Read 24 Bones for Free Online

more kindling than most.”
    Faris’s fists balled at his sides. He stared at Askari, hating him for connecting his unspoken thoughts, yet wanting to embrace him for his implicit acceptance of him as a companion, not merely a flawed watcher.
    “Come,” Askari motioned toward the temple, “it is time for the deir to meet. What is left of us.”
    The last of the living had entered the temple ahead of them, leaving only the sweet stink of death. Faris followed Askari, who strode toward the temple steps. As they pushed through the doors, shouts and screams issued from the holy core.
    In the first chamber of the temple, the Hall of Offerings, beer, bread, and water were sacrificed to Re on a small altar. On the wall, sunbeams streaming through ceiling-vents traced bas-reliefs of Re’s journey. Beyond an arch, corridors led to the left and to the right; along this passage were nine chapels, each consecrated to a god of the Egyptian Ennead. The Hall of the Ennead framed the inner sanctum. Here, men argued.
    The breach of silence in the chamber of Re somehow defeated Faris, and tears flowed down his cheeks. He ran a sleeve across his face. On the inner sanctum’s altar was a broken vessel; the sacred boat upon which Re journeyed lay in fragments. Planks were scattered over the floor, discarded oars and a gilded prow amongst them. Replacing the Boat of a Million Years was a dead falcon lying above four simple circles carven into the sides of the tapered altar.
    “Are the other birds dead?” Askari asked.
    “Most,” an older man named Shen replied. “Those who were at work during the culling are safe.” Shen’s face was plump, but grooved with wrinkles that radiated from a bulbous nose and grim lips.
    Askari hugged Shen. His eyes, normally kind, were red and puffy. Shen stroked the dead falcon’s tail feathers with a leather falconer’s gauntlet. The falcons were both symbols of Horus’s power and an important part of the deir’s communication network, many of the monasteries being desert based and without basic telephone service.
    Askari addressed the dozen men. “We will begin immediately to rebuild the flock and request help from other deirs in doing so.”
    Faris hung back at the outer arch of the sanctum, standing at its threshold. It was the first time he had set foot on its raised floor. The story of Horus, Osiris, Isis, and Seth played out upon its walls.
    “The other deirs journey here for the Akhet holiday,” Askari continued. “We wait for the high priests to meet and guide us.” Their deir’s high priest lay headless in the courtyard. If Re so chose, high priest was a position both Askari and Haidar would be honored to fill.
    As Faris studied those around the altar, he suddenly recognized a pattern to the murders.
    “You’re all old.” His hand clapped over his mouth. All eyes turned. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
    “No,” Askari said, nodding. “You’re right. Who here is the youngest companion?”
    Habib stepped forward, the youngest at forty-nine.
    “What reason could they have to kill the youth and leave the wise?” Haidar asked.
    “Age is not necessarily an indicator of wisdom,” Askari cautioned. Faris cringed. Haidar was five years older than Askari. “They know something that we do not, or else they would kill us all.”
    “The balance. Even the Shemsu Seth understand the need for balance.” Mohammed spoke, the man Faris had seen shuffle inside the temple before him. Mohammed’s back bent so steeply he perpetually contemplated the floor.
    Haidar pumped a fist. “And to maintain that balance we need to strike.” Several companions nodded, as did Faris.
    “Brothers,” Askari calmed, “let us first gather our strength, assemble the Spine of Osiris, and discover what it is we fight back against.”
    “Why?” demanded Haidar. “We know their lair. Let us kill their youth. Let Shen kill Seth’s puppies. And let us place their sacred crocodile, Sobek, on their altar.”