The Memory Painter

“Are you from Cairo?” he asked.

It was as if his simple question had given her permission to talk and she opened up, telling Bryan all about herself as he worked. It seemed that she felt as comfortable with him as he did with her.

An only child, she was born to elderly parents who thought they couldn’t have children. They considered her a blessing from heaven and doted on her, despite the fact that they had little money. Her mother had made jewelry that she sold in the markets, and her father had done construction. But they were both too old to work now, so Layla had given up any dream of going to college and instead found a job to pay the bills. Five hundred dollars would go a long way.

When Bryan had finished, she came over to look at the miniature. “You’re really very good,” she said.

He shrugged and mumbled thanks, giving his work an objective eye. Jan Van Eyck’s gift had served him well, and his signature had never seemed more fitting: ALC IXH XAN, “As I can.” He willed himself to believe the words. As I can. I can. I will remember.

Layla interrupted his thoughts. “Do you have a guide to show you the city? I can show you some sights tomorrow if you like?” She grinned at him. “Help to really earn that money.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, though he wouldn’t mind the company. He wanted to get out of this hotel room.

“I don’t mind. And I promised your girlfriend I’d take good care of you,” she admitted, teasing him. “I can’t let her know you stayed cooped up here the whole time.”

“You met Linz?” he asked in surprise.

Layla looked embarrassed. “She was leaving and gave me her card … wanted to know my name. She seems like a very serious person.”

Bryan frowned. Linz gave Layla her card? He knew that meant Layla was somehow important—otherwise Linz wouldn’t have singled her out.

“I’ll pick you up at nine,” she said, moving to the door.

“Are you taking me to the Great Pyramid?” he asked.

“Of course. It’s the first place we’ll go.”

*

The swarm of vendors selling their wares wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. Bryan’s attention was jockeyed from person to person as he tried to push his way through the throng. But the chaos was oddly comforting. It kept him from focusing on the Great Pyramid towering a hundred feet away.

Bryan followed Layla through the crowd with a faith he didn’t understand. All he knew was that he never would have had the courage to come here if it hadn’t been for her.

As they moved forward, they almost got separated. She looked behind her and reached out to grab his hand. He gazed into her eyes and suddenly saw himself as a young girl, running hand-in-hand with her—and in that moment Bryan remembered who she was.

She was Kiya.

His heartbeat began to race, as every memory from that life in Egypt began to return to him like blood circling back to the heart. Bryan’s pulse quickened as his feet kept moving him toward the Great Pyramid, until he stood just a few yards away from it. He closed his eyes and, as his palms made contact with the weathered stones, he remembered it all: the power of this Sleeping Giant, the untold atrocities that had happened here, and the mission that had been given to him.

Bryan felt Hermese expand within him. She had been there all along—a shadow he couldn’t see, a feeling he couldn’t describe, a sense of longing he couldn’t explain.

He opened his eyes and looked up at the pyramid and his heart filled with joy. Every life he had ever lived sounded within him in perfect harmony. His soul was singing.

The Guardian had awoken.

Bryan turned to Layla and saw Kiya’s spirit shining in her. How many times had they played here as children … of course, she should be the one to bring him home.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

He nodded, his heart filled with infinite gratitude at the gift life had just given him—all of his memories were now one.




FORTY-SEVEN

Gravestones stretched across the green like a thousand unlit candles. An enormous crowd had gathered to pay their respects to Conrad Jacobs. At a freshly dug grave, a priest performed the burial rites.

Linz stood at the front, with Penelope and Derek at her side. She watched as the coffin was lowered into the ground next to her mother and brother’s grave.