Whispers in the Sand (45 page)

“And you know how to do this?” Anna’s eyes were on the notebook.

Serena looked up at her doubtfully. “In theory, yes.”

“What’s the option if we fail?”

Serena shrugged. “I’ll have made matters worse. By paying them all this attention, we make them stronger.”

“But if we get it right, we can help Charley?”

Serena grimaced. “If we get rid of them, it must help you both. That’s if I can get it right.”

“Let’s do it now. In my cabin.”

“Now? Anna, I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“You have to be ready.” Anna grabbed her hand. “It’ll be all right. It has to be. Please.”

Serena took a deep breath. “All right. I’ll do my best. It’ll be a bit like what we did at Kom Ombo, only better. More powerful. We’ll have time and privacy, and we can set it up right.” She glanced round the cabin as though checking she had all she needed, then, tucking the notebook under her arm, she picked up her holdall. “Come on.”

Anna followed her. “Do we need Charley to be there?”

Serena paused. “I’ve been wondering about that. I think probably not at this stage. We couldn’t do the ceremony if she was there, she’d be too disruptive, and besides, the energies are everywhere. What I am hoping is that I shall be so thorough that the various attachments to you, to Charley, perhaps to Andy and Toby—even me—are destroyed, and we are all freed at the same moment.” She licked her lips nervously, “Oh, God, Anna, I hope I’m right about all this.”

They closed the shutters and, pulling the bedside table into the centre of the room, covered it with one of Anna’s silk scarves. On the makeshift altar Serena put candles held in small coloured-glass candleholders, a brass incense burner, and a tiny carved statue of Isis. She looked round and shook her head. “It’s not dark enough. The curtains are thin, and there’s too much light coming through the slats. We have to pin something over the shutters.” They wedged a bath towel across the window and, over that, Anna’s pashmina. At last the cabin was dark. Serena switched on the light and then delved into her bag. She pulled out an ankh—the looped cross which is the Egyptian symbol of eternal life—which she laid next to the statue, and finally she produced an intricate red amulet on a black leather thong, which she hung around her own neck.

“What is that?” Anna, who had sat silent through the preparations so far, leant forward and squinted at it.

“It’s called the tyet. It represents the knot of Isis’s girdle. Or her sacred blood, which is why it’s carved in red jasper. It is a very powerful symbol.”

Unconsciously, Anna groped for the amulet which hung around her own neck. Serena saw the action and gave a quick nod of approval.

She reached into her bag and produced a box of matches. “I’m going to invoke the protection of Isis before I start. Then I’m going to summon the two priests before her altar. I made this incense before I left London. It’s the nearest I could get to something called
kyphi
which was sacred to Isis. They used it in the temples during her rituals.” She gave a quick, deprecating laugh. “I did it for fun. It’s got so many ingredients. Raisins. Myrrh. Honey. Wine. Resin. Spikenard. Juniper berries. Lots of other things. I never imagined I’d be using it like this.”

Anna bit her lip. “Are you sure this is safe?”

Serena nodded. “The worst that can happen is that it has no effect or that they hear, but refuse to come. It may be that we do need the scent bottle here on the altar, but I’m going to try.” She lit the candles, then she moved to switch off the light. She stood for a moment in silence, her eyes closed, then she reached into her bag for the last time and produced a small bundle wrapped in a square of white silk. Unwrapping it, she held up a metal object about twelve inches high, shaped rather like the ankh with four pieces of wire stretched across the looped head. On the wires were strung small finger cymbals. “This is a sistrum, the sacred instrument of the gods,” she said as she laid it on the altar and carefully folded away the white silk. “It is shaken to invoke, to purify, to protect.”

“And do we need some wine?” Anna sat down on the bed as far away from Serena’s centre of activities as humanly possible.

“Not this time. If…” She paused imperceptibly. “When. When we succeed, I’ll make an offering to give thanks.” She picked the little incense cone out of the burner and held it to the candle flame. “I’ll bless and protect you, Anna. If you could just stay there and stay quiet, whatever happens. If you feel afraid, visualise yourself surrounded by an impenetrable circle of blue fire.”

