Free Exodus by J.F. Penn Page B

the notebook are about. If Moses was indeed an Egyptian priest escaping from those who would bring down the monotheism of Akhenaten’s reign, then this would be the place he would have fled to. The biblical reference to the golden calf is considered a reference to the goddess Hathor, depicted with cow ears. The temple here is dedicated to her.” He paused.  
    “But there’s something else. There are indications that this was a site of ritual alchemy, where the Egyptians transformed gold into a miraculous powder. That’s really why we’re here, because it may explain some of the mysteries of the Ark, and because Abasi had some question marks in his journal about it.”
    Morgan leaned back as they drove the last few kilometers to the temple, wondering how strange this search could become. The Ark was surrounded by myth and legend, but there was a kernel of truth there somewhere. Certainly enough that it was worth pursuing the clues in the time that they had. She had sworn to Jake that she would bring Natasha down, and if she found the Ark first, Morgan would go to her. But if she and Khal found it, Natasha would come to them. Either way, there would be a reckoning, and within the next few days, because the Peace Summit wasn’t far away.  
    Khal pulled into what could be called a car park, but was really just a wider area on the badly maintained road. A man in a dusty jacket and trainers over his traditional dress squatted by the side of the road, sipping from a glass bottle of Coke. Khal raised his hand in greeting and the man slowly stood, watching as they got out the car.  
    “Salaam alaikum,” Khal said, in the traditional Arabic greeting.  
    “Alaikum as-salaam,” the guide responded. He accepted the envelope of money that Khal held out, then nodded at Morgan and headed up towards the ridge and the temple grounds beyond.  
    “Friendly guy,” Morgan said.  
    “The locals are charged with stopping looters but so few people come here, their main job is just to take some money for the nearby villages. He’ll hang back and we can explore on our own.”  
    There were no paved roads up the mountain, so it was a vigorous walk to the top. The place was a ruin with little attention from the tourist trade and they picked their way through the rubble-strewn landscape towards the cave of Hathor. Ancient stele and obelisks poked up through the field of stones and Morgan stopped to trace the letters on one of them.  
    “It looks like some kind of hieratic script.” She turned to Khal. “Do you know what it means?”  
    “There’s still controversy, even after a hundred years after Petrie came here. The language is unknown and the hieroglyphs are not from any known dialect, so this place is quite the mystery. The deepest knowledge of the ancients is still hidden from view, protected from those who would cheapen it for a few dollars.”  
    His voice was passionate and Morgan wondered what else this handsome academic was keeping to himself. They rounded a rocky corner and the full expanse of the temple came into view. Above ground, the temple was constructed from sandstone quarried from the mountain itself, blending into the landscape using natural rocky features as part of the building. A series of adjoining halls, shrines, courts and chambers were all set within the main enclosure.  
    “It’s this way to the cave of Hathor,” Khal pointed, “which is where Abasi’s notebook says the alchemical symbols can be found.”  
    They walked into the entrance and immediately the temperature cooled. Feeling the chill on her skin, Morgan breathed in the air and let her senses widen. If Khal was right, this was where the ancient Egyptians sacrificed to their gods and where Moses ran to after the expulsion from Egypt. It felt reminiscent of the great tombs of the Valley of the Kings, where the bodies of royalty lay with their battalions of slaves for the afterlife. There was a sense of belief embedded in the walls