The Book of Lost Fragrances

Sixty-two

ALEXANDRIA, EGYPT, 32 BCE

Censers burned in each corner of the room. A cloud of the finest incense hung over the wooden chests, the finely carved and gilded chairs and chaises. The ceiling was painted with a rich lapis lazuli and a silver astronomical star chart. Cut into the walls were several doors, one larger than the others. Delicate and detailed murals, beautifully rendered in earth tones, decorated the walls. The stylized motif of water lilies that bordered the crypt and framed the paintings illustrated Thoth’s favorite flower, the blue lotus.

In the center of the chamber was a black granite sarcophagus, five times the size of an ordinary man. Its polished surface was carved with cartouches and inlaid with a turquoise and lapis portrait of a beautiful, catlike man with blue water lilies around his head. He was Nefertum, the god of perfume.

“You have to be very careful, Iset. If your husband becomes suspicious, you won’t be safe.” Thoth was trying to tell her what he wanted her to do once he was gone, but she could barely listen.

It was her fault that Thoth had broken his promise to the queen. Iset had begged him to let her smell the fragrances he was creating despite his promise to his sovereign that they were for her nose alone.

Now his treachery was going to cost him his life. Cleopatra was to have him publicly executed in two days time-a lesson to anyone else who thought about betraying her.

But Thoth was not going to wait to be humiliated. He was going to take his own life. He was a priest. A perfumer. Had all the herbs and plants needed to mix up a fatal poison.

“I’ve made two of these jars. This one is for you. Leave instructions that it’s to be buried with you, as mine will be buried with me. As long as we take this perfume with us into the afterlife,” Thoth said, “we’ll always be able to find each other.”

Iset took the jar from Thoth. Felt its smooth roundness in the palm of her hand. Cupped it. Closed her eyes. Iset breathed in the scent. Thoth had told her what was in it. Frankincense, myrrh. Honey. Blue Lily. Persimmon from the groves Mark Antony had imported and planted for his bride.

Once she’d found out about the scent of soul mates, Iset was relentless in getting Thoth to let her smell it. Together they shared visions of the past. Of the people they had been before. Long before. When they were together in another life, as Thoth explained.

Now because of her greed and curiosity, she was going to have to say good-bye to him and live without him.

It was unthinkable.

The draught of poison that he’d prepared sat on a small wooden table. The cobalt-blue glass shimmered in the candlelight. Was cold to the touch. On her fingers. And then on her lips.

“No!” Thoth shouted as he reached for it and grabbed it from her.

A trickle of poison slid down her chin.

Thoth examined what was left of the liquid.

“Did I drink enough?” Her voice was light. She wouldn’t be left behind. She would go with him.

“More than enough. Do you understand what you did, you fool? There’s no antidote. I can’t save you.” Then, lifting the glass to his mouth, he put his lips where hers had been. And he drank.

“No one knows where I am. I’ve disappeared from my husband’s home. My death will be a secret. As long as I can be buried with you, that’s all that matters. Leave instructions for your embalmers.”

“Why did you do this? You could have lived. You weren’t in danger. Your husband didn’t know.”

“What’s going to happen?” She ignored his remonstrations. “Will it hurt?”

“No. We’ll just go to sleep. Hold each other and go to sleep in this beautiful place…”

“Kiss me now.”

He took her in his arms. She tasted the bitter poison on his lips. Happy, she thought, I’m happy here in this man’s arms. Then she felt something wet on her cheeks and pulled away. The tears weren’t hers; they were his, coursing down his face. She didn’t mind leaving this world for the next. He was her world. Without him, she wouldn’t have wanted to live. But not so for Thoth. In his eyes were regrets.

“What is it?”

“My work isn’t finished.”

It was all her fault. She’d caused his misery. What she had done to him was unforgivable. If only she could take it back. If she could do it over. If she could change his fate.

Iset wanted to kiss away the sadness in his eyes but knew she couldn’t. She put her lips back on his. At least they could kiss their way to death.