Chapter 14 #2
Neff felt her mind sink into the world of the dream, into the darkness at the center of the light. She saw the desert. The winged sun. The red cobra. She saw the woman caped in vulture feathers.
Except the woman was not Queen Bintanath. She was the goddess Nekhbet, the vulture-headed protector of the kingdom, the crown, and all its children—alive and dead.
The Mother of Mothers.
Neff waited for the blazing sun to burn Nekhbet as it had in the queen’s dream. Instead, the goddess walked to the horizon and wrapped her heavy wings around it. She was so small, and yet Nekhbet was somehow able to enfold the sun in her arms, casting the world into darkness.
Through the darkness came a message, whispered on the wind.
When the vision faded, Queen Bintanath was watching Neff with a mixture of amazement and fear.
“So it is true,” she whispered. “My husband was quick to fall for a young, pretty face, but Mery is different. He was right about you. That was no act. You are touched by the divine.” She leaned forward and seized Neff’s wrist, holding her firmly.
“Tell me, child: What did you see? What message do the gods have for me?”
Neff’s pulse began to race. Say it! she told herself. Come what may, you must tell her!
When she spoke, her voice was steady.
“It is not so much a message as it is a question, my queen. Do you protect the crown or the one who wears it? Beware, for if you fail to do the former, the latter will come to destroy all that the light touches. Sanctify yourself in the truth; wrap your arms around that which burns this kingdom until the fire has gone out. Only then will you find peace.”
The queen blinked, seemingly unable—or unwilling—to comprehend the message. Her lip curled. “Say that again.”
Neff’s body began to shake. She’ll have me killed, my throat cut…
She began again. “D-do you protect the crown or the one who wears it? Beware, for—”
“Again!” the queen raged. She stood and snatched a ceramic cup from the side table, hurling it against the wall. It exploded in a shower of shards and bloodred wine.
Neff didn’t flinch or cower. She spoke slowly and clearly, her hands folded tightly in her lap. “Wrap your arms around that which burns this kingdom until the fire has gone out. Only then will you find peace.”
A palace guard appeared in the doorway. “Queen Bintanath, is everything all right?”
The queen kept her eyes on Neff. “Leave us!”
The guard hesitated before bowing his head and making his exit.
The queen’s face twisted into a mask of fury.
“How dare you make these insinuations!” she snarled, gripping Neff’s wrist so tightly that it hurt.
“How dare you suggest I am living a lie, that I don’t have the kingdom’s best interests at heart!
I don’t need some skinny, impudent little whelp like you to tell me how to… how to…”
Neff didn’t move. She felt sick and dizzy with fright, and the pain in her wrist brought tears to her eyes, but she didn’t make a sound. A single tear broke free and rolled down her face.
Queen Bintanath saw it, and her fury drained away. She released her grip on Neff’s wrist and took a step back. Already, a purple bruise blossomed there.
The queen sank onto the bench.
Neff cradled her wrist in her hand and took a shuddering breath. “I-I only did what was asked of me, my queen. To deliver the message I was given.”
Queen Bintanath dropped her gaze to the three small necklaces still clutched in her hand. One for Kenna, one for Sita, and one for Mery.
After a moment she spoke, her voice soft and strange. “You think you’re ready to be a mother. You think that when the children come, the wisdom of the world will wash over you, and you will know what to do. You’ll know what is right. But you don’t. You don’t.”
The queen fell silent after that. Neff remained in her seat, tense, counting the droplets of wine splashed across the floor in front of her. After what felt like a long while, she decided it was safe to rise. She bowed to the queen and dismissed herself from the room.
You did what you set out to do, she told herself as she hurried to her own chambers. You told her the truth. It was a relief, after so many lies. Though she feared what calamity that truth might bring.
***
The cat greeted Neff at the door, yowling and winding around her ankles. She leaped onto the table as Neff collapsed onto a stool and poured herself a cup of water with shaking hands.
