Maintaining a close relationship with Meryamun was already hard work. Now she had to worry about the queen mother too? Not to mention Master Montuhotep, who was probably scheming away at the temple, planning his revenge on Neff for usurping his position at the king’s side.
The moment she was alone, the dam holding back all her feelings burst, flooding her with fear, despair, and worst of all, breathtaking loneliness.
It had been frightening enough at the Temple of Amun, surrounded by strangers and strangeness, but there she’d had Kenna. The young prince had been a bulwark against the crushing isolation. At the palace she had no one. No one to talk to, no one to guide her, no one to protect her from the multifarious dangers lurking around every corner.
Something soft brushed against her ankles.
A black-striped cat stared up at her with golden eyes.
“Maiow,” the cat said.
Neff’s heart warmed.
Well, almost no one.
At first, Neff assumed the cat was only visiting, but after a day or two, it had become clear that she had come to stay. Neff was delighted to have the company and had arranged a pillow and bowl of fresh water for her new friend near the window to make her feel at home.
“Hello in peace, Cat,” Neff said, kneeling to stroke her. The cat was old and had probably lived at the palace longer than Neff had been alive, so naming her felt presumptuous. In the end, Neff thought it best to simply keep calling her “Cat.”
The cat arched her back and rubbed her face against Neff’s leg.
“I’m very glad to see you. Oh! Did we get another delivery?”
Neff hurried over to the table in the center of the room, where dozens of scrolls and oddments lay arranged in neat piles. They were all supplies the Heka priests had brought for her, at the king’s command. A new batch of items had arrived every day since her initial request to learn the secret art of magic. She got the sense the priests were loath to relinquish their monopoly on such knowledge, so were releasing it in a trickle instead of a gush. Perhaps they hoped the king might change his mind—though Neff would ensure that he wouldn’t.
That day’s delivery was particularly interesting. There was a small ibis figurine—an animal sacred to Thoth, the god of writing, wisdom, and magic—which was a perfect focus object for certain spells.
How funny that I saw one perched on the garden wall this morning!she thought.
There was also a very old figurine of a woman holding a double-headed snake staff, which she found fascinating, though she wasn’t sure of its purpose. Finally, there was a twine-wrapped bundle of papyri that included a variety of spells and instructions on the application of heka.
Neff picked up the bundle, intending to bring it to the window to read while enjoying the tray of food that had been left for her midday meal, when something slipped out and dropped to the floor.
She bent to retrieve the dark-colored scroll, which looked older than the others. Instead of the usual white clay seal, the dark scroll’s seal was black.
Could they have included this by accident?Neff wondered.
She carried the scroll to the window, ate four grapes in quick succession, then gently pried open the seal. The cat leaped onto the sill to join her, sniffing at the food before delicately stealing a chunk of roast duck for herself. Neff unrolled the papyrus,secured the four corners with smooth stones, and began to study it.
Although she was still learning to read the gods’ words, she knew at once that the scroll was part of a larger work and therefore incomplete. Some text was written in red ink—those words, she’d learned, were instructions to the priest on how to properly cast the spell—and the rest was written in black. That portion was the spell itself. All heka was achieved through a combination of object, word, and action; a priest needed all three for the magic to work.
“‘A spell to summon Medjed,’” Neff read from the heading. She looked up at the cat, who was eyeing the plate of cheese. “What’s a Medjed?”
The explanation was probably on another scroll.A scroll I don’t have, Neff thought, after a cursory glance through the other papyri. Her curiosity piqued, she read on.
The instructions were as follows:Take four ostrich feathers and burn them in a green vessel. Turn the bowl three times eastward and one time westward while you speak the words. When you have finished speaking, blow the ashes into the air.
Neff furrowed her brow. She’d learned that burning an object reduced it to its essence, and applying breath had one of two purposes: either to dispel something, like a demon or disease, or to give life. She had the feeling this summoning spell intended the latter.
She didn’t understand the significance of turning the bowl. She knew that the living world was to the east—which was why all Khetaran cities were built on the east side of the river—and the Land of the Dead was in the west. But how did that affect the magic?
She read on.
Ho, Medjed!the spell said.You of the House of the LordofSilence! I call to thee, O smiter! O guardian of the lost! I call you to my side. Protect me with your terrible eyes that see yet are unseen. Come to me, and punish those who would do me harm!
Thoughtful, Neff turned to eat her meal before the cat took it all for herself. Tearing the fragrant flatbread into pieces, she ate them one by one with the squeaky white cheese, then washed it all down with sweet beer.
Medjed must be a minor deity. I could certainly use a guardian, especially a magical one.No, she couldn’t risk it. It was too dangerous to attempt such a spell without reading the supporting text.