Anna nodded. Her mouth had gone dry.

As the rich spicy smell of the incense began to curl out of the burner, the candles flickered.

Serena began to intone under her breath. Then she picked up the sistrum and started to shake it towards the four corners of the room, after which she spun to face Anna and shook it in her direction. “Hail, Isis, protector of thy daughters. Be with us here. Hail Isis, watch over us. Hail Isis, keep us safe. Hail Isis, surround us with thy protective fire so that your servants Anna and Serena may serve you and speak with thy priests, Anhotep and Hatsek!”

Anna could feel the palms of her hands sweating in the darkened cabin. The candle flames didn’t stir; the fine spiral of blue smoke from the incense straightened and rose towards the ceiling. She recognised the incense with a shiver of nausea. It was similar to the strange, cloying smell which sometimes permeated her cabin.

Serena was speaking again, her voice rising and falling in a rhythmic chant. In the light of the candles, Anna could see the perspiration standing out on her forehead. Her eyes were wide and staring, her fingers clamped round the handle of the sistrum like taut, whitened claws.

“Hail to thee, Anhotep, and greeting. Come that we might speak with thee…”

The litany was repeated again and again, rising in the airless cabin, trapped by the ceiling, building like a tangible presence, inexorably winding up the tension in the room. Anna found she was holding her breath, every muscle in her body tensed, her eyes darting backwards and forwards, seeking in every corner for the shadowy figure of Anhotep, until between one breath and the next, with an almost imperceptible sigh, the candles went out.

Anna swallowed hard, biting down the urge to scream. The rattle of the sistrum stopped, and the silence intensified. Anna became conscious suddenly of the drumming of her own pulse in her ears, then a strange gurgling noise from the centre of the room. She strained her eyes to see Serena in the shadowy darkness, standing still, staring at the altar. The sistrum dropped from her hand with a rattle, then she fell slowly to her knees. For several seconds, she swayed groggily backwards and forwards, then she slid to the floor.

Anna had frozen where she was. She was too frightened to move, but the sound of Serena’s breath rattling in her throat galvanised her into action. Leaping off the bed, she ran to the window and tore down the blackout, wrenching back the shutters, then she turned and flung herself down beside Serena, reaching for her wrist.

“Serena! Serena, speak to me!” She shook her hand, then she gently slapped Serena’s face. “Wake up! Come on, wake up! You’ve got to speak to me!” Serena’s face was suffused with a dark, livid red, her eyelids fluttering uncontrollably, her pupils beneath them dilated. “Serena!” Anna shouted in her ear, then, letting Serena’s head fall back on the floor, she scrambled to her feet and ran into the bathroom. Filling the glass with the tepid water from the cold tap, she brought it back and threw it in Serena’s face.

Serena gasped. For a moment, her whole body seemed to gather itself into one great spasm, then she fell back on the floor and her eyes closed. As Anna watched, the colour drained from her face and all the tension seemed to leave her.

“Serena?” Anna stared at her in terror. “Serena?” She grabbed Serena’s wrist again and felt for her pulse. It was there, irregular, light, but growing increasingly steady. Serena took a deep, shuddering breath and then another, and her eyes opened. She lay looking up at Anna blankly.

“Are you all right?” Anna reached for the towel she had thrown on the bed and used a corner of it to wipe Serena’s face and hair. “Come on. Let me help you sit up. What happened?” She braced her arm round the other woman’s shoulders and helped her into a sitting position.

“Can I have a drink?” Serena’s husky whisper was barely audible. She leant back against the bed and closed her eyes again. Her hands had begun to shake.

Anna rose to her feet and reached for the bottle of water she kept on the dressing table. Pouring out a glass, she handed it to Serena, steadying the shaking hands around it and helping her bring it to her lips. Serena took a sip and then another, then she took another deep, shuddering breath. “What happened?” Her eyes were focusing better now as she looked up at Anna.

