“Who is that?” Burton asked. “A pharaoh?”
“Shemsu Hor,” Kaji said. “A Guardian of Horus.”
Barton had studied some of the ancient Egyptian texts while in Cairo, and he knew that Horus was supposed to be the son of Isis and Osiris, the latter of whom was the supreme god of the underworld.
“And what does it say below?”
Kaji laughed, but it was not a pleasant sound. “The black box along the other Road of Rostau would destroy the Highland of Aker. That says that if one does not know what to do with what is inside the Hall within a certain amount of time, the entire world will be destroyed.”
Burton had no idea what the other man was talking about. “Let us go down.” Burton moved toward the stairs, but Kaji grabbed his arm, stopping him.
“I promised to show you the Hall. No one can enter.”
“Where are the Records?”
“The Records should be inside,” Kaji said. “But a key is needed to get into the Black Sphinx.”
“Where is this key?” Burton demanded.
“That information I do not have. There are several keys from the ancients, and each is important in its own right. When the key is brought here, then the bearer will be allowed to enter the Hall. The bearer must know where to take what they will find, or else darkness will descend. Until then, no one can enter.” Kaji turned toward the tunnel they had come out of. “We must go back.”
“I want… ” Burton paused He saw something in the other’s eyes. A look he had seen before in combat. A battle lust. It startled him; as far as he knew, he had done nothing to provoke such a reaction in the other man.
“We must go back,” Kaji repeated.
Burton nodded. “All right.” He would have to come back here with a fully funded expedition. He had to know what was in the Hall. He would have to find the key Kaji spoke of.
Kaji headed back up the tunnel, into the darkness. Burton looked back at the massive Black Sphinx crouched on the floor of the cavern guarding its secret and the statue of the Guardian of Horus between the paws. He walked forward, still looking over his shoulder, into the darkness. The last he saw were the red eyes of the Sphinx, glowing, before the black took him.
He was back in the tunnel.
“Quickly,” Kaji urged. “We must be out of the Great Pyramid before dawn.” Burton hurried to. follow, his mind swirling with what secrets might be hidden inside that massive statue he had just seen. The Black Sphinx itself was a magnificent find, one that would place his name among the ranks of other legendary explorers.
They slipped through a doorway. Up a runnel. Through another doorway that appeared out of the solid rock as Kaji placed his hand along the wall. Along a runnel. Another hand placed, another doorway as a block appeared and slid up. Kaji gestured with his free hand. “Go, go.”
Burton paused. This was not the way they had come. “You go first.”
Kaji grimaced, then stepped into the opening waving. “Come. Quickly! It will close soon.”
Burton dashed past the other man. He heard the stone move and grabbed the Arab, who was jumping the other way. They tumbled down in a heap, Kaji struggling to get away.
The stone slammed shut with a reverberating thud.
Kaji’s scream followed that noise. An undulating exclamation of pain and shock that died into a whimper.
Burton rolled onto his knees, lantern held in front, like an animal in a trap, Kaji lay on his side, his left hand caught under the door-stone. He was alive only because the stone was so smoothly cut and heavy, it had briefly sealed the arteries that flowed to the hand at the point of impact. But even as he crawled closer, Burton could see blood bursting out of the blocked veins at the wrist where it disappeared under the stone. The flesh and bone on the appendage had to be smashed flat by the immense weight. Kaji moaned in pain, staring at his arm in shock.
“Easy, old man, easy,” Burton said as he pulled off the belt that held his robe around the waist. He tied the leather band on Kaji’s upper arm to act as a tourniquet. He removed a dagger from the man’s waist, slid the handle through the knot, and twisted it, tightening the belt. Once he was sure he had the flow of blood stopped, Burton looped an end of the knot over the dagger’s handle to keep it in place.
“How do I open the stone?” Burton demanded, placing his hands on either side of Kaji’s face and trying to get his attention.
Kaji swallowed, speaking through his pain. “You cannot. We will die here together, Englishman. What you have seen this night will die here also.”
The wounds on Richard Francis Burton’s face grew even darker as anger gripped him. “You wanted to trap me here.”
“You are one of Al-Iblis’s minions. You must die.”
“I do not work for this Al-Iblis. I met him only once.”
“The medallion… it is one that is carried by my people, the wedjat. Al-Iblis kills my people. He took that off one of my comrades and gave it to you to try to find this place. He has tried many times, and always we have killed those he sends.”
“If I was doing Al-Iblis’s bidding, would I have mentioned his name?” Kaji closed his eyes in pain as he considered that logic.
“Is there another way out?” Burton swung the lantern, looking around. They were in not another tunnel, but a closed stone chamber. The open space was twenty feet long by ten wide. The ceiling was slightly taller than Burton’s six feet.
“No.” Kaji crushed Burton’s hope as effectively as his own hand had been. “This room is a dead end. The door opens only from the other side.”
“Who are you? Why have you done this?”
“I am the guardian of the Highland of Aker, what you call the Giza Plateau. I thought you were from Al-Iblis. You speak our tongue and many others. I have heard of your studies of the ancient texts in Mecca and Medina and in your own country. You are a unique man, and such people can be very dangerous. If words will not stop such men, my orders are to take more extreme measures.
“No man outside of my order has traveled into this place and lived to come back out. No man who does not have the key can be allowed to live after having been on the Roads of Rostau and seeing the Hall of Records. When someone tike you gets too close we bring him inside and leave him trapped, so that it appears as if he disappeared off the face of the planet.”
“Where do the other tunnels lead?” Burton demanded. “You have alluded to these other places. If I will not live to see them, then at least my ears can hear your tales of them.”
“I told you of those places to distract you,” Kaji said. “To whet your appetite so that you would come in here with me.”
“You have taken my life, then,” Burton said. “The least you could do is tell me what you know before we die.”
“I gave an oath, a most serious oath on my life, never to reveal the secrets I know until it is time.”
“If we die, then your secrets will not have been revealed,” Burton said. “You would net have broken your oath. You showed me the Black Sphinx knowing I would never be able to tell of what I saw. Let me know all of it. I was your guest. It is the law of Allah that you grant me this wish.” Burton had often used the law from the Koran to get help from the followers of Islam.
Kaji considered that line of reasoning. As he did, Burton took off his wool shirt and tucked it under the Arab’s head, making him more comfortable.
“I want your word, Englishman, that if by some miracle you survive me, you will never repeat the words I tell you or tell anyone what you have seen today. That you will never speak to Al-Iblis. I must have your promise before I speak. I was told you are a man of honor, and if you give me your word I will not have betrayed my oath. I kept my word of honor… I showed you what it was you sought. I did not promise that you should see it and live.”