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.

8. A Haunting Lullaby

A Haunting Lullaby

The rest of the day passed without much incident. I did some more reconnaissance around the palace, making sure to stay near places I would have an excuse if someone caught me there. For instance, I did not wander to the forbidden hallway. I didn't know how I would persuade the guards to let me pass, it had little to do with my mission, and I definitely did not want to meet the demonic presence haunting the taboo nursery again.

I also stayed away from the combat arena. I knew that Lady Naunet was most likely correct about the possibility of injuring myself worse if I participated in sparring today. I couldn't afford that risk so early in the contest.

Instead, I found myself in the palace library, secluded in the corner, watching trainees go in and out with selected scrolls to read as part of their preparation for the first contest. I had cloaked myself in the Duat, not wanting to talk to anyone.

I was surprised to see Maahad enter with a scroll in his hand and spread the scroll out on a nearby table.

"Now, let's see if I can try to get this right," he said to himself. "How did he do it?" He paced back and forth, before closing his eyes, lifting his staff, and whispering "Duat, hide me."

The surprise of seeing my own spell being used by another person nearly made me break my illusion. Instead, I watched as Maahad's staff flickered, and his outline started to fade. However, he still remained translucent enough that people who hadn't witnessed him cast the spell shot him confused glances, not sure what he was doing and clearly still able to see him.

"Good theory," I finally said. "But you still need much more practice." I stood up, letting the illusion drop, causing Maahad to jump.

"Ack! Gods bless, Kay, are you doing that on purpose?!"

"Everyone was being loud and I wanted to be by myself," I replied as an explanation, sitting down at the table.

Maahad huffed. "Ra and Hathor, I am honestly considering putting a bell on you," he said.

Hoping to change the subject and take his mind off that idea (having a bell attached to me would severely impede my mission), I asked, "Why are you trying to teach yourself that cloaking spell I showed you last night?"

"I… thought it would be helpful in the arena. I've never seen a spell like it, and I thought that meant it would catch people off guard…" He scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. "How did you come up with such a spell, anyway? Did you craft it yourself?"

"My mother taught it to me," I said, deciding to be honest. "She was the one who crafted it. In my life I've encountered no one else who knows it but her."

"Your mother must be a powerful mage, then, Kay!" Maahad replied. "It takes years to build from scratch an entirely new spell, even if it has the most basic function in the world! One as complex as that, even with the triggers it has to break? Nothing short of incredible!"

I forced myself to nod, wondering who this person was and where the quiet, studious mage had disappeared to.

"It isn't… stable. Not entirely. As you brought up, there are many triggers that can cause it to fail."

"No spell is perfect; every single one has its weaknesses and breaking triggers. To write a spell without those flaws is simply impossible." Maahad smiled and put his arm around my shoulder. "That your mother managed to craft a spell on her own without the aid of studied magicians - and that you can use it so effortlessly…" His gaze turned pleading.
"Can you teach me?"

"Huh?"

"Please, teach me how to perform that spell. And how to fight," Maahad requested with a deep bow.

"I… well…" I stammered, not used to being bowed to like that by someone of my age. "Why do you need to learn how to fight?"

Maahad lowered his head. "I have been trained in all magic arts since I was small. Physical combat is another matter. I told you before I am not fond of fighting. Part of it is that I'm not very good at it. I hoped, by coming to this tournament, I could learn how to fight more effectively."

"That is certainly one means of training," I replied. "However, you said before that you intended to find an ally who could handle physical threats whilst you and your ka cast spells to give support from the back."

"That would be nice, but so far no one has seemed interested. And if I have to fight alone in one of the contests, I need to have mastered at least the basics."

"I suppose," I replied.

"So can you teach me?"

"Er…"

Maahad fell on his knees, touching his face to the ground pleadingly. "I beg of you, Kay! If you want something in return, I can offer my alliance in the contest! A-and if you don't want that, I can secure you a boon from my family's house; anything you ask!"

