Chapter 29
Neff
An instant.
That’s how long it took for Neff’s carefully laid plans to disintegrate. The instant she saw Kenna’s face, she knew it had all gone completely, terribly wrong.
Meryamun silenced the bewildered chatter of the crowd.
“Yes!” he cried. “It was a shock to find that my own brother, a Man of Anubis, was plotting to remove me from the throne.”
“Mery,” Kenna said weakly. “For the love of Amun, don’t do this. Blood magic—it’s strong, but it is wicked, Mery. It will bring damnation upon us!”
Meryamun seized Kenna by the hair, clenching his fist until pain stole the rest of Kenna’s pleas. The king continued to address the crowd. “Not only that—he did not do it alone.” The king turned toward the platform and gave Sitamun a nod.
Before Neff could grasp what was going on, the princess fell upon her, driving her to the ground and kneeling on her back.
“What are you doing?” Neff cried, struggling in vain while Sitamun bound her wrists.
Had she so wildly misjudged the princess?
Had she always been on Meryamun’s side? Was her disappearance and the story about Karim and the resurrected pharaoh all part of an elaborate ruse?
It can’t be! The oracle told me to trust her!
Neff felt hot tears spring to her eyes as she sent a message to the heavens. I did everything you asked. Why have you abandoned me?
With her cheek pressed to the wooden platform, Neff stared at Meryamun, whose face was now level with hers. She knew there was no point in trying to deny her duplicity.
“How did you know?” she asked dully.
Meryamun cocked his head to the side to look at her straight on.
“When my men searched your quarters, they found the Book of the Red Lady stashed with the rest of the heka scrolls. The priests denied ever giving it to you—in fact, they denied knowledge of its very existence. Which told me it found its way there through different means.” He clucked his tongue.
“So, Montuhotep was telling the truth. Ah, well, it’s not such a loss.
Even if I hadn’t killed him then, I’m sure I would have done so eventually. He was a terrible pest.”
Neff said, “I don’t understand. If you’ve known the truth since I returned, why wait until now to reveal it?”
Meryamun moved in close, so close that she could feel the heat radiating off him. “Because I wanted to see it.”
“See what?”
“That expression on your face. The one you’re wearing right now. And I wanted you to watch. You’ve given me a perfect excuse to crush my brother’s skull, just as I’ve always wanted to.”
Neff wanted to beg the king for mercy, to offer anything and everything to spare Kenna’s life, but she knew that was useless.
In the end, despite all her attempts to hide her true intentions, Meryamun saw her.
He saw everything. Like the eye of the sun, his unforgiving light illuminated all her lies.
“You did well, sweet sister,” the king said to Sitamun when she pulled Neff back to her feet. “Now leave her with the guard and come take your place by my side, where you belong.”
Sitamun dipped her head and relinquished her grip on Neff’s arm.
“Help us, please,” Neff whispered to her, hoping the princess might change her mind, that perhaps she was acting out of fear. Had the king hurt her? Threatened her?
Sitamun didn’t respond. She simply gave Neff a blank look and turned away, leaving her in the hands of a palace guard.
Yet, in her eyes, Neff noticed something strange.
Sitamun’s pupils were huge and black, as if the princess were staring into a dark void, not the glare of the noonday sun.
There was a fizz of energy around her too, the same kind of energy Neff felt after casting a spell.
That’s it! she realized. She’s been enchanted!
Suddenly, a particular spell from the Book of the Red Lady came to mind.
To Enthrall a Man: 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 the words below…
Meryamun had used the spell.
He said his men found the book when they searched my room. They must have taken my copy and left the original so I wouldn’t notice it was missing. He probably shared it with the Heka priests and had them curse Sitamun when she met with the king last night.
It was a relief that Sitamun hadn’t betrayed them, but that didn’t improve their situation. Neff knew how to cast spells, but breaking them? That hadn’t been part of her lessons. Worse still, the Heka priests had possession of the rest of the spells in the Book of the Red Lady too.
Held fast by the guard, Neff watched helplessly as Sitamun followed the king to the line of prisoners.
Kenna, the only one without a hood, looked bewildered when he saw his sister, but to his credit, it took only seconds for understanding to dawn on his face.
The prince was too observant not to notice what Neff herself had seen in Sitamun’s eyes.
Neff fought back the wave of hopelessness that threatened to consume her. There’s still a chance for us to prevail. It all hinges on Rae.
“Kneel,” Meryamun commanded, and the prisoners—some of them simply too weak to stand any longer—dropped to their knees. “Don’t worry,” he said to Kenna, “I’ll save the best for last.” With that, he strode to the other end of the line.
The three Heka priests began to chant from atop the platform.
Meryamun opened his arms, and his green cape spread out behind him like a great wing, its underside threaded in gold that sparkled in the sunlight.
“Today, I am Horus the Falcon!” he boomed. “I am he who perches upon the gate of the Primeval, who overlooks all and flies beyond the reach of gods and men.”
“The word is the deed,” the priests intoned.
Come on, come on, Neff thought anxiously. What’s taking so long?
“Today I am the Great Sun Disk, soaring above the horizon on golden wings!” Meryamun continued.
“I see every enemy in every land, and I curse them with my words, my blows, and the blood of many rivals! Let none who oppose me escape my Eye, and let all suffer the scourge of Horus, Son of Isis, Avenger of the Great Father, the Morning and Evening Star!”
“The word is the deed!”
With one swift strike, Meryamun brought the stone mace down upon the head of the first kneeling figure.
A sickening crack cut through the quiet.
The prisoner arched, stilled, and then slid lifelessly into the pit.
The three priests remained silent. There was no wind in the courtyard, not even an exhalation.
Horrified, Neff stared into the pit, then at Meryamun. Did he look brighter than before?
Neff found Rae in the crowd again, and the rebel’s face blazed with anger and despair.
For the love of Amun, what if that man was her father?
Between the hoods and shapeless rags the prisoners wore, it was nearly impossible to tell one from another.
For Rae to come so far and do so much, only to lose the very person she came to save!
Either way, an innocent person had just been executed, and another would soon follow.
The king stepped up to the next prisoner in line, and the priests resumed their chant.
“Please!” Neff cried out. “Stop!”
Meryamun raised the mace—
“Wait.”
The muffled voice came from the prisoner himself. It was deep, calm—the voice of a man who’d accepted his fate with grace.
Meryamun paused, curious. “Speak.”
“If I am to die,” the prisoner went on, “I wish to do it with my eyes upon Ra, with His glorious light upon my face.”
The king considered the request. “Very well,” he said, and pulled off the hood.
It was then, as Meryamun raised his mace once more and the older man lifted his sun-bronzed face to the sky, that Neff noticed his arms bound behind him. He had only one hand.