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It’s quickly becoming darker by the second. “Where are you taking me?” I ask Bastet, who peers over her shoulder and hisses at me. “Wow, okay, sorry. But there’s no place safe here to sleep, and it will be dark soon.”
I swear she rolls her eyes at me.
Shutting my mouth, I obediently follow, and just as the sun dips below the horizon, we come to a swamp. Trees shoot into the sky, towering above us, pale-green moss swinging from their branches. The thick air, almost palpable in its humidity, tastes oily and fishy on my tongue.
Bastet leaps onto my shoulders, digging her claws into me for purchase. Hissing under my breath, I swallow down my trepidation and wade through the waist-high water inundated with fallen leaves and branches. Fireflies blink in and out of existence, hovering amongst the branches and over the water. It’s oddly beautiful in a Gothic sort of way.
After several minutes, we come to a tiny derelict cabin built on stilts. A rocking chair creaks as it moves back and forth by an invisible presence. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and I nervously gulp back a cry of fear. Bastet nudges my cheek reassuringly with her nose, but it doesn’t stop my blood from running cold when a finger of air slides down my cheek in a caress. The urge to look behind me is strong, but I grit my teeth and carry on, refusing to give in to the temptation. I have a feeling I wouldn’t like what I saw.
Chapter 31
Snow White
Thetreeseventuallythin,opening into a river that must be at least a mile wide. Sharp cliffs tower above me, the tops lost in shadows. They preside over a sliver of rocky beach, barely wide enough to stand on. Bastet jumps off my shoulders and lands nimbly on the beach. I’m not so graceful, having to pull myself onto it. It doesn’t gradually slope off into the river; like the cliffs above it, it ends sharply, plunging the unwary into watery depths.
I carefully lower myself onto the sharp rocks, hissing when one cuts into my backside. My sodden, heavy clothes stick to my skin, and a shiver runs over me. The humidity of the swamp has gone, replaced by an icy wind that howls over the cliffs and tugs on my clothes. Wrapping my arms around myself, I glance around me, taking in the little scenery I can make out.
There isn’t much to see. The river, the beach, the cliffs . . . there is nothing else. Except for the sky. I stare at it in wonder, having never seen anything of the like. Three moons hang in the velvety darkness, one so close, I feel as if I could touch it if I tried hard enough.
Bastet shifts beside me, her neck craning as she stares over the river. I see nothing, but my ears pick up the sound of movement in the water. Moments later, a boat comes into view, and I’m oddly both at peace and terrified by the sight of the ferryman standing at the stern of a papyrus boat. Black robes adorn his tall, thin frame, and a deep cowl covers his face. His bony fingers grip the long wooden pole he uses to steer the twenty-foot-long boat through the murky water.
The bow and stern rise sharply from the edges, colorful ropes tied in circles around the ends. The vessel’s name, Meseket, has been stitched into its side with thick red thread, and in the center sits a canopy resting on a raised dais. The ferryman smoothly turns the boat to the side, resting it against the bank. A plank materializes out of thin air, setting down on the rocky beach. Bastet arches her back, stretching her legs, then climbs aboard, settling herself on the top of the pillared bow, then meows at me plaintively.
Swallowing down my unease, I pull myself to my feet, cutting off the groan at my aching muscles. I gingerly climb aboard, settling into the seat placed below the canopy. The ferryman steps in close, pointing to my neck, then holds his hand out, palm up. Unclasping my necklace, I pull off the chain and find a disk with a picture of the ferryman. He clasps it tightly in his hand and lowers his head in thanks before returning to the stern. His pole slides into the dark water, pushing us away from the shore.
As we glide out into the river, the current catches us in its grasp. The rocking of the boat soothes my exhausted mind, and I find myself fighting to remain awake. My eyelids become too heavy and I succumb to the Sandman’s magic, my last thought is wondering why I feel no hunger or thirst, but still need to sleep.
