And then the stone-on-stone rumble filled the room again. Not the door this time. Like a dream, one entire wall of their cell slid away. Cool air wafted around them. The smoke rose up and out in a billow of gray. Light cut through the foggy air. Orpheus had her by the shoulders and was helping her to her feet.
She blinked rapidly. Through the dispelling haze, she could make out a vast hall ahead of them with brightly painted columns. Colorful tapestries draped the walls, and a long red rug led to a dais. She squinted to make out who or what was on that platform at the other end of the room, but her eyes still stung from the smoke, and their watering blurred her vision. Alena leaned into Orpheus, and together they hobbled along the aisle. Fire burned in a series of great gold bowls lighting their way. Alena blinked and blinked again.
Dread filled her heart when she realized who it was on that platform, sitting on her golden throne. Not some soldier or priest or counselor as she’d expected but Cleopatra herself.
Her hair was as black and shiny as the Nile at midnight, and her clothing was solid gold. Everything about her was fashioned to intimidate her subjects, from the robe made to resemble the feathers of Isis to the headdress of horns that framed a large red disk that reflected the light of the flickering torches in a way that seemed supernatural.
Alena swallowed hard. This woman ruled Egypt. She truly might be a goddess for all Alena knew. She definitely held their lives in her hands. It was said she was beautiful, but Alena didn’t see beauty, only power. She radiated it like a deadly, burning sun.
Orpheus tugged her shoulders as they arrived at the base of the dais, and she followed his lead, dropping to her knees beside him.
An elderly man who stood beside the pharaoh announced, “All hail Cleopatra, the embodiment of Isis, sister to Horus and Ra, and queen of all Egypt.”
Alena lowered her forehead to the floor and prayed to all the gods whose names she could remember that the worst was already behind her.
Chapter Two
“Rise,” Cleopatra commanded.
Orpheus climbed to his feet and helped Alena to hers. She seemed rightfully flustered, and he steadied her with a firm hand on her shoulder. Everything about this situation made him uneasy. It was well known that Cleopatra had become unhinged in recent years. On a whim, she could have both of them beheaded and spend the rest of the afternoon kicking their skulls around her throne room for sport. Her power was ultimate.
Alena had saved his life. She must feel something for him despite what had happened between them. Though this was not how he’d thought things would proceed.Heshould be savingherif he was ever going to make up for what he’d done to her. It was rotten luck that he’d needed rescuing. His spell should have been sufficient. But all magic was unpredictable, especially here in the palace where it was said the gods were closest to the realm of man.
“Two. Only two worthy sorcerers in all my lands,” Cleopatra snapped. Her blood-colored nails dug into the arms of her throne as she scowled at the pile of bodies still in the stone room at the other end of the enormous hall. “So be it. You will be my champions.”
Orpheus fisted his hands to keep from saying something he might regret. Years ago, he’d heard that Cleopatra had rolled herself inside a carpet and had it delivered to Julius Caesar in order to orchestrate a meeting with the emperor. A cunning move. That relationship had resulted in a son, a son whose father had been murdered. Now the queen was married to Mark Antony, although he was away fighting her battles. People around Cleopatra tended to die. Her merciless rule was characterized by a great many more horrors than a few dead priests.
It was all made worse by his desire to protect Alena. She was a powerful healer, but she had the gentlest soul he’d ever come across. He’d spent months chastising himself over the lie of omission. Those aristocratic women had treated her cruelly with their nasty gossip and outright rejection of her. Alena had been the source of the most exciting kiss he’d ever experienced, and he was painfully aware that, underneath her tattered cloak, she had the heart of an angel. Several other interesting things probably existed beneath that cloak as well. Things he should very much like to explore in the future if he survived this day.
He took a fortifying breath and tried to think about what his father would do in this situation. The man could usually talk his way out of anything.
“How can I be of service to you, my queen?” he said lightly. He bowed low, his stomach churning at the thought of carrying out any appalling request the ruler might make.
Cleopatra drummed her fingers on the arm of her throne. “You are Orpheus, the barber?”
“Yes.” Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Alena’s head turn, and her perusal burned against his cheek.
“And you…” Cleopatra turned her full attention on Alena. “They call you a hedge witch, the Healer of the Nile.”
Alena’s throat bobbed. “An exaggeration. I have an affinity for plants and herbs and their many uses.”
“I have been told by a reliable source that you brought a man’s goat back from the dead.”
“I only kept it from dying.”
“Are you saying my source is a liar?”
Orpheus cringed. He could see Alena growing flustered. Didn’t she realize that downplaying her gifts would only hurt her situation? They’d survived Cleopatra’s test. The pharaoh would not believe her denial of power now.
“Perhaps the man only thought the goat was dead,” he offered.
Alena blinked rapidly. “That’s right. Your source isn’t lying; he simply wasn’t near enough to see what I saw. The goat was still alive. I gave it a tonic, and it revived. That is all.”
Cleopatra lifted her chin. “A barber and a simple healer.” She stared down her nose at them from her throne. “Still, you survived my test when my most powerful priests did not. There may be hope for you yet.”
“I was fortunate to have my bag of pharmacopoeia with me.” Alena tapped the large satchel at her hip.
“And you shall have it when you take up my quest.”
