Surrounded by soaring pillars, cyclopean blocks of masonry, drifted sand and numerous other tour groups, Lucy listened to the practised spiel of their guide while she let her gaze travel about her. She took out her notebook and began to make quick sketches of shapes and objects that intrigued her: the majestic papyriform pillars of the hypostyle hall; the swirl of sand around a lump of fallen rock; a crumbling section of wall with only a few hieroglyphs still legible.
She heard the guide say that they’d meet back at the minibus in three hours. He’d be leading a more detailed tour around the temple, if anyone was interested. Lucy shook her head and indicated her notebook, smiling at Mr and Mrs Stephens as they joined the smaller group.
Free at last, or at least for the next few hours, she strode quickly through the sign-posted main sections of the sacred complex. She wasn’t so interested in hearing explanations of what this temple was and who had built it: all that mattered was the sheer beauty of the place. She hoped she could do justice to the sense of enormity and space, the dazzle of the sun warming the stone, and the dry, sharp breeze that whispered past. To recreate the intangible in ceramic art was always a challenge, but it was one she loved.
Lucy followed the map on the sheet their guide had handed to them. Karnak had two sacred lakes, so she wandered down to the one enclosed within the precinct of Mut, the goddess-wife of Amun and mother of Khonsu the moon god. In ancient times, the people of Thebes had worshipped this family unit: the mother and father strong and powerful in their own right, but joined together with their son, they were truly mighty, an example for all people.
A crowd of tourists buzzed around a shrine, blocking her path. Lucy forced herself to think of other things. Children would never be part of her future. While the doctors said there was always the chance she could conceive naturally – “Miracles do happen,” one specialist said, “usually after IVF has failed, funnily enough” – that wasn’t a strong enough reason for Dave to stay with her.
Lucy gritted her teeth as she felt the familiar dull weight of pain settle around her heart. She tried to shake it off. Here she was on a holiday of a lifetime, and all she could do was mope! Angrily she wiped her eyes and took a deep breath, looking around to see where her footsteps had led her.
An avenue of ram-headed sphinxes lined the path to the Tenth Pylon, the immense gateway to the central precinct of Karnak. She went close to one of the stone creatures and touched its plinth, glancing around in case someone shouted at her. Then she climbed up onto the stone alongside it and caressed the sphinx’s paw, leaning on it as she examined the noble shape of the ram’s head. Their guide had told them that the ram was one of the animals sacred to Amun, and had been considered a symbol of fertility by the ancient Egyptians.
Lucy stepped back and sketched the ram’s profile. Solid, strong and patient, it had crouched there for centuries, undisturbed by the millions of gawping tourists. She almost envied it. Capping her pen, she patted its paw again before she clambered down onto the path and made her way back into the main precinct.
She was studying a series of reliefs in the temple of Khonsu when she heard the sound of a child crying. Automatically she looked around at the small group of people who were inside the temple with her, but none of them seemed disturbed by the noise. They were too busy talking amongst themselves to even notice it. Lucy frowned, tucking her pen behind her ear and closing her notebook. She went into the next section of the temple, peering around the columns.
The crying continued. Lucy felt her heart squeeze tight. The poor mite, he sounded so afraid. She didn’t stop to question why she thought the child was a boy; all she wanted was to find him and restore him to his parents before he got hurt. She’d have a few words to say to his mother, too – allowing a young boy to run off unsupervised in a huge place like this! Why, he could fall into a hole or climb a wall and slip off, not to mention he could be snatched by disreputable people… Lucy shuddered and followed the sound of the weeping, anxious to find the boy.
It took all her concentration to find him. As she moved through the precinct of Amun, the sound would die away, only to return louder than before a moment later. Lucy was surprised by the number of people who seemed unconcerned by the sound. It was as if they couldn’t hear the distressed wails of the little boy. She couldn’t see his parents, either – surely people should be searching for the lost child?
Finally she tracked down the sound to the temple of Osiris Hek-Djet, a tiny building tucked away against the sanctuary wall behind the temple of Amun. By now, the boy’s shrill cries had given way to slow, sad sobs. Lucy rushed into the temple, looking around desperately.
“Where are you?” she cried. “It’s okay. I’m here to help you…”
And then she stopped, her mouth open. Instead of the small, huddled child she’d expected to find, she’d come face to face with a gorgeous Egyptian man – and he looked angry.
