Chapter 2 The Sixth Chime #2
The knot holding the bag together loosened, and out tumbled a sandglass.
Within its two glass spheres was golden sand.
Thick, metal pillars held the sides and top of the glasses together, and purple light swirled within.
The golden sand did not move with the pull of gravity.
Instead, the sand poured steadily down into the lower portion of the sandglass.
A low hum emanated from it, sending thick vibrations through her body.
The sandglass brushed her foot before she could step back, and Zahra gasped as images and sensations flooded her senses. Blood filled her mouth, and the screams of thousands surrounded her.
Zahra stumbled and fell back as the visions ceased, gulping in air as Omar grabbed the sandglass and tossed it into one of the stalls. He raced to her side. “Are you hurt?”
Zahra grabbed his arm. “What is that?!”
Omar mumbled under his breath, pulling away from Zahra’s grasp. He took the bag and stuffed the sandglass in it once more.
Zahra stared at him in shock. She was sweating and breathing as if she had been running. Yet, there he stood, perfectly fine. Why had the sandglass affected her but not him?
Omar approached a stall housing a white horse. “You must leave Aur. Take a boat to Rhakotis. From there, you can cross the border into the desert. If you are lucky, you may run into some of our people in Deshret that would be willing to take you in.”
The Naqada? Zahra shook her head, pushing herself to her feet. Her legs wobbled beneath her, and her arms trembled at her side. “Patér, this is madness! I will not survive out there. This is our home.”
He secured the bag to the white horse before glancing back at her. “You must.”
The sound of hooves hitting the ground came from up the hill. Omar cursed under his breath. “They’re here.”
Zahra tried to grab his arm. “Patér.”
Omar shook her off and pulled himself onto the horse. “Go to Rhakotis. I will distract them.”
“Patér,” Zahra begged. “Please, don’t leave.”
The medjay dismounted outside. “Who is in there? Come out!”
“May Re protect you.” He pointed the horse toward the stable house doors. Zahra, realizing his plan, ducked into an empty stall.
“We are coming in,” a medjay yelled.
Omar urged the horse forward, and the doors splintered from the impact. The medjay leaped to the side, and Zahra pulled her body behind the wooden wall, covering her head as pieces of wood flew in her direction.
The sound of Omar’s horse faded as he headed downhill to the south. The voices of the medjay sounded as they got to their horses. “Follow him!”
Zahra covered her mouth, muffling a sob as the realization of what had happened hit her. Her father was a criminal. The medjay would find him—kill him. She would never see her Patér again.
The realization hit her hard, and bile burned her throat as she thought of her next steps.
Her father had told her to flee Aur. Where would she go?
She had no connections outside of the kingdom, and nothing to barter with.
Her earring—the sign of her debt—was proof that she belonged in Aur.
Even if the Naqada found her, they wouldn’t let her stay.
Even though they were once the same people, to them, she was an Auran.
She was an enemy. No one would be willing to risk their lives for her.
“Selene.” Zahra’s lip trembled, and deep sobs threatened to leave her body as she called out to her goddess. “What do I do?”
The obelisk chimed five times when Zahra finally gathered the courage to leave the stable house. The moon had grown dimmer, and Zahra stumbled through the darkness as she made her up the hill toward the lights. The festivities were still ongoing at the top of the hill.
The air grew thick and moist, strangling her under the pretense of praises to Re and support of the King. Zahra held her necklace tight as she fought for breath, pushing through the crowds.
Finally, she found a less busy path down to the river. The air cooled, and she sucked in a calming breath as she walked toward the hundreds of boats left docked. While there were many boats that were being watched by medjay, there were some—smaller, one-manned ones—that were left unattended.
Zahra stepped into the moist sand next to a boat, pulling at a knot tied to a nearby pole. There was a thundering of footsteps as a group of people ran down the path, but Zahra did not pay it any mind. The Aurans were celebrating. They wouldn’t notice her untying the rope to a less-than-grand boat.