"Stand up, Maahad, there's no need to kneel before me," I insisted. I bit my lip - Mother would definitely disapprove of what I was about to do - then added. "I will train you. But, in return…"

"Oh, yes, anything!"

"-In return, I want to be taught more magic."

Maahad blinked. "I suppose that's fair." He bowed to me again. "Thank you, Kay."

"Why are you thanking me?"

"You informed me previously that you aren't fond of working with others. I'm glad that you're beginning to change your mind, at least for my sake." He picked up his scroll filled with observations about Mother's spell and rolled it up. "If it reassures you, I won't be showing people the observations I made about that spell. I assume you wanted to keep it a secret."

I slowly forced myself to nod.

"Right. Tomorrow, then? There's only two days left until the first contest." He looked guilty. "But I forgot, your ankle injury, from this morning…"

Maahad's eyes widened in alarm for some reason as I took out my knife and began polishing it with the hem of my cloak. I had put the cloak on after visiting the healer mainly because I didn't want other competitors to notice the bandaged poultices on my arm and face and take them as signs of weakness, that I'd been beaten, but kept it on because having the hood up, especially as I had laid down, restless in bed after the events of the morning, made my room feel less dauntingly large.

I felt safer with it on, to put it simply.

"The healer only said I had to stay off it to be safe, since it didn't look badly hurt, just strained. It's not going to stop me from participating in the contest - no one's said anything to imply that anyway - so I don't see why it should keep me from training you," I said.

I looked up from my knife (fighting not to drop it in alarm as I saw a flash of red across the surface) and then it registered.

"You weren't at the combat arena this morning. How did you know I'd injured myself training?"

"Mana told me. She said you and Seth got into a sparring match with undulled weapons."

"He challenged me first," I defended myself. "And he didn't tell me about the order to use sparring swords. All of my training happened with real, metal weapons."

Maahad gave me a worried look. "Just who raised you? A party of bandits?"

"No. My mother," I replied in confusion.

"I was - I didn't mean - the question was rhetorical…" Maahad trailed off, looking somewhat exasperated. "Anyway, I'm just warning you to stay clear of Seth. He strikes me as a ruthless opponent - as ambitious and untameable as his namesake god - and even securing him as an ally will be difficult, if not impossible." He put the scroll of his notes back in his bag and picked up his staff. "Unless, of course, you do it through Kisara - which, in that case, gods bless you for that, she's an army unto herself-"

"Hello, boys. What are you talking about?"

Maahad yelped at the sight of Kisara walking up to us, a stack of scrolls in her arms.

"K-Kisara," Maahad began, coughing awkwardly. "What are you doing here?"

"Studying. Same as you two, I'm guessing?" Kisara replied, gesturing to the scrolls. "By the way, are you allowed to take scrolls from the library? I wanted to bring some of these back to Seth for him to look at. He's in his room recuperating, though to hear him talk you'd think he was on house arrest." She sighed.

"Isn't it… a little drastic, though? Kay was injured in their fight as well, and he's up and about just fine…" Maahad asked.

"Well, I know Seth, and unless he's locked in his room he's going to completely ignore Lady Naunet's orders and pick another fight with somebody. If not Kay, then some other poor competitor who happens to look at him crosswise."

"I don't know if you're allowed to take reading materials from the library. They belong to the Pharaoh, not me," I interrupted.

For some reason, Kisara laughed. "You're funny, Kay. But I wouldn't go around being that flippant on a regular basis. It's impossible to tell the people who can take a joke and those who can't, and around here making light of the latter category can get you thrown in the dungeons."

"I have talked to the servants and they say it's permitted if it's for the contest's sake - and to give them back when you're finished," Maahad said in answer to Kisara's question.

I had caught a glimpse of some of the scrolls, and a few of them didn't seem to be magic or combat theory, but rather, recent histories and records of the palace's rooms. "Those don't look contest related."

Kisara jumped and tried to stuff them into her bag. "Kay!" As she pushed on the cap of a stubborn one, trying to get it wedged inside, she hissed, "Not so loud; people'll hear you!"

"What are they for?" I asked.

"Um…" She huffed. "I was wondering if one of them said anything about the old nursery."

