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Pharaoh

Chapter Fourteen

Perhaps she was imagining it, but being a Keeper seemed to make Sakura see the magic in everything. Even her leisurely strolls through the palace had her seeing a glittering in the sky, a shimmer on the pillars, an impossible reflection on the solid stone floors. She looked down at her Clow staff, which she had glamoured so it would appear to just be a walking stick. Checking to make sure no one was around, she undid the disguise so it suddenly shone its bright pink hew again, and the little bird-like head stood commandingly at its top. Such an intricate design for such a little thing.

She walked along the corridor, switching the way she held the staff. Like a cane, like a sword, like a wand, like a dagger. She wasn't sure how she should do it, if there was a proper way or if she just had to go with what made the most sense to her.

"Being foolish about keeping our magic a secret again, are we?"

Sakura spun around, blushing, at the sound of Syaoran's dry voice. He was standing there with his arms crossed, a cloak around his shoulders and a bag hanging around his neck. She tried to glamour the staff again in haste, and it came out with splashes of a wood pattern on it. Syaoran raised an eyebrow.

"That's not fair, you snuck up on me," Sakura retorted.

He rolled his eyes. "That doesn't matter, you shouldn't be parading around with it out in the open like that in the first place."

"It was glamoured," she protested, "just not when you happened to walk by!"

"Well, that sounds like a lie, but that's not what I'm here for," he said, his eyes glimmering.

She huffed and properly disguised her staff again. "Fine, then, what are you here for?"

Syaoran cocked his head, appraising her from head to toe. "Would you consider your clothes suitable to a little roaming around?"

She looked down at herself, gathering some of the fabric of her linen dress in her fingers. "I . . . suppose?"

"Good."

He took her hand and started pulling her along with him. She ignored the sing of his touch and frowned at him.

"Hey! Where are we going to roam, then?" she demanded.

"Oh, you know." His voice was casual. "The city, the market, that sort of thing."

Sakura gaped at him. "I beg your pardon? You're just going to march out there and have a good time? You don't think that, I don't know, being the Pharaoh won't complicate that?"

"Wow, I didn't think of that!" He stopped abruptly, so that she banged into him, looked at her so she could see him roll his eyes, and rummaged in his bag. He pulled out a travelling cloak and handed it to her. "Here, put this on. Honestly, Sakura, it's not like everyone in Cairo knows me personally. If I'm not wearing any kohl or a crown or literal Pharaoh's clothes, no one is going to recognize me." He pulled aside the cloak he was wearing to reveal slightly dirtied merchant's clothes. "See? What Pharaoh dresses like this? Now come on, before that damn Adviser of mine catches us."

Sakura pursed her lips as Syaoran impatiently began readying her, throwing the cloak around her shoulders and clasping it. "Syaoran . . . ."

"Come on, Sakura, it will be fun. Don't you want to get out of here for a little while? Just a little while." He looked at her imploringly, a slight smile pulling his lips. "Have an adventure with me."

Her heart jumped, and she closed her eyes against his insistent gaze and sighed. "Fine, I will come with you. But I better not get into trouble for this."

Syaoran grinned and took her hand again. Her eyes went down to their interlocking fingers. "Who is going to get you in trouble? I'm the Pharaoh, for Ra's sake."

Sakura groaned, and followed him along the hallway, feeling his fingers pressing against the back of her hand. He led her into a courtyard, which carried on into a garden. He stopped there and looked around, examining the overgrown vines on the fences. Finally he stepped forward and roughly forced them aside to reveal a little handle, which he yanked open to reveal a passage. He turned and grinned.

Sakura narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you really saying you have a secret passage that you use to sneak out of the palace?"

He shrugged, the picture of innocence, and held out his hand for her to take. Sighing, she took it, and he helped her into the cramped space.

"Ugh, how far have we got to walk like this? Was this thing made for shabti sprites or what?" Sakura complained, feeling both of her shoulders as well as her head brushing the wood around them. It was completely dark.

"Relax," Syaoran said. "It widens out soon. It's made as an escape route for the royal family, if ever there was a siege or some sort." When she hesitantly shifted her weight, he pushed her along.

Soon they did get to a much wider path, where they were able to walk comfortably side by side. Sakura summoned a bit of fire to light their way, feeling a twinge of pride in herself for being able to do so on command as if it were nothing. She caught Syaoran's appreciative smile, the bright light making dimple shadows in his cheeks.

"So what's brought on this sudden desire to get out for a night on the town?" Sakura asked.

He sighed. "I think the simpler question is what isn't making me want to get out."

She glanced at him sympathetically, seeing the worry creasing his forehead, the way his head drooped slightly. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "It must be so hard for you."

