehi screamed in panic, having had to climb down from the outcropping. “Fight it!” he said, rushing past Sadah, trying to grasp Idu as he flailed around.

“Nehi,” he groaned as the sand continued to pull him down. Their digits touched, but they couldn’t get a grasp on each other. “Go on…”

“No, I can’t lose you,” the jackal cried out, but the wind ripped his words away as he fumbled to hold onto his love.

“Our kas will meet again,” Idu sobbed, as his paw slipped from Nehi’s, and he sank up to his shoulders.

“No!” Nehi growled. “I didn’t ask for this. Neither of us did.” His own footpaws were almost buried up to his knees as he struggled to reach Idu.

Sadah grabbed him and started yanking Nehi back. “If you keep trying to grab him, you’ll be joining him!” He fought her, but when Idu‘s muzzle vanished below the sand, he let her pull him to safety.

“If we locate the tomb quickly, he might be okay.” Sadah offered.

“The tomb could be anywhere,” he growled. “There’s only one thing left to do,” Nehi said, reaching into the bag and pulled out the Book of Thoth.

“What are you doing?”

“Asking the gods directly,” he snarled, and unrolled the scroll to the second spell and started to read. The wind that whipped at him took on an ominous hiss.

“Nehi…” said Sadah.

He shook his head and kept reading, and when he reached the end of the spell, he looked up. Even though the storm had engulfed them, he could still see the sun in the west, or he could have. The sun wasn’t there anymore. Instead, Ra sat on his solar barque, guiding it through the sky. On top of his head was the sun disk, along with a cobra wrapped protectively around it.

Nehi took a deep breath. He could see the gods now, which meant he could speak to them. He dropped the scroll and knelt down.

“Foremost of the Westerners, Master of Secrets, the Dog Who Swallowed Millions, I call to you now! I have served you faithfully and kept your sanctuary clean. I have lit the incense and worshiped you, and tended to the tombs and temples under your protection. I have collected the dues of your fields and stored the grain to feed your priests and scribes. As appointed by Pharaoh, ruler of the two lands, I have served you as is your due,” he called out.

Sadah realized what he was doing and knelt down next to Nehi.

“Foremost of the Westerners,” Nehi said.

“Master of Secrets,” Sadah added.

“The Dog Who Swallowed Millions, we call to you now!” they chanted together.

The sandstorm that was bearing down on them parted, and a figure of a jackal stood among the dunes.

“Foremost of the Westerners, Master of Secrets, the Dog Who Swallowed Millions, we call to you now!” they intoned.

Out of the dunes he came, striding forward with fur as black as night that swallowed the light of day. He carried an ankh in one hand. He raised the other and the sand that had swallowed Idu gave him up, and suddenly Idu was on the ground gasping. The storm that had attempted to swallow them abated.

“Master,” said Nehi, bowing low.

Sadah also bowed. She had not seen him at first, but suddenly he was there, having revealed himself to the other mortals.

“Rise, my priest. Why have you risked the wrath of Thoth,” spoke Anubis.

“I seek only to return what is his.”

“And yet you read from my scroll willingly,” said a voice from behind.

The ibis was there also, his eyes smoldering with rage.

“Please your holiness, let us give this back to you,” said Nehi, bowing again.

“My lord,” said Sadah, also bowing.

“I’d have thought better of you, Sadah, getting caught up with these two,” said Thoth. “Tomb robbers they seek to be now.”

“We seek only to restore what is yours,” she said.

Idu had gotten back to a seating position and had managed to get his senses back. “We do not wish to keep this knowledge; we wish only to give it back to you.”

“How can I know you speak truth without having Anubis weigh your hearts?” asked Thoth.

“We are willing to be judged and speak the negative confessions,” said Idu, bowing low.

“Yes, we are. You may judge us, and if we are worthy, we shall go to Aaru and live in the field of reeds. If we are unworthy, you may summon Ammit,” bowed Nehi.

“I also will submit to judgement if that is your wish, my lord,” said Sadah, bowing low.

Anubis looked at the priests and then back to Thoth. “You could have taken the book on the boat and not done this with my priests,” he said. “You knew they journeyed north to place your book where they thought you wanted it to be.”

“Lessons, my friend. Lessons. I have asked Ptah to allow me to enact divine judgement on any who have stolen my knowledge, and he granted it to me. These two jackals are thieves.”

“Sadah is your priest, and you may punish her as you see fit, but you have no right to my priests if I deem them not ready to go to Aaru,” said Anubis. “They have come to give back what is yours.”

“And yet they have a bit of knowledge they should not,” said the ibis. “Knowledge given cannot be taken away except by forgetfulness. You will weigh their hearts, and I will record if they are pure of heart,” he said. A reed pen along with a papyrus appeared in Thoth’s hands.

Anubis was silent for a moment, considering. “They have not prepared for this test.”

The ibis lowered his beak. “I ask you to weigh their hearts now, for the knowledge Nehi and Idu have obtained is not for mortals to know. As the Master of Secrets, you must protect this knowledge.”

Anubis’s ears flicked and he nodded. “As you wish.” He swept his hands and suddenly they were no longer in the desert. Instead, they were all standing in the Hall of the Two Truths, before the scales for weighing the hearts of the dead. In his hand Anubis now held the feather of Ma’at, and behind Thoth another was present, silent, and hungry.

The goddess Ammit stood there beyond the light of the room, lurking in the shadows, waiting to be fed. Only her mouth was clearly visible, and it was agape just enough to show all the teeth in her large, crocodilian snout.

“I will weigh Sadah’s heart first,” said Anubis.

“Very well,” said Thoth.

