Shards of Ankh

Chapter Five

"Have you ever had a dream so vivid it felt real?"

Ahmed paused from his work, looking across the workbench to Thea. They had begun the arduous task of assembling Vase Two. After a moment of scrutiny, Ahmed dropped his eyes back to the task at hand.

"I think everyone has at one point or another. Why do you ask?"

Thea laughed. "I dreamed about Ankh again."

Ahmed rose his eyebrows but didn't look at her. "Oh?"

"Yes. it's strange," she said, pausing a moment to longingly stare off into space. "It's the third night in a row. Every time I dream, I can smell Egypt. The scent sticks in my nose for hours afterwards."

Ahmed lifted his eyes to her. "Have you been to my home country?"

"But of course," Thea replied mockingly, referring to their first encounter. Ahmed caught on and snorted in amusement. "I studied abroad there for a year."

"And?"

"It was the best year of my life. I want to live there."

Ahmed shrugged. "Perhaps one day you shall."

"You know," Thea replied, picking up her work again, "I've considered it."

"What's stopping you?"

Thea shot him an incredulous look. "A white American woman in Egypt, in the current political climate and the general instability of the region in general?" She snorted. "No thanks."

Ahmed looked prideful and hurt. "You would be safe, I assure you. Egypt has so much to give, rife with a beautiful, complicated culture, monuments of beauty, an epicenter of shared knowledge. The landscape itself is breathtaking--"

"I'm not arguing with you," Thea cut him off. "Clearly I am extremely passionate about the land and its history. Its beauty is worth preserving. It's not not a good fit for me personally."

Ahmed paused and looked at her evenly. Then he frowned. "That's a pity."

"It really is," Thea agreed.

The day proceeded wordlessly. They paused for lunch like they did every day. Thea was eager to get back to work; the section she was working on was coming together nicely, and she was getting lovely bits and pieces of hieroglyphs that were complete enough to read. Her optimism grew; perhaps this vase wasn't Humpty Dumpty after all. 

Thea's enthusiasm waned in the afternoon, however. She became alarmed, reading and re-reading what she had discovered. Finally, at around four PM, she stopped her work, gawking in disbelief. Thea was so stunned she thought she might be sick.

"Are you alright?"

Thea's large eyes flew up to look at Ahmed, who was staring at her intently. She swallowed thickly and looked back down.

"How good are you at reading hieroglyphs?" 

"I am proficient," Ahmed replied, sliding off his stool. Deep concern etched onto his face.

"Please take a look at this, and tell me what you think."

Ahmed came around the table, viewing the small section Thea had connected. Her heart thudded in her chest; she knew what she saw, but she wanted a second pair of eyes to confirm it.

"Our ancients believed in the power of words," Ahmed muttered, almost to himself, his brow furrowed. "They believed that words, especially written words, could affect reality. Such grim things such as death and disparity were rarely outright written. Things were often eluded to."