19

  In the dim corner, a panel swung open to reveal a hidden cavity.

  Barely a foot square, an ornate golden stand sat empty. Whatever object it once held aloft had been plundered. But it was the drawings on the inside of the panel that caught Rachel’s breath.

  A man held the box at chest height, captured in ink as he opened the lid. Some words were spoken, the hieroglyphics carved in the space between man and box. Before him, a woman clutched at an oval object held to her chest. Shards fell from between her fingers and were frozen in time before they hit the ground at her feet.

  Cara and Nate exchanged glances.

  “Whatever that thing is in the chest, it will break Nefertiti’s Heart,” Cara whispered.

  “But why would he do that, when she saved his life and he loved her?” Rachel didn’t understand how obsession could turn murderous. How could someone craft such a terrible revenge on someone they claimed to love?

  “In his mind, she betrayed him, and apparently he wasn’t the forgiving type,” Cara replied.

  At that moment, a rumble travelled along the floor and up their legs. The tomb groaned as stone rubbed against stone and the ground swayed like an earthquake.

  “We’ll discuss his motives later. Right now, we need to get out.

  Opening that has triggered something.” Nate herded them to the stairs as the vibrations grew stronger.

  Dust fell from above, seeping through the fine gaps between the stones. The guards swayed and their spears crossed as they tumbled toward one another.

  “Run!” Nate shouted, urging them along the tunnel in front of him.

  Rachel didn’t need to be told twice. She clutched the lantern and took off as the tunnel undulated. Her breath came in short gasps as more dust and sand fell from above and pushed its way into her lungs. Her booted feet pounded the stone, her lantern swinging back and forth. A primal roar from the earth filled her ears and blotted out any sound from the others behind her.

  The next instant her headlong dash came to a sudden halt as Miguel grabbed her arm and hauled her around to his chest.

  “Stop!” He pointed with his lantern to her feet. Inches away sat the trap. Like the hippo’s hungry jaws, it waited to consume the unwary.

  She nodded her thanks, drew a breath, and jumped. Rachel cast a quick glance over her shoulder to check the others jumped the pit with sharpened spikes and then kept running. More sand piled into the tunnel and soon she ran on a beach. The drifts tugged at her calves and slowed her pace.

  A scream sounded along the passage, competing with the cry of the stones grinding on each other.

  Rachel’s heart leapt into her throat. Pavlin. The dragon screamed again and Rachel redoubled her effort.

  Diffused light shone up ahead. Rachel climbed over the broken slab to find Pavlin sitting in the hole, her wings spread to protect the entrance from the falling sand and rubble that tumbled down the canyon wall.

  The others burst out of the tomb and into the shelter of the dragon-wing umbrella. Men helped them climb from the hole as rubble piled around Pavlin’s feet and she began to sink as though she stood in quicksand.

  “You need to get out, we’re free now!” Rachel waited for her friend.

  Sand flowed faster than water, running into the pit as the sides collapsed. The dragon called out and launched herself. The desert lapped at Pavlin’s tail, but her wings carried her upward and she shot to the sky like the cork from a champagne bottle.

  Rachel watched her friend flap her way up to a perch, relieved that the creature seemed unharmed.

  She turned to find Miguel standing next to her. He reached out and brushed a lock of hair off her face. Concern pulled at the corner of his eyes. “You’re bleeding.”

  Rachel raised a hand and probed at her temple. “It’s not much, only a graze.”

  Miguel stroked her jaw and cupped her chin in his hand.

  Rachel’s breath caught in her throat. She wanted to kiss him, but if she did that she would never know if he wanted to kiss her, or if he was only being polite. She never imagined figuring out relationships would prove to be more difficult than quadratic equations.

  He leaned forward and his lips brushed against hers. Rachel closed her eyes and drank in the experience.

  Equation solved. He did want to kiss her. Except now a whole new raft of equations sprang into her mind, until she imagined a twenty-foot tall blackboard covered in fiendish kiss-arithmetic calculations. Did he like her and did this mean they in a relationship now?

