Page 22 of A Thousand Nights Before Dawn
“I do not recall doing that.”
Zahra noticed the annoyance in his tone, but she couldn’t bear the silence of the maze they were walking through. “My apologies. Yesterday, you introduced yourself as Namir.”
He paused, and Zahra threw her arms out as she slid to a stop. “I suppose I did.” The hallway grew colder as Namir turned to her. Sternness sat in his features. “Namir is my name, yes, but let me remind you that I am still your king. I told you my namebecause it was necessary. Even though we are working together, you will address me with my title. Is that understood?”
Zahra stared into Namir’s black eyes. Feelings of terror and anger fought within her, but she shoved both away. “I understand, my King.”
“Good.” Namir resumed his course.
Another set of stairs awaited them, leading them further into the earth. She rubbed her arms, eager to escape the cold and darkness.
Namir turned down a hallway, and they were met with a dead end. He handed the oil lamp to Zahra and approached the wall. She remained silent as he placed his palm on the wall, running his hand along the cold stone. After several moments of inspection, he removed the key from the scroll, slipped it between the stones, and turned it.
The wall jolted and groaned, and Namir latched his fingers onto an invisible edge. He pulled the wall out, revealing a heavy metal door with a complicated lock. Namir took the oil lamp from Zahra and held it under the open scroll, which hung loosely from one hand. Then, he started moving the pieces of the lock.
Zahra stepped forward, peeking past Namir’s tall frame. The papyrus, which had been blank earlier, was alive with color. Instructions and pictures of how to get past the lock’s mechanism detailed the page. “Incredible,” she whispered.
Namir shot her a warning glance, and Zahra stepped back. He moved the last part of the lock, and there was a click. He pushed open the door, revealing a well-lit room.
Zahra stepped inside after him, her eyes wide with wonder. The ten-by-ten-foot room was filled with old stone shelves covered in scrolls and random objects. Most of the shelves sat against or close to the wall and held an assortment of papyri and stone records. In a corner stood a shelf containing stone boxes enforced with metal locks. The floors were littered with ancientembroidered carpets. In the center of the space sat a hardy stone table covered in gray dust.
Namir was curiously studying her face. He cleared his throat and turned away once she saw him, holding out the oil lamp for her to take. “I will need extra light over here.”
Zahra let out a heavy sigh, took the oil lamp, and followed him. She studied the shelves with interest as she followed Namir. “What is this place?”
“A collection of information and artifacts passed down since the first Pharaohs,” Namir explained, picking up a scroll. He read it for a few moments before shaking his head and returning it to its place. “If there is a way to find my bride through magic, I will find it here.”
Zahra’s chest grew tight, and her voice came out small. “Magic?”
Namir glanced at her. “Do not act so surprised. It is common knowledge that the Pharaohs use magic to protect the kingdom.”
“Yes, but?—”
Zahra bit her tongue. There were stories of Pharaohs of past using Re’s magic to protect the people, but those stories were centuries old. It was hard to imagine the current Pharaoh Queen using it, and it terrified Zahra to think of what magical secrets could be hidden in these walls.
Namir scoured the shelves. He plucked scroll after scroll from its place, but promptly put each back as he quickly read the contents. Finally, he pulled out a frail scroll. As he opened it, two pieces of papyrus fell. Namir caught one of them, but the other floated out of sight, and he did not move to chase it.
The papyrus he had caught was newer than the scroll that contained it. Zahra peeked over his shoulder. She narrowed her eyes at the faint scribbles of Hieratic—Aur’s script. “The Last Gift of Re.”
Namir turned to her, his eyebrows raised. “You can read?”
Zahra scoffed. “Of course I can.”
“I am surprised,” Namir said. “I thought your people could only read Ionic.”
Zahra gritted her teeth, stepping back. “We are capable of learning to read other things.” Namir raised his eyebrows, and bitterness laced her voice as she added, “My King.”
Namir ignored her tone and turned back to the old scroll. “It tells the same tale I told you about Re’s gift to the Pharaohs.”
Zahra leaned forward once more. The newer papyrus appeared to be a translation of the original writing, which was in a different language and much older. Among the original writings were pictures. The paintings depicted the story Namir had told her. Re, who had the head of a falcon and bore a crown like the sun, held out a purple sandglass for a man and woman to take, both ordained with the symbols of Pharaoh.
This proved what she already knew: Her father had stolen the Thoth.
Namir moved to the table, and Zahra followed, keen on learning more. She watched over his shoulder as he studied the translation and the original work. The illustrations continued down the papyrus, showing the Thoth being handed down for generations. Illustrations of kings and queens were shown, each dancing in a sphere of worthy women or men. Within each, there was a woman or man outlined in gold, with her or his gaze focused on the royal couple.
Zahra studied the purple sandglass in the painting further. If only she could figure out why her father was stealing the Thoth,it would be easier to stop him from stealing it at all. She glanced at Namir. He wouldn’t willingly volunteer more information about the Thoth. It had been a wonder why he had brought her along at all, when all she had done was hold things for him.
Zahra focused on the markings on the old papyrus. She couldn’t remember the name of the language—it had been manyyears since her father discussed ancient languages at depth with her—but she recalled a few of the glyphs.
