the shadow of the east wall and, feeling like an angry fool, called out. No answer came. I called again. Just the mocking reply of a bird in the trees some distance behind me.
What else could I do? I circled the building but there was no way in. The mud-brick crumbled under my fingers when I tried to grip it and lift myself up. I kicked the futile stones at my feet. Damn her. Enough. It was time to take my chances, forget this charade, and go home. I would charter a boat and get out of the city as fast as possible. Enough.
I returned by the same route, but as I set foot upon the path I heard something up ahead. Even the birds in the trees seemed to have quietened. A brief wind rustled through the dry heads of the barley. The hair on the back of my neck prickled. I quickly dropped down and scurried into the barley field. Before long I could make out the sound of marching feet and wheels upon rough ground. A troop of soldiers appeared and passed close by me, followed by a chariot, bumping precariously on the track, carrying two Medjay officers. They were unmistakably heading for the square fort.
Keeping low in the barley, I scurried in the opposite direction, skirting around the village. The evening light had arrived now. The village seemed deserted. Everyone must be hiding inside. When I reached the edge of the river I spotted further along the strand a military ferry roped to the trees, a few guards set about it. Before me the Great River ran ever strongly. The city’s buildings were gilded, and beyond them, in the distance, the eastern cliffs were lit bright red. How would I cross? And once I had crossed, where would I start to search for Nefertiti?
Then I noticed, paddling as if to stay still against the current, keeping almost hidden among the moving shadows near the water’s edge, another skiff. The boatman seemed to be examining the shoreline. I crouched back into the trees. There was something familiar about the outline and the movements of the figure in the boat. I peered more closely, but the figure moved in and out of view. If he was an enemy, why would he be working so hard to stay unseen, and why would he be here?
I picked up a pebble and cast it carefully in the direction of the skiff. A moment of silence, during which it seemed to me the guards’ voices lulled, and then a faint splash. I saw the figure in the boat turn quickly towards the source of the noise, and then peer into the dark fringe where I was hidden. He paddled closer, but not close enough. I threw another pebble. It landed nearer the shore. Immediately he followed the sound. Because we were on the western shore, the trees cast a long shadow across the edge of the water, even while the city was still lit up. But I believed now I recognized the shape of the figure’s head.
I waited for the guards to resume their conversation. When I heard the murmur of their voices, I ran, crouching, across the narrow strand towards the skiff. I was right: it was Khety. I jumped in behind him as quietly as possible. He did not smile, just raised his finger to his lips and allowed the skiff to slide away with the current, away from the soldiers.
When we were at a safe enough distance, we turned to each other, our minds crowded with questions. The most pressing of which I voiced.
‘Where is she?’
‘I’ll take you to her. But first I have to know what happened with Ay.’ ‘How do you know about that?’
‘You were taken to the ship. You talked?’
Khety had never used this tone of urgency with me before.
‘I’ll tell her what happened.’
‘You have to tell me first. Or I cannot take you to her.’
His expression was determined. This was not the unconfidently confident young man I had met just days before. He had assumed a new authority.
‘She doesn’t trust me now?’
He shook his head-direct and honest.
‘You know I was captured? By Mahu?’
‘Yes. And we thought that was the end. But then we learned you were freed. By Ay. This could only mean-’
‘What? That I betrayed her? That I have been working for Ay all this time? Is that what you think? After all we have been through?’ It is hard to be furious in a small boat on open water. ‘Take me to her. Now.’
He looked at me, made his decision and nodded. He deftly turned the skiff and guided us across the strong currents of the river. The evening wind was ragged, blustery and hot-a different wind, not the cool of the northern breeze but something born of the south and its remote deserts. A nearly full moon had now risen above the city. Strange shadows of long, hazy clouds were being drawn like dirty veils across her face. The city’s white facades stood out here and there above the darkness of the trees.
We made our crossing of the jittery dark waters leaving a confused wake, and sailed directly to a jetty of new stone where little tongues of black and blue water lapped agitatedly. The steps led to a place I already knew. A wide stone terrace under a marvellous vine that made it a secret place, quiet and free of the rising wind. And a beautiful chair, set near the water, so that the occupant could sit watching, thinking. I remembered the feel of the missing woman’s figure in its shapes and contours. And there Nefertiti sat, real now, her fingers thoughtfully stroking the carved lion’s paws at the end of the chair’s arms, her mind seemingly as cool as a goblet of water.
I stepped out of the boat. The cat dropped casually down, stretched elegantly, walked over to me and wound herself around my legs.
‘She still likes you.’ Her voice carried a light trill of tension.
‘She has faith. She believes in me.’
‘It is in her nature.’
I said nothing. Khety, who had disappeared for a moment, brought another chair, then retired, perhaps to stand guard. I sat down opposite her, the cat purring in my lap.
‘So, where do we start?’ I said.
‘With the truth?’
‘You think I am here to lie to you?’
‘Why not tell me your story? Then I will see whether or not I believe it.’
‘More stories.’
She said nothing.
‘I went looking for plots and conspiracies. I found men with reasons to want you to disappear for ever, and some of the same men with reasons to want you back. I found out about the golden feathers of the Society of Ashes. Does that mean anything to you?’
She shrugged. ‘It’s the kind of name men give to something they take too seriously.’
‘Your brother-in-law told me the golden feather opens invisible doors. He seemed excited by it.’
‘You see? Men love their riddles and codes and strange seals. It makes them feel clever and important.’
‘That’s more or less what your mother-in-law said. So did Ay.’
I watched her carefully. Something in her eyes flinched at the name-not for the first time. She changed the subject.
‘Mahu got hold of you.’
It wasn’t a question. I held up my finger in its splint. It looked silly.
‘I didn’t talk,’ I said. ‘Well, not much. I told him about the Otherworld and so on, but strangely he didn’t seem to believe me.’
‘He has no imagination.’
‘He does seem to be quite a literal man.’
‘But I am puzzled. How did you escape?’ she asked, returning again to the same point, anxious as a cat trapped in the wrong room.
‘Your friend Ay came and talked to him. Mahu seemed to be persuaded after all that he should brush me down and let me go. Then Ay invited me to lunch, and of course I had to accept. It was quite interesting.’
I wanted that to hang in the air. I wanted her to ask about it.
‘I imagine Mahu tried to hurt you in your heart and soul. I imagine he threatened your family as well as your little finger.’ Her face did not bother to make an expression of sympathy.
‘He’s threatened me with my family before. You know that. And anyway, while I was in the prison I had a bad dream. It was almost worse than anything he could do to me.’
‘Dreams,’ she said quietly. ‘Tell me your dream.’
