Table 2. The Seven Cosmic Powers

the enigmatic tradition of the sanctuaries, the words that brought the god into his shrine and the acts that protected the sacred precinct.

Eventually, the prince withdrew from palace life altogether. After marrying his childhood companion Mehusekha and begetting handsome children by her, he found a home in the formidable school of Ptah at Memphis, where he was invested as high priest to oversee of all the scriptoriums in the Lower Kingdom. Here he could certainly indulge his passion, spending hours inspecting the ancient scrolls, ordering eager young scribes to copy the rare books, and strolling through the vast necropolis of the city to read the wondrous inscriptions on the great ancestral monuments.

It was during one of those casual walks one afternoon in the city of the dead that Khaemwas encountered an old sorcerer, one infrequently seen among the crumbling tombs in the dusk hours. Though he seemed to avoid the company of others who went about their business in this place, on this occasion the sorcerer approached Khaemwas and spoke unpretentiously to him. "Venerable prince, I am told that you seek the great secrets of our ancestors and that you walk among these old tombs in the hope of finding such treasures." "Well, what do you know of these things?" Khaemwas responded, rather surprised at the encounter. He waved his flywisk in the air to dispel the dust and scrutinized the wizened old man. '1\h," he said knowingly. "I know much of these things. In fact, I know of a tome that you have never seen, a book written by the hand of Djehuti himself. It exists right under your nose, you know."

Khaemwas ceased waving the flywisk and looked at the man intently. "Your speech is sacrilege," he said, "The noble book you speak of has been returned to the gods because men have made poor use of it. No one knows its whereabouts."

Indeed, the book of Djehuti, divine scribe to the gods, was fabled for centuries to contain the formula for charming the wind, the spirits of the mountains and waters, and knowing the language of birds and beasts. It was also said to endow 1ts owner with the power to see the spirits in shadow worlds, and to see Ra in the sky with his retinue of attendant divinities. These secrets were no longer known to the living, because the book was protected by Djehuti himself.

But the old sorcerer did seem to know the whereabouts of the book. He led his scholarly companion to a simple tomb, down timeworn steps hidden by a

broken lintel, and through an unsealed door that looked like a solid wall. There he saw the legendary book, wrapped with the swathings of its former owner. It was so powerful that its light illuminated the whole of the chamber.

Khaemwas was overwhelmed by the discovery. Without compunction he seized the prize and clutched it in excitement, nearly overcome with a mixture of awe and joy. But as quickly as he had taken possession of the book, a ghost appeared in the shadows, warning him against his deed. "I paid for knowing the secrets of Djehuti's book with my life, and the lives of my wife and son," the apparition declared, "You must not take it, ever!"

Khaemwas was not unnerved by the appearance of the specter, being an accomplished magician. From his occult studies and temple training, he understood that spirits could do no permanent harm to the living, though they could certainly bring havoc. "Indeed, I shall take this book," he responded with courage. "I am a scholar and high priest, and I possess the authority to examine this artifact."

The ghost moved closer to him, but failed to deter his visitor. "Well then," he said, "You may prove yourself worthy to take it if you play a game of draughts with me and win it thereby." He pointed to a worn set of hounds and jackals on a table.

Khaemwas sat sagaciously at the gaming board, assured that he would succeed at the ghost's challenge. It was actually amusing, he thought, that a mere shade, confined to this little chamber, would try to frighten him with this bluff.

But after two losses to the ghost, he realized that the third and last play could jeopardize his conviction. He sent the sorcerer to bid one of his scribes to bring the books of magic in his library and, for good measure, the amulets of protection against nefarious powers. With the assistance of these things, he did triumph at the gaming board, and liberated the prize from its moldering cache. As he moved toward the exit of the funerary vault, the light of the book went with him, leaving the chamber in darkness. "You will return the book!" the ghost admonished from the shadows.

But Khaemwas hurried out of the tomb, up the worn steps, and into the shadows of the twilight. Satisfied that he had acquired the prize honorably, he did not even turn to heed the words.