“Hello, Cat,” Neff said after gulping down her third cup. “How is your day? Better than mine, I hope.”
The cat purred and swept her tail across the black leather cylinder marked with the sign of Sekhmet.
Reaching for it, Neff carefully removed the scrolls from the container, unrolled them, and weighed down the corners with small stones.
Kenna’s letter to her, written on a scrap of papyrus, lay on top.
Nefermaat, the note read, I cautioned you about using powerful magic when we last met, but perhaps I was wrong.
Perhaps the time for caution has passed.
When you told me about this Oracle of the Lamb, I confess I found it difficult to believe.
I am a priest, but I am also a man of logic and reason, and the oracle defies both.
How can the future be both predetermined and dependent upon our actions?
After much thought, however, I have concluded that the world is so complex, it encompasses all possibilities, including one in which you are at the center of a cataclysm.
You have endured great hardship in a short time, made greater by the fact that you are only a child, and yet these trials have strengthened you.
I have taught you many things, little sister, but I think you have taught me more. You may not be of royal blood, but like the children of pharaohs, your power is innate. You need only use your education—and your faith—to meet this challenge. The rest is up to Heka.
Enclosed here is the set of scrolls that I discovered in the secret wall that day in the House of Life. I trust you will use them wisely when the time comes.
With Amun’s blessing,
“Your brother and loyal friend,
Kenna.
Neff set the letter on the table, pride and longing like a double-edged blade in her heart.
As if sensing her anguish, the cat bumped her head against Neff’s hand. “I’m all right, Cat,” she said, sniffing. “Now, what’s this?”
She examined the top scroll. Unlike Kenna’s letter, it was written in the gods’ words, so it took her longer to decipher.
“The Book of the Red Lady,” she murmured. “The Red Lady,” she knew, was one of the goddess Sekhmet’s various titles.
“These look like spell scrolls,” she went on, both for her own benefit and the cat’s. Sekhmet was not often invoked in the magic used by priests of Amun. Wondering what kinds of spells they might be, Neff began translating the headings of each one:
To Enthrall a Man.
To Make a Man Blind to His Brothers.
To Loosen a Bowstring.
To Have Power over the Winds.
Neff felt the blood drain from her face. Aside from the life-giving spell she’d been working on with the twig, and the spell to summon Medjed, these were by far the most powerful spells she’d ever seen. What’s more, they were malicious.
Dark magic.
No wonder they were hidden inside that wall. In the wrong hands, spells like these could be incredibly destructive. In the right ones, though…
She studied the lists of ingredients marked in red ink and blew out her cheeks. Some of the items would be hard to get her hands on. But not impossible. Still, even if she got what she needed, there was no guarantee she’d be able to cast the spells correctly.
Kenna wouldn’t have given this to you if he didn’t believe, a voice within her urged. The potential for failure is high, but the consequences of not trying at all are much worse.
Neff heard a hiss. The cat stood with her back arched and hackles raised. As she had so many times before, the cat was staring into the middle of the room, focused on something that wasn’t there.
Or was it?
Neff recalled telling Ahura how cats are capable of seeing “the unseen,” and how it reminded her of the Medjed spell. The spell had called him a guardian with “eyes that see yet are unseen.” When nothing happened after she cast the spell, she’d assumed it hadn’t worked.
But what if it had? What if Medjed had been with her ever since, and she just didn’t know it?
She stood, trying to pinpoint exactly where the cat was staring. “Erm…hello?” she said, tentatively.
Nothing happened.
She went to the window and gathered a handful of sand that had blown in overnight and hadn’t yet been swept out by the servants. Then she threw it up in the air.
The sand drifted to the floor in a cloud, but Neff could have sworn she saw some of the grains create the outline of a form about half her size. When the sand had settled back to the ground, she also noticed that it neglected to fill two small areas with very recognizable shapes.
Feet.