"But you said-"

"I know what I said," Kisara said sharply. "I'm not planning on doing any real investigating, I was just curious. And there are some other architectural records in here that might be interesting - maps of the palace and stories about what each room was for and when it was built… It's interesting, okay? I'm not about to go and exorcize the place myself. I'm just curious."

"...Right," Maahad said nervously. "Again, I don't know if it's strictly allowed, but none of the servants I've talked to have forbidden it. They are the Pharaoh's property, so I wouldn't go about taking them off the palace grounds, but if they're just going back to your and Seth's rooms…"

"Oh, good," Kisara said in relief. "After what happened this morning, Lord Aknadin's kind of on the warpath and I don't want to give him any reason to eliminate me from the contest."

"What's got Aknadin so upset?" Maahad asked.

"Well, you already know he's taken a liking to Seth, right?"

"Yes," I said.

"Um… Seth getting into a fight this morning made him really angry; mainly because he didn't want his favorite contestant getting kicked out. Kay, you were there, you remember how hard he came down on you for apparently starting it."

"I do," I said with a nod.

"It was because he saw it as a personal insult that a fight with you nearly risked Seth getting thrown out. If Lord Pharaoh had decided not to let the matter go, Seth would be in big trouble for breaking the 'no maiming' rule."

"I was a participant just as much as Seth," I replied.

"You didn't know that it was expected of you to use the wooden swords instead of real ones," Maahad pointed out. "You said it yourself."

"But Seth did know," Kisara replied. "I'd like to yell at him for that, but I don't want him thrown out of the contest. He has a lot invested in it."

"Why is Seth in the contest? He implied it was for the glory of joining the nobility," I asked.

Kisara looked torn. "It's not my place to tell you that. I'm sorry." She gave a small nod. "I have to take these to him." With that, she hurried off.

"She's hiding something," I said immediately.

"It's also none of our business. Why he's entering the contest isn't going to affect us, is it?"

"...Probably not," I replied.

Maahad shook his head. "Never mind her. I was about to ask if you thought you'd be recovered enough to train beginning tomorrow."

"Most likely. I will have to revisit Lady Naunet in order to get the poultices changed out on my arm and face for the next few days, but since she didn't feel any breaks in my foot, I shouldn't have to worry about that."

"Good. I didn't want to push you if you weren't able."

Why was everyone so concerned about me hurting myself? If I was completely honest with myself, Mother only seemed to worry about my safety because a particularly debilitating injury would threaten my mission. Why did these strangers - who knew nothing about what I needed to do - care about my health?

Such a question would stay with me the entire day, as Berenike stopped me in the hall and asked me if I had gone to Lady Naunet and warned me not to push myself further than I was able. As Mana practically jumped on me, apologizing for her irritation with me earlier - which I still didn't know the justification of - expressing how glad she was I hadn't gotten disqualified, and taking a look at the bandaged wounds on my face and arm, asking if they hurt.

"My father knows a really good healing spell!" she said. "Makes bad scratches like that go away in minutes!" She wilted. "He taught me how to do it, but I'm not very good at it yet. I might end up making it worse." She bowed her head in guilt. "I'm so sorry, Kay…"

"Neither of them are very deep and Lady Naunet has looked them over already," I tried to reassure her. "She didn't seem worried; there's no reason for you to be."

Mana raised her eyebrow before forcing a smile. "O-Okay."

As soon as she had left, Seth - who had been released from the confinement Kisara had sentenced him to after vowing not to get into a fight, a vow that I guessed it was only a matter of time until he broke - smirked at me. "Somebody's got an admirer," he drawled.

"What are you talking about?"

Seth simply rolled his eyes. "You know what, I'll let you figure that out, jackal boy," he said before walking away.

Come evening, the buzz about mine and Seth's disastrous sword fight still hadn't died down, and neither had the attention I received for it - from everyone from fellow contestants walking up to me, touching the bandages on my arm, or more uncomfortably, on my face and asking if my wounds hurt, to palace servants asking me how I was recovering, offering me favors, and asking that I stay off my ankle as much as possible.

