3 Blood Lines Read Free Page B

At the head of the coffin was a representation of Setu, a minor god who stood guard in the tenth hour of Tuat, the underworld, and used a javelin to help Ra slay his enemies. At the foot of the coffin was a representation of Shemerthi, identical in all ways to the other guardian save that he used a bow. Small snakes, coiled and watchful, filled in the spaces that the great serpent left bare.
    In Egyptian mythology, serpents were the guardians of the underworld.
    As a work of art, it was beautiful; the colors so rich and vibrant that the artist might have finished work three hours instead of three millennia ago. As a window on history, the glass was cloudy at best.
    “If I have to hazard a guess,” Dr. Shane said thoughtfully, “I’d say, based on the cartouche and the workmanship, that this is Eighteenth Dynasty, not Sixteenth. In spite of the sarcophagus.”
    Dr. Rax had to agree with her even though he seemed incapable of forming a coherent observation of his own.
    It took them the rest of the day to photograph it, catalog it, and remove the seal of cedar gum that held the lid tightly in place.
    “Why this stuff hasn’t dried to a nice, easily removable powder, I have no idea.” Dr. Shane shook the kinks out of one stiff leg, and then the other. This had been the second day she’d spent mostly on her knees and, while it was a favored position of archaeologists, she’d never been a great believer in crippling herself for science.
    “It looks,” she added slowly, her hand stretching out but not quite touching one of the small serpents, “like something interred in this coffin was not supposed to get out.”
    One of the graduate students laughed, a high-pitched giggle quickly cut off.
    “Open it,” Dr. Rax commanded, through lips suddenly dry.
    In the silence that followed, the soft whir of the video camera sounded intrusively loud.
    Dr. Rax was not completely unaware of his subordinates’ shocked glances, both at each other and at him. He spread his hands and managed a smile. “Will any of us sleep tonight if we don’t?”
    Will any of us sleep tonight if we do? Dr. Shane found herself thinking, and wondered where the thought came from. “It’s late. We’ve all been working hard and now we’ve got a whole weekend ahead of us; why don’t we start fresh on Monday.”
    “We’ll only lift the lid.” He was using the voice he used to get funds out of the museum board, guaranteed to charm. Dr. Shane didn’t appreciate it being used on her. “And I think all that hard work deserves a look inside.”
    “What about Xrays?”
    “Later.” He pulled on a clean pair of gloves as he spoke, the action serving to hide the trembling of his hands. “As the handles that were used to lower the lid into place appear to have been removed, I will take the head. Ray,” he motioned to the largest of the researchers, “you will take the feet.”
    It could have stopped there, but when it came down to it, they were all anxious to see what the artifact held. As the assistant curator offered no further objections, Ray shrugged, pulled on a pair of gloves, and went to his place.
    “On three. One, two, three!”
    The lid lifted cleanly, heavier than it looked.
    “Ahhh.” The sound came involuntarily from half a dozen throats. Placing the lid carefully on another padded trestle, Dr. Rax, heart slamming painfully against his ribs, turned to see what might lie revealed.
    The mummy lay thickly swathed in ancient linen and the smell of cedar was almost overpowering—the inside of the casket had been lined with the aromatic wood. Someone sneezed although no one noticed who. A long strip of fabric, closely covered in scarlet hieroglyphs was wrapped around the body following the path the serpent had taken around the coffin. The mummy wore no death mask, but features were visible in relief through the cloth.
    The dry air of Egypt was good to the dead, preserving them for the future to study by leeching all the moisture from even