A long pause. Netiqret expressionless as she considers, tapping long, elegant fingers together. “You’re saying you are from the desert.”
“Yes.”
Netiqret doesn’t react. “Ka has been taking a keen interest in your friend. Is that why?”
“No. When I arrived, I helped him escape. From … being made into something like an Overseer.”
“But worse,” adds Ahmose from behind me.
Again, a long silence as Netiqret assesses. I press against the bars. “Look. We came in good faith—”
“You came shouting my name to anyone who would listen. Which is the opposite of courteous, in my profession. And I do not know what has possessed you to make this claim of yours, but you are not from outside. No one is from outside, and I have never helped anyone leave Duat. I am not so cruel as that.” Her voice is hard.
Vek. “I’m telling the truth. I don’t know why Djedef said you helped him, but he did.” Djedef wasn’t able to lie when he was being questioned by Caeror. Could it be another Netiqret who assisted him? It seems unlikely. “He did think you were a man, though.”
“Men always do.”
I make a face. “Could you have assisted him without actually meeting him, though? He was wearing one of these.” I hold up the scarab medallion she gave us earlier.
She doesn’t fall into the trap of coming close enough for me to reach through the bars at her. Still, there’s something in her expression. The barest hint of hesitation. “I do not part withkhepriso easily.”
“You seem happy to part with at least two.” I lower my gaze to the scarabimage in my hand. I’m in shadow, head slightly bowed. Hopefully she cannot see my eyes, and if she can, does not know what their darkening means.
I imbue the amulet.
I’ve done something similar before. A thought experiment with Caeror to prove how different Adoption makes the rules, here. The Academy taught us that imbued objects are inviolable, immune from another’s Will until the original imbuing Will is removed. But in Obiteum, that is simply untrue.
It’s unfortunate that Obiteum’s rules also mean I can’t make a weapon out of it, the way I could back home on Res. But I don’t think I need to right now, anyway.
“They will be easy to collect again soon enough.” It’s happened in a second and as far as I can see, without causing suspicion. Netiqret’s gaze flits between Ahmose and me, then she shakes her head impatiently, the beads of her broad collar swaying with the motion. “It will take many hours for this room to fill, Siamun. Your death will be slow. Perhaps when I return tomorrow, if fate has been kind, you will have another opportunity to convince me of who you are.” She turns as if to walk away.
“Wait.” She pauses, and I lean forward. Flip the amulet to her. She catches it neatly, a genuinely surprised look on her face. “A gift.”
She examines it suspiciously. “You will die sooner, without this.”
I shrug. “I’ve told you the truth, so soon is better than slow.”
Her brow furrows. Then she snorts and, with a guiding hand on the young girl’s shoulder, strides from sight.
“Tellme you have a plan.” Ahmose’s voice is small behind me.
“Shh.” I close my eyes and focus. My sense of the amulet is vague, but strong enough to be sure it’s genuinely retreating. “Alright. She’s gone.”
“And we are going todissolve.”
“We are not going to dissolve, Ahmose,” I tell him patiently. “I’m still controlling the Overseer. She’s on her way down here.”
“Oh.” An exhalation of pure relief. “And we’re already in the east now, so all we need to do is find a way up, and—”
“No.” Even if we can find the way out—and I’m not convinced we can—I’d have to start again, up there. Hide constantly. Use my ability to slowly figure out some plan to get me into Ka’s temple. But I’ve already wasted so much time. “Netiqret called herself something, before. Amesektet.” I make it a question.
Ahmose’s face scrunches into a mask of distaste. “She’s an assassin.”
“She’s paid to kill people?”
“She’s paid to kill peopleneatly.” Ahmose sees my confusion and sighs. “You understand the role of Westerners who are allowed back into the east, yes?”
“They’re servants, for those who can afford them.” That’s been my understanding, at least. “Sometimes for very successful artisans or merchants, but mostly for priests and government officials.”
