Kinslayer

by ADHDAbsol273

Kinslayer, the illegitimate son of Aknamkanon, has waited fifteen years for his revenge. His mother, a maid whom Aknamkanon forced himself upon, has trained him in every assassin's art imaginable. But when he infiltrates a contest hosted by the Pharaoh, he is confronted with a royal court far friendlier than he anticipated and ghosts stirred up by his very presence.

3. The Acolytes

The Acolytes

Once entering the Great City, I quickly became lost in the crowd of people.

Merchants looking to barter and sell.

Soldiers coming to train.

Blacksmiths working their trade.

Children playing in the streets.

Foreign travelers hoping for even a glimpse of the Morning and the Evening Star himself - the Pharaoh.

Young teenagers, like myself, most likely here for the contest.

Never in my life had I seen so many people, and I couldn't help but look around anxiously.

Soon I saw what had to be the main palace, beautifully decorated, rising up above the other buildings like a mountain. Gathered in front of it was a crowd of people, all my age or slightly older or younger. The only adults in the congregation were clearly parents, bidding goodbye to their offspring before they entered into the Pharaoh's Court.

I quietly slipped into the crowd of people, trying not to attract attention.

My eyes darted from one face to another, gauging, planning. All of these people were rivals, obstacles, and I needed to know how to beat them.

That boy stutters when he talks; he probably will be bad with incantations.

That girl is shaking; she's nervous, she'll be easy to intimidate.

This girl only seems to know flashy spells, not anything useful in combat.

This boy looks like a tough opponent. I'll have to keep up my training.

I was so busy pinpointing strengths and weaknesses that I wasn't looking at where I was walking.

"Oof! Watch it!"

The man I crashed into did a double take when he saw me.

"Oh! Sorry!" I bowed and turned to go.

"Wait," the man said. He grabbed my shoulder and searched my eyes.

"Oh," he said, his face falling.

"What?"

"I apologize. I mistook you for someone else," he said.

He let me go, and I rubbed my shoulder, surprised by the strength of his grip.

Slowly I walked away, secluding myself in a dark corner.

"Duat, hide me," I incanted. I felt the cool, oily embrace of the Duat close around me. The Duat was an in-between place, the realm where one traveled in dreams. However, if one knew how, one could enter into it even when awake, as I had just done. While at first glance to my eyes I looked no different, I knew that, unless someone was actively looking for me, or I chose to exit the Duat, I would be completely invisible.

I stopped and caught my breath. If someone who remembered my mother's days at the palace recognized my resemblance to her, who was to say that they wouldn't suspect me? I needed to avoid attention like that man had given me. For now, I would stay hidden here.

Until… well, until I learned what I was going to do next.

It soon became difficult for me to stay still and maintain my illusion, especially as more people crowded in front of the palace.

I edged away as a boy about my age walked over to stand beside me. Even though I knew my spell would hold, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of panic when he looked through me.

Then, I saw a man stand up on the steps of the palace and begin to speak.

"Young people of this great kingdom! I welcome you on my Lord Pharaoh's behalf to this contest, the first of its kind! You will be brought to meet him in a moment, but, for now, let me remind you of the rules and stakes of this contest!"

I saw quite a few of the people in the crowd exchange glances.

"You have been invited to the Great City to take part in a contest to decide who shall be the apprentices and future priests in the Pharaoh's Sacred Court!"

"Get to the point already!" a boy called from the crowd. I peered around the corner of the steps and saw him - a young, tanned boy with short brown hair and unusual blue eyes.

The man silenced the speaker with a withering look, before he began speaking again.

"Of all of you gathered here, you know only six can take their place beside the priests of the Sacred Court as acolytes! If you are to be one of them, you must train hard, and compete to the best of your ability! This contest will push you to your limits! But, should you perform well, you will receive the opportunity of a lifetime!"

Everyone cheered. Many of the people brandished their staffs and raised their fists.

"Now, for the rules! Competition must take place in the ring alone. There will be no sabotage of your opponents! The rest of the time, you must swear to be civil! You are all guests of the Pharaoh, and should act as such! Are we clear!?"

