Who am I now? If you know all the names, can you tell me mine?
Hovering before the face of the Invisible One in the Holy of Holies, hearing his sacred words in her mind…
Amun created everything, even himself. And all while no one was watching.
Standing before a sea of faces at the king’s coronation and finding her mother and father among them…
They’ll come to see me from all over Bubas, from all over Khetara, to hear your story.
She remembered meeting each of the three people from her visions for the first time:
Sitamun, beautiful and full of secrets, approaching thegoddess during the Festival of Bast.
Karim, all charm and mischief, sneaking into the temple alongside a merchant and a donkey.
Raetawy, a force of nature barely contained, kneeling in the palace courtyard.
The lamb, the lamb, the lamb…
Neff had feared the responsibility the gods had placed upon her, feared that she was unprepared for the task, yet she’d never questioned the validity of the oracle, never once doubted that all the pieces would fall into place, and that Khnum’s word would lead them here.
One wore a crown, another carried a scepter, the third had two shadows, and the last…she was small.
She remembered…
35Rae
She remembered her hands curling into fists as she watched the nomarch spit his gum at her father’s feet…
Don’t you ever wonder why you’re so angry?
She remembered the crack of the whip on her back the day her purpose was born…
Find another way, Raetawy.
Clacking her asa against Asim’s as they sparred in the Garden of the Dead…
My dear girl, you’ve gone and sparked a rebellion.
Killing one of the Medjay during the raid, and feeling the weight of his corpse upon her…
Violence changes you. Once you visit that bleak country, there’s no coming back.
Praying over the dead rebels after the ambush…
Hear me, Ra, Maker of Hours, Lord of Days—hear me and cast your light upon this man.
Tamerit kissing each of the scars on her back…
I would take a hundred more for you.
Striking Omari with the stone scepter, their secrets shattering the bond between them forever…
You’ve never had the courage to do what really needs to be done.
Rae remembered the hypnotic way that Tamerit spun raw fiber into thread, and theshh, clack!of the looms in the weavers’ workshop. The threads wove over and under, creating pattern and design. She thought of a chance meeting on the riverbank, of being chosen from a crowd by a stranger, of being asked to fight alongside a sworn enemy in a war far greater than she’d ever anticipated.
Over and under the threads go, the warp and the weft,shh, clack!