It was exhausting, all the forced conversations and unneeded attention, and part of me considered secluding myself in a corner and slipping into the Duat, just to achieve some kind of solitude where I could plan the next steps of my mission. It had been a close call today, and if Kisara was right that Lord Aknadin had a grudge against me, I needed to figure out a way to avoid incurring his wrath any further.

Plus, given what specific Item he bore, the chances were too high that Aknadin could determine my true intentions - unless of course, he already had and that was the source of his grudge.

I shut myself into my room as soon as I could conceivably excuse myself, sitting down on my bed and taking a deep breath to calm my nerves. Today had been, in a word, exhausting. Waking up at dawn to train with Mana, her staff reacting to our touch, my sword fight with Seth, nearly being barred from the contest, now everyone pestering me - and that wasn't even getting into the strange dream I'd had last night! The mysterious temple, the ghostly lioness who claimed Sekhmet herself as her patron, and being allowed to see my magic, in its true, combined glory… It was quite a bit to think about.

What did it mean, that Mana's magic reacted with mine? Why did my magic change shape in my dream?

The lioness said I was almost ready to meet my ka. That that vital meeting would happen soon, even. What had kept me from being ready before? Why was I ready now, and not all the other times I tried? How soon was soon?

Finally I stood up. Even the quiet of my room wasn't enough to calm my thoughts.

I needed air. I needed to burn off some of my nerves somehow.

Because a nervous assassin was one that made mistakes. And an assassin who made mistakes was a dead assassin.

I pulled up my cloak hood and ensured my knife was secured to my belt. I fastened the chain of my amethyst stone around my neck - not because I knew I would need it for what I was about to do but because I knew it wasn't likely I would be coming back to my room to get it between now and dinner - and then stepped through the curtain to my room's balcony. I looked around - making sure the Pharaoh's private tower was empty this time - and then climbed up the brick wall to the roof above my balcony.

There. Outside of the palace walls, oppressive reminders I was on enemy ground, I could breathe again. It was just me, the darkness, and my memories of my training.

At first I had no real plan. I just needed to get out of the palace, if only for a little while.

Then the old nursery came to mind.

Perhaps there was a way in from the outside. It wasn't likely, but it was an idea worth pursuing. I carefully peeked up over the top of the roof and tried to orient myself with the stars and moon spinning overhead.

The old nursery was on the east side of the palace, wasn't it?

Slowly, I crept over the roof, freezing each time torches shone below me. I couldn't afford to get caught, not now.

Something happened as I crossed over the training courtyard to the east side of the palace. Some instinct told me exactly where to put my feet so tiles would not creak and clatter under my weight, a vision flashed before my eyes of someone climbing these silent, moonlit rooftops, just like this, and in my head, I heard a soft voice.

It was both masculine and feminine, a blend of low and high pitch that reverberated through my head as if shouting in a vast empty temple, but was as quiet and soft as a whisper.

"This way, my child."

Slowly, I changed my direction, looking reluctantly back at the east side where I knew the old nursery was. In contrast, this took me back the way I had come and then north, in a direction I had yet to fully explore.

Something about this voice compelled me to follow, though. Even if it directly contradicted what I had set out to do.

Was it my ka, guiding me?

I continued the rest of the way to the northwest side of the palace, peeking into windows and trying to see what part of the castle I was in.

More rooms for trainees were what mainly met my gaze. I did see a window into the guards' quarters, which I avoided just to be safe.

But nothing of interest - to me or to my mission.

Ka, what were you trying to show me? Why did you lead me here?

Only a more insistent, "This way," answered.

Across the rooftop, picking my way up and down the wall, skirting the edge of one of the watchtowers, the voice followed me.

"Keep going," it whispered encouragingly as I stopped, more than a little tempted to turn right back around and find the old nursery as I had intended to do with my evening.

And then, as I crept over to a rather impressive-sized balcony (more than double the size of my own) and prepared to leap down onto it, I heard the voices.