The boat rocking heavily wakes me some time later, and I sit up with a gasp. The midnight sky is now a blood-red color, a giant sun burning so hot I can barely catch my breath. I glance around, spotting Bastet waiting on the wooden dock, her tail swinging back and forth in annoyance. Gulping, I bolt upright and flip toward the ferryman.
“Thank you.”
He raises his head, his face still covered in the shadows of the cowl. “Aken, Your Highness,” he says, his voice a deep rasp.
I dip my chin and murmur his name, then carefully make my way to the bow. My legs wobble beneath me, and it takes a moment or two to scramble out of the boat. Bastet gives me a feline grin, I’m sure she’s laughing at me.
I trail behind her, moving my gaze in a curious arc and taking in the fertile earth. Thick green grass lines the edge of the river. Palm trees sway against the maroon sky, while sand-colored hills rise in the distance. A path made of solid gold stretches out for miles before me, leading to giant obelisks jutting from the earth.
An impending sense of finality runs over me. It’s as if my soul knows what is about to happen, as if my entire life has been leading up to this moment. It is familiar in a way I am not consciously aware of, speaking to me in a language I feel I should know, but do not.
As we draw closer, the landscape becomes more defined, as if designed not by nature, but by man. Date palm trees, soaring over sixty feet tall, now line the lane leading me toward the obelisks.
Princess,Cassian’s voice murmurs on the breeze rustling the branches above. My hand rests over my heart, a wrenching pain drawing me toward my love. But now is not the time for reminiscing, so I take the comfort of his voice but push down the feelings and carry on, sweat dripping down my back as the sun attempts to roast me alive.
Take off some clothes,my mind encourages, but even though I’d love nothing more than to do so, I hesitate. They are all I have left of my life before . . . well, before here. They are an armor of sorts, something left to cling to.
We hike for maybe an hour or so before we finally reach an entrance blocked by two silver gates, easily thirty feet tall. Two limestone statues, one of Anubis and one of Osiris, rise on either side.Oh, gods.There is no more pretending. No more trying to deny where I am.I’m not ready. It’s too soon.Tears mist my eyes, but I blink them away. After taking a moment to compose myself, I bow deeply before each statue. Inhaling a shaky breath, I rise, then remove two more disks from my necklace. I place the one bearing the engraving of a jackal on Anubis’s knee, then turn to Osiris and set down the disk with the Eye of Horus. The gates part silently, as if moved by invisible servants, then clang shut behind us with a finality that leaves me breathless.
The walkway continues forward, now lined with obelisks covered in hieroglyphs that call to me, inviting me to stop and read them. Promising me knowledge and power should I just take a moment to study them. My steps slow as my gaze captures on a carving that looks suspiciously like Cassian. I move closer, reaching toward it, my every thought consumed by the need to touch it.
Bastet’s sharp canines puncturing the skin of my hand forces me out of the spell, and I stumble back.That way lies madness,an unfamiliar voice speaks in my mind. Gulping, I lower my head and follow the cat onward, refusing to look at anything besides the ground and my feet.
The path opens out into a courtyard lined with date palms and dwarf palmettos. I sweep my eyes to both sides, sighing in relief to see no further obelisks. I finally raise my head and gape at the blood-red sky that perfectly showcases the massive pyramid before me. It rests on an extensive platform, with a column in each corner topped with statues of various gods.
A beautiful fountain topped with an ankh sits in the center, its crystal-clear waters tinkling as they fall from the seven layers. Several peacocks, their bright tails fanned open, wander freely in search of food.
Bastet patiently waits for me at the bottom of the platform. Hundreds of stairs soar before me, and my eyes widen in consternation. I take a second to thank the Valkyries for whipping me into shape. The cat spins around and races up the steps, and blowing out a breath, I follow.
My limbs become heavier with every step I take, my calf muscles begging for relief. Sweat coats my body in a fine sheen, dripping annoyingly between my breasts. I keep my eyes trained at the top, willing myself to continue.Almost there.
