The room fell silent once again, all eyes turned to her.
“The raid on the Medjay was successful because Asim had a clever plan. His plan minimized violence and focused on a specific objective. If we’re going to take back Sakesh, we must do the same—but on a much larger scale. We cannot do it with a dozen fighters. The Horizon must encompass all that the light touches.”
Rae glanced uncertainly around the stable, but no one protested.
She went on. “First, we must spread the word far and wide. The weavers will help expand our outreach to every corner of the city, but we must do it quietly. We cannot afford to be betrayed again.”
She turned to Menk. “Work with them to gather our forces and begin to strategize next steps. If blood must be shed, so be it—but let’s try not to spill any more than necessary.”
Menk nodded, but his brow furrowed. “It’s a good plan, Rae, but why me? Shouldn’t you be the one leading the charge?”
Rae shook her head. “Omari and I, and a few others—if they’re willing, of course—will be busy with another mission.”
Omari had been standing with his arms crossed, lookingaggrieved, but he perked up at this. “What mission?”
Rae gripped the scepter in her hand, the weight of it keeping her rooted to the earth. Her eyes drifted to the window, to the smoldering ruin of her old life, her old self.
“If we want to win this,” she said, “we can’t limit our fight to Sakesh alone. Every city and village is affected by High Khetaran rule, not just us. If the king wants to send a message by abducting and executing our people—well, we need to send a message too.” She paused, thrilled and terrified by what she was going to say next.
“We must take our fight to the pharaoh himself.”
The stable went still. Even the sheep seemed to recognize something momentous was happening, and all turned their unsettling eyes upon her.
“Menk, Tam—we’ll need all the information we can get, and quickly. Building a resistance in Sakesh will help us win the battle, but we need to strike at the heart of the kingdom if we want to win the war.” She gripped the scepter tightly in her hand. “As soon as we can make ourselves ready, we sail for Thonis.”
A moment passed, and Rae was afraid she’d gone too far. Asked too much.
Then, a voice spoke up. It was Buto.
“I’m with you.”
“And me,” Tam said.
“And me,” said the old soldier.
Others spoke until every voice in the room had joined the chorus, was heeding the call. And with each offering, Rae’s heart lifted a little more.
A meaty hand clamped onto her shoulder. Omari’s. “To Thonis,” he said to her with a nod.
Rae nodded back, and the others began speaking together at once, all the recent tragedies transformed, alchemically, into action. Rae closed her eyes and sent a message out into themidnight heavens, hoping that somehow, it would be delivered to its recipient.
Father, I’m coming.
32
Karim
He kept watch while the princess slept.
They’d reached a shallow valley at dusk and decided it was a good place to stop for the night. The rocky walls on either side shielded them from the river, so that anyone passing wouldn’t see the fire. They’d eaten a meager meal, and he offered to stay awake for the first half of the night so she could rest. The princess had agreed without complaint, bedding down on the sandy ground and falling asleep, curled like a cat into the blanket he’d purchased back at the Thonis market. For a girl who’d probably only slept on a plush bed, she didn’t seem to mind rough living.
Behkai dozed next to her, his great black head resting on her legs. It was as if the dog knew their time together was limited, so he was soaking up as much of Sitamun’s presence as he could.
Karim poked the small campfire they’d built from his supply of dung cakes until the embers flared.
Come tomorrow, I’ll be on my own again, he thought. He couldn’t blame the princess for wanting to part ways. He’d helped her escape Thonis, but he was still a stranger to her. He’d surprised himself with how much he’d wanted her to join him on his journey to Perset. Maybe he’d been alone too long and was merely desperate for a companion who wouldn’t lick his face.
Although if Sitamun did such a thing, he probably wouldn’t complain.
