Page 56 of Beyond the Ruby River
The Temple of Osiris rose impossibly high into the cornflower blue sky, its limestone pillars sturdy enough to bear the burdens of the people and even the gods themselves. A familiar refuge for Mahu, but perhaps an uncomfortable place for Daka.
“Are you all right?” asked Mahu as he approached the massive structure. “You’re quiet today.”
Daka turned his heavy gaze to Mahu and sighed. “I’m sad.”
“Don’t be. I feel good and haven’t had the urge to cough all morning. I’m not leaving you yet.” Even as Mahu said the words his mind went to the bloody cloth he’d thrown out yesterday. He knew the blood was a bad sign. He’d seen this omen before.
“But you will someday,” Daka whispered, his voice small, but Mahu heard anyway.
He bumped their shoulders. “Don’t be glum. We’re together now.”
Shining blue eyes met Mahu’s, though the frown on Daka’s face remained. “I’m glad to be with you. Thank you for letting me come.”
“You don’t mind the temple?” They climbed the stairs to the entrance.
“Should I?”
“I don’t know. Osiris is not your god. I thought you might be uneasy.”
“I’m worried for your sake, but I find the temple beautiful.”
Mahu wished Daka wouldn’t fret. He didn’t want his friends worrying either. Their anxious faces as he’d returned to the picnic after his coughing fit were etched into his memory. The concern. The fear. He’d have preferred to keep his ailing health to himself, but such secrets were impossible to keep.
A temple priest, clothed in a tan linen tunic, his bald head cleanly shaven, approached to welcome them. Mahu had known him since his early days as an initiate. He bowed his head then smiled warmly.
“Tenut. It’s good to see you.” Mahu gripped hands in greeting.
“And you, Mahu. How are you?” asked Tenut, his gentle voice soothing Mahu’s nerves.
“I’m well,” said Mahu out of habit.
Daka nudged him with an elbow. “He needs a doctor.”
Mahu glanced at him from the side of his eyes and capitulated. “Tenut, this is my partner, Dakarai, and he’s correct. We’ve come to see the suenu about a lingering cough I can’t seem to shake.”
“Welcome, Dakarai.” Tenut reached for Daka’s hands and thankfully Daka extended them. Not that Mahu thought he’d be rude, only that Daka had been acting strangely all morning. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“And you,” said Daka, but his voice came out flat.
“This way.” Tenut gestured farther into the temple.
They followed him past the massive statue of Osiris, who stared down at them as if eager to collect their souls. Mahu would gladly hand his up when his time came, though he couldn’t help but to hope for more happy days with Daka before the final exchange.
As he walked, he thought of Daka’s appalling offer. To have his vampire friend transform Mahu into a demon, to steal his soul away from his gods, to forever chain him to this life and prevent him from reaching the other side. He shivered. He could never allow such a thing, no matter how much he longed for more time.
Tenut rapped on a thick wooden door. Upon its facade was carved a depiction of Aaru, the field of reeds, the paradise of Osiris and a land under his rule. Mahu would walk among them someday.
“Come in,” called the head priest. A kind man, though serious, Mahu knew him as Herihor. He’d cared for Mahu’s family before they passed to the underworld.
Herihor sat behind a low table in his study surrounded by scrolls, papyri, and bits of dried plants. Shelves filled with mysterious jars of unknown contents lined the walls of the dark room. A complicated array of smells mixed so thoroughly as to make it impossible to pick out any one scent. Mahu’s nose itched.
Tenut took it upon himself to move two chairs closer to Herihor’s table. He gestured for Mahu and Daka to sit.
Herihor cleared his throat. “Greetings, Mahu.”
Mahu inclined his head. “Greetings, suenu. I’m in need of your healing.” He and Daka settled into the chairs.
Daka made no effort to hide his study of Herihor. He eyed the man with scrutiny. Mahu saw him with fresh eyes. An older priest wearing a full wig of plaited black hair over his bald head. Nut brown eyes, somewhat cloudy with age. His skin lined with wrinkles, his hands marked with sunspots, but his body remained strong. Herihor sat with his spine straight and his shoulders rolled back, his gaze passing from Mahu to Daka.
