“People often make assumptions about us,” the bright sister went on. “They believe I am the benevolent one. But I have wrath. I can manipulate and deceive. I have punished those who have not given me shelter, and I have stolen secrets from my own father in his time of need.”
“Others believe I am mournful,” the somber sister added. “Yet I also bring comfort. Joy. I have nursed the children of strangers and given guidance to the lost.”
The sisters then began speaking in tandem, first one, then the other, like the recitation of a poem written long ago.
“The existence of evil does not negate the potential for good.”
“Nor does the existence of good negate the potential for evil.”
“Within the vastness of your soul, there exists all things.”
“Just as the earth contains wonders and horrors in equal measure,”
“The brightest sunlight casts the deepest shadow.”
“And in profound darkness, the smallest star can be a beacon.”
The flow of words made Sita feel lightheaded, but she kept walking, so as not to lose the women in the dim, winding tunnel.
“Perhaps you and your brotherarethe same,” one sister said, Sita couldn’t tell which. “Perhaps you are capable of unimaginable things too.”
Sita shivered, uncertain how to reply to such strange tidings.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked after they had walked a while in silence. “Is this another way out of the temple? Karim will wonder about me…” Before either woman could answer, the tunnel walls caught Sita’s attention. “Wait! There are paintingshere. This is Queen Anet, Setnakht’s wife!”
Sita stopped to point at a picture of a familiar bald-headed woman. In the image, the queen held a staff entwined with two serpents and stood in front of a falcon-headed god on a great golden boat. “This is Ra on his solar barque, on his nightly journey through the underworld,” she said, fascinated. “Queen Anet goes before him, walking on water, almost as if she is protecting him.”
She squinted at the image of a red fish below the queen’s feet. “My tutor told me about this. The name Anet…” She paused, then snapped her fingers. “Yes! Anet is a sacred fish who, along with her brother Abtu, alerts Ra and protects him during his journey.” She regarded the ancient queen with new eyes. “She must have been a powerful priestess to have been given that name.”
The two women listened, their expressions patient and knowing.
“This is the way to her tomb, isn’t it? Her actual tomb. Perhaps Setnakht wanted to ensure that it wouldn’t be found by tomb robbers, so he installed traps and a hidden door in the room above leading down to this tunnel.”
The somber sister patted Sita on the shoulder. “You took…the hard way.”
Sita sighed. “Don’t I always?”
The woman shrugged. “I would rather wield a tempered blade than one that has never endured the flames.”
Sita’s cheeks reddened.
“Instead of focusing on your shortcomings,” the bright sister commented, “remember your strengths. The word is the deed. What you say, what you think, becomes your reality.”
Sita stopped. “What did you say?”
The Hudjefa wouldn’t know such words.
They’d reached the end of the tunnel. The two women stoodbeside each other in the archway ahead, one bathed in the torch’s firelight, the other cloaked in shadow.
“The word is the deed,” the women repeated in unison, the sound reverberating through the space.
The somber sister smiled and turned her back. “You can find your own way from here, Sitamun.”
“What?” Sita said. “You can’t leave me. What if I get lost?”
The other woman turned away too, a mirror of her sister. “You won’t. You’re exactly where you need to be.”
With that, she hurled the torch into the chamber.
