Chapter 10 #2
Rae had a strange sensation of arriving at a place she’d been before, whether in dreams or in a story the gods had been whispering in her ear from the moment she was born.
The river will get its way, in the end.
“I thought you’d had a vision,” Rae said, shaken.
“I did—but I was only guessing that it was about you. The messages of the gods are not always easy to interpret. Do you think I guessed right, Ahura?”
“I…I…” Rae stammered.
Crash!
Both Rae and Neff looked to the window ledge. The striped cat had knocked over a wooden cup full of reed pens, scattering them to the floor. The cat didn’t seem interested in the pens, though. She was focused on something in front of her. She pawed and hissed.
Except nothing was there.
“What’s wrong with your cat?” Rae asked, grateful for the interruption. She shivered and glanced about the room, suddenly overtaken by the sense that they were being watched.
“Oh, nothing,” Neff replied, rising to collect the pens.
“Cats are Bast’s creatures, and they share of some of the goddess’s powers.
They protect us, bring us good luck and pleasure, and have the power to…
” The girl’s expression turned distant, like she’d remembered something very important. “To see things we can’t,” she finished.
“What kind of things?” Rae asked.
Neff peered at Rae as if she’d only just remembered she was there. “I’m sorry. It’s gotten late. I must finish getting dressed and attend to my duties. You can remove the tray.”
There was a formality to the girl’s voice that hadn’t been there before, reminding them both that they were not friends, but servant and master.
“Of course, Priestess,” Rae said, quickly getting to her feet.
Neff’s forehead crinkled.
“Of course, Neff,” Rae corrected herself, hoisting the significantly lighter tray off the table. “Is there anything else?”
The young seer paused. “There is, actually. But first I must ask… Can I trust you, Ahura?”
A prickle of unease ran down the back of Rae’s neck. Why was Neff asking her that question?
Perhaps I’m not alone in my lies, Rae thought. Nefermaat, she was certain, was keeping secrets too. But did the girl suspect Rae’s true intent? If she did, it didn’t show. Still, Neff was a royal priestess—a seer. Surely she knew danger when it was right in front of her, sharing her meal!
Her game doesn’t matter, so long as it doesn’t interfere with mine, Rae told herself. Just play along.
“You can trust me,” Rae answered.
Neff nodded. “Good. I need you to take a message to Prince Bakenamun at the Temple of Amun. You are not to hand it to anyone but him.” She bent to retrieve a small scroll sealed with wax and held it out to Rae.
“I was told to take care of your laundry after delivering the morning meal,” Rae said, hesitant.
“The laundry can wait until your return. No one will trouble you about my dirty clothes.”
Balancing the tray on one hand, Rae took the scroll and bowed her head. “It will be done,” she said.
With several more awkward bows, Rae exited the chamber.
She took a moment to scan the corridors for guards and—finding none—hurried back to the kitchens to drop off the breakfast tray.
She could have sworn that she’d felt a presence in that room, someone watching them while Neff assailed her with questions.
Maybe the cat was onto something, after all.
Hurrying as quickly as she could in her tight dress, Rae nearly walked right past Tamerit as the weaver was leaving the kitchens carrying two jars of wine.
She’d seen her that morning in the maidservants’ quarters where they both slept, but because other people were always around, they hadn’t had the opportunity to exchange information since the day before.
“It’s so good to see you, Tam—I mean, ah…”
“Herit,” Tam prompted.
“Right.” Rae was having the worst time remembering to use the aliases.
Tam rolled her eyes. “Any news?” she whispered.
“Yes! I found out where they’re keeping the prisoners!” Rae said proudly.
“Oh! Good!”
Rae’s shoulders slumped. “You knew already, didn’t you?”
“I found out yesterday. It’s helpful information, though. Really it is!”
“Don’t patronize me.”
“I’m not!”
Rae raised an eyebrow.
Tam shifted the conversation. “Don’t you want to hear what I’ve learned?”
Rae wanted to be annoyed but couldn’t manage it. She’d never seen Tamerit so excited, so alive. Apparently, the subterfuge that made Rae’s skin itch made Tam feel right at home. Rae wanted to kiss her. “Tell me.”
Tam’s eyes darted back and forth, ensuring no one was within earshot.
Then she proceeded to share all she’d heard from the other servants—about Amunmose’s personal guard and servants’ death at the hand of the new king, the princess’s flight, Queen Bintanath’s strange behavior in the aftermath of the coronation, and the many theories as to why the Iteru had temporarily turned the color of blood.
It spilled out of the weaver in a great torrent, and Rae struggled to absorb everything she was told.
“All this you learned since yesterday?” Rae asked.
Tam nodded. “Nebet is especially happy to speak with me. She’s been quite lonely since Sitamun left.”
“Do you know all their names?”
Tam looked offended. “Of course I do!”
By the gods, Rae thought miserably, I am terrible at this.
“And,” Tam added, almost as an afterthought, “I’ve received an invitation. Well, more of a summons, I suppose.”
Rae felt a twinge of apprehension. “An invitation to…?”
“To a party of some kind.” Tam bit her lip and looked away. “In the pharaoh’s chambers.”
A rush of heat flooded Rae’s face. “What?” she exclaimed, too loudly.
“Shh!”
Other servants passed by carrying bowls of fruit and gave them a curious look. Tam smiled and nodded hello. The two women greeted her—by name—and continued on.
“Keep your head, will you?” she whisper-shouted at Rae. “This is exactly why we came here! Who knows what kind of secret information I might glean from being close to the king?”
“Too close, in my opinion…” Rae muttered.
“I can handle myself. Or don’t you trust me?”
Rae closed her eyes, willing the fury building inside her to recede. She took several deep, cleansing breaths, then replied, “I trust you.”
What she didn’t say was: It’s the king I don’t trust. It’s everyone in this accursed palace I don’t trust.
“Good,” Tam said. “I’ll go to the party tonight, and you find that chamber where they’re holding the prisoners. We’ll figure out what to do next in the morning.”
Before the weaver could resume her duties, Rae reached out with her free hand and grabbed Tam’s wrist. “Please be careful.”
Tam—or, rather, “Herit”—gave her a single crisp nod and departed.
A party, Rae thought as she stepped back into the hot, steamy kitchens.
Without thinking, her hand curled into a fist.