  No. Mentally she wiped out a portion of the board. This was a fledgling first step in a new direction. Nessy advised her to kiss as many men, and women, as took her fancy. That the whole point of being young was to engage in harmless flirtations, embrace the world, and find your place in it. That was exactly what Rachel intended to do—embrace the experience and enjoy each moment.

  “Just so we are clear, I like kissing you. But if you would rather I didn’t, a simple no will suffice. Please don’t stab me or use that killer left hook,” he murmured against her lips.

  She ran her hands up over his shoulders. “I like kissing you, too.”

  “Good. I’m glad we are friends. Apart from the delight of being able to kiss you, I like you, Rachel—you’re fascinating, intelligent, and can run fast when we have to.” He let her go as a crewman approached.

  Rachel sat on the sand, feeling rather smug with how the day had gone, and wiped a wet cloth over her face and neck. Cara and Nate sat not far away, drinking fresh water to soothe sandy throats.

  “Now we know how the entrance got covered in after the Curator had been here.” Humour infused Miguel’s words.

  “I wonder how he didn’t get trapped. I didn’t think he was the sort to run?” Rachel mused as she watched Pavlin preen her wings high above.

  “The Curator wielded magic that might have aided his exit from the tomb. Wafa mentioned he had a funny stick, which would have been his staff that held the trapped rahab. Perhaps the serpent could control sand, since it moves like water?” Cara suggested.

  Nate stood and placed his hands on his hips. “I think we’ve learned all we can from here. Let’s head back to the airship and get cleaned up.”

  Rachel waved to Pavlin as ideas swirled in her head. The scene they found in tomb suggested the organ in the box would break Nefertiti’s heart. But how? Thoughts spiralled in different directions. Assuming it was a lung, lungs contained air. Could the air somehow infect Cara? No, that didn’t fit. She recalled the painting to mind. The mage spoke something—that must be a spell. Did the spell bring the lung to life…or could the spell be contained in the lung?

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  Cara climbed back on the horse and turned its head to Amarna.

  They were so close to piecing together the entirety of what happened centuries ago. She suspected that Nakht’s soul was bound to the queen’s inside the Heart, but how did that come about? Did Nefertiti commit some great betrayal against Rahotep, or had madness warped the mage’s perception of a girl’s kindness? There were a few sad men who would rather destroy something if they could not possess it.

  Back at the airship, she stood motionless, staring at the ruins.

  She should go bathe and scrub the sand and dirt from her skin.

  But her feet wanted to walk in another direction.

  “You’re going back, aren’t you?” Nate’s voice came from beside her.

  “Yes. Because you are right.” She reached up and traced the line of his cheek down to his jaw and brushed her thumb over his lips.

  Thousands of years, two forms, one soul. Or had there been other incarnations of them over the centuries, but they had failed to find one another? “Nefertiti’s secret has lain hidden in the sand for thousands of years. Time to scrape away the layers and reveal the full extent of what she wants me to know.”

  “I’m coming with you.” His grip on her hand tightened as they walked toward the remnants of the royal apartments.

  “How?” To have Nate walk the city as it once was would be a huge advantage. He perceived things in a different way to her and might spot a clue she had missed.

  “I have an idea. Blood binds our souls together in the Heart.

  What if it would work here to pull us into the same memory?” He let her go as she stepped between a narrow pass and they emerged on the other side.

  “It’s no worse than any of our other crazy ideas.” Cara stood in the middle of what had once been Nefertiti’s suite of rooms.

  Nate drew the small blade from his boot and took her hand. He pricked the centre of her palm and a droplet of blood welled up.

  Then he did the same to his hand and slid the blade back home in his boot. He clasped her hand and merged the droplets of blood between their skin.

  Tears shimmered behind Cara’s eyes as a myriad of emotions washed through her. “Watch over me.”

  Nate kissed their joined hands. “Always. In this life and the next.”

  Cara closed her eyes and opened herself to Nefertiti. “Show me the end to this story,” she whispered.

