Temple of Horus

“Dark silence deafens me. I seem to be alone. The flame over the distant altar shimmers an eerie orange glow. It is the only light. Vast columns loom along the path, reaching for the sky. A falcon cries and swoops. I flinch. It dives behind the granite feet of Horus as though it knows its master. A mouse screeches as the bird snatches its prey and soars back toward the absent stars. A cool breeze begins to whisper as it rushes around stone. High above, the clouds shift and a silvery sliver of moon appears, curled like the giant toenail of Nut. She brightens the way. I hear a scuff. I slip behind a column and wait, breath held tight. No one comes.

Barefoot I scurry towards the temple doors. The great gates of wood are held open by plinths baring more statues of Horus. His golden eyes glint as I pass. I shudder and wonder if he sees my heart as well as my actions. Inside, the grand room encloses around me. I try not to see the painted gods as they stare out into the empty blackness. I move past the offering table and feel my stomach grumble at the smell of dead fruit and stale bread. I stop. Prying no one heard. No one comes.

I enter the inner sanctum. The enclave is hot and dry. The scent of burning oil is oppressive and choking. I try not to cough as the flickering flame sucks the air from the room. I am drawn to the torch. The light it creates dances over the walls and ceiling, licking at the faces of gods. The figures seem to move with the fire, swirling and following me. Tiny particles of dust glimmer in the air as they float. From the corner of my eye, I see a dark shadow, standing silent and still. Slowly I turn, heart pounding. It does not move. I reach out and touch the cool stone of its hand and stifle a laugh. I look around. No one comes.

Carefully I kneel before the god and pray, and wait.

As my knees begin to bruise and my eyes grow tired, I feel a hand upon my shoulder. I stand and turn. He folds me in his arms and draws me close. As I feel his lips brush against mine I draw the dagger from the band at my waist. I drive it deep into his back. He groans and sags. His low voice croaks in my ear, “why?”

“Betrayal,” I whisper back. I lower him to the ground. “Because of her.” I see the look of realization in his dark eyes as his life seeps out in a pool of blood. I watch. No one comes. I run. No one comes.

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