“And the Ka-shabti.”
It’s my turn to make a face. Ahmose has told me about the Ka-shabti at length, given he once crafted amulets and other jewellery almost exclusively for them. People who volunteer to live in a walled-off district of the city. Surrounded by luxury and excess, free to pursue their own interests but never required to work. Every need, every whim catered for by Westerners.
Until they are chosen to be sacrificed, that is.
“And the Ka-shabti,” I agree, trying not to show too much distaste.
The iunctus flicks absently at his thumb. “Sometimes, a member of the living will … catch someone else’s eye, I suppose. A particularly strong man, or a beautiful woman, or a skilled performer. Someone a member of the particularly wealthy desires to own. But they are alive. They are allowed rights, are protected by law. What are they to do?”
My stomach twists as I understand what he’s saying. “So Netiqret assassinates people who other people want?”
Ahmose nods, a little grimly. “Once they are dead, enough coin in the right priest’s pocket ensures their assignment to the east, to the right family.” His disapproval is thick, I’m glad to hear. Ahmose and I differ on many things, but this … this would have been too much to ignore.
I try to take it in. Murdering someone for money, because someone else wants to enslave their corpse. “Rotting gods. That’s what you meant by ‘neatly.’ They want the bodies to look good?”
“Amesektetuses poison, usually, I’ve heard. They’re meant to have toxins which mimic a natural, peaceful death.”
“And they would have to make sure they were never seen.” I nod slowly. It’s repulsive, but Netiqret must know everything there is to know about the layout of the city, to do this job. Know every secret way, even beyond the tunnels I’m aware of. “Else their victims would be able to identify them.”
Ahmose watches me. “You still wish to deal with her?”
I close my eyes. I’ve conveyed to the Overseer how to reach us; she’s alreadyloping her way to the underground canal. “‘Wish to’ is a strong way of putting it, but I don’t think we have a choice.” I switch to focusing on my faint sense of the amulet. Netiqret and her young companion haven’t gone far, aren’t moving fast, but they’ve already left the main tunnel. Hopefully, I can find the passage they’re using and catch them before they vanish.
We wait for another minute, neither of us saying anything. Then Ahmose stirs. “You’ve really never made me do anything?”
There’s a gravity to his abrupt question that cuts through my thoughts. I look at him. “You don’t remember?”
“Siamun.” He watches the river through the bars. It’s been bothering him for a while, I think.
I chuckle. “No, Ahmose. Gods. No.”
“Why not? You used your power on Ibi.”
“He works the upper level, and I still need to eat. Besides, you were there—Itriedtalking to him first. I only did what I did when he couldn’t be reasoned with.”
“And if I can’t be reasoned with, one day?”
“One day?” When he frowns, I quickly raise my hand in apology. Too accustomed to making my own amusement at the expense of his lack of humour. “No. Never. Rule a man, and he will do whatever you can imagine. Befriend him, and he will do more.”
Gods, I miss my father.
Ahmose finally looks at me. Nods slowly.
I hold his gaze, then sigh. He needs more, and I need him to trust me. “Truth? It crossed my mind, that first day. I wasn’t sure you were ever going to be able to handle knowing about the Gleaners.” Those, I soon discovered, are considered little more than a myth in Duat. “But there are lines I don’t wish to cross. Perhaps I could have justified it to myself. Perhaps. But that’s the point. I would have had to justify it to myself.”
Before he can respond there’s a shadow at the gate, and the black-clothed Overseer is standing on the other side. Not looking at us—she’s being obviously controlled, and if anyone has noticed, the last thing we need is her seeing our faces. But ready to obey.
I instruct her, and with a quick wrench she removes the gate from its hinges. Like the Gleaners, the Overseers seem able to self-imbue for strength, just as if they were in Res. Connected directly to Ka, I have to assume. I’ve tried myself, several times over the past months, without the same success.
“Let’s go,” says Ahmose, starting for the open way.
“Not yet.” I focus. Brace myself for the perception-distorting sickness of seeing through the Overseer’s eyes, then set off again immediately. She dashes along the side of the canal, following my sense of the amulet, her imbuing enabling her to ignore the noxious mists just as Ahmose and I did. I can vaguely hear Ahmose muttering something unfavourable in my ear, but whatever he’s saying, I ignore it. Keep my attention on catching Netiqret.
It doesn’t take long. The passageway leading in the direction of the amulet is an obvious one; I push the Overseer through it, quickly finding an entrance back into familiar, well-lit triangular tunnels. I’m not sure exactly where I am but it doesn’t matter; I follow my sense of Netiqret’skheprimedallion for another minute until finally, I turn a corner to spot two figures ahead.
I slow, and command the Overseer to call out. “Netiqret!”
The tall, elegant woman spins. Hand going to her belt as she glances immediately at the girl, who shakes her head silently and murmurs something I can’t hear, expressionless. Netiqret slowly turns back. Watches my approach. “With whom am I talking?” Remarkably poised, given the circumstances.