A bold voice came from nearby, causing Zahra to freeze. “We are looking for an Ionian woman. She is an indentured servant and the daughter of a thief named Omar.”
Zahra swallowed and quickened her pace. Kamil must have told them she had come by. Did they think she was working with her father? Sweat trickled down her back as she fought to control the trembling in her hands. It was dark. They couldn’t see her. They wouldn’t see her.
She dug her nails into the knot, but her slippery fingers struggled to grip the rope. She had finally pulled some of it loose when a voice came from close behind her.
“You there. Is that your boat?”
Zahra sprinted away from the river, cursing the knot for being so well tied. The medjay shouted to each other, fumbling through the wet sand as they chased after her.
Zahra shoved people aside as she worked her way through the crowds. She wasn’t sure where she was going. There was nowhere to go, but her feet wouldn’t stop moving. If she stopped, she would be imprisoned. She would be killed.
The pr-aa’s outdoor room was alive with music, dancing, and maidens attending the Feast. The moon sat above it in the sky, its surface red.
A creature flew in front of the moon, and Zahra gasped in astonishment.
Her sandal caught on a dead root and flew off her foot, sending her sprawling forward.
Pain vibrated up her arms and chin as her face collided with the hard ground.
The familiar cry of an eagle rang through the air. The tawny creature flew over her head, its eyes shimmering in the moonlight. Its talons scooped up her sandal and flew off.
“Wait,” Zahra called, getting to her knees. Blood sprouted from a cut on her bottom lip, and painful bruises were forming on her face and arms.
“You there! Stop!” The medjay pushed past the crowd of maidens leaving the Feast.
Zahra pushed herself to her feet and followed the eagle.
The bird flew quickly, weaving in the air and leading her to the back of the pr-aa.
A large and luscious garden came into view.
Golden tiles littered the ground and white pieces of stone protected beds of beautiful flowers.
In the middle of it all was a thick hedge of bushes that stood taller than a horse.
The eagle flew right over the hedge. Zahra followed the perimeter of the hedge, realizing that the hedge was more than a wall: it was rectangular in shape, having no beginning and no end and no way to see what was inside.
The shouts of the medjay drew closer. Zahra stuck her hands through the thick brush, trying to push the leaves aside.
Thorns picked at her skin, and thick branches blocked her from going through.
Zahra tried different sides of the hedge until, finally, she found a small gap in the thorns toward the base of the hedge.
The hole was barely perceptible, its front covered by overgrown vines and flowers. Zahra pushed them aside and crawled through on her knees. She staggered out on the other side, her clothes ripped and her skin scraped and bloody.
Zahra gasped at the view. Within the hedge sat a hidden garden.
The most beautiful flowers surrounded a walkway that continued out of sight.
A small stream flowed in a circle, with a small, wooden bridge offering a path to the center.
Wooden walls covered in vines sat off to the side, blocking some of her view.
The eagle circled above her. The medjay ran past, unaware of the hidden garden or who hid inside. “Where is she? Find her!”
Zahra let out a breath of relief, smiling up at the eagle. She wished to thank it, but she did not want the medjay to hear.
Suddenly, the eagle flew downward, landing somewhere past the wooden walls. Zahra ventured forward with one hand holding her necklace. She walked over the bridge, tracing the lines on the wooden walls as she passed them.
“Ow!”
Zahra froze, staring at a form that sat in the moonlight on a stone bench. He rubbed his head, gawking at the eagle circling above. Zahra’s sandal sat at his feet, the obvious culprit to his woes.
The eagle soared toward Zahra, and she stumbled backward as the man turned toward her, jumping to his feet. Golden jewelry hung from his neck and arms, a golden crown sat on his head, and his tight curls hid his eyes. “Who are you? How have you found this place?”
Zahra shook her head. “It was an accident. Please—”
The man ran forward. Zahra stumbled backward, desperate to escape, but she was not fast enough. He grabbed her wrists, splashing water out of the stream as he forced her against the bushes.
“I demand an answer. Who are—” His voice caught in his throat as his eyes went wide.
