I strained to stretch my leg higher as ordered with the next extension in the dance my mother was teaching us. It was to be our first group performance as the upcoming generation of dancers in Pharaoh’s court, and we had to be flawless.
“Higher!”
I’m trying, I thought, but I dared not speak back to her, for she gave no more quarter than Pharaoh or any of his elite would should we displease them.
Several others, particularly the girls, had no trouble with their extensions, but the most limber among us was without a doubt Nakht, whose long legs could arch upward until his foot touched his forehead.
As we continued to dance in tandem, Nakht made certain I saw how much better he could perform the move compared to me. He even smirked in my direction.
“Notthathigh, Nakht,” Mother warned, and he startled so much at being singled out, he lost his balance, knocking three other dancers to the floor and tumbling atop them.
The rest of us laughed.
“All right now!” Mother called to calm us. Those Nakht had toppled into were roughly pushing him off of them, each in different directions so it was looking increasingly more like a brawl. “Enough! We will break and return to this in the afternoon.” Mother helped Nakht to stand and told him sternly, “Do not show off and extend out of step unless you are a solo dancer. Do you understand?”
“Yes, teacher,” he said, with a bow of his head.
Then Mother looked to me. “Work on your flexibility. I expect a better show of it when we return to this later.”
“Yes, Mother.” I bowed my head in kind.
She was firm only because she knew firsthand that sloppy dancers did not stay in the troupe for long, but were cast back into the kitchens or gardens or worse. If we did well, we livedwell, and as Mother left the room, I promised myself I would always live well. I would. I…
I…
Lived?
Was I still alive?
“What else is to be expected from an orphan,” one of the other dancers, a tall girl who had been in the tumble, spat toward Nakht with a prowl in her step.
The others he had knocked over, and soon, the rest of the dancers too, closed in around Nakht, backing him toward the far wall.
“Always trying to be the center of attention because no parents claimed you, is that it?” another child asked.
Their sneers were terrible, cruel for no reason other than wanting to make Nakht feel small.
“Your mother left you on Pharaoh’s doorstep and perished,” the first girl said, a true story as far as any of us knew, “struck down by the gods themselves, for not even they wanted you.”
“Stop that.” I stormed through their ranks, pushing them away from Nakht so I might make a wall between him and his attackers, smaller though I may have been compared to several of them. They would not dare lay a hand on me when my mother was Pharaoh’s favorite, and if one could not use their privilege to help others, what good was it? “You think yourselves somehow better because a few of you knowoneof your true parents? Even those of you who know both, how are we different from each other? Are we not all the gods’ children? Yes,all, for if they truly did not want any of us, we would not be here. Are we not peers? Are we not slaves together?”
The venom in my words caused the line of others to step back.
“Everyone has things they do not know about themselves, that someday, they might, and other times, they might not. Everyonehas secrets they might never tell too, but we must be able to trust one another, or we are all doomed.”
I had my own secret, after all. I knew I was beginning to like Nakht, insufferable though he could be at times, and far more than I ever imagined I could like anyone.
The girl who had initiated the attack stepped toward me. Most of the girls were taller than the boys at this age, and she was the tallest.
“What, so you’re his friend now?” she scoffed.
It made no sense to make enemies of the only people we had to count on in life, but I would rather risk that than be part of the mob they were creating, singling one person out for something he had no control over, especially when I knew their motives were even more selfish at their core, all because he made them feel inferior. “Nakht bolsters me to do better,” I said. “What are you worth to me other than background noise?”
A few of the others gasped in surprise, even snickered, as the tall girl went red in the face, fists clenched in anger. But she had no comeback, and she could not use her fists without reprimand.
I turned around, leaving myself vulnerable should she dare strike me, and took hold of Nakht’s hand to lead him out from the prison of our peers. He looked stunned but also could not contain a small smile as we left the others and went into an adjoining practice room.
Nakht didn’t want to show the negative effects of the confrontation, but I could feel his agitation and pain in the tremble of his hand. Once we had reached the safety of the far side of the practice room and none of the others had proven to follow us, I turned toward him to make sure he was all right.