The black jackal walked over to the cheetah, and she tried not to tremble before him. “I will need to reach inside of you. When I remove it, you will feel lifeless. Do you understand?” asked Anubis.

She nodded, tail twitching with nervousness, ears back. “Yes, my lord.”

Anubis reached toward her chest and then through it as if it was not a solid thing, and his paw closed around her heart. With a tug, he pulled, and her heart was removed. She staggered, and her tail fell still. Her ears drooped, and yet her chest showed no wound. When Anubis pulled his hand out, the heart beat with life, awaiting its judgement.

The black jackal walked over and placed the feather of Ma’at on one side of the scale and then the heart on the other. He knelt to adjust the scales as Thoth wrote her name down.

In the meantime, Sadah began to whisper to herself the negative confessions. “I have not done crimes against people. I have not mistreated cattle. I have not sinned in the Place of Truth. I have not known what should not be known…”

Carefully Idu slid next to Nehi and whispered into his ear. “We can’t do the negative confessions. We know what should not be known.”

Nehi, who had been watching, turned to whisper back. “I know. They both know this.”

They all waited for Sadah to finish, and Anubis stepped back from adjusting the scales. The feather was heavier than the cheetah’s heart!

“Sadah has committed no crimes against the gods,” intoned Anubis, picking up her heart. “I return her first life to her so that she may continue to live, and when she dies, I will weigh her heart again so that she may pass on to Aaru and dwell in the field of reeds.”

“So be it,” said Thoth, making a note on the papyrus. “She is pure.”

Anubis walked back and reached back inside of her chest, repeating an ancient word of power, and she jumped suddenly, all of her fur shooting up. He pulled back his hand and the heart was gone. Then he looked at Nehi and Idu. “Nehi?” he asked.

The jackal bowed his head. “Yes, my lord.”

Anubis walked over and repeated the motion he’d done on Sadah and pulled Nehi’s beating heart from his chest. Nehi felt his body go cold and all the blood in his body froze. Then he watched as Anubis walked over and placed the heart on the scale. He knelt and adjusted the scales.

Nehi started on the confessions. “I have not done crimes against people. I have not mistreated cattle. I have not sinned in the Place of Truth.” He paused. “I have not known what should not be known.”

The scales tilted as his heart betrayed him and sank. This is it, thought Nehi.

“Nehi is not worthy of Aaru,” said Thoth. “Ammit shall eat his ka, and he shall pass into nothing.”

There was a murmur of satisfaction from the shadows, but Anubis stood up from the scales. “Take the knowledge back, Thoth, and let him repeat the confession.”

Thoth seethed. “Why should I?”

“They are my priests, and they were serving me. I judge their actions as extraordinary, but necessary. You may note that down.”

The two gods stared at each other, eyes locked. No one moved. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Thoth shook his head and relented. With a scowl, he stalked over and touched the heart. He said something magical and pulled back. “Very well. Repeat the confession,” ordered Thoth to Nehi. He then marked the irregularity down on the paper, as Anubis rebalanced the scale.

“I have not known what should not be known.” The scales remained balanced, and Nehi’s voice caught in his chest.

“Go on,” said Thoth.

Nehi took as deep a breath as his now lifeless body could. “I have not done any harm. I did not begin a day by exacting more than my due…” The scales stayed balanced until he finished all of the negative confessions.

Anubis stepped back from the scales. The feather remained heavier than his heart.

“Nehi has committed no crimes against the gods,” said Anubis, turning to Thoth.

“So it is noted,” said Thoth with just a hint of remorse. “Return his heart, and weigh Idu’s.”

Anubis walked back to Nehi and returned his heart. Nehi gasped as his life was returned. Anubis then went to Idu and took his heart. This time though, before he set the heart upon the scale, Thoth took the knowledge back, and they went through the ritual with Idu reciting the negative confessions.

Anubis stepped back and the scales stayed balanced.

“Idu has committed no crimes against the gods,” said Anubis, taking the heart back. “I will return him and Nehi to life, so that they may live, and we will judge them again when they die. If worthy, they shall go to Aaru. Are you satisfied, Thoth?”

The ibis was quiet for a bit. “You have the scroll?” he asked the two mortal jackals.

“I did, but I dropped it when I went to call to Anubis,” said Nehi. The jackal blinked and the scroll was suddenly in his hand again.

“Give me the scroll, and the matter will be concluded.”

Nehi held it out and Thoth reached over to take it. Nehi felt claws against his chest, but they released as Thoth hefted the scroll from his paw and stepped back. The ibis said nothing, and just regarded the mortal carefully.

“Very well,” said Anubis. “It is done. We will go now,” and with that, Nehi, Idu, and Sadah were no longer in the Hall of the Two Truths.

#

They were lying in the desert under the full moon alone, their bodies drained. Idu and Sadah groaned as Nehi slowly sat up. The moon was full, and in the distance, insects buzzed, but Nehi could not tell what they were saying.

“It’s over,” he said, “but oh gods do I have a splitting headache.”

Idu sat up and felt around for the bag he was carrying, He opened it to check. “The scroll is gone.”

“I feel like I’ve died,” said Sadah.

“I think we all feel that way,” said Nehi, brushing sand out of his fur.

Idu crawled over to his love and hugged him. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“You’re welcome,” Nehi replied, rubbing his muzzle against Idu’s muzzle. Their bodies were warm in the cool night air. Judgement had been rendered against them and they had survived. “As I said, we’d do this together,” he whispered.

Idu’s ears just lowered, and he held Nehi for a long time, until Sadah finally got them to separate so they could all journey back to Men-nefer.