His expression caught Zahra off guard. His eyes were dark as night, and the illusion of stars sat within them as he studied her face.
“It is you again,” he whispered, his breath warm against her forehead.
She sucked in a breath. He was right, for as much as he recognized her, she knew him. From her dream—or another life—she recalled his thick lips and star-filled eyes.
The man released her left hand and wiped the blood that sprouted from her bottom lip.
With gentle movements, he pushed Zahra’s hair out of her face.
He was closer now, leaning against her legs so as to secure her further, but he was not hurting her.
His eyes drifted from her hair to her face, and his lips parted. “Who are you?”
The shouts of the medjay sounded from nearby, and the man’s forehead creased.
Zahra broke out of her stupor, and she put her hands on his arms and brought her knee up as high and hard as she could.
The man cried out, releasing her and crumpling to the ground as he held his groin.
Zahra ran for the exit, leaving her sandal behind.
“Guards,” he groaned, trying to stand. “Stop her!”
Zahra bolted out of the bushes, and the medjay shouted and pointed at her. “There!”
Zahra ran toward the river in the distance.
The medjay ran after her. “Stop, sobki!”
A group of partygoers gasped as a medjay seized her arm. Zahra spun around, shoving her elbow hard into the medjay’s chest. He grunted, releasing his hold on her.
The commander from earlier pushed the medjay aside. Zahra peered over her shoulder as he raised his khopesh. She turned her body, trying to move to the side. A scream tore out of her chest.
The man from the hidden garden stumbled into the moonlight, raising his hand. “No!”
The commander brought his blade down on Zahra, slicing her from her shoulder to her abdomen.
Pain flooded her senses, and she fell to the sand with a cry.
She hugged her torso, and the oozing blood leaked onto her hands.
She could barely breathe, and darkness ate away at the edges of her vision.
The moon was above her, its red color smearing and dripping as tears rolled down her face.
“You fool!” A pair of hands lifted her face from the sand. It was the man from the hidden garden. His face was filled with helpless horror. “Get a physician,” he ordered the medjay around him. “Now!”
Zahra wheezed, gasping for air as she grabbed his arm with her bloody hand. There was no use. She would die, as her dream had warned her.
A sob escaped Zahra’s throat, and the man brushed her curls from her sweat-covered face. A powerful certainty overcame his features. “You will live. You will wake, and all will be well.”
Zahra shook her head as the obelisk chimed. The sound vibrated the earth beneath Zahra. One. Two.
“The day of the Pa-sekhemty Feast will come again,” he insisted.
Zahra’s heaving chest slowed, her vision blurring. Three. Four.
The man’s voice surrounded her as she focused on the moon. “And you will wake.”
The obelisk chimed a sixth time, and the world was consumed by light. With each moment, the pain lessened until she could see once more. The pr-aa was gone, and above her was the ceiling of her room.
With a sudden burst of energy, Zahra turned her body and fell out of the hammock with a cry. The contact with the cold floor sent an ache vibrating through her limbs.
Zahra stumbled to her feet, breathing hard as she grabbed her shoulder and arms. Her night clothes were soaked with sweat, but there was no trace of a wound.
Zahra gasped in disbelief. She shook Jala’s hammock above hers. “Jala. Jala, what day is it?”
“Zahra?” Jala shoved Zahra’s arm away from her. “Why are you awake? The sun has only just risen.”
“What day is it?” Zahra asked. “Has the Pa-sekhemty Feast happened yet?” Had her father stolen from the Pharaoh Queen?
Jala smiled sleepily. “The Feast is tonight, Zahra. Don’t worry. The young ladies have not gone without you.” She yawned and turned over in her hammock. “It was only a dream. Now, let me rest a moment longer.”
Zahra stepped back, glancing around the room. The rest of her roommates were still asleep. She opened her chest. Eshe’s dress was still hiding within. She had not yet delivered it.
Zahra shut the chest, breathless. “It was not a dream.”
The day was happening again.