Trafalgar and Boone and the Books of Breathing by Geonn Cannon

Author:Geonn Cannon [Cannon, Geonn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781944591915
Amazon: B073YTFPLW
Barnesnoble: B073YTFPLW
Goodreads: 35722981
Publisher: Supposed Crimes, LLC
Published: 2017-09-01T03:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

The mastabas were located in Giza, a relatively quick southward jaunt along the Nile. They took two vehicles, splitting up once they reached what Dorothy hoped was referred to as “the ancient part of town.” Two pyramids loomed above the smaller mastabas, squat little stone structures with inwardly sloping walls that looked like the foundation of pyramids that were never finished. Each one stood about the height of a home, completely unassuming compared to the grandeur just a few hundred yards away.

Denny drove them past the Sphinx, which Dorothy had to admit was a crushing disappointment. She’d never made it to Giza on any of her travels, and photographs always made the enigmatic sculpture look so impressive. In reality it was just another part of the landscape not far removed from the city center. People were going about their day without giving the wonders a second glance. She supposed living in the shadow of history tended to make one immune to it.

“It’s fine,” Denny said with a knowing smile. “Everyone assumes it will be more, ah, monumental.”

“They are quite impressive. Just...”

“They don’t jump out as they should. I felt the same way when my father brought me here the first time.”

They were forced to walk from some distance to the mastaba indicated in Denny’s investigations. The entrance was a slender gap between two monolithic stone walls, the bricks of which were carved with intricate carvings. Dorothy paused to examine the artwork and regretted that she didn’t have more time to fully explore the tomb. Even if it had been looted, there was plenty of amazing things left to discover. She traced her finger over the delicate cuts in the stone, moving closer so she could examine the ink that had been used in each groove.

She looked at Denny with regret. “This is where you tell me that these will still be here when Amenemhat has been dealt with and we should focus on the task at hand.”

“Most definitely,” Denny said. “If you require a guide for your return trip, I hope you will keep me in mind.”

Dorothy nodded and patted the stone, a tacit promise that she’d return one day, and dropped her hand. She turned sideways to enter the courtyard of the tomb. She was holding a torch which Denny had provided and swept it from one side of the passage to the other. It bent and turned on itself so she couldn’t see the end from where she stood.

Denny moved behind her. “Just around that first turn,” he said. “The main entrance will be to your right. Then the corridor turns to the left, again to the right, and that is where you should find the false door protecting the ka statue.”

“How easy is it to get turned around in here?” she asked.

“Nearly impossible,” he said. “It’s not a labyrinth. There aren’t branching corridors that lead off in every direction.”

Dorothy said, “I’ve been in a labyrinth. I’m relieved to hear this won’t be a repeat of that experience.

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