Read The Memory Painter: A Novel Online
Authors: Gwendolyn Womack
The Memory Painter: A Novel (40 page)
“After I remembered everything, I realized he had spoken as Ramses to Michael that night at his apartment. Michael just couldn’t understand him. Finn remembered Seth at around the same time. When Finn realized who Conrad was, he knew he had to separate us. Conrad’s decision to show up at the lab made Finn desperate.”
Linz still felt confused. “But how did you know Finn was Seth?”
“The sundial in his home was the symbol of the Apophis.”
Linz had forgotten about the sundial, but Bryan was right. Its shape and design were identical to the emblem Seth had worn around his neck.
Bryan saw the worry on her face and gave her another hug. “It’ll be all right.”
She nodded, her heart welling within her. They had done it. They had built the bridge that could lead to a future few dared to hope for—a future where the Hall of Records would be restored.
The prophecy claimed that the First Time would come again, when the Hall of Records was discovered and Horus returned to help heal the world. The Brotherhood had sworn an oath to pave his way.
“Getting the book is going to be hard,” Linz said.
Bryan nodded, growing thoughtful. “We need to join the others first.”
“You know where they are?” Her face lit up with hope.
Bryan nodded, unable to explain how he knew. As the Brotherhood’s leader, he had sensed their presence like a divining rod. “I found Thutmose and Bast in Newfoundland. They’re archaeologists studying pyramids. I only realized who they were after Cairo.”
“And the others?” Linz asked, growing excited.
“Ma’at and Ammon are alive, but I’m not sure where they are.” Bryan said. He thought about the great debt he owed to Ma’at. She had been the Ancient One visiting his dreams and trying to guide him. Her abilities had been so immense that she had been able to walk in the dreamworlds of the future even then.
“And Ptah?” Linz asked, frowning at the strange look on Bryan’s face.
“Ptah is going to be a little tricky,” he said, and hesitated.
Somehow Linz knew what he was going to say. “Oh no.” She shook her head, hoping she was wrong.
“Oh yes,” he affirmed.
Barbara was Ptah. “Somehow I don’t think your mother’s going to handle the news well. I’ll let you figure out how to deal with that one.”
“Wonderful.” Bryan sighed and shook his head with a rueful smile.
Linz hurried to the hall closet. “We can deal with Ptah later. First we need to see Thutmose and Bast.” She got out her suitcase—it was already packed. “Let’s go to Canada.”
Bryan laughed. “Their names are Claudette and Martin and I called them yesterday.”
“Then let’s go.” She rolled her eyes as she got out her cell phone. “Yes, this is Linz Jacobs. I need the plane ready and a flight plan to St. John’s, Newfoundland. Excellent. We’ll see you this evening.”
She hung up, enjoying the incredulous look on Bryan’s face. Owning Medicor came with vast privileges—like having a private jet at your disposal. It would take getting used to, but Linz knew she and Bryan would need all of Medicor’s resources in the journey ahead. She could now see how Conrad had prepared the way for them.
“You have your own plane?”
“A Gulfstream 550. We can thank my dad the next time we see him.” She grew somber. Bryan kissed her hand.
“We will.”
Linz took his hand and led him to the sand garden. On the way, he stopped to admire the chess set she had laid out on the table. It was a Jaques of London original and probably worth a small fortune. He whistled.
“You ready to play me again?” he teased.
“Now that I’ve remembered how to beat you.” She had recalled her life with the great chess master Pedro Damiano. “Guess which other life I remembered?” she asked with a gleam in her eye. She pushed him down into the sand and called him by another name.
Bryan’s smile held the shadow of her ancient lover. “Hmm,” he murmured softly. “What else have you remembered?”
“Everything,” she said, her eyes shining.
The Brotherhood had returned.
I have many people to thank for this journey to publication. First, I’d like to acknowledge two amazing women: Brianne Johnson, my agent at Writers House, whose brilliance and passion blew me away as she became the captain of the ship and found
The Memory Painter
its home; and my editor, Elizabeth Bruce, who entered my life one unforgettable Monday like an incandescent firework and then continued to exceed my every expectation as we worked together. To both of these ladies, I will always be grateful.
My deepest thanks goes to everyone at Picador: Kolt Beringer, managing editor; production team Lisa Viviani Goris and David Lott; copyeditor Alda Trabucchi; marketing team Darin Keesler, Daniel Del Valle, Shannon Donnelly, Andrew Catania, and Angela Melamud; Executive Director of Publicity James Meader and my publicist, Andrea Rogoff; Devon Mazzone, for handling subsidiary rights, assisted by Hanna Oswald and Amber Hoover; Jonathan Bennett, interior designer; and Keith Hayes, for designing the book’s beautiful cover. Also a huge thanks to Lorissa Sengara, my Canadian editor with HarperCollins Canada, who worked so closely with Elizabeth on the editorial front, and to all the international publishing houses who have come aboard.
Thank you to Alan Greenspan, Julie-Ann Lee Kinney, and Todd Eikelberger at International Arts Entertainment, for their feedback and creative support so many years ago when I first started writing this story; Lucy Stille and Judith Karfiol; my first readers: Richard Devlin, who helped enormously as I waddled through the first draft, Janis Lull, Kate Maney, and Bridget Norquist; my second-round readers: Adam Gonzales, Mark Grimmett, and my father, Leo Womack. Thank you to John Hoffman and Indy Neidell, for research assistance; Bakara Wintner at Writers House, for help during several revisions; photographer JennKL; and web designer Mike Ross.
I would also like to give special acknowledgment to Christopher Dunn and his book
The Giza Power Plant,
as well as Graham Hancock and Robert Bauval and their book
Message of the Sphinx,
for being such an inspiration behind the ancient Egypt chapters.
Infinite gratitude goes to my sister, Alex, who was the first person to hear the idea for this story; all my family and friends; the ever-supportive Julia Burke; Sue Ebrahim; Charlotte Schillaci; Monika Telszewska; Robin Wilson; my mentor at CalArts, Lou Florimonte, for his deep love of story; Rick and Emma Ferguson, for the copper pyramid they made for me so many years ago; fellow writers Kate Maney, Beth Szmkowski, Kelly McCabe, and Cindy Yantis, aka the “Nic Chicks,” for the years of encouragement, laughter, and the traveling pants; and my husband and our son, who are my sunlight and inspire me every day.
My final thanks I’d like to give to the reader. I like to think that stories are akin to dreams. Thank you for sharing mine.
GWENDOLYN WOMACK
grew up in Houston, Texas. She studied theatre at the University of Alaska, Fairbanks, and then moved to California to pursue an MFA in Directing Theatre, Video, and Cinema at California Institute of the Arts. She now lives in Los Angeles with her husband and son.
The Memory Painter
is her first novel. You can sign up for email updates
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Contents
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
THE MEMORY PAINTER
. Copyright © 2015 by Gwendolyn Womack. All rights reserved. For information, address Picador, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
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Cover design by Keith Hayes
