flashquake Editor's Pick — Jonette Stabbert

Gifts of Anubis
by Lyn McConchie

This is a beautiful, original story told in the form of a myth. I love dogs and admire the Saluki breed. I'm also fascinated by the jackel-headed Egyptian god of death, Anubis. I could almost believe this was a real myth. I really loved this.

She was a mongrel. Ownerless, cast out by her dam's master to die. When she was a tiny puppy a cart wheel had severed most of her tail. As the runt of an over-large litter she had received little milk so that her short legs were further bowed with rickets. Her fur was patchy, and harsh, her ears small and ragged. Only her eyes were beautiful. A warm lustrous brown, they glowed with a need to love and be loved. But in a city filled with people there was no one to choose her. She was ugly, stunted and worthless in human eyes so that none reached out to claim her heart.

She roamed, slowly starving amid the crowds. Picking up scraps here and there. But need burned in her. Hunger both of the body and of her unfed soul. Without love a dog cannot live. As the days passed she grew weaker, drifting further out from the busy clatter of the central city. She was only a puppy still, she did not understand why she had been flung out, rejected, unwanted. But she had learned not to attempt return. Stones and kicks had ensured that.

Days crawled past as she wandered further from the home no longer hers. Her strength was fading as she stopped often to rest, panting in the small patches of shade not claimed by others. In a few more weeks she would slide into death nor would any care. The street she was on was quieter. She rose slowly to pad along it. At the end there was a building where she could find shade.

Pulled in by the scent of food she glided through the door. Oblivious to the watching eyes, a priest laid offerings upon the low altar. Then his sandals scuffed away across the brick floor.

The puppy was starving. With an eye for the door, an ear for returning steps she fell on the food, bolting it desperately. The bowl of milk was lapped to the last drops before she sat back shivering.

Power gathered. A God drawn by the desecration of his altar. He stood, gazing down at the tiny blasphemer. The pup looked up. Her short life had taught her fear, but she felt no terror now. This one was different. The body might be human, but the head was like hers, the eyes full of surprised kindness.

Anubis, Lord of the Dead, read her history in one encompassing glance. Then he looked into the brown eyes lifted so hopefully to his. In those he read more, a pride, a dignity, not yet destroyed. Heart hunger and hope, a belief in life as yet unjustified. The wish to live burned like a clear flame in this abused daughter. Anubis shrugged, what did he have to do with Life?

But compassion stirred within the Jackal-headed God. She was kin, the small one who stared up in trust. Of what use was his power if now and again he could not change its use. He smiled as his hands went out to gather her in.

The puppy slept dreaming, as he studied her. His fingers stroked the mutilated tail, slid down the short weak bowed legs. He caressed the ragged ears, the thin flanks. Then his hands lifted above the dreaming form. It would please him to do this. Just for once to reverse his power, giving life instead of death. He smiled, speaking softly.

"I give you pride and the heart of the desert wind, little daughter. I give you beauty without, that my worshipers shall see the beauty within. These gifts shall be yours and your children's so long as the winds still blow across desert sands." He watched the transformation with gentle pleasure.

It would not do to have her stay here. But a God knows the hearts of his people. There was a man who would love this new child of Anubis. He sent her there, to lie sleeping before the household shrine, to be found by one who would cherish her.

And cherished she was. Daughter of the desert wind and the hunt, change-child of a God.

After her were strong sons, fleet daughters. At first they had no name but later it would be known. They were the Saluki, the favoured of Anubis, and a hundred lands gave them honour.

Copyright 1997 by Lyn McConchie

HOME | Contributors | Archives | Contact | Guidelines