Eye of Hecate

Carter

The last couple of days I've seen a lot of crazy things, but the Hall of Ages takes the prize.

Double rows of stone pillars hold up a ceiling so high, you could park a blimp under it with no trouble. A shimmering blue carpet that looks like water runs down the center of the hall, which is so long, I can't see the end even though it's brightly lit. Balls of fire float around like helium basketballs, changing color whenever they bump into one another. Millions of tiny hieroglyphic symbols also drift through the air, randomly combining into words and then breaking apart.

I grab a pair of glowing red legs.

They walk across my palm before jumping off and dissolving.

But the weirdest things are the displays.

I don't know what else to call them. Between the columns on either side of us, images shift, coming into focus and then blurring out again like holograms in a sandstorm.

"Come on," Zia talls us. "And don't spend too much time looking."

It's impossible not to. The first twenty feet or so, the magical scenes cast a golden light across the hall. A blazing sun rises above an ocean. A mountain emerges from the water, and I have the feeling I'm watching the beginning of the world. Giants stride across the Nile Valley: a man with black skin and the head of a jackal, a lioness with bloody fangs, a beautiful woman with wings of light.

Sadie steps off the rug. In a trance, she reaches toward the images.

"Oh, gods! Stay on the carpet!" Ozzy grabs Sadie's hand and pulls her back toward the center of the hall. "You're seeing the Age of the Gods. No mortal should dwell on these images."

"But..." Sadie blinks. "They're only pictures, aren't they?"

"Memories," Ozzy says, "so powerful they could destroy your mind."

"Oh," Sadie says in a small voice.

We keep walking. The images change to silver. I see armies clashing—Egyptians in kilts and sandals and leather armor, fighting with spears. A tall, dark-skinned man in red-and-white armor places a double crown on his head: Narmer, the king who united Upper and Lower Egypt. Sadie was right: he does look a bit like Dad.

"This is the Old Kingdom," I guess. "The first great age of Egypt."

Zia nods. As we walk down the hall, we see workers building the first step pyramid out of stone. Another few steps, and the biggest pyramid of all rises from the desert at Giza. Its outer layer of smooth white casing stones gleams in the sun. Ten thousand workers gather at its base and kneel before the pharaoh, who raises his hands to the sun, dedicating his own tomb.

"Khufu," I say.

"The baboon?" Sadie asks, suddenly interested.

"No, the pharaoh who built the Great Pyramid," I say. "It was the tallest structure in the world for almost four thousand years."

Another few steps, and the images turn from silver to coppery.

"The Middle Kingdom," Ozzy tells us. "It was a bloody, chaotic time. But this is when the House of Life came to maturity."

The scenes shift more rapidly. We watch armies fighting, temples being built, ships sailing on the Nile, and magicians throwing fire. Every step covers hundreds of years, and yet the hall still goes on forever. For the first time I understand just how ancient Egypt is.

We cross another threshold, and the light turns bronze.

"The New Kingdom," I guess. "The last time Egypt was ruled by Egyptians."