  Light flickered behind her closed lids. The harsh white light grew dimmer until golden hues and red warmed her skin.

  She opened her eyes to find the mounded sand and chunks of ruins had vanished. Once again, she stood in the palace. The walls seemed to be alive with life-sized, detailed murals. Characters were gilded with pure gold that glowed by the flickering torch light.

  Voices and a cry beyond an arch drew Cara’s attention. She reached out a hand to part gossamer thin curtains hanging over a doorway. Her arm was heavy with the golden bracelets stacked on her wrists. Beads tapped against each other, swinging at the ends of her braids when she moved her head. A gentle swish came from the linen dress covering the body her mind inhabited.

  Within the next room, servants stood around the walls, blending in with the scenes painted at their backs. A double bed covered in a rumpled sheet stood against one wall. The high posts at each end were carved like lotus flowers. A young girl sat on the edge of the bed. Her linen shift crinkled and pulled off one shoulder.

  Her arms wrapped around a swollen belly.

  Oh, God! She’s only a child. The expectant mother couldn’t have been any more than thirteen. Cara swallowed her revulsion and the surge of anger that wanted to wrap her hands around the throat of the guilty party.

  The girl’s face shimmered for a moment and adopted another set of features. It could have been me, or Rachel, if our lives had played out differently. Cara kept to the shadows inside

  Nefertiti, the memory too raw and painful for her to step fully into the queen’s soul.

  Wide, dark eyes sought Nefertiti and an ache speared through her heart. This was her child, now heavy with a child that struggled to be born.

  “Mother! I am scared,” the girl cried out.

  “Meketaten.” The name flew to her lips as she rushed to the girl’s side. “I am here now. With the help of Taweret, we shall welcome this child into the world.”

  The girl gasped, her back arching as pain gripped her. When it passed, she collapsed against Nefertiti. Tears and sweat dampened her shift. “We have been burning offerings to Taweret, but she is not answering my prayers.”

  Nefertiti hushed her daughter and gestured to a servant. The woman answered the silent command and knelt to present a carved wooden bowl of water. Nefertiti took the cloth and squeezed out the excess. Then she wiped Meketaten’s face.

  She spoke to her daughter in a soothing tone. “There is sickness upon the land and the gods are very busy tending to those in need. Taweret will answer when we need her most, I am certain.”

  A scream tore from the girl and attendants rushed to her side.

  Nefertiti held her daughter tight and murmured to her until the contraction passed, leaving the young girl gasping.

  A woman bowed before Nefertiti. Her eyes darted back and forth.

  “Great queen, I must speak with you privately.”

  Nefertiti helped her daughter lie on the bed, then she rose to her feet and gestured for the woman to follow her out to the wide balcony. “What is it?”

  “Your daughter is young and her body not yet fully formed.” The woman kept her head bowed.

  “I am aware of this.” Anger surged inside Nefertiti. Her daughter remained silent on the identity of the father. Suspicions wormed into her brain, but horror kept her from confronting them.

  “The child… is large.” The woman gestured in the air with her hands and swallowed.

  Fear gripped Nefertiti’s heart. Her daughter fought an impossible battle. A large boat cannot slide down a narrow canal. She dug her nails into her palms. “We place our faith in the gods. They will not fail us. Burn more offerings.”

  Minutes ticked into hours as the day lengthened outside the window. The sun dropped toward the horizon and bled across the sky. Meketaten’s screams became cries, and then whimpers.

  Nefertiti cradled her daughter and told her stories of her childhood. She remembered the toddler with chubby arms who chased dragonflies by the ponds. Her delight at her first ride on a horse with her hands wrapped in its mane.

  “I cannot,” Meketaten murmured and then fell silent. Breath struggled to draw into her lungs. Her sweat-soaked head rested on her mother’s chest.

  “Meketaten, you must tell me who is the father. Please, my child,” Nefertiti whispered against her daughter’s brow.

  Feet scuffled as another person entered the chamber. Pharaoh stood at the door and surveyed the scene drenched in sweat and blood. “Do I have another heir yet? Why is this taking so long?”

