Page 119 of Conspirators' Kingdom

Mereruka howled with laughter.

“Gods below, was that innuendo—from you? Next, it will rain in Maat.”

“It… it doesn’t rain here?” Taisiya asked, shocked.

She was well aware it was a desert, and she knew about them in theory, but Maat had the first one she’d been intimately acquainted with. Surely it rained here sometimes, even if those times were rare?

Mereruka shook his head.

“Ever?”

“No. Never. Sandstorms, certainly, but not rain.”

“That’s unnatural.”

“Rain would be unnatural,” Mereruka snorted. “Well, outside the coastal areas, that is. Even there, it’s rare.”

Before Taisiya could reply, the procession slowed and everyone was entreated to disembark. They descended from the palanquin and into the searing brightness of the daylight. Thank the gods her charm allowed her the comfort of a familiar temperature. Taisiya suspected she might have embarrassed herself by fainting in the heat of such a day otherwise.

As they crossed the diving line between the rich black soil and the parched golden sands, they came upon a strangely humble outcropping of monoliths arranged in a circle. It was less impressive than Taisiya had expected, given the pomp of the previous journey. But as she grew closer to it, a strange feeling wormed its way into her. The cries of the crowd grew dim in her ears, replaced by a quiet as heavy as it was expectant. A weighty, ancient magic surrounded her, making her feel as small as a grain of sand and even less significant. The forgotten gods lay here.

The crowds of onlookers were a way off, forbidden from venturing past the stark, fertile boundary, and only nobles and bureaucrats remained to witness the spectacle at a respectful distance. Taisiya was not unfamiliar with the process of praying and giving tribute to the forgotten gods, but she’d never seen it on such a scale, nor been crushed by the elusive presence of the divine.

Inkaef was busy directing broad-shouldered servants to place the tribute before Khety. No one had paid much attention to the new seals. Taisiya began worrying that their little stunt would go entirely unnoticed.

She needn’t have.

Menace rolled off Khety in waves as he stormed towards the tribute. If looks could kill, Inkaef would have been torn to bloody pieces by the icy blue of the king’s glare. Itet picked up on the threat first, positioning herself to protect her unwary twin.

“Inkaef!” Khety commanded.

Inkaef looked up from his task, shock and terror evident. The courtiers in attendance held their collective breath. Inkaef approached Khety slowly, Itet following closely behind.

With unthinkable speed, Khety grabbed hold of one of Inkaef’s horns and dragged him towards the tribute. Tossing him to the hard-packed sand at his avian feet, he pointed an accusing taloned finger at an amphora. Itet protested, but Khety silenced her with a look, his white hair whipping violently as he turned his head.

“What in the hells is this?”

Betrest was closest, and even her perfect mask slipped to reveal her shock, like a golden, green-haired statue captured by a talented sculptor. Serfka and Radjedef approached next. The blue-skinned vizier covered a gasp with a hand while Radjedef blinked owlishly, like he couldn’t believe his eyes. Taisiya and Mereruka approached, her hand on his arm and lightning humming beneath her skin. They both gasped at the sight, eyeing Inkaef with practised alarm.

“I-I don’t… This can’t…” Inkaef stuttered as he trembled.

“What is the meaning of this, Inkaef?” Khety growled.

Itet rushed forward and gasped at the sight of the cartouches.

“This must be a mistake! Inkaef would never—” she began.

“Silence! Inkaef will answer for this himself.” Khety cut her off, his glare arctic.

The brown feathers of Khety’s wings were slightly raised, like the hackles of a dog, making them appear twice as large. Taisiya noted with some humour that pointed ears twitched with emotion all around. How delightful.

“I don’t know how this happened,” Inkaef pleaded.

“Is this not the mark of your official cartouche? Yet you plead ignorance and incompetence! Radjedef!”

“Yes, Your Eternal Serenity?” Radjedef appeared at Khety’s side in an instant, ever the loyal dog.

And yet Khety had never appeared less serene in the whole time she’d known him. By now, even the crowds had caught the dangerous mood brewing by the ancient circle. Jubilant cries turned to fearful murmurs.

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