It had been a shock to them both when Rae grew not only as tall as her father, but surpassed him by a fingerbreadth or two.
“Don’t be smug, lest you be humbled,” he’d said the first time he’d realized it, wagging a finger at her. “You’re still my little girl, and always will be.”
Watching him sleep, she couldn’t help but notice how small he looked, his thinning, work-hardened body curled under the thin blanket.
I’m sorry, Father, she thought.But you can’t protect me anymore.
When it was time, she left her bed and padded softly to the door, stopping to don a shawl and pluck her father’s knife from his belt. It was a fine bronze blade with a blackwood handle—one of the only relics left of Ankhu’s life as a scribe in King Rahotep’s court. The hilt was engraved with geometric designs and a large wedjat eye, its pupil inset with carnelian.
Some mornings, she’d catch him praying, knife in hand and eyes toward the dawn, the last vestige of his crumbling faith. “Hear me, Ra,” he’d say. “Maker of Hours, Lord of Days—hear me and cast your light upon me. Burn away the fear in my heart, and watch over me so that I may see you again tomorrow.”
Rae whispered her father’s prayer as she pushed the knifeinto her own belt and stepped into the chill night. She rubbed her arms, her teeth chattering, and wrapped the shawl tighter around her shoulders as she walked toward Omari’s house. She dared not bring a torch, so she relied on the moon to light her way. Khetarans generally avoided travel at night, as anything done after sundown was generally viewed with suspicion.
“Only jackals and criminals lurk in the dark,” people said.
I wonder what that makes me?Rae thought as she approached the workshop.
Omari was waiting for her outside, also wrapped in a dark shawl. When she tried to greet him, he pressed a finger to his lips. He pointed toward a path into the mountains and motioned for her to follow. It wasn’t until they’d left the workshop far behind that he finally spoke.
“Are you sure about this? There’s still time for you to turn back.”
Rae adjusted the hood of her shawl. The movement caused the torn flesh on her back to stretch and sting. She winced, but the pain served as a reminder of why she was there in the first place. “‘My eyes have been opened to injustice I can no longer tolerate,’” she said wryly, throwing his own words back in his face. “You want me to close them again?”
Omari’s jaw clenched in exasperation. “Curse you, Ay. I only told you about this because I wanted you to support my fight against the High Khetarans. I never intended for you tojoinme in it. These men… they won’t look kindly on me bringing a woman into their midst. For all I know, they’ll throw you out the moment you arrive.”
Rae put a hand to the hilt of the knife at her side. “Let them try.”
Omari sighed. He didn’t call her “donkey” for nothing. Still, Rae caught him casting worried glances at her when he thoughtshe wasn’t looking.
They walked across the barren terrain, having left all vegetation behind. After a while, Rae crested a low hill and saw a large landform ahead. It looked like a ragged, oddly shapedmountain—except it seemed to have a perfectly rectangular man-size doorway cut into it. She could see moonlight shining through from the other side.
“Is that where we’re headed?” Rae asked.
Omari nodded. “It is the Hesep-Mut—the Garden of the Dead. Thousands of years ago it was a vast necropolis, but now it’s a ruin. No one goes there, and it provides a great deal of cover, so it’s the perfect meeting place.”
“A necropolis, you say,” Rae said, feeling a tingle up her spine.
“Yes, so watch your step.”
As if on cue, Rae’s foot caught on something under the sand that almost sent her sprawling. When she looked back to see what it was, the top half of a human skull peered out at her, the holes of its eyes filled with sand.
“Come on,” Omari urged. “Hurry up or we’ll be late.”
Rae tore her gaze from the skull and rushed to follow. He didn’t have to tell her twice.
As they approached the door, Rae could see that the structure was a monument of incredible size, built with thousands of mud bricks, their edges softened by time. In its heyday, the Hesep-Mut must have been an awesome thing to behold—even now, its sheer size nearly took her breath away.
In fact, she was so distracted by the sight of it that she didn’t notice the man slip out from the shadows toward them.
Rae gasped as a knife pressed against her throat. She went to reach for her own weapon, but the blade pressed harder against her flesh.
“Don’t,” a gruff voice said from behind her.
In the next moment, an archer appeared silhouetted in the doorway, an arrow nocked in his bow and ready to fly.
Omari ripped the hood from his head and raised his arms in surrender. “Please, we come in peace! It’s me, Omari! I attended the last meeting. My friend wishes to join our number.”
The archer called out to them without lowering his arrow. “The falcon sails across the sky.”
