Chapter Twelve
He sat sullenly behind an alabaster column, ignoring the joyous festivities happening around him. Hugging his knees, Seto hunched over to make himself as inconspicuous as possible as a small parade of courtiers wandered by, talking and laughing loudly. All drunk, he thought disgustedly. The new pharaoh apparently didn't have very good control over his wine stores.
The vicinity quieted once again, although snatches of laughter and music could be heard from the courtyard beyond. A cool breeze caressed his face. He sniffed it, mystified. It smelled of salt and the ocean. They were nowhere near a sea.
Wondering what the source of the sea breeze could be, he stood up, clutching the Millennium Rod in one hand. He had gone through the initiation ceremony that morning, with three other priests and Pharaoh Atem. The next three priests were still being brought to the palace. So far there was Shaadi Ankmenin, a temple guard from El Gîza, and Akilya and Rania Khefrek, twin daughters of a fabric merchant in El Minya. None seemed the party type; they were probably off somewhere brooding just as he was.
He followed the scent into the shadows, skirting the outer wall of the palace. Behind led to the courtyard; to his right led to the greater foyer, and before him was the path that snaked its way around more pillars and statues, all the way down to the temple complex by the river Nile.
And then in front of him came a flash, a twinkling so brief he had to wonder if it were real. And then a laugh, seeming to come from far away, yet right next to his ear, a laugh that floated and sparkled upward like a bubble, lighter than air.
He jerked backward, swatting out with his hands to grab any intruders. There were none.
Seto stepped back, startled. A girl stood ahead of him on the path, regarding him with a slight smile, her head tilting to the side. She said nothing, but stared with golden eyes like twin suns.
As abruptly as she had come, she turned and trotted off down the path, around a pillar and out of sight.
He stood there, dumbfounded for a moment, and then regaining his senses, dashed off down the path.
Atem got an unnerving surprise when he entered his bedchambers that evening. Sitting on his reclining couch was a shaggy silver wolf, regarding him regally. "Good evening, Pharaoh," it said, speaking in an elegant tone. "I am Ramla. I have come to advise you, to be at your right hand and carry out your orders, to help and to guide you, for troubled times are ahead."
Realizing this must be a messenger from the gods, Atem fell to his knees and bowed, his heart beating fast. He was in a room with a god!
"Get up." A rustle, then a soft pattering of paws as the wolf left the couch. She nuzzled him gently with her wet nose. "Do not be afraid."
Tentatively, he rose, and reached out with a shaking hand to place it on the wolf's furry head. She blinked contentedly—and licked his face. Atemu laughed and threw his arms around his new friend.
"Let's go down to the temples," he told Ramla. "I know a balcony over looking the Nile that nobody else does."
But he was wrong.
The young High Priest sped down the path, entering the temple complex. The path meandered through alleys, between buildings, and out towards a cliff. There was a jagged set of steps that allowed Seto to descend down the cliff. The steps veered sharply to the right, underneath the shoulder of the cliff. There was a small ridge, sheltered by the overhang, where he could sit comfortably.
He plopped down with a small sigh, noticing how beautiful it was. The sun painted crimson and magenta stripes on the Nile as it sank below the rim of the sky-cup. Stars were beginning to show their faces, and the moon brightened with each passing minute.
"Hello," said a quiet voice down and to his left. He jumped and looked. A small silver bird sat comfortably on the ridge beside him, wings folded at its sides and eyes half-closed in satisfaction. "Quite pretty, isn't it? So did you just discover this little balcony tonight?"
Seto noticed that the bird had luminous golden eyes. And then it clicked into place… the girl on the path…
"You led me here," he accused it.
" Even in the presence of a god, you are still prickly," the falcon pointed out.
"Humph. Would you mind letting me in on your grand design, or are you going to leave me in the dark?"
The bird almost looked as if it were smiling sweetly. "Worry not, dear Seto. I shall tell you all. Basically, I'm here to be your advisor. By the way, I'm Samira."
He looked sidelong at the little creature. "You're not from around here, are you?"
"Was that a wild guess?"
He couldn't help snorting, but quickly resumed his glaring demeanor. "Who wants to know?"
The bird shook its head. "Can't you take a joke?"
"Stop talking in questions," ordered Seto imperiously. "If you're going to be my advisor, you have to do what I say, don't you?"
"Sorry, it doesn't work like that. I'm here to help you, not to serve you. If you use me for your ends, I think you shall find you will meet your end."
"Nice speech. Now, I really need to get back to the-"
He stopped, listening intently. Voices were conversing, coming closer and closer to their hiding spot. To his surprise, it was the pharaoh Atem and a silver-eyed wolf.
Atem stared back at his cousin with equal shock. "Wh… how did you know about this place?"
"Ask that thing," he replied sullenly, jerking his thumb at the falcon.
"My name is Samira. I led him here, to talk," explained the bird. "I am to be his advisor."
Atem nodded. "And so it shall be."
They sat silently, watching the boundless seas slowly swallow the orange orb of the sun.
As the darkness folded around them, a voice whispered in the back of Seto's mind…
Kill him. Kill the Pharaoh now and take the crown for yourself.
His grip on the Millennium Rod tightened as he pondered this notion.
Kill him now! This is your chance. You are older, you have suffered. You deserve Egypt more than that runt.
A rushing impulse like a flash flood rose in his brain, drowning all common sense. He raised the Millennium Rod, his mind reaching out toward its fist of power, flicking the magic like a whip, lashing out towards his cousin…
And then a sharp pain penetrated, drilling a hole through the hazy mist that clouded his mind. His vision suddenly seemed to clear; he jerked his arm to free it of the intense pain that was being inflicted upon it.
The falcon, its beak embedded in his hand, hung off of his arm. He dropped the Rod like it was a hot coal. It landed on the face of the stone with a clatter and began to slide. It would have fallen off of t he ridge if it weren't for the falcon, who dived forward and grasped it in her talons.
Seto clenched his bleeding hand to his side, muttering something about having bad hands, and scrambled out of the rock shelter and off down the path as fast as he could go. The bird haphazardly flung herself off the cliff and caught a rising air pocket, soaring into the sky. The Millennium Rod was still carried in her claws. She flew after Seto and out of sight.
"Er… what was that about?" Atem asked nervously, looking apprehensively after his cousin.
The wolf shrugged, quite a feat for a canine. "Some people you just can't figure out."
"Seto certainly is one of them," Atem agreed. He sighed. "He seems… so troubled. I wish I could help him. But he's so cold… I don't know how."
"Shutting people out is his way of defending himself," she explained. "So he seems cold… cold as ice."
"Cold as ice," Atem muttered, looking off into the indigo waves. "Cold as ice."