"Lord Pharaoh, I'm simply curious as to why you're choosing a favorite among the contestants."

"My reasons are my own, Aknadin, and what I am doing for Kay is little different from the favor you have shown young Seth."

I froze as I heard the Pharaoh's voice and realized where I was: outside the Pharaoh's own bedchamber.

The one place I had sworn to myself not to go before necessity required it, as it would look much, much too suspicious to be caught there.

Whoever this voice was, it had led me straight into a trap.

As much as my heart pounded, I leaned a little closer, trying to listen to what Pharaoh Aknamkanon and Lord Aknadin were talking about, a matter private enough to warrant them being shut up in Pharaoh Aknamkanon's own chambers rather than meeting with the rest of the Court in the council room.

And why - it seemed - that it was about me.

"How I treat the contestants has little to do with this, brother. I am intending to choose an apprentice, after all, and I would prefer it if I liked the brat before imparting my knowledge of the mysteries of the Millennium Eye to them. Every one of us has one or two favorites. You, on the other hand, are not to train an apprentice. You are our impartial judge, my lord. Choosing a favorite directly undermines your role in this contest, my lord."

"I am not choosing him as an apprentice, Aknadin," Pharaoh Aknamkanon said coolly. "Young Kay has simply… caught my interest is all. I must ask, why do you seem to hate the boy so much?"

"Who said anything about hatred, brother? That boy's carelessness nearly got Seth removed from the contest, and if he continues to act in such a reckless manner more participants may be in danger!"

"Kay's actions today were an honest mistake, as everyone who witnessed the duel said. There is no evidence that suggests Kay is a danger to anyone," Pharaoh Aknamkanon said calmly.

So oblivious, I thought to myself, feeling myself relax just a bit.

"I have seen-" Aknadin began, only to cut himself off.

"Aknadin? What's wrong?" the Pharaoh asked his brother.

"Remember you are in danger, brother. The prophecy-"

"Prophecies only hold as much weight as the listener gives them, brother. You'll find that some poor soul, through trying to avoid his fate, ends up bringing it to pass."

"Aren't you worried, Pharaoh? With no heir to claim your position, if you fall, Egypt falls with you."

"I am aware, Aknadin," Pharaoh Aknamkanon said. "But I am not about to barricade myself in this room in fear. I am not dead yet, so I must continue to lead this country for as long as I can. Anyway, I have nothing to fear from any of our young friends, do I?"

"Youth does not equal innocence," Aknadin replied flatly. "But very well. I shall leave you for now. I must prepare for the feast."

I froze as Aknadin left the room with a click as the door latched, the curtain to the balcony parted, and the Pharaoh stepped into view.

Duat, hide me, I chanted in my head, dropping down from the roof and pressing myself as close to the wall next to the balcony as I could.

Thankfully, I had cast the spell just in time; the Pharaoh didn't seem to see me.

The old man looked up at the sky, his expression somber.

"Khepri…" he whispered.

Huh? His wife?

Mother told me Pharaoh Aknamkanon had been married, and what I had learned about the old nursery was proof the First Queen was long-dead. Kisara said the tales insinuated he loved her so much that he killed the son who had inadvertently killed her in grief-stricken rage.

But that couldn't possibly be true, right? If he was willing to betray her faith by forcing himself on Mother.

So why was he out here on his balcony, whispering her name like a prayer to the starry sky?

"Khepri, are you here somehow? I have felt your presence drawing closer ever since this contest began; do you have a message for me?"

Only silence answered, of course. I leaned forward, debating whether I should leave or perhaps stay to hear more.

Aknamkanon leaned on the balcony railing, the Millennium Pendant swinging slightly on its woven rope around his neck.

Then, all of a sudden, the mysterious Item began to glow, its all-knowing eye staring at me intently. Aknamkanon's hand shot to it, and the old Pharaoh shut his eyes: he was exercising the Item's power to locate the source of whatever it had sensed.

In this case, me.

I pulled back, panic shooting through me as Aknamkanon, still gripping the rope of the Millennium Pendant, looked around.