"Yes," everyone in the crowd said, some more dully and unhappily than others.

"Good! Next, these competitions are not intended to be fatal! No death blows! No serious injuries! These contests are meant as a presentation of your magical talent, not as an excuse to spill blood! The contests will be supervised by a member of the court to prevent foul play!"

A rush of chattering broke out among the other competitors.

"Thirdly!" the man said, stilling the crowd with his hand. "Each contest will have slightly different rules, which are set down by the Pharaoh's Court! You will be informed of these rules just before each match. Any attempt to gain an unfair advantage by learning the type of contest and rules decided on ahead of the other competitors will be punished most severely! Understand?"

"Yes, sir," everyone chorused. I stayed quiet, altering my plan to accommodate the rules just laid down. I didn't want to break them and attract unwanted attention before the time was right.

While I didn't have to worry about being sabotaged or attacked outside the contests, that meant I couldn't do the same to my opponents. Not that I liked resorting to such an underhanded trick, but I liked the idea of that being on the table as a last resort.

The handicap of no death blows was an easy one. I only had one target: the Pharaoh. I didn't want to shed any unnecessary blood. It also meant that no one could do the same to me.

The third rule, that each contest would have different conditions and rules, was easy enough, too. Normally that would worry me, but the other players would be starting at the same level of knowledge as I had. It was a simple way of making the game fair, and I respected fairness.

Not to mention, if worse came to worst, I could work around that rule.

"Now that that is settled, I will take you to meet the Sacred Court! They will be pleased to meet all of you!"

I took a breath to calm my nerves. On the other side of those walls awaited my target. In only a few minutes, I would meet the man who fathered me by defiling my mother, then casting her out to save his own hide. My hand started twitching by my side, and I gripped my knife to calm myself. I could not let on my intentions, to anyone.

"Follow me, all!" the man said. This was it. I breathed in, and let down my illusion.

The boy standing next to me jumped out of his skin at the sight of me.

"Oh! I'm terribly sorry! I didn't see you there! By the gods, you startled me!"

I turned. "Our escort is waiting," I said.

"Oh. Yes. So it is," the boy replied, giving me an askance look.

I ignored him, focusing on the meeting that was to come on the other side of those doors. As I ascended the steps, I thought over the words in my head that I would say to gain his trust. I wondered what he looked like. Would I recognize him as soon as I saw him?

The double doors opened, and I squared my shoulders, shouldering my bag and my quiver, before I followed the other competitors inside the palace walls.

My plan was progressing perfectly. Now, all I needed was to lie low.

I reminded myself to restrain my anger at the thought of meeting that monster. I resolved to train it and channel it toward my efforts in the contest. I couldn't do anything until I had won my way into the Pharaoh's good graces.

We proceeded down a grand courtyard to another set of doors, which opened to reveal a beautifully decorated hall.

Yet another great gate, tightly shut, separated us from the Pharaoh's Court. I could see people around me fixing up their appearances - brushing dust off their clothes, smoothing their hair, and inspecting and touching up their kohl.

I carefully brushed off my clothes as well, running my fingers through my ponytail to pull out tangles, and adjusting the catch on my choker to ensure it stayed fixed around my neck.

I drew my knife, pulling a cloth out of my bag and carefully polishing it. I had cleaned it well at the oasis where I had met Mana, but I had to be sure I had removed all traces of blood.

Showing up to court with a bloodstained knife would be beyond suspicious. Besides, I often felt the need to keep my hands busy when I was anxious.

As I polished my knife, I caught a flash of movement in the reflection of the blade.

Another pair of eyes, not my own, stared back at me. In shock, I dropped my knife, letting it clatter, far too loud, to the floor.

Everyone turned and looked at me.

"Put your knife away, boy," the messenger said irritatedly.

I hurriedly sheathed my blade, my mind whirling with what I had just seen. Was it a vision? An omen?

No. I couldn't think about that now. I had to focus on the contest.

The messenger sent me another long, unhappy look, before he turned and opened the gate. "Lord Pharaoh! Priests of the great council! I present to you the prospective acolytes who have accepted our invitation!"

