QBLH
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The Four of Pentacles
often symbolizes holding
onto wealth or resources tightly,
sometimes indicating greed
or fear of loss.
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Chapter LXVIII
Xiang and Ay
Xiang rematerialized within the king’s chamber and moved at once into the hidden tunnels that led toward the Sphinx.
Very few knew the secret way. Fewer still could walk it unchallenged. Cloaked and unremarked, Xiang passed through Egypt unseen, his presence accepted without question. As High Priest to Isis, none would dare obstruct him. Even when noticed, challengers withdrew at once, offering hurried apologies for the disturbance.
To the court he was known as Ay—chief of staff to Queen Tiye, architect of policy, and living conduit of divine authority. Crown Prince Tutankhamun detested him, yet depended utterly upon his favor. The boy’s whispered plots of assassination were laughable in their clumsiness. Xiang thwarted them with ease, mocking the prince openly when the mood suited him.
“Someday, little one,” he would say with cold amusement, “perhaps you may rule. I would pity your subjects. You pharaohs-in-waiting are all alike.”
Xiang had once fathered a child by Queen Tiye’s grandmother—another Tiye—who herself became Pharaoh. In those days he bore a different name, though his function remained unchanged: High Priest of Isis, keeper of power behind the throne. His granddaughter, Princess Tiye, was born in Egypt of pure Amazon blood. She was kind-hearted, favored by her mother, and destined—had the men permitted it—to rule.
But men rarely permitted such things.
They resented female sovereignty and longed for the return of their false gods. Thus the throne passed instead to Pharaoh Thutmose IV, Tiye’s foster father, while ambition fermented beneath the surface. Princess Tiye herself rescued a child from the Nile—never knowing he was Hebrew. Amenhotep despised that foster brother, Moses, as much as he despised the truth Moses represented. When Moses killed a slavemaster, Amenhotep enforced the law without mercy, breaking his daughter’s heart.
Xiang had liked Moses. Had befriended him. But at the time—traveling Greece with his half-sister Nefertiti—he was absent, unable to intervene.
Now Moses was gone.
Xiang felt the absence keenly. He wondered what had become of his friend, whether he would amount to anything at all. Jim had assured him Moses lived and would shape Egypt’s fate—but had offered no details. The rest of the court, however, Xiang judged without hesitation: fools, all of them, lacking integrity and courage. They feared him because of his power, never knowing he was the son of their beloved Isis.
Xiang knew the truth.
He was no god. His mother was no goddess. They were beings of another space and time—nothing more, nothing less.
Returning to the palace, he found Queen Tiye awaiting him in her chambers.
“Where have you been, my dear?” she asked, smiling. “I have missed you.”
“I saw my father.”
Her eyebrow rose slightly. “Your father? Impossible. But perhaps this is a conversation for privacy.”
She dismissed court business at once, ignoring the nobles’ objections, and withdrew with him.
Alone, she turned serious. “What do you mean, seeing your father? Is he here? Does Isis know?”
“Isis is gone,” Xiang said evenly. “Father returned her to Artemis. We are alone now.”
Tiye paled. “Alone? Without Pegasus? When they learn we have lost our power, they will massacre us. Surely Qblh would not abandon us to that fate.”
“Relax,” Xiang replied. “I’ve done this before. I can return us safely to Artemis. Egypt will pass to Horemheb and his allies.”
“That conceited squirt?” she snapped. “I would rather kill him.”
“Father advises otherwise,” Xiang said calmly. “He offers you a way home. He strongly suggests you accept it. He does not guarantee our survival if we remain.”
Her voice dropped. “Is he here now?”
Xiang summoned Genie and projected a holographic model of the Giza complex into the chamber.
“Yes. I am linked to the Box. We have little time.”
Tiye felt her blood stir at the thought of Qblh. He loved her—had always loved her. She believed he would forgive her entanglement with his son, just as Amazon and Egyptian custom had long permitted such bonds. Jim himself had known many mother-daughter pairings, though never his own daughters; even Venetian tradition drew lines.
“With us gone,” Tiye asked, “who will restrain Horemheb?”
“Moses will.”
She laughed bitterly. “Moses fled long ago. He killed a slavemaster. The law demanded death. My daughter loved him—Qblh’s daughter—and dreamed of ruling with him, freeing the slaves. Idealism. Dangerous nonsense.”
“That ‘nonsense’,” Xiang said quietly, “may not be wrong.”
“Who would do the work?” she scoffed.
“Perhaps the world will learn,” Xiang replied. “It is what Father wants.”
“Qblh wants slaves freed?” She shook her head. “Impossible.”
“You will not be the one to do it,” Xiang said. “Set’s son, Rameses, will.”
She laughed again. “You are mad. If I know that family, they will never free slaves.”
“Nevertheless,” Xiang said, “Father assures me it will happen—and that we should not be present when it does. Egypt will decline once you leave.”
She studied him. “An event of great importance, then.”
“Apparently.”
“And Isis knows nothing?”
“So he claims.”
She smiled thinly. “I doubt that.”
“Will you give up Egypt?” Xiang asked.
“As long as you phrase it so politely,” she said, “I do not object.”
He kissed her. “We will be together again on Artemis. Think of our future children. I will not leave you to rot in Earth’s past.”
She hesitated, savoring the power she still held. “I will consider it. Is there a time limit?”
“A brief grace period.”
“I will not be remembered as betraying Isis.”
“You won’t be,” Xiang said. “Father is expending great effort to save you.”
She laughed softly. “He will not end slavery. It is too deeply rooted.”
“Consider this,” Xiang replied. “Father is fighting to prevent us from enslaving them. Heaven help anyone who stands in his way.”
She leaned close. “Isis knows his tricks. She will not lose.”
“History will not change,” Xiang said. “Her conquest will fail.”
“You are as stubborn as your father,” Tiye sighed. “Very well. I will play along and watch you attempt another miracle.”
Xiang understood then: like Hatshepsut, Tiye would follow him. Now he must execute the retreat.
Years passed. Horemheb grew bolder. He displaced Moses as the young king’s companion, restored false gods, and starved the priests of monotheism. Encouraged recklessness followed. King Tutankhamun died young. Xiang assumed the throne as Ay, allowing Tiye to rule, watching carefully for treachery.
Eventually the threat grew too great. To avoid slaughter, Xiang prepared their disappearance.
A grand ceremony was called.
Upon the throne, Xiang whispered to Tiye, “The Land of Pharaohs calls for me.”
She remembered Hatshepsut’s departure. Now it was her turn.
Before the court, Xiang proclaimed their ascent to the stars, naming Horemheb regent should they not return. The priests mocked. The generals sneered. Horemheb smiled, already plotting.
Xiang slipped in his final warning: if Egypt suffered, blame would rest on those who ruled in their absence.
Then, through hidden passages, he led Tiye to the portal.
As the priests argued and the captains searched in vain, Xiang summoned Genie and transferred them into the King’s Chamber of the Great Pyramid—into a space larger within than without, prepared for waiting.
Jim felt the signal.
“Jim,” Idiot reported, “Xiang has activated the beacon.”
“Good boy,” Jim murmured.
The window opened.
And Egypt was left behind—clutching its wealth, its power, and its fear of loss—as the Four of Pentacles turned in silence.
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