By Rachel Ann Michael Harris
Ammon blinked, the flicking torchlight illuminating the stone walls covered in hieroglyphs. Pressure throbbed in his head, and he felt wrapped tighter than a cocoon. He groaned and pressed a hand to his head. Turning about, he surveyed every corner of the chamber filled with jars, gold, and jewels. This isn’t my room.
Behind him was a stone sarcophagus with a gold-covered coffin nestled inside. Shaped as a man, the coffin’s arms were crossed with a crook and flail—the symbols of Ammon’s authority—in each hand. Gleaming colored stones of red, blue, and green studded the body.
It wore a mask mirroring his face.
I’m dead? He stumbled back against the wall. If his stomach hadn’t been in a canopic jar, Ammon would’ve been sick. He was seventeen. How could he be dead?
Breathing deep, he calmed his heart—at least one thing was where it was supposed to be—and straightened. He was a pharaoh, king of Egypt. Panicking was unacceptable. Not when his people needed him.
But he was dead. What more could he do?
Pressing his hand on the wall, he traced the hieroglyphs and chiseled figures marching from ceiling to floor in neat lines with his nails. He did have one more task. Brushing his palm across the markings, he scanned for the beginning to the spells that would lead him to the afterlife.
“Problems, young king?” A sultry voice echoed against the stone.
Ammon whipped around and would’ve choked on his breath if his lungs weren’t in the jar next to his stomach.
On the other side of the chamber stood Ammit, her crocodile snout revealing rows of teeth as she smiled, and a thick lion’s mane surrounding her head like golden tresses. She held her lion-paw hands behind her back as she sauntered over to him. In that moment his only thought was, how could she walk so gracefully on hippopotamus feet?
“No.” His voice cracked slightly, and his heart trembled inside him.
“But there is.” She swept around his sarcophagus.
Ammon fingered the hieroglyphs behind him, desperately trying to distinguish their shape. Where is it? He wouldn’t let her see him falter, but panic clung to him.
“I’m afraid the one thing all pharaohs fear has come to pass. The priests weighed your heart… And the scales tipped.”
Biting his cheeks, he lifted his chin, trying to display the confidence he didn’t feel.
“They returned your heart and dutifully buried you as their king. Yet they knew just as I did the truth. You, your heart,” she said, her smile widening as she moved closer, “belongs to me.”
“You lie,” Ammon snapped.
Ammit continued to glide toward him as his hands scrambled over the solid, sheer walls. The words jumbled in his mind, barring him in the stone chamber.
“Your heart was too heavy. You will not see the afterlife.”
Ammon tripped and fell to his knees, a hand still flat against the hieroglyphs as his whole body shook.
“But what did they expect from a child king?”
Closing his eyes, Ammon laid his head against the cool stone.
“Young. Inexperienced. A disappointment to Egypt. What did you ever do for them? You couldn’t die fast enough.” Ammit chuckled. “Now a grand pharaoh will take your place. One memorialized for generations. A ruler worthy of their admiration. But not you.”
Ammon’s heart burned with the truth, spreading from his core to tips of his fingers.
Slapping the wall, he climbed to his feet and faced Ammit. “I might never have won glory for myself in battle by shedding my people’s blood, but I stood for Egypt. I never drank my fill while my people struggled in a drought. Never let them go hungry as I feasted. Never turned away a desperate plea that came to my throne. If that makes me inadequate, so be it. I did what was best for my people to grow and thrive. And I will never listen to a lying worm such as yourself.”
Ammit’s lips drew back in a snarl as she leapt at him.
Ammon squared his shoulders. If he truly belonged to her, he would face his destiny.
Before her teeth could clamp across his chest, a blur tackled her. She cried out as they tumbled to the floor. Tossing her away, the newcomer crouched between Ammon and Ammit, green arms spread wide with one hand holding a crook and another a flail.
Ammit glared at his defender then turned and disappeared into the shadows.
The man stood and turned to Ammon. He was wrapped in burial binding with an atef crown adorning his green head.
“Osiris?”
Without speaking, he led Ammon around the room. He tapped a hieroglyph with his flail which glowed bright, then waved Ammon toward it.
Tracing the carving, Ammon followed its path down, touching each symbol as he read, “You have not gone away dead but alive.” Pausing on it a moment, he reread the passage. Alive.
Reading aloud, Ammon followed the hieroglyphs one by one like stones within a river, guiding his path across. Flowing down the walls and into the outer chambers the spells went, through shrines filled with provisions and his belonging and down corridors until he came to his tomb’s entrance. Ammon stopped and turned to Osiris who nodded.
Ammon read the final words and passed through the seal bearing his cartouche.
He entered a temple with fires blazing in braziers, scented smoke filling the air as priests chanted. Heading toward the entrance, Ammon stepped into the sun’s burning light.
Blue sky stretched above as golden sand and fields of wheat spread before him. The din of a nearby harbor and the murmur of the river drifted on the breeze.
Life continued.
Turning back to the temple, the people’s inward pleas whispered in his ear. Egypt still needed him. His new duties to his people began. As he’d led them in life, he’d watch over them now in the afterlife forevermore.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
intriging insights into Egyptology. long live the Pharaoh.
Thank you so much. It was so fun to research and I learned a lot.
I liked this take on Egyptian kings and their short life spans!! At least Ammon’s . Nice use of Egyptian artifacts and details!
Thank you. It was such fun including the details of mummification. I particularly enjoyed writing the lines about the canopic jars. Maybe a little too much fun with those.
Cool story! Brought back some excellent memories of Egyptian history studies… ;)
Oh, wow. Egyptian history studies sounds like so much fun. I would have loved a class like that. Thank you so much for reading! Glad it brought back memories. <3
I like the Egyptian deities and their argument over his heart.
Thank you. Glad you enjoyed it.
Sounds to me like he accomplished more than most rulers. Glad he can continue to watch over his people!
Thank you, RJ.
Well done!
Thank you, Pamela!
Oh I loved this!! Love Egyptian mythology. Great job!
It was fun research Egyptian mythology for this story. Learned so much that I didn’t you. Glad you enjoyed it.
The setting was so vivid, and Ammon was such a sympathetic character! I agree with RJ Dib—I’m glad he can look after his people in the afterlife too! ^_^
Thank you, Beka! I’m glad the world came alive. Yes, his work is not done.
Nicely done!
I like it. I love the lines with feeling sick or breathless because of organs being in canopic jars.
Haha, thank you, Jessica. The canopic jar lines were my favorites to write.