I followed the other competitors through the doors, hearing them shut behind me. There was no going back any longer.

For a moment, I stood there, staring in silence at the enormous throne room. Trimmed in gold and finely dyed cloth, built of alabaster stone and carved with beautifully painted murals, it was a spectacle if I had ever seen one.

At the head of the beautiful hall were seven people - six priests, sitting on slightly less ornate thrones, and, in the center, on the most splendid throne, the Pharaoh.

He was dressed in beautifully spun robes of dark indigo - one of the most expensive dyes to create - and wore an ornate collar of turquoise and gold and gold cuffs on his wrists. His robe was trimmed in yellow, also, and he wore a cream colored headdress decorated with the image of a rearing cobra. His neatly trimmed beard was slate gray with age, and his face was lined and careworn, but his eyes, pale blue, glittered with good humor.

The six priests, all men save for the woman who held the Millennium Necklace - a mere girl not much older than I was - were looking over the competitors, clearly choosing a favorite. I tried not to care about their searching eyes. An old man with spiky gray hair tamed by a blue headdress nudged the Pharaoh and whispered something to him, to which the older man chuckled.

"Ah! Karim!" he said to the man escorting us. "Quite a group you've brought to meet us, isn't it?!"

I gritted my teeth, trying to keep my face composed. There he was. The man who had been the source of all of my mother's suffering. The tyrant who had left her a destitute outcast.

My target.

"Yes, Lord. We did not know so many would be coming." To us, the guard added, "Step quickly now; line up, all of you."

All of the competitors milled around, ordering themselves into several rough lines. I slipped into the crowd, trying to disappear into the group of faces.

The Pharaoh was searching the crowd as well. His hand rested on the Millennium Pendant around his neck. The inverted pyramid gleamed.

I eyed the Millennium Items warily. I knew that several of them could sense falsehood. In particular, the Millennium Scales, clutched in the hand of one of the priests, if it sensed darkness deep enough, would kill the person on the spot.

How was I to keep my intentions hidden from them?

The Pharaoh was still looking over the crowd. He leaned over and whispered something in the ear of the same priest from earlier.

"Kneel!" the brunet boy from earlier hissed, pulling me to my knees.

I looked around to find everyone kneeling in greeting to the Pharaoh, save me. I hurriedly knelt.

Keeping my gaze downward, I resisted the urge to lift my head and look around.

"Young mages, these are they who will be judging you in the contests, and, should you prove worthy, mentor you afterward," the messenger said.

The first priest stood up - an old, wizened man wearing the gold Millennium Eye in one eye socket.

"I am Aknadin, brother to Lord Pharaoh and holder of the Item of Sight."

The second priest stood. "I am Asim, guardian of the Millennium Ring, the Item of Desire."

The third, who was quite young in comparison to the others - save the young woman - stood up next. "I am Maahes, who was mentored by Lord Aknadin, who keeps the Millennium Rod, the Item of Control."

The young woman stood up. "I am Isis, keeper of the Millennium Necklace, Item of Foresight.

The old man who had been whispering to the Pharaoh stood. "I am Siamun Muran, the Grand Vizier and keeper of the Millennium Key, the Item of Divining."

The last man stood. "I am Abraxas, the keeper of the Millennium Scales, the Item of Justice."

Finally the Pharaoh stood. "And I am Pharaoh Aknamkanon, ruler of Upper and Lower Egypt, and keeper of the Millennium Pendant, Item of Balance."

And my unknowing father. My mother's defiler.

"Rise, children," Aknamkanon said, signaling that we could stop kneeling.

All of us stood up, and I tried to look straight ahead and keep my face composed.

Aknamkanon looked over at each of us, interested. I felt a strange tingle of warmth and familiarity at the sight of his eyes, which were crinkled at the edges in the beginning of a smile.

Then his eyes fell on me.

He looked confused, a little surprised. I locked eyes with him, staring stubbornly, refusing to yield.

His gaze became more intense, and, in the end, I was forced to look away.

"Sons and daughters of Egypt!" he announced. "You are now free to intermingle with your fellow competitors, however, as Karim informed you, you must be civil with one another outside of the contests!"

