Neff felt the sting of humiliation deep in her chest.Fool, she thought bitterly.What made you think the goddess would speak to you?
Then, all at once, a fierce wind began to blow, like whispers through papyrus reeds. It carried the same intoxicating smell as before, but stronger. Many in the crowd cried out and covered their faces as the khamasin lifted whorls of sand, sending pricking clouds into their eyes. Neff braced herself and squinted at the palanquin. Unlike everyone else, the litter bearers stood resolute as the sand struck their bodies. The wind lifted the canopy’s filmy curtains in a slow, undulating dance, removing the only barrier between Neff and the goddess. Neff stared, her eyes locking on Bast’s dark face.
Behind her, the priestess began to shake her sistrum once more, the percussive sound growing louder and more ominous with every passing second.
The goddess’s feline face loomed large above her, one moment the tranquil, gentle face of a mother looking down upon one of its children, and the next—
The cat became a lioness.
And she roared.
Neff screamed as her mind was suddenly battered with images. Visions of darkness and desolation and blood. So much blood.
The lamb.
The lamb.
The lamb.
The images were unrelenting.
She knew at once that she’d seen them before, but not like this, never like this, not with her fragile waking mind. Neff tried to close her eyes, but her body wouldn’t respond. She felt as if an invisible hand had reached out from beyond the veil and held her fast. Her screams turned to sobs of terror.
The lamb.
The lamb.
The lamb.
She saw it all. The desert. The grievous wound and the crimson wool. The sea of blood. Seared into her mind like a sizzling brand. And the words of the lamb. She heard those, too.
Then, as if someone had yanked her up from the bottom of the sea—it was over. The images stopped, the sistrum quieted, the wind eased. And as it did, the blowsy curtains fell back in place, shielding the goddess from sight.
Neff gasped like a drowning girl coming up for air.
She blinked, dizzy and confused. Her face was damp with tears. She wavered, unsteady on her feet, her mind caught between dreaming and waking. A small frightened moan passed through her lips, and she collapsed onto the dusty road.
The high priestess was the first to reach her as the crowd erupted in confusion.
“What happened, child?” the woman asked, kneeling by her side.
Neff curled into a fetal position, her palms pressed against her eyes. “I remember… I remember…” she cried over and over again. “The lamb…”
Half a dozen people, including Neff’s parents, pressed closer,all of them trying to see for themselves what had happened.
“Move away!” the priestess shouted in irritation. “Give her some air.”
The people took a couple steps back.
“Come,” the priestess urged, gently pulling Neff’s hands from her eyes to help her to her feet. “Get up if you can. We can’t have you lying in the middle of the—”
The priestess stopped abruptly, her jaw slack. Behind her, the crowd fell silent.
Neff blinked into the blazing sunlight, bewildered by the wide-eyed faces encircling her.
Why do they look so scared?
Suddenly self-conscious, she sat up, wiping at her tears. It was only then that she noticed the red smears on her fingers. The sight of it sent her head spinning—had she cut her palms in the fall? But no, her hands were uninjured. Where was the blood coming from?
