The Rosetta Key

“He was in charge of construction at the fort here when his men dug up a piece of rubble. Fortunately, Captain Bouchard was quick to recognize its significance. This Rosetta Stone may change the world, I think.”

“A stone?”

“Come. Let me show you.”

Silano led us to the room on the left, unlocked its door, and ushered us inside. It was dim; the slit window looking out onto the courtyard draped for privacy. The first thing that caught my eye was the wooden coffin of a mummy. Brightly painted and remarkably preserved, it bore paintings that looked like a depiction of a soul’s journey through the land of the dead.

“Is there a body inside?”

“Of Omar, our sentry,” Menou joked. “He is tireless.”

“Sentry?”

“I brought this downriver and told the soldiers we found it at this fort site,” Silano said. “Fear surrounds these mummies, and this one is now reputed to haunt Rosetta. It’s better than a cobra for keeping the curious out of this room.”

I touched the lid. “Amazing how bright the colors are.”

“Magic too, perhaps. We can’t do the same now, just as we’ve lost the formula for the leaded glass in the medieval cathedrals. We can’t match either beauty.” He pointed to some paint pots in one corner of the room. “I’m experimenting. Maybe Omar in there will give me a hint one night.”

“And you don’t believe in curses?”

“I believe I’m about to control them. With this.” Beside the wooden sarcophagus, something bulky, about five feet high and a little less than three feet wide, was shrouded with a tarpaulin. With a dramatic gesture, Silano whisked the cover off. I bent, peering in the dim light.

There was writing in different languages. I’m not a linguist, but one t h e

r o s e t t a k e y

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block of words looked Greek, and another like writing I’d seen in Egyptian temples. A third script I couldn’t identify but the fourth, at the top, just above the temple writing, made my heart beat faster. It was the same curious symbols I’d read on the scroll I’d found in the City of Ghosts. I realized what Silano had meant with his cryptic message. He could compare the Greek words to the secret ones of Thoth and possibly unravel the language!

“What’s this text here?” I pointed to the one I didn’t recognize.

“Demotic, the Egyptian language that followed the ancient hieroglyphs,” Silano said. “My guess is that these are in order of time—the oldest language, that of Thoth, at the top, and the newest, Greek, at the bottom.”

“When Alessandro brought me here I recognized what we’d seen on the scroll, Ethan,” Astiza said. “See? I was meant to be captured again.”

“And now you want me to help you decipher it,” I summarized.

“We want you to give us the book so we can help you decipher it,” Silano corrected.

“And I get?”

“The same that I offered before.” He sighed, as if I were a particularly dim child. “Partnership, power, and immortality if you want it.

The secrets of the universe, perhaps. The reason for existence, the face of God, and the world in your palm. Or, nothing, if you prefer not to cooperate.”

“But if I don’t cooperate, you don’t have the book, right?” I saw Menou make a small gesture. Captain Bouchard maneuvered behind me, and I noticed he had a pistol in his belt.

“On the contrary, monsieur,” Silano said. He nodded and my satchel was yanked from my shoulder and roughly opened.

“Merde,” Bouchard said. He turned my leather bag upside down and a wooden rolling pin fell out, making a dent in the building’s packed-earth floor. The general and the captain looked puzzled and Astiza stifled a laugh. Silano’s look grew dark.

“You didn’t really think I’d deliver it like Franklin’s post, did you?”

“Search him!”

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w i l l i a m d i e t r i c h

But there was no scroll. They even peered in my rifle barrel, as if I could have somehow stuffed it down there. They pried open the soles of my boots, checked the bottom of my feet, and grabbed at places that left me indignant.

“Are you going to look in my ears, too?”

“Where is it?” Silano’s frustration was plain.

“Hidden, until we form a true partnership. If we Americans and French represent liberty and reason, then the translation is for all mankind, not the Egyptian Rite of renegade Freemasons. Or ambitious generals like Napoleon Bonaparte. I want it given to the institute of savants in Cairo for dissemination to the world. The British Academy, as well. And I want Astiza once and for all. I want you to give her up, Silano, to trade her for the book, no matter how much power you have over us. And I want her to promise to go with me, wherever I choose to go. Now and forever. I want Bonaparte to know we’re all here, working together for him, so that none of us conveniently disappear. And I want the bloodshed to end. We’ve both lost friends. Promise me all that, and I’ll fetch your book. We’ll both have our dreams.”

“Fetch it from where? Acre?”

“You can have it within the hour.”