intent but by a fluke of design, by the arrangement of
thin, pale lips and small dark eyes, a hawklike nose and
wide forehead, all set in a massive skull adorned by a
carefully shorn ring of steel-gray hair. He had not been
a handsome man in life. His afterlife as a soul reaper
had not improved that.
Turning away from the endless line of petitioners, he
returned to Sutekh’s greeting chamber. It was a vast
space with pale sandstone walls and floor. The ceiling
22
SINS OF THE HEART
was high. The columns that ran the length of the room
bore brilliant paintings: the river, the delta, rich soil and
fields and classic Egyptian depictions of slaves at their
labor. The back of the chamber opened to a secluded
garden with palm trees and lotus blossoms and a
tranquil pool that played home to exotic fish from the
river Nile.
The room itself was mostly empty, save for a small
seating arrangement at the far end. The chairs were
made of fine wood from Lebanon, inlaid with silver
and ivory and tightly stretched leather. Above that
seating area, raised on a dais, was a single chair, elaborately carved and decorated with gold—in truth, a
throne—occupied by Gahiji’s master.
Today, Sutekh had chosen to be beautiful, to wear
the guise of humanity, to take on the fair coloring of
three of his four sons. It was a lie. He looked nothing
like the golden-skinned, golden-haired man who sat,
regal and relaxed, upon his golden throne. Sutekh
changed his appearance like others changed clothes.