  Disgust and revulsion slithered through Nefertiti and she swallowed sharp bile. “You did this to our daughter?”

  Her arms tightened around the child as the last breath sighed from her body. The ripples across Meketaten’s belly slowed and stopped as two children lost their battles and their souls slipped to the underworld.

  Cara’s heart broke as grief shattered Nefertiti. The queen rocked her daughter in her arms. “Come back to me, Meketaten.”

  Pharaoh stepped further into the room. “The Aten has spoken. He has called Meketaten to him. She will be one of my guards in the afterlife and protect me for eternity.”

  “You have stolen my child from me,” Nefertiti hissed as tears rolled down her face.

  “She is a girl, and you have given me many others. I need sons.”

  He turned to leave the room and pointed to one of the attendants.

  “Have the child removed. I would know what it was.”

  Rage bubbled in Nefertiti’s chest. This man spoke callously of their daughter’s death and that of the child trapped in her womb.

  Sickness struck their people, and some muttered that worship of the Aten caused the old gods to abandon them. No longer would she remain silent and endure.

  She buried her face in Meketaten’s hair and rocked the girl, as she had done to soothe her when her daughter had been a babe.

  Servants moved around her, clearing away soiled and bloody linens. Darkness fell and one by one, torches flared into life around the room.

  “Come, my queen. It is time to give her to the women, so that she might be cleaned and prepared to meet Ma’at.” A warm hand fell on Nefertiti’s shoulder and she swallowed a sob. A familiar touch that seeped love into her chilled skin.

  She looked up into the worried face of Nakht. An echo of Nate within his dark eyes.

  He has found me , Cara thought as she grieved with Nefertiti.

  Nakht signalled two women closer and they took the limp child from her arms. Then the captain leaned down and slid an arm under the queen’s knees and swung her into his arms, carrying her from the bed chamber that reeked of death.

  In her suite, the captain dismissed the attendants and laid his queen on a chaise. He knelt at her side, keeping hold of her hands as he stroked Nefertiti’s face.

  She turned into his touch. “I cannot live like this anymore. Nor is it the life I want for our child. Pharaoh brought us here promising a golden city, but he has given us lies, sorrow, and pain. My heart is broken and I weep for all my children.”

  Nakht remained silent for several moments before asking, “What if I were to destroy this life, so that you can emerge from the ashes to live a new one?”

  “I fear that is the only way to escape. Either Akhenaten or Rahotep intend to bind my soul to theirs for eternity.” A ragged shudder ran through her body.

  “What if there was another way?” He glanced over his shoulder to ensure they remained alone.

  Grief clouded her thoughts as tears turned her vision hazy. “I don’t understand.”

  “What if the life of Nefertiti, the Great Royal Wife, ends here?

  But the woman who possesses my heart, Karo, slips away into the night to be with her lover and child?” He turned her hand over and drew circles on her palm that made Cara think of the tiny prick Nate made to bind their blood and souls in this memory.

  Nefertiti’s mind drew back from the offered hope. Part of her thought it a cruel jest, to let her think she could bear his child far away from the poison that pervaded the royal court.

  “Rahotep will never let me go. He only needs a drop of my blood to cast me into an eternity of torture. I fear a servant might prick my skin as I sleep and I will awake his prisoner.”

  “Do you trust me?” His eyes glinted in the low light.

  “With my life.” Part of her had died this night. What did it matter if the rest of her followed?

  Nakht kissed her tenderly and then rose to his feet. “I promise you, I will ensure Rahotep can never touch you.”

  20

  Nakht left the only woman he would ever love and strode along the halls to the military barracks. There, he gathered thirty of his most trusted men. Warriors who served him, not Pharaoh. Those in power thought soldiers loyal only to them, never realising that the captains who fought alongside the soldiers held true power.

  Nakht followed Akhenaten’s orders because it kept him close to Nefertiti. Tonight, all that had changed.

  A short and slender man was given a difficult and vital mission.

 

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