"Yes, Lord Pharaoh," everyone chorused.

The rough lines we stood in dissolved into little knots of people chattering and laughing. The Pharaoh turned to talk to the old man sitting next to him, the man who had introduced himself as his brother.

I slipped away, hoping to disappear into the corner again and prepare, when I felt someone grab my shoulder.

"Master Nobody?"

I whirled around to see Mana standing there, smiling. She was holding her staff in her free hand. Her brown hair spiked up wilder than ever, but she had made a valiant effort to smooth it down.

"Aha! I knew it was you!" Mana laughed. "Who'd have thought we'd run into each other again, huh?"

"Not I," I replied, sitting down on the floor.

Mana grinned. "You're funny, you know that?" She sat down next to me - I had to ignore how my heart missed a beat - and began playing with a small whistle made from sandalwood. "So, I'm guessing you're here for the competition? Well, I don't know about you, but I'm starting to get nervous. There's so many top mages here!"

"I'm surprised there are so many," I said.

"I know!" Mana squealed. "So, who do you want to train with?"

"Hm?"

"Who do you want to train with? Do you have a favorite priest you want to mentor you?"

"I cannot set my heart on anyone in particular. It is up to them who mentors who."

"Guess so," Mana said, raising an eyebrow. She then grinned, and I felt like a dumb ox at the flash of her smiling green eyes. "I wanna have Master Maahes train me! He seems like he's nice! Or Master Siamun, he sounds like great fun! But not Master Aknadin - he's so serious and kinda mean!"

I looked around in shock. Was no one going to correct or reprimand her for that statement?

But no one seemed to be listening.

"How do you know all the priests so well?"

"Well, Father is a pretty high-ranked noble. We actually went to live in the Great City for a while!"

"So, have you met all these men before?"

"I wouldn't remember. I was only little. But Father told me all about it! So, what do you think the contests are going to be like? I hope I learned the right spells! I spent days before we left trying to contact my ka!"

"You know what yours is, then?"

"Yep! Do you know yours? What is it?"

"I thought it was taboo to reveal your ka to a stranger outside a diaha," I replied, trying to compose my voice.

"Oh! Sorry, am I being rude?" Mana asked. "It's okay, you don't have to tell me, but…" She got a sly look on her face. "Can you at least tell me your name?"

"My name isn't relevant."

"Of course it is, don't be stubborn!"

"Mana!"

A group of girls were looking at Mana expectantly. "Come on, Mana! We need to talk about how we're gonna get one of us into that court! For Men-nefer!"

"For Men-nefer!" Mana cheered. "Well, gotta run! See you later, then?"

"I suppose."

"Huh. You're quiet. Well, talk to you later!"

Mana jogged over to the group of girls and began talking to them.

Finally, quiet.

Now I could sort out the strange kaa-thump I felt in my chest whenever she flashed one of her disarming smiles at me.

This girl… she unsettled me. I couldn't put my finger on why. I had spoken with other girls before, briefly at trips to the oasis for water, and my overall impression of them was that they were silly, gossipy things, twittering like birds as they swapped rumors.

Mana was… different. Again, I couldn't place why, exactly, but she wasn't like the oasis girls.

She was wild, irrepressible, reckless, and just a bit too friendly and loud for my liking, but she was… somehow mesmerizing.

Was it her bravery? She had thrown me my knife after the lion had knocked it out of my hand, despite having no weapon or combat training herself. I couldn't deny it, she had saved my life by the oasis that day. None of the oasis girls would do that.

But… no, that wasn't it. Bravery in women was nothing special to me. No woman alive was braver than my own mother, after all.

So what made Mana so different? So special?

"Excuse me," a voice said anxiously.

I looked up to see a young man with brown hair that trailed past his shoulders and intelligent blue eyes, like the sky at night. He was dressed in a simple tunic, albeit one much more finely woven than my own, and he carried a simply carved staff in one hand and a scroll of spells, which he was in the process of trying to read as he walked, in the other. Clearly a competitor.

