Marika placed a hand on his elbow. “I don’t believe it.”
Jake didn’t feel as confident.
When they climbed the last narrow staircase, a wide passageway decorated in rich tapestries opened ahead of them. The floors were covered in the petals of some desert rose, casting a sweet scent to the air.
Kady put her hands on her hips. “Let me guess. The royal quarters.”
Shaduf shushed her and hurried them forward past niches guarded by statues of Egyptian gods. “We’ve just climbed a private servant stair. The palace guards are not far off. We must move swiftly. The cover of our cloaks will not hide us up here.”
“Where are we going?” Jake asked.
“To Nefertiti’s rooms. If we hope to stop Kree’s plan, we will need her help.”
The old man guided them through an archway to a polished wooden door carved with hieroglyphics. He knocked softly. A sharp voice responded. The words were muffled, but the tone was all princess. A moment later the door creaked open, and a tiny face peered out. It was a young girl, barely eight, probably a handmaiden.
From inside, a harsh call swept out. “I do not wish to be disturbed.”
Shaduf patted the child on the head and pulled the door wider. “Hurry in,” he ordered.
Happy to escape the open hall, Jake led his friends inside. The main room was lavishly decorated with fine cloths and heavily cushioned furniture, all done in royal purples with splashes of gold. A peek through a side door revealed a bedroom.
Ahead, framed before an open balcony facing the setting sun, stood a familiar figure dressed in a white-pleated dress with a red sash. Nefertiti had her back to them, twisting the end of her sash as she stared at the bird’s-eye view of the city far below. Sensing their presence, she swung around.
“I told you I don’t want—”
Her words cut off as she recognized the invaders. Her face struggled to understand, but she showed no fear. Her eyes were puffy and red, her cheeks damp from tears. With her face scrubbed of paint, she looked fragile and real—but she still had a princess’s temper.
“Outlanders! How dare you trespass here?” She waved to her handmaiden. “Summon the guards!”
The child jumped to obey and collided with Shaduf’s legs. He caught her and held her gently. His eyes remained on Nefertiti. “Is that how you greet your uncle?”
Nefertiti wrinkled her nose in distaste at the sight of the old man. “My uncle is dead.”
He shrugged and stepped forward. “Not from lack of trying by Master Kree.”
She searched his face, ready to scoff again, but then her eyes widened in recognition. For once she showed true fear. A hand rose to her throat. Her eyes flicked to Jake.
“What manner of sorcery is this?”
Shaduf came forward, but Nefertiti backed toward the open balcony as if ready to hurl herself to her death. The old man held up his hand. “It is no sorcery. Believe me. Only the treachery of the Blood of Ka.”
She still looked unconvinced.
The old man sighed, sagging. “Child, I used to bounce you on my knee when your mother was still alive. I sang to you, and she played the flute. I taught you how to sharpen a spear and took you on your first hunt … against your father’s orders, as I recall. We both got a tongue-lashing after that.”
The fear slowly changed to a shining hope. “Uncle Shaduf …”
He held open his arms. After a moment’s hesitation, she rushed and hugged tightly to him, heavy beard and grime forgotten.
“How?” she mumbled into his chest.
“I will explain all. But your father’s in great danger.”
She straightened and stared up at him, distraught. “Then you heard. He’s fallen again into his great slumber. I only got to speak to him for a few breaths … and even then he was still half in dream, making no sense.” Her fingers tightened on Shaduf’s arms. “He showed great agitation, crying out whenever one of the Blood of Ka priests drew near to his bed. I knew something was wrong.”
Shaduf turned to Jake. “The snwn must have already given my brother the first draught of nightshadow.”
It took Jake a moment to understand. Snwn was the ancient Egyptian word for “doctor.” He pictured the painted man in the royal clothes. He wasn’t a servant but the royal physician.
“He will not wait long to give the second,” Shaduf warned.
Bach’uuk repeated the words they’d heard earlier. “Two draughts. Two will fall.”
“What are you talking about?” Nefertiti asked.
“Come. I will explain as we go.”
Nefertiti grabbed her sword from a tabletop as they headed out. Shaduf quickly explained everything as they rushed down the hall. As the plot became clear, fury sped her feet.
At the end of the hall stood a larger door banded in gold. Without knocking, Nefertiti shoved it open.
The pharaoh’s bed had been set up in the main room, facing the open balcony. Even with the warm breeze, the place smelled of unguents and acrid oils. A thin, pale-skinned man lay under a thin sheet. His body was skeletally thin, wasted to bone.
A young woman shot to her feet as they all barged inside. She had been kneeling at the bedside. She looked about frantically until she recognized Nefertiti.
“Sister, what is this commotion? You gave me a deathly fright.”
Though a few years older, the resemblance was unmistakable, even down to the same swollen red eyes. But she carried herself with more grace. Her hands and face were meticulously powdered white, her eyes thickly lined in black.
Jake searched the room. There was no sign of the doctor.
“Layla,” Nefertiti demanded, “where is Thutmose?”
Her sister shook her head, not understanding. “Gone. He said he had another elixir he believed would help Father. He would come back after the sun set.”
Jake turned to Nefertiti. “That must be when he plans on giving the second draught.”
“Who are these people?” Layla asked, her voice soft with worry. She definitely didn’t have the constitution of her younger sister.
Nefertiti looked at them, plainly unsure how to answer.
Pindor stepped in. Ever since seeing Nefertiti again, his spirits had brightened. “We’re friends,” he stammered out. “Right?”
He clearly wanted to be more than a friend.
“And we’re family,” Shaduf added, hobbling forward.
Once again the revelation unfolded, and Layla went from shock, to horror, to delight. And like her sister, she ended up in a warm embrace, leaning on her uncle as if a burden she’d been carrying could be shared.