Armor your heart, she thought once more, smiling at her parents as she fought back tears.Remember why you’re here.
Then Herihor, the ram-headed priest, stepped forward and raised his arms to the sky. The people fell silent.
“Praise to Amun, King of the Air, Mysterious of Form, God of All That Is Seen and Unseen. Today we rejoice in the ascension of your humble servant and messenger to the throne of Khetara.”
Meryamun stepped forward, chin high, his body glistening with sacred oils.
“I name you,” said the falcon-masked priest, “Horus of Gold, Divine of Appearance, Lord of the Two Lands.” He handed him the crook.
“I name you,” said the ibis-masked priest, “Mighty Bull, Arising in Thonis, He of the Two Ladies, Enduring in Kingship.” He handed him the flail.
Neff had been watching this exchange when she was distracted by a flicker of light in the crowd, just below the platform. Three women stood together, three very strange women. They were dressed in ornate, extravagant gowns, one in white, one in black, and one in green. The woman in white was sand-skinned and pale eyed, and when she saw Neff look at her, she bowed her head. The woman in black was a somber reflection of the first woman, with eyes like deep pools and hair black as midnight. When she saw Neff’s eyes meet hers, she put a finger to her lips. Both women’s hair was dyed deep blue. The one in green was a mottled, stout old woman who gave Neff a too-wide smile and a knowing wink.
Are they performers? Dancers? If so, why aren’t they up on the platform with the others?
She’d never seen the three women before, and yet something about them felt familiar. Neff felt her mind drift to that middle place between heaven and earth, to the center of the flame where her visions were born.
Her mind swimming, as if in a waking dream, she turned back to the coronation ritual, which was nearly complete.
“I name you,” declared the ram-masked priest, who loomed larger than before, “Meryamun, Son of Amun, He Whose Face Is the Sun.”
At this, the prince dipped his head, and the priest placed the double crown on his brow.
Neff watched the face of the priest change from a painted mask to a real ram’s head, with long twisting horns and strange, horizontal eyes. Amun—or was it Khnum? They were both rams, after all. Perhaps one had led to the other, or perhaps they were one and the same: gods hidden within gods, streams all flowing to the same river.
Much is hidden.
“Arise, King of Khetara,” boomed the priest.
But much will be revealed.
King Meryamun stepped up to her. Still in that surreal dreaming place, Neff flinched. The king blazed so brightly that her eyes hurt to look at him.
The sun shines, said a voice within her,but it also burns.
Had she heard that voice before? Those words? She couldn’t be sure.
Meryamun took the ceremonial mace from her hands and turned to Kenna, who had advanced to the middle of the platform. Despite the brightness of the day, he stood in shadow. His was a soft inner glow, like moonlight. Two brothers—one dazzlingly bright, the other shrouded in darkness. They were incomplete, Neff realized. Without the princess, they were out of balance.
Where is she? Neff wondered, her mind drifting to the oracle.Where is Sitamun?
“As is tradition,” Herihor announced, “the king and his brother will now conduct the unification ceremony. With this ritual, we honor our ancestors with a reenactment of the creation of our kingdom, when the first great pharaoh smote his enemy and united our two lands. With this ritual, may Khetara be victorious over her enemies forevermore!”
Kenna came forward and knelt before the new king. He placed his hands behind his back, like a prisoner awaiting execution.With relish, Meryamun took a handful of his brother’s hair in his hand and pulled, forcing Kenna to look up at him. Then he raised the heavy mace above his head.
Kenna closed his eyes as if in prayer.
Neff’s heart began to race.It’s pretend, she told herself.He won’t hurt him.
But she saw the pleasure in Meryamun’s face, and she was afraid, and nearly cried out as the mace crashed down—
Before it could crush Kenna’s skull, the mace stilled, harmlessly touching the top of Kenna’s head like a kiss.
Meryamun released his grip on his brother’s hair, and Kenna’s head dropped in a pretense of death.
The crowd roared with approval.
Neff slumped with relief.