"Sorry to bother you," the boy said politely. "I… just wanted to talk to someone, but everyone else has already split into their own groups of friends and I didn't want to be a bother, so…" He fiddled with his staff in embarrassment. "Then I saw you sitting by yourself and thought you looked like a kind enough person, so I decided to ask if… oh, gods, this is coming out all wrong. The point is… do you mind if I talk to you?"

"No," I replied, standing up and stepping back so he could stand in the corner too.

"Thank you," the boy said.

After a moment of silence, he added, "My name is Maahad. What's yours?"

Why did everyone keep asking for my name? I supposed I should come up with a false one to identify myself with if everyone was going to ask. Kinslayer was a name that would attract too much attention of the negative kind.

"Sorry, did I offend you?" Maahad asked anxiously.

"Not at all. My name is…" I thought for a moment.

"It is…?" Maahad asked.

"Kay," I decided. "My name is Kay."

"Oh," Maahad replied, sounding curious. "Pleased to meet you, Kay."

"Pleased to meet you, too, Maahad," I replied. "Are you anxious about the contests?"

"A little. I have been reading up on all the spells I know in order to be prepared for anything the different games might entail. I worry most about them asking us to fight in a diaha. Aren't they supposed to be dangerous?"

"We were told that the Sacred Court would have rules in place to prevent any of us from being harmed." Now, the question of whether they actually would remains to be seen.

"I suppose. So, did you know you had magic before you received your invitation?"

"Yes. A prophetess in my village told me I had great potential for it, and my mother taught me a few spells."

"Oh. I knew I possessed magic potential since I was small. My father served as a priest for a time, and my mother was a prophetess." He flushed. "Sorry. I didn't mean to sound boastful."

"You weren't. Have you found your ka, then?"

"I have. But I wouldn't go around asking that if I were you. Asking about ka outside a diaha is a taboo, and some might get offended." At my expression, he added, "I don't blame you for asking. It's an old tradition at this point, a superstition that doing that allows another person to take it from you."

"Thank you for telling me. Someone else said something similar."

"Was it that girl?"

"Girl?"

"The one with the messy brown hair and the hat," Maahad elaborated. "By the way, do you know her? I saw you talking to her."

"Oh, Mana? We met briefly on our journey here. I do not know her very well."

"I see. Well, it's good to see a familiar face. But her ka is deceptively strong. She will be difficult to match with."

"Can you sense it?"

"If you work with magic long enough, you can get a feel for someone's ka. Just their relative strength and aura, mind you, nothing that could identify it."

"I see."

Maahad flushed again. "I didn't mean to imply you did not-"

"I'm not offended. You are fortunate to be so familiar with your magic."

Maahad looked relieved, before adding, "What else did Mana tell you?"

"She mostly asked. I didn't learn much from her. Except she knows what her ka is, and her father used to live in the Great City." After a moment, as an afterthought, I added, "And that she would not be pleased if selected as Aknadin's acolyte."

Maahad laughed even though I hadn't jested or said anything amusing. "I assumed as much. She and Aknadin wouldn't make a good pair, would they?"

"Who do you wish most to be your mentor?"

"Asim seems like a wise man. But it takes much strength of will to hold the Item he does, as with Maahes and Aknadin. I do not envy them."

"Why not?"

"Those three are said to be tainted to a much greater degree than the others. All of the Items deal in shadows; it is the nature of them. But those three are darker than the rest. To constantly have temptations whispered in your ear by the darkness?" Maahad shivered. "Not something I desire."

"What of the other four?"

"The Items borne by Isis, Siamun Muran, and Abraxas are the Items that, in contrast to the Rod, Ring, and Eye, seem touched by the darkness little, if at all. And the Pharaoh's Item, the Pendant, is the strongest of them, as well as equally predisposed to both light and dark."

"That makes sense," I replied. "He did call it the Item of Balance. What else can it do, besides evening out the darkness and light in the others?"

"Many, many things. I am not certain of everything it can do. I have heard of it summoning armies of monsters, reviving the dead and protecting people from harm, probing deep into a person's heart and reading their innermost intent, calling judgment down on criminals, overseeing and beginning a diaha, and finding things Lord Pharaoh wants found."