Neff went rigid with shock. By Amun, something really is there! She grabbed a length of white linen she’d used to dry herself after her bath that morning. Biting her lip, she flung it over the same spot.
The cloth floated down onto the invisible object, giving form where none had been, making it look as if a small child hid under the white cloth.
Neff’s fear intensified. She dashed behind the table and hid.
What will it do now that I’ve discovered it?
The cat didn’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation. She padded over to Neff, rubbed her chin against the table leg, and meowed, as if to say, See? I told you so.
Trembling, Neff peered over the tabletop.
The diminutive figure, seemingly having registered the cloth, turned left, then right. It didn’t appear to be angry or frightened, simply confused.
Gathering her courage, Neff popped up her head. “Hey! Medjed!”
The figure stopped. Was it looking at her? She couldn’t tell.
“Are you…are you going to hurt me?”
Medjed shook its head.
“Are you meant to be my guardian?”
Medjed nodded.
So it was Medjed who must have been in the Horus Room with us, and who alerted me about the guard in the corridor! Neff thought. It’s been following me all along!
Relieved, Neff stood and slowly approached the little figure. “So, the spell actually worked! Does that mean I’ll be safe from harm when you’re around?”
Reluctantly, Medjed shook its head.
Neff crossed her arms. “What kind of guardian are you if you let bad things happen to me?”
Medjed shrank.
“No, no, I’m not upset,” she said, eager not to hurt its feelings.
“I’m only trying to understand. I suppose my parents were my guardians, and they couldn’t always stop bad things from happening to me either.
” She thought of that last morning in Bubas, of her mother’s stricken face when Neff boarded the ship bound for Thonis. “Will you at least try to protect me?”
Medjed nodded.
“That’s good enough, then.”
The little guardian returned to its former height and moved closer. The cat, no longer perturbed by Medjed’s presence, batted at the floating cloth in high amusement.
Neff regarded the cloth critically. “If you wear this shroud when you’re out, people will definitely ask questions.
But when we’re alone, it makes it easier to talk to you.
You just need one more thing…” Turning back to her table, she picked up a black ink palette and a reed brush. “Now, don’t move,” she instructed.
Medjed was still.
Leaning forward and with the tip of her tongue sticking out between her lips, Neff carefully painted two simple eyes and eyebrows onto the cloth. When she was done, she stepped back to check her work.
“There!” she said, setting down the brush. “Now I can see which way you’re facing. It will be much easier to talk to you properly. See? ”
She pointed at the brass mirror on the wall. Medjed turned toward it—and jumped.
Neff giggled. “Good, isn’t it?”
Medjed cocked its head to the side, uncertain.
“Well, I like it, anyway.” Neff smiled at the creature, amazed that she had summoned it into existence all by herself. Maybe Kenna’s right. If I can call Medjed, I really can cast spells! Even powerful ones! My studies must be paying off.
She turned back to the magic scrolls and thought of Meryamun’s plans for conquest and domination.
So many had already died by his hand, and more would surely follow.
The lamb in her vision warned her about the blood to be spilled, about the sorrow and ruin that would come to the children of Khetara.
Neff thought of her parents and her friends in Bubas.
She thought of Kenna.
The time for caution has passed.
Resuming her seat at the table, Neff spread a fresh sheet of papyrus in front of her and turned to the Book of the Red Lady.
“Medjed,” she said, “Please go outside and keep a lookout. Warn me if anyone is coming, all right?”
Medjed nodded, then slipped out from beneath the cloth, leaving it to fall to the floor in a heap. Seizing her opportunity, the cat walked over to the fabric, turned in a circle, and lay down on it to sleep.
Satisfied, Neff returned to her work. To Enthrall a Man, she read, making a note on her papyrus.
Take a lock of hair from the man you wish to enthrall and soak it in blood from your own hand for one night.
Fasten the hair to a waxen figure inscribed with the man’s name and burn it in sacred fire while speaking these words…