Heretic of the Nile

Epilogue

Mereneith stood in the temple's crystal vault, surveying the neat array of clay pots that surrounded her. She picked up a single Ak'heka crystal from its nest and held it up in front of her eyes. It was almost the size of her fist—one of the largest that they had managed to grow in recent days. Today she had been tasked to select the most impressive ones for display, because the festival of Wepet Renpet was upon them once again.

A full harvest cycle had come and gone.

"Take these up to the inner sanctum and give them to Nephi. He'll know what to do," she said to the young priest who was trailing behind her holding a basket filled with crystals. She dropped the one she was holding along with the others and sent him on his way.

With that, her job was complete and she could be left in peace for the rest of the festivities, while the rest of the temple continued to bustle in preparation for tomorrow's rituals. She was grateful for the quiet and stillness of the vault as she walked down its narrow aisles to do a final check on her crystals.

"Never forget to check the water levels in each pot before you leave for the night, or else it's a whole round of wasted effort!"

Rekhmir would nag at her every other day because she was always too eager to abandon the vault to race to the riverbank for her nightly stargazing exploits. She could almost still see him standing there, rubbing his belly as he delivered his daily lecture.

I wish you were still here, Rekhmir.

If only she could hear his voice one more time, she would gladly endure another scolding.

She wrinkled up her nose and tried to ignore the sting of the tears in her eyes. He would not have wanted her to cry.

It would be Rekhmir's death anniversary in a few days and she had made plans to prepare his favourite food and wine. She hadn't been able to give him a proper send-off before, but she could afford that now with her income as chief crystal keeper. Rekhmir had always been a lover of the finer things in life, an irony given that he had chosen to dedicate his life to the priesthood.

"Are you almost done?" a voice interrupted her thoughts.

Mereneith spun around, smiling when she saw Kha standing at the vault entrance.

"The rituals aren't till tomorrow. Here to steal crystals again?" she teased.

It was about this time last year when she had first met him in this very place and accused him of being a petty thief. That seemed like such a long time ago now.

"As crown prince, I shall be inheriting every bit of the Two Lands, including this entire vault, so no, I don't think I'll be needing to steal anything."

Kha walked over, running his fingers along the sides of the clay receptacles. "I came because I have something for you," he said, stopping in front of her. There was a broad smile hanging on his face, and a cheerful twinkle in his eyes.

Mereneith held out an open palm. "What is it?" she asked.

The prince pulled out a scroll from behind his back and placed it in her hand. She quickly unfurled it and skimmed through the contents.

"Wait, isn't this—"

A chart that showed the results of careful experimentation, accompanied by detailed sketches of specific architectural designs. A house, a cart, a water wheel. Notes had been scribbled around the edges of the papyrus, revealing someone's intricate thought process.

She stared at Kha in disbelief.

"This belongs to Imhotep."

Kha nodded, jerking a thumb towards the exit. "There's a lot more where that came from. Two whole wagons actually," he said. "The viziers wanted to send them to the royal library, but I managed to convince them that the Great Temple might be a better home for these scrolls."

Mereneith shrieked, throwing her arms around Kha's neck in delight. She gave him a peck on the cheek and dashed for the stairs.

Above ground, two wagons piled with papyrus scrolls and stone tablets sat waiting, just as Kha had said. Imhotep's life work, unearthed from his tomb at Saqqara. There was a brilliance in there that she could scarcely imagine, and her heart sang at the thought that all of it was now in her possession, free for her to reference and learn from.

"One day you shall be greater than Imhotep could ever be," Kha said, emerging from the vault behind her. "The people of the Two Lands will witness your creations and revere them."

Mereneith scoffed. "People revere kings, not architects."

Everyone knew that the stepped pyramid in Saqqara belonged to King Djoser and marveled at its construction, yet few knew much about the man who had made it possible, beyond his name.

Not that it mattered to her. She could hardly care whether or not people knew about her or what she did, and she believed that someone as enlightened as Imhotep would have thought the same. Knowledge was an addiction, and the continuous discovery and invention of new, shiny things was what drove her.

"Although I must say, it's very useful to have a future king as a friend," she declared.

"A friend."

Mereneith had just picked up a stone tablet from the wagon to read its inscriptions when it was rudely plucked away and put aside. A hand snaked around her waist and pulled her in.

She glared at Kha in annoyance.

"Let go," she warned.

"Am I to understand that you find me less interesting than a bunch of scrolls from another man who died a hundred years ago?"

"I would think that much is obvious."

A mirthful grin tugged at the corners of Kha's lips as he tightened his grip on her. He lowered his face, bringing the tips of their noses within touching distance.

"Stop it," Mereneith hissed. "We're in the temple. Khalid will be back soon." She tilted her eyes to the side, hoping that her young disciple or any of the other priests wouldn't make a sudden appearance. The more she tried to push Kha away, the tighter he held on.

She gave up, letting out a loud sigh of exasperation.

"What do you want, Your Highness?"

"You said, in your exact words, that it would be 'very useful to have a future king as a friend'."

"And?"

"I took offense at that."

Mereneith struggled to keep up the stern face and contain her own laughter. Crown prince or not, Kha still had that childish streak in him—and she never wanted him to lose it, even while he bore the weight of the two crowns. It was a part of who he was, and she loved that about him.

But it was not the time for love. Perhaps it would never be the time, because he would be king one day, and she would be a servant of Ptah. A king could not marry a priestess. It was unheard of.

"Kha, please, this is really not the time to—"

Her protest was silenced by his lips pressing against hers, warm and fervent, forcing her to swallow the words back down her throat. Every thought was flushed out of her mind, and all she was allowed to think about was how he tasted like apple cakes and sweet dates.

It was the last night of the year, she told herself, and they could set aside reason for just one night.

When they finally parted, Mereneith turned away, desperate to hide the bright flush in her cheeks. Thankfully, Kha didn't tease her further. Instead, he intertwined his fingers with hers and looked up at the night sky.

"I'm scared, Mereneith," he said.

"Of what?"

"Of the responsibility that has been placed upon my shoulders. Of expectations that I might not be able to meet. Of failing."

She leaned her head on his shoulder and gave his hand a squeeze. "You will never be alone. I'll always be here," she said, repeating the words she had told him before.

Always was a long way away, but it was a promise she intended to keep it—as long as he would allow her to.

THE END