Karim moved to study one of the images. It looked like a family portrait. There was a man and a woman facing each other, painted in the same strange style as the figures he saw in Setnakht’s tomb. The man was clearly the pharaoh himself. He wore a crown with a serpent at his brow, and Karim recognizedthe familiar symbols for Setnakht’s name below the image. The woman must be his queen, but she wore no crown. Instead, she was bald and had little eyes on each side of her chest, much like the young seer at the Temple of Amun.
“Setnakht’s wife was a priestess,” he said. “And I think they had a son.” He pointed to the small, naked figure in the woman’s arms.
Sitamun squinted at the writing below the woman’s picture. “Her name was Queen Anet. No mention of the child’s name.”
“He had everything,” Karim said bitterly, gesturing toward the idyllic family scene. “A wife, a son, riches beyond measure, a kingdom at his feet. Was that not enough?”
Sita’s expression was solemn. “In some men, power creates a thirst that cannot be quenched, no matter how much of it they drink. Perhaps Setnakht was such a man.” Her eyes darkened. “My brother is one too.” She moved to the center of the room, shining her candle onto the paintings around her. “What I don’t understand is: There are images of the queen all over this chamber, which leads me to believe your vision brought us to the right place. But where is her tomb? Where are her grave goods?”
The ground beneath Karim’s feet trembled, and a sudden grinding sound filled the air. In the space of an instant, a black hole opened in the stone floor where Sita was standing.
The princess shrieked and was gone.
Karim leaped toward the hole and stared over the edge, screaming her name. “Sita! Can you hear me?Sitamun!” He squinted into the blackness, begging every god who would listen to spare the princess’s life.
In the gloom, he spied a pinprick of light.
The candle!
Somehow, the flame hadn’t gone out.
He heard a soft groan.
“Sitamun!”
“I’m…I’m all right.”
Karim nearly collapsed with relief. He dropped down on his belly next to the hole and lowered his torch into it. A weak tendril of firelight reached Sita’s upturned face. She blinked up at him, a slash of blood across her cheek.
“Trapdoor?” Karim asked.
“Trapdoor.”
He watched as Sita pushed herself out of the rubble and onto her feet. She hissed, then leaned against the wall of the pit. “I twisted my ankle in the fall.”
“Is it broken?”
There was a pause. “No, I don’t think so.”
Karim pulled the rope from his pack. “Hold on. I’ll pull you out.” Grasping one end, he tossed the rope into the pit.
The princess strained to reach it. “It’s too short!” A note of panic entered her voice. “I’m trapped, and no one even knows we’re here…”
“I’ll get help!” Karim exclaimed. “I know the way out. I’ll run back to the village and get Elyas. We’ll bring a longer rope and get you out of there. All right, sena? I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise.”
Are you really doing this again? Leaving someone you care about alone in the dark?
First there was silence. Then Sita said, “All right.”
Her voice was calm, but Karim could hear the terror working to claw its way out.
Feeling sick, Karim turned away from the hole and ran.
14Neff
Neff sat in the banquet hall, partaking of a midday meal with the pharaoh and a congregation of palace officials and priests. Attendants laden with platters and water jugs filed in and out, while other servants stood nearby waving ostrich feather fans, ensuring that a steady breeze cooled the stifling air.
She picked at her bowl of stewed fava beans, anxious to return to her chambers after her afternoon duties were complete. She was desperate to open the scroll that Ahura had delivered the day before and see what Kenna had sent her.