"You did say it was the most powerful of the set," I replied, my surprise not entirely acted. I covertly looked at the Pharaoh, who was looking over the children, eyes twinkling merrily. Did he know who I was, and why I was here? Had his Item shown this to him?

I looked at the Pendant glittering innocently around the Pharaoh's neck. It was an inverted pyramid, a solid ray of light turned upside down. A symbol of darkness around the neck of the ruler who should have been light incarnate, the embodiment of Horus and the Morning and the Evening Star.

It seemed all too fitting to me, given the secret I knew he hid.

"What are the abilities of the others? I heard some few of them can look into minds."

"Most of them can. The Eye can read thoughts. The Scales can read hearts and determine the number of crimes that burden it, just as Anubis's scales in the Underworld. The Key can take the holder into a person's soul chamber, allowing them to see all aspects of a person, and rearrange it however they like, putting them under their complete control. The Puzzle can sense the intent of the heart, and the Rod has complete access to the minds of the people the wielder puppets with it. Only the Necklace cannot divine the mysteries of the heart, but its gift is almost just as great."

"What is it?"

"The holder of the Millennium Necklace is given the ability to see visions of the past, as well as precognition."

"So, Isis is a prophetess?"

Mahaad chuckled. "A prophetess could only dream of seeing the future with the clarity Lady Isis does with the Millennium Necklace."

"You mentioned the Rod has the ability to control people. What triggers this effect?"

"Afraid of being brainwashed, eh?" Mahaad asked, looking somewhat amused. "From what I've read, the Rod's effect is only triggered when Maahes touches someone with the Rod with the intent to puppet them in such a way. I doubt he would want to do that to any of the contestants, but he couldn't control you as we speak, not unless he's touched you without my knowledge."

"He hasn't," I replied. "Thank you for answering my questions."

"No trouble at all. It was nice to have a chance to talk to someone, and you seem like a nice enough person. I earnestly wish you good luck in the games ahead."

"As do I. But do not forget, in these games you are my rival, too. I don't plan on not playing at my best, even for the sake of someone I know."

"I would be insulted if you did," Maahad replied.

Maahad was a difficult person to hate. As much as I knew he was to be my rival, I couldn't help but be warmed at how helpful he had been, especially for a stranger.

Suddenly, Maahad was shoved roughly to the side. The intruder was the boy who had heckled the guard earlier, his blue eyes looking twice as eerie in the midst of all the gold trappings of the throne room.

"Out of my way, scroll worm," he said sharply to Maahad. To me, he added, "So you're the new contestant who has the whole court twittering like birds in spring. I expected someone more impressive than a wild desert boy. Who raised you, a pack of jackals?"

"My mother. My father left us long ago, and we chose to stay outside the Great City and keep to ourselves. We live near a small village by an oasis."

"Do you have any idea how little that narrows it down? All the little backwater villages are next to an oasis, jackal-boy," the other boy said. Huffing, he added. "I'm Seth, and I aim to be the strongest mage Egypt has ever known!"

"I wouldn't count your hens before they're hatched, sir," Maahad replied, getting up from the ground. "The contest hasn't even begun."

Completely ignoring Maahad, the boy called Seth got right in my face.

"Listen up, jackal-boy. I aim to win this contest, and I'm not about to allow some feral mage from only the gods know where to get in my way. So either you go back to whatever backwater oasis you crawled out of, or you prepare for the beating of your life in the ring. Clear?"

"Seth!"

A surprised look crossed Seth's face, before a ghostly pale hand grabbed him by the ear and pulled him away from me.

The owner of the hand was a girl slightly younger than us, with ghostly pale skin, white hair that fell past her hips, and eyes bluer than Seth's own.

"Hello," she said shyly, her hair covering one eye. She was barefoot , her dress, while painstakingly mended, had seen better days, and she looked like she was trying to call attention away from both of those things. "I couldn't help but overhear you talking. You're Kay, right? And you're Maahad?"

"Yes," I answered at the same time as Maahad said, "I am."

"Sorry for bothering you both. I just heard a certain someone boasting and felt I should intervene."

