February 15, 1923 - Valley of the Kings, Egypt

580

Jumping to the 21^st century to give an update on my progress. Soon as I get this online, I’m heading back to the 1920s.

This would be my second time in Egypt. Though I’m not sure the first time counts, as I didn’t really have time to do much sightseeing. Trying to prevent the imminent apocalypse really distracts you something awful.

Even ignoring the lack of explosions, hordes of monsters, and flower themed gods that can cut you with their mind that took up most of the scenery on my last visit, something about the place felt… different. Weird. I did a lot of research before arriving about Richard Walsh’s dig, mostly so I could go right to it when I got to the time period, but now I’m not sure I needed to. The minute I set foot in the city of Luxor, I knew where I had to go. Something was calling me there, something I felt inside myself. Doing anything but following that call was out of the question.

From Luxor, I traveled to the Theban Necropolis. Richard’s dig site was located in the Valley of the Kings; with the discovery of King Tut’s tomb being recent at this time, Miskatonic University was scrambling to try and get in on the uncovering lost tombs action. Because if there’s one thing Miskatonic University loves, it’s discovering ridiculously old and powerful artifacts. Seriously, that place is like a magnet for world ending tools from eons in the past.

Didn’t take long to find their camp once I entered the Valley. Hired local help was doing digging stuff or something near it, I wasn’t paying attention. My path took me straight to the large white tent where the university staff was looking over dug up pottery, or whatever it is archeology people do for fun.

Saw Richard sitting by a map of the area, surrounded by others from Miskatonic. They all seemed far more interested in whatever story he was telling than the contents of said map. It took a few moments for me to get used to seeing him looking so young; had I not seen pictures of him at this age, it might have taken me a while to recognize him.

Richard stood up when he saw me enter. “Hello there, ma’am.” If he’d had a hat, I expect he’d have tipped it. “It’s not often we get visitors out here. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“You’re searching for the Tomb of the Gods mentioned in Abdul Alhazred’s Necronomicon?”

The directness of the question appeared to surprise him, and his response was a stuttered yes.

I walked over to the map, took out a knife, and stabbed it down (I generally find it’s smart to make a good first impression when visiting times prior to Second Wave Feminism.) “You’re twenty miles too far north.”

Wait what was that I just said the reports I read on the expedition never said anything about the actual location of the tomb where did I get that number from.

“Excuse me?” Okay good I’m not the only one confused.

“Alhazred described the Tomb being located within a valley, but it’s not the Valley of the Kings. The tomb you’re looking for predates the Theban Necropolis by a significant margin. This necropolis was built near the location of the original tomb, but not in the original valley.” I have no idea where these words were coming from. I don’t remember thinking them. Hell, I don’t know how I knew any of what I was telling him. It all just came out of my mouth without any input on my part.

He glanced at the map. “But there are no valleys where you’re saying we should go!”

“Not currently. The geography’s changed significantly since the fall of the Tomb. The man you hired as a guide should know the actual location.” What guide? What the hell was I talking about?

“But our guide was the one who led us here!”

“He lied.”

The rest of the university staff seemed to be getting a bit pissed at being ignored, and one of them stepped forward. His attempt at anger was only made comedic by the ridiculous moustache he was sporting. “Now see here miss, who do you think you are, just coming in here and acting like you’re in charge?”

“My name’s I-330. Perhaps you’ve seen me on your university’s donor list.” There we go, that got a reaction. “Given the number of zeroes there were in the last check I gave to Miskatonic, I would say yes. I am in charge. Now call your guide in, I need to talk to him.”

The man with the moustache rushed out of the tent, likely hoping to avoid further embarrassment. Glanced over at Richard, who’s frustration had left him very quickly. He was looking at me with a smile and one of his eyebrows raised in curiosity. “You know,” he said, “I’ve come across the name I-330 several times before, and not just in our school’s financial records. You’ve appeared in quite a number of historical records.”

“Yeah, well I travel around a lot.”

“Apparently so. I must say, you look remarkably well for a woman over two hundred years old.”

“I moisturize.”

He laughed at that, and held out his hand. “Richard Walsh. It’s a pleasure to meet you face to face.”

We shook hands right as the mustached guy was coming in, leading an Egyptian man. “What do you need from me, sirs?” The Egyptian said.

I looked at him, and I said… actually I have no idea what I said. Whatever language I was speaking in, I don’t recognize. It wasn’t Arabic; I know Arabic, and this sounded nothing like that. It sounded nothing like any language I’d heard before. The only place I remember hearing anything like it is in my dreams….

The guide turned pale when he heard me speak. He seemed to be the only one in the tent who understood what I was saying, as everyone else just looked confused. Soon as I’d finished, he ran over to the map, and made a very theatrical gasp. “Mr. Walsh!” His nervousness was causing his English to become heavily accented. “I have made a terrible error! The Tomb is much further south of where we are! I apologize most strongly! I shall tell the workers to prepare to move immediately!” He rushed out of the tent, glancing back once to look at me.

“How… how did you do that?” Richard said.

“Would you believe me if I said I have no idea?”

“No.”

“Well then your honesty is appreciated. Come on, you guys need to get packed up. I’d prefer if we got to the Tomb sooner rather than later.”

I-330