“I don’t know. I was hoping you’d tell me.” Anna sat down on the floor beside her. “You were chanting in the candlelight, and the cabin suddenly got very hot and airless, then the candles went out and you started making funny gurgling noises. I thought you were being strangled. I was terrified.”

Serena reached for the glass and took another deep drink. “Can you open the window? I can’t breathe properly.”

Anna glanced up. “It is open, Serena. Do you want to go on deck?”

Serena shook her head. “Not yet. Did something go wrong?” She rubbed her eyes. “I can’t catch it…In my head…It’s like a dream. It’s there, but just out of reach. Something happened.” She finished the glass and held it out.

Without a word, Anna brought the bottle and refilled it. “Anhotep didn’t come.”

Serena frowned. “Anhotep,” she repeated. “Anhotep. That name…” She shook her head again. “The sunrise. I saw the sunrise. And the sunset.”

Anna frowned. She was studying Serena’s face.

“Eons of sand, drifting.” She fell silent for a minute, then she closed her eyes. “I died yesterday, but I come forth today. The mighty Lady who is the guardian of the door hath made way for me. I come forth by day against mine enemy, and I have gained mastery over him.” She fell silent again as Anna stared at her. It was several seconds before she spoke. “That’s from the
Book of the Dead
.”

Anna raised an eyebrow and grimaced. “What’s that?”

“It’s instructions, really. Written on the walls of the tombs. Ancient texts. Hymns. Prayers. Invocations. I didn’t know I knew any by heart.” She shivered suddenly. “I protected myself, Anna. I did all the right things.”

“He didn’t come, Serena. I didn’t see him.”

“Then who did?” Serena rested her head back against the bed. Her face was white and strained, and she looked totally exhausted.

“I don’t know.” Anna stood up. She pushed her hair back from her face. “I think I probably chased him away. I was so afraid. I thought you were dying.”

“Dying?” Serena’s eyes rounded.

“You were gasping for breath. Your eyes were all funny. You collapsed, and your pulse was almost nothing. It happened when the candles went out. It was weird. They didn’t seem to blow out. They were just extinguished. Suddenly.”

Serena shook her head. “And the incense?” Anna turned to the little altar. The small brass incense burner still stood between the candles. It was cold.

“I don’t understand what made that happen. I suppose the energies in the cabin were fluctuating in some way. You probably did stop it happening. Whatever it was.” Shakily, Serena climbed to her feet.

“I think he was trying to possess you,” Anna blurted out suddenly. “I think that, just for a moment, he was inside you. Your face changed. It looked so unlike you. Oh, Serena, what we did was dangerous! I think something awful nearly happened there. Supposing he had succeeded! Supposing he had possessed you?”

There was a long silence as Serena stood deep in thought, then at last she shrugged. “I suppose it is possible my protection wasn’t strong enough.” She sighed, then gave a small uncomfortable laugh. “Presumably he knows far more about all this than I do!” She bent, and, picking the sistrum up off the floor, she laid it gently on the makeshift altar. Then she stretched her arms over her head.

“Anna, I think I am going to go up on deck for a little while. Do you mind if I go alone? I need to get my head straight.”

Anna stared round the cabin after she had gone, then slowly she began to tidy it. Serena had left everything just as it was, the altar still in place with candles and statue and ankh. Carefully Anna put them one by one into the holdall, rewrapping the sistrum in the white silk square. Then she folded the pashmina and pushed her bedside table back into place. The semblance of order made her feel better, but she was still uncomfortable in the cabin—jumpy, looking over her shoulder at the slightest noise. And there was noise, all around. Noise from the deck of the boat next door; noise from the town; music drifting in the window from somewhere on the quayside, a sudden shout of laughter and conversation outside in the corridor. So where had the silence come from? That extraordinary silence which had preceded the extinguishing of the candles? The profound silence Louisa had heard in the temple of Isis? She shuddered and went to the door.