Seth, frowning, his face red with embarrassment and anger, tried to pull away from the girl's grip. "Kisara, let go! I only wanted to get a look at that guy all the mages are talking about for having such a strong magic aura!"

"The Pharaoh allowed us to intermingle so we could get to know each other and make friends, Seth," Kisara retorted. "You certainly aren't going to do that marching up to people and threatening them on the first day!" She smiled at us. "It was nice to meet you, Kay, Maahad. Now, if you'll excuse us," she said, before pulling Seth away by the ear, muttering derisively about this being why she hoped to meet more female friends through the contest. Seth was still crimson with embarrassment, but only making the smallest protests as they both disappeared into the crowd.

"Quite the pair, aren't they?" Maahad commented.

"What do you mean?"

Maahad looked confused. "I was just pointing out how they seem to be close. The rules say nothing about making alliances, and since Seth and Kisara seem like friends, they might end up partnering together."

"Which isn't good because…?"

"Seth doesn't seem to be all talk. His ka seems decent in strength, and his magic aura is extraordinary. But it's Kisara I'm worried about."

"Why?" I asked, wondering why the delicate, shy girl so worried Maahad.

"I have never felt any ka as strong as hers. Her magic aura doesn't seem to be the strongest, but her ka… even from here I can feel the power pouring off of her. She's like a goddess, a force of nature. I don't envy anyone who makes an enemy of her."

"I see."

I couldn't sense magic the way Maahad could, but I felt an idea of what he was talking about. The whole time she had spoken to us, I had felt a sense of strength from her. It almost frightened me.

"All the same, she seems friendly enough. If you're a team player, Kay, I'd suggest allying with her. No one here has a ka her equal. Even the Pharaoh would have a hard time beating her with that amount of power."

"I'll keep that in mind. But I want my victory to be my own. I don't work well on a team."

"Suit yourself. Speaking of allies, your friend Mana is coming over here."

"Master Nobody!" Mana singsonged as she ran over to us. "Sorry I had to ditch you, but some of my girl friends from my hometown wanted me to help with their battle plan. Oh! Who's this?"

"My name is Maahad, and you must be Mana. Kay told me much about you."

Mana giggled. "All good things, I hope?" Then she looked huffy and folded her arms across her chest. "And how come you told him and that other boy and that other girl your name but not me?"

"I thought it didn't matter at the time. And you know it now, don't you?"

Mana looked up and away from me, still upset. "I'm guessing your mother neglected to give you any people skills along with your super strong fighting skills." She closed one eye, as if still trying to be angry and avoid looking at me. Then she sighed. "You obviously have no clue why I'm mad, do you?"

I shook my head in bewilderment. I had witnessed a woman's wrath before, but Mother always made it obvious why she was angry - that I hadn't trained enough or had failed her in some fashion. Why did not knowing my name - or learning it last - make Mana so angry?

"Okay, I just can't stay mad at you. It's like getting mad at a jackal puppy." She sighed and looked wistfully off in the direction of Seth and Kisara. Kisara seemed to be in the middle of scolding her friend for yet another overtly hostile greeting to another hapless participant.

"She's really pretty, isn't she?" Mana sighed.

I looked at her, confused. Yes, Kisara did attract attention with her long alabaster white hair and glittering blue eyes, but why did that upset Mana so? What set her apart from all of the other girls I had met by the oasis, who all claimed to be the beauty of their village?

"Kisara? Well, I suppose so."

Mana closed her eyes as if she couldn't believe how stupid I was. "You suppose so?"

Maahad cut in with his own opinion. "We were speaking of her, but not of her beauty, about her ka. I have never sensed one so powerful in my life."

"You can sense ka?" Mana asked. "Can you sense mine?"

"Not what it is. Just a relative power level. And yours, I assure you, is quite powerful."

"Yay!" Mana cheered.

As I quietly absorbed the conversation between Mana and Maahad, I reminded myself that I wasn't here to befriend anyone. These people were my rivals, and I had to treat them as such. I couldn't let my guard down now.

But… They seemed friendly. Friendlier than I had anticipated.

Suddenly my mission, to covertly infiltrate the contest and kill Aknamkanon without attracting attention seemed much harder than I had thought.