"Show yourself, whoever you are," he said calmly. "You cannot hide from my Millennium Pendant."

Every instinct in my body told me to run right then, simply climb back up to the roof and disappear.

But I forced myself to breathe. Running blindly was guaranteed to blow my cover. And if Pharaoh Aknamkanon recognized me up on these rooftops running away from his bedchamber, he would no doubt be suspicious of me. He seemed to trust me for now. I had to cultivate that trust.

Aknamkanon then turned, holding out his hand. The Millennium Pendant glowed brighter.

"Reveal," he chanted, and I immediately felt the cool touch of the Duat retract like a hand being pulled back from a hot flame. I was now visible, plainly, hidden against the wall of the Pharaoh's own bedroom balcony. With my hood drawn over my head to hide my face and my knife gleaming at my hip, I couldn't have looked more guilty.

Aknamkanon's eyes narrowed.

"Identify yourself," he ordered. "Before I summon the guards."

Slowly, reluctantly, I clambered across the wall and dropped in a practiced landing on the balcony rail.

I dipped my head. "Lord Pharaoh," I greeted, trying to keep my voice emotionless.

"Kay," Aknamkanon sighed, visibly relaxing. "Ra and Hathor, you gave me a fright. I thought you were an intruder."

"I'm sorry, Lord Pharaoh," I said, pulling my hood back. "I just needed to get away from the crowd for a bit."

"You have made quite a name for yourself today," Aknamkanon replied. "And it's no trouble, I was actually trying to get some fresh air myself."

"Alone?"

Aknamkanon chuckled. "Not entirely. I nearly always have guards posted outside my chambers if I am there by myself, at my dear twin's insistence. Out here, at night, would be an opportune time for an assassin to strike."

I climbed down from the rail. "Aren't you beloved by nearly all citizens of this country?"

"Even a beloved king is never completely safe from being targeted, young Kay," Aknamkanon replied. "That was a masterfully clever spell, by the way."

"It was only a trick," I said modestly. "I didn't want anyone to see me and get the wrong idea."

"It's a very easy thing to get the wrong idea about," Aknamkanon said with amusement, his gaze falling on my knife.

I sat down on the railing, pulled out my knife, and started fidgeting with it.

Aknamkanon's gaze flickered with confusion and some anxiety.

"You too, then?" I asked him.

"What do you mean?" the Pharaoh asked, raising an eyebrow.

"...Ever since I arrived here everyone has acted surprised when they saw I carried a weapon. Not just when Aknadin got angry with me for sparring with real swords - this morning Mana woke me for training and said it was strange I slept with my knife beside me. In my village, nearly everyone did that, to fend off wild animals and thieves."

"Well, thankfully for many of us, it's not as imperative that everyone always have a weapon on hand here at the palace. I'm afraid it might scare them to see a stranger who is almost constantly armed." His gaze softened. "Although, I understand it might be an old habit by now."

"It has to be," I replied.

"It is a fine blade," Aknamkanon commented, looking at my knife. "Abasi's work?"

"How did you know?"

"He worked in the Great City for a time. Many nobles here use his weapons. But he was always a reclusive man. I wasn't surprised when he left the City to set up trade elsewhere." Aknamkanon smiled. "The sword I gave you yesterday was among his finest."

"Abasi forged my sword?" I asked.

Aknamkanon nodded. "As a personal commission from me. I meant it to be a gift for someone very dear to my heart. I could think of no one better to ask than Abasi to make it."

"...Who was the sword originally for?" I asked.

Aknamkanon raised an eyebrow. "I have said this before, but you are very blunt, young Kay."

"...I meant no offense-"

"And I am not offended. In a place built on decorum and pretense, one needs a person who speaks his mind, else they're liable to go mad." His expression sobered. "The original recipient of this sword is no longer in this world. I have held onto the blade in hopes I could find someone worthy of taking it. That person, I have found, is you."

"...But Lord Pharaoh, I am merely a peasant boy. Aren't there others of higher station than me, more worthy of possessing such a gift?"

