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Back The Desert of Glass Save as PDF
Chapters (84)
  1. BY MICHAEL C. GRUMLEY
  2. Prologue
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. 54
  57. 55
  58. 56
  59. 57
  60. 58
  61. 59
  62. 60
  63. 61
  64. 62
  65. 63
  66. 64
  67. 65
  68. 66
  69. 67
  70. 68
  71. 69
  72. 70
  73. 71
  74. 72
  75. 73
  76. 74
  77. 75
  78. 76
  79. 77
  80. 78
  81. EPILOGUE
  82. II
  83. III
  84. IV

The men’s eyes returned to each other’s with expressions of incredulity, stunned at what they had found entirely by accident in a mere three days.

The tomb looked unlike any they had seen before, even in pictures, with walls that appeared unfinished, plastered only on two sides, and poorly at that.

A family of lower status, he thought.  Or perhaps simply prepared in a rush.

Ayrton moved to the sarcophagus and lowered his lamp, peering through the narrow gap.  Inside, he could see a sliver of the mummy and a glimmer from the vulture pectoral wrapped around it.

“A pharaoh,” he said, looking up at Mahid.

The Egyptian turned and looked around again, this time with confusion.  “A pharaoh?  In a place like this?”

There would be decades of speculation using dozens of clues left behind hinting at several possible occupants, from the condition of the unfinished room to signs of a second coffin having been removed from the tomb, likely sometime during Egypt’s Ancient Twentieth Dynasty.

But it wouldn’t be until 2010, a full hundred years later, that genetic testing would reveal the man entombed to be the one and only Akhenaten, King Tut’s enigmatic and mysterious father.

43

43

Several months later, Robert Ayrton stood alone in the quiet, empty tomb.  Its contents had been removed and meticulously cataloged, along with thousands of black-and-white photographs, creating a visual map of every square inch of the room.

Now with several waist-high lamps brightly burning in the tomb, every section could be clearly seen.  Chunks of plaster fell away from two of the walls.  The other two, along with the ceiling, were marvelously chiseled within giant sections of solid bedrock, along with dozens of conflicting markings on each that would take archeologists many years to puzzle out.

Even the corridor was clear of rocks or boulders, leaving the long walkway free with its twenty perfectly cut stone steps leading up to its opening; Ayrton mused humorously at the memory of his maiden entry.  He fell clumsily through the opening, eager with anticipation to see what lay within, completely unaware that another, even more spectacular find would be unearthed nearby in the not-too-distant future and take the world by storm.

Tutankhamen himself.

Ayrton took in one last look at his mysterious KV55 tomb before beginning his long trip back to England.

Satisfied, he turned and started to exit when his boot caught something on the floor; a tiny corner of stone slab sticking up and jutting a mere quarter inch above the rest, no doubt from thousands of years of deep geological shifting below Egypt’s famed Valley of the Kings.

Ayrton playfully tapped the corner of the stone with his boot and had just resumed his turn when he felt something strange.

Pausing, he turned back around, again staring down at the corner of flooring and touching it with the toe of his boot.  When nothing happened, he leaned forward and added more weight—and felt it again.