His eyes flicked over to meet hers, and his head lifted. She felt his fingers clasp hers and give a squeeze, perhaps of thanks. She found she was getting quite used to having his hand in hers today.

They walked on for what Sakura thought must have been twenty minutes, and then the space closed in again, which she grumbled aloud about, and which Syaoran ignored. He went first and very slowly opened the hatch at the other end, peeking his head out cautiously. This one was overhead, as if they were in an attic, as opposed to the upright garden door they'd entered through. Syaoran pulled himself up and climbed out, and Sakura followed suit.

They'd emerged into a small orchard, with trees of some kind of orangey-red fruit hanging from them and littering the grassy ground. Sakura could smell the river nearby, a fresh, cool sort of scent, and hear the bustle of a marketplace .

"Won't we be seen?" she asked nervously.

Syaoran shook his head. "I know the family that owns the orchard. They turn a blind eye to my coming and going. I always leave them some coins. Sometimes they sit and have a meal with me."

She raised her eyebrows. "Wow. And they don't brag about it?" She was surprised they didn't very well put up a sign to say that the Pharaoh was a regular visitor and had taken supper at their own table.

He shook his head. "No. They're a kind and humble couple." He glanced into the house window. "They don't appear to be home, however. No matter, let's get going." He put up his hood and indicated that she should do the same, and they both stepped out onto the street.

It made Sakura glad to see all the people bustling about in the market; it reminded her more of the home she knew in Anatolia than anything she'd seen so far in Egypt. The dust kicked up, the voices of merchants calling out, the mixing smells of all things from meats to fabrics to pottery, and the sun beating down on all of it.

"Well, you were right, then," she said to Syaoran, putting a hand on her hip. "This is a refresher from the palace."

She looked at him and saw the excitement written all over his face. "I know. Let's go." He pulled her over to a produce stand and bought two large, juicy fruits. He handed her one, and said in a hushed tone, "At the palace, my fruit is always of the best degree, always served cool. Sometimes it's nice to have an over-sweet one that's been warmed in the sun all day. There's just something about the taste."

Sakura couldn't help laughing at Syaoran's boyish grin as he dug into the fruit, shooting a wink at her as the warm juice dripped down his chin.

"How regal," she teased.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, and took another very wet bite.

They inspected several more stalls, looking like stingy customers to all as they didn't buy much; it might be difficult to explain where a bunch of commoner's items came from in their rooms. Sakura thought it was hilarious when one jewellery vendor furiously told Syaoran that if he couldn't afford his wares, don't touch them. She pressed her fingers against her smiling mouth at the irony, and glanced at Syaoran, who was already looking at her with a raised eyebrow. He put down the ring he'd picked up, and folded his hands behind his back, dramatically appraising the other merchandise.

"Ah, here's a nice one," he announced, and picked up a bracelet cuff. It was in the shape of a large bird, painted blue and gold. Gently, he took Sakura's hand and fit it around her wrist, so that the wings of the bird wrapped around it. "Perfect for my lady." She looked from the bracelet to his eyes, unable to bite down on her smile.

An exaggerated throat clearing drew their attention back to the red-faced shopkeep. "What did I just say, boy? Put that down or buy it, you mongrel."

"Of course." Syaoran's hands disappeared under his cloak and emerged again with coins. He dropped them onto the stunned merchant's table. "A pleasure doing business with you."

Giggling, the two of them walked away. Sakura swatted the Pharaoh's arm. "You didn't have to do that!"

"Do what?"

She held up the cuff. "Buy this for me to prove a point. I already get tonnes of new jewellery every time there's an event."

"This is the worst 'thank you' note I've ever received."

Sakura snorted.

"Come on, it was nothing. Now that merchant has sold his wares, and I got to buy you something," he went on.

Her face heated up and she suddenly wasn't sure where to look. She didn't know if he was looking at her. She fixed her eyes on the dirt path before them.

"It can be like a little manifestation of our sneaky day," he said, and his voice sounded softer now, nearer than before. "A secret for us to share."

Sakura struggled to swallow around the frantic hammering in her chest. Her fingers went to the bracelet and she finally moved her eyes towards him. His dancing gaze flicked over to hers.

"Fine," she relented, smiling. "Thank you."

He looked forward again. "That's more . . . ."

She waited for him to finish, but he didn't. He slowed his steps until he stopped.

"Syaoran? What is it?" she asked, stepping closer to him to avoid all the foot traffic going both ways around them. She followed his gaze to an alley wall, with a message scraped on in red clay which had dried and crusted in the day's heat. It read PHARAOH CAN'T EVEN PROTECT HIS PALACE. HOW CAN HE PROTECT US? A crude drawing of Anubis, the god of death, accompanied it. And underneath, what looked like a recent addition in kohl, the pharaoh is for show. domyouji is the real ruler now.