"Of noble station? Young Kay, I would much rather give this blade to someone with a noble heart than anyone of noble blood. The lords and kings you meet, in the end, are merely men. Nothing about their blood makes them better than you - or anyone. It is your character that should determine your worthiness to hold that sword. And I can think of no nobler person to give it to."

"Really?" I asked. Surely he could sense my intentions! Did he really trust me this much when he had only scarcely met me?

"Of course!" Aknamkanon gently laid a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it. "You are a good man, Kay, noble blood or not. I trust you to use that sword well."

"I will, Lord Pharaoh," I said with another bow.

"Now, you should most likely go back inside. Dinner will be soon, and I suspect you don't want to miss that," Aknamkanon said with a conspiratorial wink. "Best keep this conversation between the two of us. My brother isn't very fond of you at the moment, I'm afraid."

"Yes, Lord Pharaoh."

"Good. I wish you a good evening."

"Same to you."

As soon as Aknamkanon turned and exited the balcony, I climbed back onto the roof, pulling my hood back up and hyperventilating.

Of all the places to get caught… I'm lucky he doesn't seem to find me suspicious. But this confirms I'll have to stay out of Aknadin's way for a while.

Speaking of Aknadin, what did he mean by a prophecy? Something terrible, definitely, and it concerned the Pharaoh, given how anxious the Eye-bearer had seemed about it.

I had to find out more. Somehow.

I spent dinner lost in thought, simply absorbing the chatter of Maahad, Mana, Seth, and Kisara, who were - by some coincidence - seated by me again. Mana, in particular, was right across from me, forcing me to keep my gaze trained on my plate so I couldn't gape shamelessly at her face. While she wasn't as finely dressed as yesterday, she still looked strangely mesmerizing in the torchlit dining hall.

My eyes shifted towards Aknamkanon, who was taking a long draught from his wine goblet. As soon as he put it down, his eyes fell on me and he winked again.

Maybe it wasn't a coincidence after all I had been seated by Mana.

I didn't say much, and after asking how my training was going and how I was recovering, the others seemed to catch on - finally - that I wasn't in the mood to talk. Seth was similarly quiet, although it was probably due to his annoyance at being on house arrest imposed by Kisara to keep him from worsening his injuries. He had, just as I had predicted, gotten into another fight.

"Thankfully, all it was was some yelling and a slap and his injuries look no worse," Kisara had said.

Maahad talked about the scrolls he had been reading that day, carefully making no mention of the one he had written about Mother's spell, which I was grateful for.

Mana, true to form, meandered all over the place with her conversation, jumping from the delicious food to the spells she had practiced that day to how beautiful the garden was and then back to the food, barely stopping to take a breath.

Kisara, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, said, "I found something very interesting about the nursery today."

"I wish you would just drop that, like you, very specifically, told us to," Seth grumbled.

"I said not to try to fix the problem on our own in a way that could get us into trouble. I was just reading about it."

"What did you learn?" I asked.

"I learned it's a recent addition to the palace. I mean, recent in comparison to the rest of the rooms. At least fifteen years old, because the scroll I looked at said it was a wedding gift from Lord Pharaoh to Her Majesty the First Queen. One of many he gave her."

"How ironic," Seth said softly. "Not only did she die delivering Egypt's crown prince, it was in the very same room the Pharaoh had presented to her as a wedding gift."

"Seth, shut up," Kisara scolded him.

The rest of dinner proceeded without much incident, but I still had much to think about.

What was that prophecy?

And what secret was that old nursery hiding?

That night, I had trouble falling asleep. Tossing and turning, I felt anxious and uncomfortable no matter which position I took. Finally, I stood, accepting I wasn't going to get to sleep tonight and deciding to use the cover of darkness for more investigation.

I donned my cloak over my sleeping tunic, wanting the small amount of anonymity it provided. Then, taking a breath to calm my nerves, I slipped out of my room.

At first I had no real plan. Just… looking for anything useful.

Should I try…?

No. The last time I approached that forbidden hallway I had barely escaped, and not unscathed. It would be just plain foolish to try again. Besides, the double guard around the place was undoubtedly still up, so unless I wanted to try another venture onto the roof, I had no way to get near it undetected.

