Neff hugged herself, her heart racing. She shook her head slowly from side to side.
“You must be brave now, child,” the priestess said, walking forward to lead her by the shoulder to the long table. “For you tobe welcome in this temple, it is necessary to remove the impurities of the world from your body. But I will not lie to you. It is going to hurt.”
***
She stayed still the first time they slathered her in the warm honey and patted cloths onto her skin. But after they ripped it off, taking every hair on her arm with it—they had to hold her down.
Hot tears flowed down Neff’s face as they did it again and again, the pain leaving her skin red and raw. She cried out as they ripped the soft fuzz from her belly and the hair between her legs. But it wasn’t until they brought out the copper blades and began cutting off fistfuls of her curly hair that she really began to weep.
For their part, the Wabet said nothing. They did not scold her for her anguish, nor did they offer any comfort. They were like one creature with many arms, each working in union with the others to complete the ritual as quickly and efficiently as possible. Neff didn’t bother begging them to stop. One look at their faces told her it wouldn’t have made a difference. If she was looking for a friend in this place, she doubted she would find one among them.
When they were finished, they sat her up and led her to the pool in the corner. The smell of salt emanating from it stung her eyes, and as soon as she stepped into the water, it lit her already inflamed skin on fire. She shrieked in pain, and tried to scramble back, but the Wabet gently, firmly forced her back in.
“You will be cleansed,” the priestess said. “You will be pure. And the gods will welcome you.”
“Please,” Neff sobbed. She couldn’t help herself now. She felt desperate, like a cornered animal. “Please don’t make me.”
“You will be cleansed,” the priestess said again. “The word isthe deed.”
“The word is the deed,” the other Wabet intoned, and the priestess pushed her head under the water.
***
Neff made no sound while the Wabet rubbed her with rough black pumice stones, ensuring that no trace of hair was left on her body. She stared straight at the wall and a large painting of the great mother, Isis. The goddess knelt on a dais, crowned with the sun disc, and spread her golden wings as if about to take flight.
Neff had never seen such a painting up close, and its brilliance and detail mesmerized her, and helped her ignore her body as it cried out for relief. She licked her lips, tasting salt, and didn’t know whether it was from the pool water or from her tears.
Isis, she thought.Queen of the throne. Goddess of magic.
She Who Knows All the Names.
She gazed longingly at the painting and wished that she too, could spread her wings and fly away. That flicker of hope she’d felt on the boat was threating to go out. Was this new life always going to be full of such pain and suffering?
Finally, the Wabet completed their task and guided Neff out of the water, patted her dry with linen towels, and dressed her in a simple gown exactly like theirs. They applied black kohl and green powder to her eyes, and red ochre to her lips. That done, they checked her head to foot and declared her ready to be welcomed into the temple.
“You will await Master Montuhotep’s return,” the priestess said. “He will show you to our quarters and explain what is expected.”
Neff nodded, numb, and began to follow the priestess to the door, recoiling from the soft pile of her hair on the ground. It reminded her of a dead animal. On the way, she caught a glimpse of herself in the brass mirror hanging on the wall.
She stopped. The person staring back at her was a stranger.
She was completely bald, her skin glistening, her face outlined in color like one of the wall paintings. But it was her eyes that struck her most. They were huge and dark and haunted, no longer her own. They had seen things, wonderful and terrible things. In the matter of a single day, she had lost everything about her life that was familiar, including her own reflection.
From the wall, Isis watched her with eyes not unlike her own.
Who am I, now?she asked the goddess.If you know all the names, can you tell me mine?
It was too much.Too much for a young girl who’d only that morning been at home with her mother and father, waking to another day at the market. It was too much for anyone, really. She took a step back from the mirror, and then another, and then pushed through the gaggle of unwitting priestesses and ran.
***
Neff dashed through the corridor, her breath coming in shuddering gasps. She had no plan and no idea where she was going. She passed other small chambers and ran past several young priests who shouted at her when she nearly upset the armfuls of papyri they were carrying.
She didn’t stop.
She was tired and scared, and wanted nothing more than her mother’s arms and the comfort of home. Bast was a mother herself—wouldn’t she understand?
She turned right, then left, then right again, eventually losing track of where she’d been and uncertain she’d be able to find her way back. The corridor sloped downward, and Neff realized it was leading her into an underground tunnel beneath the temple. She hesitated, her eyes unaccustomed to the sudden murk. Thankfully, there was no one else around.
