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He is my Only One, Fair Osiris.
I follow the footsteps of your esteemed Isis to remain True.
To keep Faith.
And search across heaven and earth to find my Love.
Please allow me to wait for him, I beg of you.
There is no heaven without my Shai.
“Shai,” Ben murmured. “What is it with the name rhyming with you dragons?”
Ere grunted noncommittally.
“Can we safely assume that this Shai is the Secret Gift?” he asked instead.
“We do not know what, if anything, came of Heba’s plea to Osiris,” Ben said. “The murals end abruptly here. If the god granted her wish, perhapsthatis the Secret Gift.”
“Here” was an arched entry way of sorts sealed by limestone bricks. They had reached the end of the tunnel.
“Dragonfire or brute force?” Ere asked, rolling up his sleeves, getting ready to heft bricks.
“We leave less damage by breaking in the old-fashioned way,” Ben said.
“Brute force it is.”
Ere and Sorin got to work prying the bricks away from the barred archway. Behind it was a heavy wooden door reinforced with metal.
“There better not be a solid stone wall on the other side of this,” Ere huffed. “I would be most put out if my expectations have been built up for nothing.”
With a strong twist of his wrist, using his dragon strength, he rotated the locked lever to open the door.
Ben didn’t know where to look first upon entering the simple, spare chamber.
Not at all extravagant and packed with the usual wares, furniture and luxuries befitting of a royal tomb. But the walls were filled with murals, the high ceiling painted with all the times of the day, from sunrise to sunset, noon and night.
These murals were “unofficial” looking, even more personal than the ones in the tunnel. They depicted domestic scenes of Heba and a foreign-featured man, big and tall with wavy hair sometimes loose below his shoulders, sometimes tied up in a knot. He always sported a thick beard, and his eyes were distinctly golden, unlike any other Egyptian portrait Ben had ever seen.
Even when Egyptians drew foreigners, they always drew them with black eyes, whether that was the real shade or not. Ben could only assume that they wanted to emphasize the pupils.
But here, with this man,Shai, his golden eyes were accentuated with actual gold leafing. The art here, even more so than the tunnel, was so well preserved, Ben could almost swear that the paint hadn’t even dried yet, it was so vivid and fresh.
These scenes depicted a life that was well lived, a woman and her mate sharing everything. From simple acts of sitting at meals, to walking together hand in hand at the market, to sitting together, wrapped around each other, watching a sunset, to scenes of love-making. Nothing lurid, but intimate and filled with clear passion and adoration nonetheless.
The tomb was a tribute to their love for each other.
And given that Heba was alone upon journeying to the afterlife, these scenes must be what she dreamed of if her mate was with her. How she would share her life if they could be together.
In the end, the thing that drew their attention the most was the humble wooden sarcophagus laid on a granite platform in the middle of a chamber that was about four hundred square feet.
While the sarcophagus was decorated and painted with the same delicate artistry as on the walls, it wasn’t ornate or bejeweled like the typical resting place of a Pharoah. It could have been constructed for any noble woman.
And what was even more unusual was that there were holes in the face of the sarcophagus where the eyes and nostrils should be.
“If we’re about to discover Heba’s mummy in this here coffin, I’m going to have a colossal tantrum,” Ere warned.
“Secret Gift or not, I’m not even sure I care at this point. I just want Heba to find her Shai! Osiris is a heartless, villainous, dick-less god if he didn’t grant her wish.”
