Eater of souls

sun. The stems of the flowers had been painted with alternating bands of gold and blue at the base and just beneath the petals. As had been intended, the decoration of the room imitated a reflection pool dotted with lotus plants and surrounded by the sundrenched blue of the sky.

Only in the last few years had he been able to enjoy his Memphis office this way. He and his wife had shared too many private moments here. After she died, he hadn't been able to remain in this chamber for long, because Sit-Hathor had filled it with gifts to him. Leaving the master's dais, Meren went to a long cabinet set against the wall. There rested the last of Sit-Hathor's gifts, an alabaster lamp carved in the shape of a chalice cup sitting on an open, rectangular base.

When not in use, the lamp appeared a simple object of the valuable, cream-colored stone. When lit, a scene appeared as if by magic, illuminated by the gold flicker of the oil and floating wick. A close-fitting alabaster lining had been affixed within the chalice bowl. It was on the outer surface of the lining that the scene had been painted. Meren studied the glowing chalice, upon which he could see an image of himself and Sit-Hathor. He was sitting in his ebony chair with the legs carved to imitate a leopard's and claws fashioned of ivory. Sit-Hathor stood before him, smiling and offering him a lotus flower. This pose had been a private joke, for Sit-Hathor had been a woman more likely to pelt his face with the blossom than offer it meekly.

It was growing late. The office was illuminated by a dozen alabaster lamps, but reading in such light wearied the eyes. The strain worked against alertness, and everyone had to be alert with an unknown killer abroad in Memphis. Meren turned to face the room. His fingers traced the fluted shape of the chalice lamp as he began.

'The hour grows late. We should review and then take our rest. Kysen, you said Prince Mugallu's killer also dispatched a slave and the sentry posted at the garden.'

'Aye, Father. I surveyed the places where the bodies lay, but the Hittites had swarmed all over. If the criminal or creature left any signs, they're gone. But the guard and the slave were killed with a simple knife in the back.'

'So this evil one reserves the ax and the-whatever made those rows of slices on the throat and face-for special victims.'

Abu looked up at him, startled. Kysen nodded without surprise while Min gripped an amulet of protection he wore as a necklace. Meren glanced at his daughter, but Bener didn't seem disturbed. She was rolling up a papyrus and inserting it in a leather document case.

Without looking up, she said, 'If they were killed by the same evil one, man or demon.'

Everyone looked at her. She rolled her eyes and gave an impatient sigh.

'Which is the greater amazement? That I had the wits to consider the possibility, or that I had the temerity to say it?'

'Neither, daughter,' said Meren.

He frowned at her, which failed to evoke anything but a little smile. Thrusting his hands behind his back, Meren abandoned his position beside the lamp and walked a circuit that took him down the rows of columns and back.

'Pharaoh has alerted the royal bodyguard, the infantry companies stationed in the area, the naval patrols, the city police, the desert patrols. But no one knows what to look for, or whom.'

'General Labarnas tried to send a messenger after I left,' Kysen said. 'The men I set to watch the house stopped him and sent him back. His message wasn't written, so we don't know what Labarnas wants to say to the king of the Hittites.'

On the return leg of his circuit of the office, Meren gave a bitter laugh. 'No words of praise, I'll wager.' He stopped between the first pair of columns, unclasped his hands, and began toying with the thick hinged bracelet that covered the Aten scar on his wrist. 'Very well, let us review what we've learned.'

'We know of at least three heart thefts,' Kysen said. 'There was the farmer ten days ago, the one Sokar listed as the death of a farmer, 'not of the city,' with no other description.' He said this last with contempt. 'Then there was the-what was she, Min?'

'A tavern woman, lord.'

'Yes, Anat, the tavern woman in that western village.'

'And her cat,' Bener said.

'And the cat,' Kysen replied. 'And Tcha's friend Pawah, but we only have Tcha to tell us what he saw. His veracity isn't the stuff of which great men write advice for their sons.' Kysen glanced at Meren. 'Has he been with you?'

'No. I thought he went with you,' Meren said. They stared at each other.

Abu spoke up. 'I last saw him in the alley where we found Prince Mugallu.'

No one said anything for a while. Then Meren turned to Abu. 'Send someone to look for him when we're finished.'

'I have to go to Ese's,' Kysen said. 'I'll look for him there. Most likely he has burrowed under a rubbish heap somewhere to hide from danger, and from us.'

Bener shut the lid on the document case she'd been using. 'If you find him, don't let him in this house. The servants had to burn incense for hours to get rid of the stench.' Setting the case aside, she said, 'Three heart thefts? But what of those two entries in Sokar's reports of several weeks ago?'

'We don't know that those were heart thefts,' Kysen said. 'Min wasn't present when they were discovered.'

'But Sokar described them as he did the others. He wrote 'a death' and 'not of the city,' or 'a wretched slave.' I've looked at most of his reports, and he seldom becomes so sparing of words or so vague unless there's something he wants to avoid.'

When Kysen's brow furrowed, and he began to rock back and forth on his heels, Meren knew it was time to interrupt.

'It may be nothing, but I want to be sure. Min will ask the watchmen involved about these early entries.'

Min answered hastily as Bener opened her lips. 'Yes, lord.'

Before either of his children could pursue their disagreement, Meren continued. 'Returning to what we know of these killings. All began with a disabling blow, followed by a slice to the throat by some weapon, or claws.' He set his back against a column, folded his arms, and stared at the floor while he thought for a moment. 'The cuts are too clean.'

'What do you mean?' Kysen asked.

Meren looked up at him. 'You've seen the gashes left by a lion's claws, or a leopard's. The edges aren't nearly as clean. Mugallu's throat looked like someone had sliced it with a freshly sharpened butcher's knife.'

'Perhaps the evil one has some strange weapon,' Kysen replied. 'A knife with several blades.'

Bener walked over to Meren and spoke quietly. 'The claws of Eater of Souls, are they not as sharp as the gods demand? If the Devouress eats the body of the dead, heart and bones and tendons, her claws would have to be sharper and harder than any metal.'

Again no one spoke. Min clutched his amulet. Kysen and Abu exchanged uneasy looks while Meren stared at Bener.

'By the gods, daughter. The image you devise makes my bones cold.'

Eyes large with surprise, Bener said, 'All I do is think of the sensible consequences of what I know to be true.'

'But your imagination,' Meren replied. 'Your heart is clever, but it's also filled with colorful vision.' He was surprised when Bener's eyes began to glisten with unshed tears.

'Thank you, Father.' Bener cleared her throat. 'What other things do we know?'

Knowing Bener would be furious with herself if she succumbed to tears, Meren walked over to Kysen, listing items as he went. 'All the killings are done at night. All the dead are humble except for Mugallu. None except the Hittite's slave and sentry were linked to any of the others.'

'And all the killings except that of the tavern woman have taken place in the dock district, which the people call the Caverns, and the foreign enclaves nearby,' Kysen added. 'But the woman worked in the area, and lived in the village. I suppose the demon-or the man- found her in the Caverns and followed her home.'

'And if the killer is mortal, we should consider that the evil one may live near or frequent these places,' Meren said.