It was as I was passing through the combat arena to cross to the other side of the palace that I first heard it.

A faint sound, barely audible on the wind. Confused and curious, I changed my direction slightly to follow the sound.

As I got closer, I could more clearly make out that it sounded like… someone crying.

"Hello?" I asked, my voice ringing out hollow and uncertain as I peered down a dark hallway I had only tentatively explored, mainly because it was unnervingly close to the Pharaoh's own quarters on one side and the forbidden nursery on the other.

The crying broke off into hiccups at the sound of my voice. These soft hiccups pierced through the darkness for several minutes, each sounding like a gold piece being dropped onto the stone floor, before the person started quietly sobbing again.

"Who's there?" I called again into the darkness, trying to think of who the person might be. The voice sounded female, but that didn't narrow the search down much.

A maid who had yet to return to her quarters? Another trainee who had gotten lost?

A sniffle cut through the darkness, then a fearful yelp.

"D-Don't be afraid," I said uncertainly. Remembering what the Pharaoh had said about people distrusting me because I was armed, I carefully stowed away my dagger.

"See?" I whispered, my voice gentle like someone trying to calm a wild animal. "I'm not going to hurt you. Just… Please, tell me who you are and what's wrong."

The sobbing continued, at a slightly higher volume. With nothing else coming to mind, I slowly walked into the dark hallway, feeling a heavy, oppressive sensation, as if being watched.

Then, I turned around a corner and saw a female figure sitting hunched over against the wall, sobbing into her knees. She was dressed in the finest linen and cotton dress I had ever seen, sewn with soft green jasper stones around the waist and neckline: lily pads floating in an ivory-colored sea. Black obsidian eyes set into golden armbands peered at me in the dark. A crown - a simple gold circlet inlaid with jasper like her dress - rested in her hair, which was a deep scarlet, touched with gold streaks, and fell in a wild lion's mane down her back.

"E-Excuse me?" I called uncertainly into the darkness.

The sound of my voice made the person jerk her head up, revealing a lovely young face - a woman in her second decade at the absolute most, perhaps even younger. Her tear-filled eyes, the same flashy violet as the amethyst stone in my little bag back in my room, however, were ancient. Ageless. Strangely tired.

Something seemed… strange about her, something I couldn't put my finger on. It was only when I drew closer and looked harder that I realized I could see straight through her hunched body to the wall on her other side.

A ghost.

My first instinct was to run. Spirits were far beyond my level of expertise, and even the supposedly friendly and human ones could be dangerous.

But… something about her face drew me to her. She seemed… eerily familiar, as if I had met her in a forgotten dream.

So, in spite of myself, I slowly approached her and knelt beside her.

"Why are you crying?" I asked her softly.

She looked up at me, then managed a small smile through her tears.

Why is she happy… to see me?

On some instinct, I sat down next to her, feeling her arms, which felt strangely chilled but very solid, wrap around my body in a firm embrace.

I froze; Mother had only hugged me before a few times, and I wasn't used to the vulnerability inherent in the gesture.

Then, almost instantly, a warm feeling washed over me. I felt protected. Safe. It was almost on instinct that I leaned up against her like a wobbly newborn calf, my head resting on her shoulder.

She was crying again, tears of joy this time, which fell onto my head like rain. I was being cradled across her lap now, almost like a baby, my head resting on the crook of her arm as she gently stroked my hair.

She began to sing, a lullaby I had never heard before, but one that touched the back of my mind in the same way her face had, as if I had heard it once, long ago. The quiet, half-whispered song, about a lioness bidding goodbye to her cub before a long hunt, hung in the air around me, the words taking me on a journey. For just an instant, I wasn't Kinslayer, the assassin seeking justice.

I was simply a lion cub, sleeping under the watchful eye of a lion pride, the mysterious ghost my lioness mother, giving me a final kiss goodbye before leaving with the other lion wives to find meat.

My eyes slid closed, and I drifted off to sleep.