As I tromped back to camp from another 'failed' expedition, a certain exhaustion overtook me; my legs massaged tender by the affections of yet another nubile, cinnamon-skinned goddesses. It was all so tiresome. With every derelict temple and pyramid, another lust-starved diva roused from her ancient slumber. Science had been my one true love, and as such, baser carnalities did not excite me; they were distractions. Yet with each expedition came the cloying touch of a tawny goddess. Our sultry sessions drained me of all energy, fatigue evident in the poor quality of my heavily redacted thesis papers.
I prayed that this survey would be different.
***
Delving deep into the sand-sunken rune of Hatshepsut's mortuary temple, I found myself in a small chamber with four walls and an altar carved from sandstone. The ceiling above had been decorated with painted papyrus reeds, giving the whole room an airy feeling. A single sarcophagus, tinted with faded golden leaf, sat on top of the altar. In front of it stood a statue of Amunhotep the Elder, its head crowned with two tall horns, its body draped in blue linen. Beside him was another figure: that of a beautiful young girl dressed in white.
Approaching the sepulcher, I prayed to find a desiccated corpse—lifeless in its burial shroud. But there was nothing; no trace remained of Princess Merykara, daughter of Pharaoh Akhenaten and Nefertiti. At first, I fancied myself lucky; at the very least I would not be sexually accosted by another Nubian beauty, eager to reacquaint herself with the pleasures of the flesh. What a fool I was.
"For a such a cute mortal to have found his way here," cooed a voice from behind, "you must have a crush on her."
Standing next to the altar—wearing a fine kilt of saffron and sporting jackal-like ears—was Thutmose, son of Ay, scion of the Eighteenth Dynasty. He smiled up at me, emerald eyes twinkling against the light of the braziers.
"She was a sweet child, but too much like her father," Thutmose began, positioning himself between myself and the sarcophagus, "Merykara never learned to appreciate the finer things in life." His gaze shifted to the alabaster statue. "At least she had her beauty."
Thutmose, as it appeared, was a shameless flirt.
"And you might be?" I paused, somewhat relieve by the presence of a male entity and not another diva in need of my ministrations, yet Thutmose's feminine gait soon eroded this comfort. "Who are you? A lover of hers? A servant?"
He chuckled. "Neither, I am not of Merykara's time, merely a humble admirer of her royal lineage."
I snorted. "Royal lineage, indeed. Now, speak plainly, spirit, why are you here?" In all my travels, the spirits that often inhabited these tombs only made themselves present only when they desired; Thutmose motives eluded me and I did not want to waste time talking about the past.
Thutmose shrugged, mascara-darkened eyes flittering with feigned innocence, "Perhaps I am drawn to your presence, for we are kindred souls. We both seek knowledge."
I crossed my arms over my chest. "Knowledge, hmm, you've have millennia to decipher the mysteries of your age. Why make yourself known to me?"
"Oh please, don't be coy, mortal." Thutmose closed the distance between us, a lithe smile dancing on his lips. He placed his hands on either side of my head. "I have always been fond of you, for you possess the qualities of a scholar. You're curious, inquisitive. It is no wonder you have been chosen by the gods to help me on my journey."
His fingers brushed my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine. I pushed his hands away. "Stop that. I am not interested frivolous pleasures; I have entreated myself to too many spirits as is."
"Then why are you here?" He cocked his head, one eyebrow raised. "Why do you keep coming back to Egypt?"
I sighed. "It's not so much the country itself, as the artifacts within. They are what I am after. But I suppose I am drawn to this place because of its history. I suppose I am a romantic at heart."
"Romantic, yes," Thutmose said, stepping closer. He caressed my cheek again. "But you know that is not the reason. There are others who share your sentiment, but none as passionate as you. I can feel it. Your blood stirs when you gaze upon our land. I have seen it in your eyes. And I have felt it in the touch of your hand. You yearn to explore this ancient realm. To discover secrets that lie buried beneath the sands. Do not lie to me, or yourself—does this form of mine excite you?"
Skin like sugared dates, dark and full, grazed my arm. Thutmose's eyes were darkened with a shimmering ebon mascara, accentuating the light of his emerald orbs. This was a true apparition, a ghost of the past. I had never met a living person with skin such as this. Thutmose's hand moved to my shoulder, then slipped behind my neck. I was trapped. "Yes."
Thutmose leaned close as he toyed with my sweat-soaked collar, "I can feel their ethereal aura still lingering upon you, the many goddesses of the Nile that have sampled your flesh, yet you have never taken a male lover? Is that true?"
"No," I answered, unable to look away from those haunting emerald eyes.
"A shame," not for a second did Thutmose break his hypnotic gaze, "for if you were to take a man to your bed, you would find pleasure unlike any other. Perhaps, then, it shall be I that leads you into a new world of ecstasy?"
A ragged moan caught in my throat, "I..."